A Myriad of Randomness

Blogging is a funny thing. Some blogs are about very specific things (i.e. travel, cooking, research), some set out with a specific goal, some are funded or sponsored, some corner a specific market, and then there are the ones that just kind of exist. Arguably, the time of personal blogging is no longer in its prime. There was a time when having a blog was new and exciting and everyone jumped on the band-wagon, eagerly putting their thoughts out there for all to see. But then social media came along, and the phenomenon of putting your individual thoughts in 140-character snippets somewhat overshadowed the more organized, in-depth character of sitting down to write a blog post. As a couple of my fellow students and I sat around a seminar table this morning (waiting for others to arrive), this came up in a way. One student (in fact, the aforementioned adamant early medievalist) was complaining about the incessant emails he's been getting from an undergraduate tutorial student who seems to email at all hours of the day, just to communicate thoughts that come to mind. I put forward that a good solution would be to just tell this person to get a blog - because then they have the satisfaction of getting thoughts out without having to annoy anyone specifically with their inane or irrelevant chatter. The young man sitting next to me sniggered a bit and quipped that blogs are just fancy "circle jerks" where people self-indulge and pretend they're important. On one level, that's true. If I didn't have at least some ego, I wouldn't write my thoughts down and then publish them for anyone with an internet connection to see. [But then, if I had no ego, I wouldn't be a tour guide, either.] On another level, that's not necessarily the case because there's no guarantee that anyone at all will read one's blog. The internet is littered with useless information and sites no one ever visits. Food for thought, I suppose, but I enjoy writing this blog, and I enjoy reading other people's and so I don't plan to stop any time soon.

That being said, I find it increasingly hard to find topics to really write about. I could go on and on about totally boring, single-incident moments, but that's not even interesting to me. I have toyed with the idea of making this more personal, but then... is that crossing a line into an online journal? Hmm. But then I decide to just bite the bullet, begin writing, and see what happens.

Edinburgh is still basking in some crisp, relatively warm Fall weather. Or rather, it was until this morning at about 9:30am when gale-force winds and soaking rain rolled into town. I, sadly, had not dressed for wet weather and so I have been quite wet several times today. No bueno.

For some reason, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. I could not tell you why, nothing is really out of sorts in my life at the mo. Well, that's not entirely true, but life is pretty damn good. Last night I curled up on a couch with home made hot chocolate (melted dark chocolate and warm milk), almond thins, and Downton Abbey. I absolutely love the show, and the addition of snuggles, cocoa, and cookies certainly made it that much better.

I've been reading some pretty interesting articles recently, as well, on the Loyalists during the American Revolution. It's a funny topic - everyone knows they existed, their presence is well-documented and well-acknowledged and yet they are still under-studied. Just reading about their treatment in the colonies after the war as well as in Britain (including other parts of the empire) made me realize how little we are actually taught about them. I'm not interested in them personally for research reasons, but I'm part of an Early American History reading group that will meet later this week, and Loyalists are the topic we'll be discussing. If nothing else, the culture of reading groups, seminars, lectures, and workshops outside of any prescribed course activity or my own research is the number one thing I like about being a post-grad at such a large university. That and chatting over tea or pints with my supervisor. Which I must go do now. Ciao!

Happenings, Happenings the World Over

Today I had my second meeting with my PhD advisors. Yes, I have officially begun! It's a scary prospect to think that in three years I have to have finished my project, complete with an 80,000- to 100,000-word thesis. It's going to be a comparison of the revolutions and resulting constitutions in what became the United States and Belgium. Not entirely obscure, but definitely not a run-of-the-mill topic. Each meeting reinforces why I am here, why I have always wanted to be here. Talking about the project, the things that may (or may not) prove relevant, the directions my research could take, the possibilities of further research is not just engaging, it is purely enthralling. To a degree that I find rare in other corners of my life. I remarked to one of my supervisors today that I'm genuinely intrigued to see where this will all lead. At this point, from this vantage, none of us can really see the clear path - no roadmap has been hammered out yet - but the elements are beginning to surface through the murk and the mud. In many ways, academic work takes on a life of its own. Everyone always says that, I realize in typing it, but there's a very good reason: it's true. You cannot tell where a project will go until you are in the middle, or possibly near the end. And that is a pure joy. People sometimes liken a PhD thesis to someone's child, usually jokingly. But, like children, someone's thesis takes them to unforeseen intellectual spaces, challenges their limits and their sense of self, and grows into something quite different from what was perhaps expected. I'm just at the beginning. (In the child analogy, probably still pregnant, really.) Already, though, I am excited and ready and rearin' to go. Ah, the sweet smell of academia. How I missed you these past (4) weeks. [NB: the break was welcomed with open arms.]

In other news, I finally browsed the NY Times today for the first time in quite a while. Not having internet at home (crazy flat-moving going on... too much to mention) means my forays onto the wonderful worldly web have been fairly specific, short, and sweet. But today I have some time and so news came to the top of the heap. The first article to jump out at me was one on the general anti-establishment nature of recent uprisings the world over, and a sister article about the protests in Israel. It was interesting to consider the idea that the world at large is moving beyond the governmental structures we know so well. It was a joy to everyone to see the use of Twitter and Facebook during the election protests in Iran over a year ago, and it seemed everyone in the West could unite in condemning state shut-downs of internet access to stop peaceful organization through social media. Hell, the very fact that I can write about social media on this here blog says a lot, considering this girl only got Twitter to follow the great Rachel Maddow. That all made sense without necessarily impinging on our own little worlds. But that first article I mentioned puts forward an interesting premise: that even in the West now, people are going around normal "democratic" processes and using social networks to take matters into their own hands. The article emphasizes a true disappointment on the part of the public when it comes to the effectiveness of their governments and the legitimacy of their voices in elections and polls. It struck me as I read that we are at the precipice of a brand new world, one that could potentially exist without traditional structures and nation-states made up of vast, intricate systems that require cloak-and-dagger diplomacy and special ops forces. Are we as humanity moving beyond the nation-state? Is there about to be a break that, for students of the future, will represent a new fall-line, demarcating the start of a post-Treaty of Westphalia universe? I doubt anything that drastic will actually come to fruition, but the implications are mind-numbingly awesome. How tantalizing to think of tearing down structures that have given Wall Street, bankers, and career politicians the power that monarchs, viceroys, generals, and career diplomats used to have. [You didn't think I'd be able to leave my study of 18th-century revolutions out of this did you?]

[Side note: my Twitter feed just popped up with this tragically hilarious (and relevant) article from the Onion.]

In truth, part of why all of this caught my eye to the degree it did is because I've recently been on some outings with a charming PhD in Education student whose interests lie in social media, technology, etc. and the implications for education. Interesting stuff. I don't get on the Twitter all that often and I don't use LinkedIn or any of that jazz, but I realized that maybe in letting that kind of thing pass me by I'm doing more than sitting in a comfortable cocoon of insulation. Maybe I'm missing out on something. Maybe not.

Whatever the status of the world and its revolutions, Edinburgh is proving itself splendid as ever. An Indian summer has descended upon us, and I welcome it with open arms. Today I actually sat in the Meadows in a tank top... I think I even got a little tan. Being a funded student has meant that I can finally take a little advantage of this fantastic town. In the spirit of revolutions, the other night involved a fantabulous dinner at Pancho Villa's in the Canongate and dessert at Chez Jules (both extremely highly recommended). I'm looking forward to the next three years. For their academic fun, their opportunities, and for the chance to know and love Edinburgh even better.

Oh Hello, Autumn, We Missed You

It's officially September. The time of year when you break out sweaters (or jumpers if you like calling them that), get out scarves and coats, and wait for the leaves on the trees to turn fantastic shades and then fall under your feet as if begging to be crunched. Unless, of course, you live in Scotland. Here, the demarcation from Summer to Fall this year was hopelessly underwhelming. It's been scarf weather for at least 2 weeks here and the tree outside my window has been yellow for at least 10 days. Everyone has been saying that this summer was particularly miserable, even by British and specifically Scottish standards, but I don't think that's accurate. I think that somehow, for some reason, the gods of nature forgot Scotland this year. Time stood still or sped up or was warped somehow, because summer never came. This year, we in the land of haggis, neeps, tatties, kilts, and whisky were left behind in Spring and then fast-forwarded to Fall in the blink of an eye. Doomed were we to hear of others' afternoons at the pool sipping daquiris, to hear of romps in shorts and bikini tops, to dream of sizzling barbeques and content ourselves with a pub dinner in jeans and long-sleeved shirts, hoping to catch a glimpse of a tourist looking bewildered by the rain that stops and starts 10 times in as many minutes.

Ah, but still... life, she is good. For how could one drink a whisky and a pint in hot weather? How would one get adequate use out of umpteen scarves if not to wear them all-year-round? And - best of all for those of us who wear aprons at work - how else but by freezing rain will customers stop ordering bloody Frappucinos? Yes, this weather has its advantages, and though I cursed and swore and ranted several times this summer, I refuse to have my optimism squashed. And now that it's officially September, balance has been restored and wearing a scarf does not need to induce rage.

In other September news, it is the start of a new school year. In my case, a new degree! Ha! I've just handed in a Master's thesis (literally - 2 weeks ago) and now I get to start my PhD! The good thing is that PhD's are much more personal and self-based research and so it's not like finishing one year of undergrad and hopping into the next in a fortnight. (Yes, I said fortnight). I'm looking forward to getting back to the academic part of my world, if for no other reason than it means I get to forcefully scale back my hours at the Bux and have a great excuse not to take tours when the office calls looking desperately for a guide. Hoorah!

Saturday, what a day..

So, I started this blog and then promptly got so busy in such mundane ways that no second post seemed worth it. But that's no way to run an internet communication! Lack of time? Bah! Lack of titillating events? Pish! Just write something, eh?! That sentiment is my motivation today. It's a gloomy, cloudy Saturday morning here in Edinburgh, something I have become used to, even in the month of June.

Ya know, everywhere complains about their weather. No population ever truly admits their weather rocks, or at least not for very long. Buffalo, NY, has fantastic summers but everyone always complains about the snow in March. The Carolinas have the most gorgeous springs, but their summers evoke rants and raves about the humidity, the temperature, and the horrific UV index. Even still, both those places are willing to take their nice seasons as times to forget the bad ones and just enjoy yourself. Scotland can have sunny days and Fall's not so awful here, but it pretty much takes the cake when it comes to miserable weather. What's even better is that people have just come to accept this and, moreover, have turned winging about it into a national past-time. An entire popular psyche has been formed around the fact that the weather will, inevitably, let one down. On a sunny day: "It won't last." "I'm in the office today and damnit, on my day off it will no doubt be raining." "Ugh, the sun is too hot!" On a rainy day: "It's just not worth getting out of bed sometimes." "Ach, it's no different from any other day." (For the record, all direct quotes from Starbucks customers.) On a gloomy day: "At least it's dry." That's as optimistic as it gets. "At least it's dry." To be fair, that's usually my response to a Scottish customer's characteristically gloomy statement. Oh my.

On a more uplifting note, I have nothing official to do today! No ghost tours, no barista-ing, no meetings. I do, however, always have research. Academia is the kind of job that follows you around. People in offices talk about constant projects and such, but those are usually short-term bursts that end in a couple weeks and then a new one comes along. Turnover is pretty good. People who work shift jobs generally take nothing home with them and just enjoy their lives guilt-free until the next shift comes along. Not so in academia. There is always something massive looming over your horizon. (Wait, is this a Scottish weather discussion or what?) A dissertation doesn't write itself and even in a week where I've been to the library five times, I feel as though I should use part of my Saturday to get that little bit more read. After all, it's past mid-June (eek!) and writing must commence in July. MUST. You may be detecting a hint of resentment in this explanation, but the truth is that I love this. True, it can weigh you down and you have to learn to actively let go in order to truly enjoy a nice time, but in the end it is so much fun. Research is a bit of a drug for me. Writing is a bit of a drug for me. Getting a degree is a bit of a drug for me and I enjoy every enslaved moment in the library, sifting through sources for great quotes, fascinating ideas, or simply the satisfaction of saying that particular historian had his head on backwards when he thought that theory was a good one. More immediately and less ephemerally important, perhaps, is the fact that I have a meeting with my advisor this coming week. So goals must be met, progress must be made, and Saturdays cannot be devoted to snuggling with my giant stuffed hippopotamus in my Little Mermaid sheets. To the library!

P.S. In case you thought the hippo was a joke: