Miss df

The art of complaining at little research girls

Everyone has to have their say. Apparently what matters is not the content, it is not what I actually am arguing, but it is the activity of complaining and telling someone (me), that what I do needs more work. That is important.

One supervisor tells me that “previous research” is not a concept I should use, while the other tells me to name a whole chapter “previous research”.

One tells me that the type of experiment I have used does not exist because he has not read about it anywhere before, and he has read so much.

One tells me that I shouldn’t quote so much because it will give the impression of that I am insecure. The other tells me that I can’t say anything without a quote as I am nobody to know these things.

I feel, this is not about what I do or what i write, instead it is all about complaining, for the art of doing so.

I feel like a little girl that needs to be told her place. Actually, it would be very nice if she returned to the kitchen or found herself a husband instead of go on trying to say something that she doesn't know in the first place.

Now, I have to find some kind of balance in making everyone happy, and this might result in making me happy too, someday, not today.

posted by: denimfairy at 13:36 | link | comments |

Torture

Why is it always on the guys terms, when to meet? Why do I always have to wait for him to decide when he can squeeze me into his tight schedule? I don't get this. And it is not me. I know I am kind of a control freak, but you have to be in this town.
I control my time and when I plan to do something with someone, we decide on what to do and when, in advance and then, we stick to it, unless something comes in the way. And if that happens we make a call. It is really simple. That is with friends however, either girls or boys.

But it is NEVER simple with guys that I am dating. Why is that?

I made a little enquiry among my girlfriends and they all experience the same thing. The guy is sort of up in the blue, says that he wants to see you, but then "forgets" to decide when to meet or forgets to confirm something you just talked about doing.

Is it something that lies in the nature of women and men? I don't like to make such distinctions between the sexes, but is it?

It annoys me so much that I am the one "waiting for him to call" again. I am soon done with waiting.

posted by: denimfairy at 08:32 | link | comments |

The non-date story, part II

The next day, I woke up by the sounds of the busy street and my sister telling me that she had to go now, to catch her plane back home. I could tell she was stressed, but she looked happy. She said she loved this town and really wanted to move here. Too bad she hadn't gotten the job. Too bad she didn't speak the language. But there would be other job opportunities here, she was sure of it. She wished me good luck and then she was off to the airport. 

Almost by coincidence, we had both gotten job interviews in that country, in that town, that week, however at different universities.

I was tired and thought for a second, wait, what am I doing here? And then I realized, and froze and tried to hide under the blanket.

No, this was not vacation, and it was not over yet, and I was meeting the odd looking nice man in about an hour. I had to get up, I had to get ready, I had to be able to stand up for my proposal that I had been forced to write yesterday..

I decided to not wear a suit, even though the interview would continue today. But after all it was Saturday morning and I was going to the home of my potential future boss.

I was nervous beyond belief. Why, I can't really say, because it was now clear to me that I didn't want this job. I felt so strongly that I wasn't the right person for it, and actually, the money wasn't good enough.

As if I ever cared about money before. Now that I think of it, it seems like a bad excuse I made to calm myself down.

The street was busy, the people were casually dressed, and that smell that I recognize from when I last lived in Spain was there.. It was the smell of Spanish morning, something like very strong deodorant and the smell of the newly cleaned little parts of the streets in front of the houses. I started walking towards the meeting point. I was early, and I sat down next to some Italian tourists, waiting for the odd man to arrive.

And I waited and waited, until I saw him coming. He was wearing tiny John-Lennon sunglasses, a purple shirt and leather pants. Leather pants, in this heat? He was smoking and walked up to me in his funny way.

And I thought, Ok, I'm ready. It starts here. Let this day of intensive interviewing begin.
I will get this job!

posted by: denimfairy at 10:40 | link | comments |

Waiting, waiting, waiting

This week has felt like one long day that never ends… Since Sunday night, I am waiting for nothing and everything at the same time, and I feel stuck. It wont help me that time moves on and that next week will start in a few days, because I have no idea how long I have to do this waiting, it might be a few days more, it might be a week more.

It is really not my thing to wait. When I want something, I want it now. Not later.

posted by: denimfairy at 08:51 | link | comments (2) |