Will You Take Me Home, Dr. D?

Man, some times you feel like a human, and some times you don’t. Today I am in full control of my humanity.

This weekend, I was wading through my SSHRC proposal, uncertain of it because, though no one booooed at it, it wasn’t setting the world on fire, either. My supervisor was undemanding, and was OK with it. However, Dr. D., the lady who is massively supportive but at the same time is always encouraging us to improve, was never happy with that SSHRC proposal of mine. Not enough theory, she harped. Not enough methodology. Three drafts, and her response was a stiff- "Meh."

Basically, I was being a twerp and not a grown up, and my proposal could have been written by a third-year honours student.

So, OK, says I… I just ain’t smart enough for PhD. I can’t do what you want.

Bull, she said, go work on it.

So I did, and in a fit of bad temper and panic I slashed and burnt the old proposal. I lost pretty much the whole thing, and I put forward something very controversial and high-falutten’. The idea that American films make the Jews into a race, and that the ultimate issue with intermarriage in film is not that it is interfaith, but that it is interracial.

And I sent it off.

So I wait… A day passes… My advisor usually gets back to me within hours, and Dr. D. always emails something the next morning… Still nothing this afternoon …

So I figure I’ve screwed the pooch so bad that nothing good is waiting for me. I mean, I bought that dog dinner and took it back to my place… I’m dead. They are holding their breath for lightening to strike me.

This afternoon I was having heart palpitations. I was trying to read, but my email program was just sitting there… No word came. I tried not to check every ten minutes, but I failed. Nothing, and still nothing. So I was loosing my brain in worry- that SSHRC application is due on Friday. What do I do if they hate it? Worse, what do I do if I offend them? (One is black, the other is a Jew- what if neither enjoy my brain child?)

So, when making my umpteenth visit to the smoke exit, I happened upon Dr. D. (before I had a chance to run the other way… I wanted to know, but not in person).

Oh, Holly, says she, as casual as the air. I read your proposal- that’s some hot stuff. Thanks for re-doing it. It’s much better now. See, that’s what I meant by theory.

Meanwhile, I have fallen on the floor, tears on my face, thankful to still be alive… Well, mentally at least. She actually is finally pleased with that damn proposal... She said it's a fine start for my official one due next year.

So, I am still in the game. And it looks like I am becoming a racial theorist… I don’t know exactly what that is, but it sounds like something that can get my mailbox set on fire…

Oh well, all that matters is that Dr. D. still loves me. I wonder if she’s looking to adopt?