Basic

In my day-to-day interaction with the world, both in person and online, I feel a vague, weak-to-moderate pressure to eschew the wildly popular in favor of the unique, quirky, whatever.  Both "hipster" and "basic" (yielded as an insult) have faded out of contemporary parlance, which I think is indicative of the dissolution of both ideas; they remain only as the occasional raised eyebrow when someone admits to liking Taylor Swift.

In some areas, I exhibit an aversion to the wildly popular and have done so my entire life.  I suppose an armchair psychologist would say that I behaved that way as a child out of disliking being bossed around (don't tell me what to read/watch/buy) and preemptively rejecting the customs of other social groups rather than face the possibility of trying to assimilate and failing.  As an adult, the former remains a strong driver of my actions, whereas the latter has changed into just being too busy to consume popular stuff and not wanting to suffer the shame of being the last person in the Milky Way Galaxy to watch Frozen.  Which I have not done.  Nor have I read or watched the Harry Potter series, gotten anything embroidered with my monogram, joined Twitter or Instagram, enrolled in CrossFit...I'm getting along just fine without them and at this point, it would probably just look pathetic.

But in other areas, I am purely basic - in the 2012 sense of the word.  Where my more interesting friends are cooking healthy and intricate meals, contemplating deep theological questions, traveling, throwing themselves behind causes (their resolve I admire, whether I agree with the cause or not), I am over here captivated by the most asinine things.  At this level of adherence, I would call myself a nerd, except that moniker is usually reserved for narrower and more intellectual objects of affection than these.  I am unabashedly enthusiastic about...

1. Pizza

I have the appetite of a frat boy.  We have pizza once a week here at Casa de Dubs and that's me showing restraint.  I do have standards when it comes to pizza, but not in the same way my foodie friends do.  Spare me some deconstructed flatbread exotic cheese blowtorch-cooked Pinterest science fair entry...I require regular crust, normal sauce that involves tomatoes, mozzarella and pepperoni.  I'll allow some variations on that theme, but those are required components.  And if your rendition of those components is substandard and unpalatable, like restaurants in which pizza is not the staple of their offerings or Little Caesars, I take it personally.  Even Dominos and Pizza Hut are borderline.  But Papa Johns?  Mellow Mushroom?  Atlas Pizza here in Gainesville?  Marco's?  GET IN MAH FACE.

2. Laying out

I hear you: skin cancer, radiation, you're-of-irish-descent-and-can't-tan, etc.  Except no, I can't hear you over my Pandora 90s station, sorry.  I had one summer where I spent enough time in the sun and had the right combination of sunscreen-moderated exposure, unscreened-exposure and nonexposure to achieve a tan, but otherwise I don't spend enough time outside to really tan anyway.  My spirituality friends talk about balance of elements and how important a healthy amount of exposure to the sun is for gaining energy and whatnot...while I don't necessarily subscribe to those beliefs, I do feel good after a little time relaxing in the sun.  That feeling could be biological or sociological in nature (probably a combination of both).  In any event, I love the feeling of laying down, listening to music or chatting with a friend and feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin.  It's like a massage from God.  Speaking of which...

3. Pedicures/Massages at my local day spa

I have tried manicures before, have even done acrylics twice, but they never last longer than a week because I play and type too aggressively.  So all of my nail-related pampering has to go to my feet.  I try to be frugal, so I don't go to high-end spas or massage therapists...but I also don't want my cuticles cut all the way up to my ankle or my shoulder knots treated with all the finesse of a toddler making Play-Doh pancakes, so I don't go to the cheap places either.  There's a middle-of-the-road place right near my house that does a decent job of both.  Yeah, the massages and their attendant "aromatherapy" are probably placebos and the sugar scrub isn't really doing that much to my skin besides scratching it, but the employees bring me hot tea and I can pretend I'm a pop star.  I am winning at segues today because...

4. Pop music

I have had BIG FEELINGS about this ever since undergrad.  For the most part, the professional musicians I have worked with are comfortable with a wide range of musical genres.  The woman with a doctorate in piano performance enjoys bluegrass too.  The man with a doctorate in music history can give you all the knowledge about the Notre Dame school as well as the Beatles.  But every once and again, I meet some pompous blowhard who wants to roll their eyes at my ringtone ("Beautiful Life" by Ace of Base.)  Liking the new Demi Lovato song does not undo my accomplishments.  I can rock out to the "Deadpool Rap" and then perform pitch class analysis on the Macedonian folk song my Cantique girls are singing.  Even within the scope of vernacular music, my tastes are pretty vanilla.  Sorry, friends who are into shoegazer indie, jazz-funk fusion, minimalist rock...I'm struggling to stay awake and wishing this was *NSync.

5. YouTube

I have a few YouTube subscriptions that are friends of mine.  But for the most part, I subscribe to at least one channel in each of the major YouTube categories, including gaming, comedy, music and vloggers.  I will happily watch Markiplier fail at Happy Wheels and scream about it or Jenna Marbles tell me what she thinks about during bubble baths because it's funny.  Makeup videos are interesting because I can see what all those ridiculously expensive things they sell at Sephora look like when used and because I just like to look at pretty things.  I get a little flak from a small number of people over this, and let's just say this small number of people come from a demographic with which I often have to agree-to-disagree.

6. Looking at sports

I say "looking at" rather than "watching" because I cannot be bothered to learn enough about the sports beyond what actions result in points.  As one of my former students put it, "Get the thing to the other side of the thing!"  I rarely watch an entire game, but I like seeing strong, skilled people do athletic things, especially if running is involved.  In 2014, when the US made it to the knockout stage in the FIFA World Cup (had to Google/Wikipedia that information, as all I could remember offhand was that it was fairly recent and we were good at soccer for a minute), I would put the soccer games on TV and run on my treadmill while watching the game.  There's a psychological component, I guess..."If I keep running, the man on TV will keep running and maybe score a goal!"  It was perfect because any given sporting event will hold my attention for between 30 minutes and an hour and that's how long I was running.  These days, I usually look at sports while eating and at food (via the Food Network TV at Planet Fitness) while exercising.  Life is weird.

Are there areas of your own life in which you are unabashedly basic?  Sound off in the comments here or on the Facebook link I'm going to post as soon as I finish composing this sentence!

First Worldiest Problem: In ABD Limbo

So I finished coursework for my doctorate last summer.  During the fall, I was still caught up in studying for the second sitting of my history prelim, then for my orals, then in trying to spit out the first draft of my proposal.  Even though I wasn't in a regularly-meeting class anymore, I still had daily tasks and roughly regular goals to meet.

But now.

I feel like I was strapped to a rocket (enrolling at UGA for the first time), got lit up and shot into the sky (getting my Master's), endured bone-crushing g-forces and face-melting heat (getting through comps) and now I have escaped the atmosphere, my rocket has burned out and I am just floating around in space.  Just be lookin' at satellites 'n junk.  My major professor is fantastic - he's been attentive, responsive and helpful.  But every dissertation is different, and while there are certain procedural steps that happen in a certain order, there's no template to follow, and no set timeline to adhere to except the 5-year deadline for completion.  He can't tell me exactly what to write because (1) he done writ his dissertation and (2) neither one of us really knows the final shape of this thing yet.  It's going to take some poking around by both of us, like we're trying to map out trails on a previously unmapped patch of forest.  I'm running around with my compass, checking out every possible route and he's behind me, occasionally pointing out better routes or telling me not to touch the poison ivy.

That metaphor is a bit labored, but I stand by it.

When I passed orals, he warned me that some students "want to play hurry-up" and end up with submissions that don't pass, which wastes everyone's time and the student's tuition money.  I'm guessing he (rightly) saw that tendency in me.  There are still some questions we have to address before I can submit another revision...I mean, I guess I could submit another revision anyway, but I know some problems or holes would still be there.  But the forces in me that want to do things as correctly as possible, to follow procedure and cultural expectations, to make a good impression on my major professor...these are, for the time being, managing to override the part of me that wants to check things off my to-do list (dishes, laundry, terminal degree).  I'm only about 4 months into my ABD status, but the fear of missing that 5-year deadline is already starting to creep up.  If that happens, I have to re-take comps and do all of this all over again.  Some of my committee members have thrown the word "retire" around, so if I had to re-do this, it might be with a whole different Doc Squad.  These dudes are like a hyper-intelligent, hyper-talented set of favorite uncles and I am NOT interested in replacing them.

There was a time when this whole process felt like a vague future supposition, the way your kindergarten self said you were going to be a cop, singer and dinosaur when you grew up.  In undergrad, I would talk about getting a doctorate with about the same level of commitment...I figured I probably could do it, but couldn't really see that far into the future over the immediacy of trying to memorize Dr. J's 10 Characteristics of Impressionism or not accidentally belch while trying to support the tone during one of Dr. R's voice lessons.  Now I am actually here and it is the weirdest, most wonderful thing.  I am equal parts gratified by the feeling of accomplishment in having made it to this point and PETRIFIED about the possibility of not making it any farther.  Of blowing the game-winning touchdown.  Of suffering a laryngeal spasm during the "money note" of the finale.  Of suffering a power outage during the final boss.

Of having to take that history prelim a third time.  I may just throw myself off the roof of the Hugh if that happens.