I have learned to expect very little from my dissertation chair. We've worked together for over 4 years and I realize that I still know very little about him. Unlike others in my department, there are very few rumors about him, despite the cloud of mystery that follows his every step. Over the years I have observed him silently slipping in and out of his office, but he doesn't seem to have any patterns, making it incredibly difficult to know where he is and when he will arrive. He often wears a dark coat that somehow reminds me of Indiana Jones. If his office were not on the 8th floor of our building, I think he would sneak out the window. Actually, I think he has the know how and skill to rig up a device to sneak out the window despite the high location of his office, only the windows in our hall don't open and most of the time the weather here is too crummy to go outside. Maybe he knows about a secret passage way that I am unaware of.
I used to hide in the stairwell next to "Indiana's" office. It was the perfect hiding spot when I didn't want anyone to find me: irrate students who didn't earn high enough grades to obtain retro credits, gossiping faculty, vampire officemates and the like. It also was a great place to grade assignments without having to hear anyone's mobile phone ring every 10 seconds. In my 2 years hiding in that stairwell, I never saw Indiana in it. Thus I've been pondering for over 4 years how he manages to leave the elevator and make it into his office without being stopped. Maybe he can teleport. If so, I sure wish he would teach me how to do it.
Indiana has given me very little feedback over the years. His usual comments towards me are references to my hats, usually in the form of compliments. The others include:
"Your written responses weren't good enough on your comps to earn you the high distinction for your MA, but your coursework was impressive enough to make up the difference. You'll have to work harder on your PhD," said when he came to congratulate me for passing my MA comprehensive exams.
"Kelsie, it's good that you're back. We have a lot of work to do," said when I returned to graduate school after a hellacious year of teaching middle school.
"If you see 'Kelly,' kick him in the ass for me," said in most of our recent meetings in reference to my officemate, who is also Indiana's advisee.
"Your prelims are a time for us to make you sweat. We will pull out articles that you have never heard of and verbally abuse you for 2 hours, then, if you're still breathing, we will magically wave our hands over your head and pronounce you ABD," said in preparing me to take my preliminary exams which would conclude my doctoral coursework.
In sum, Indiana's comments usually result in me being a) confused b) upset c) grouchy or d) bewildered.
I passed my prelims in mid-November. My committee made me wait 30 minutes before Indiana came to my office to tell me that I passed. This wasn't because they couldn't agree on my status, rather they just enjoyed talking to eachother. They decided within 2 minutes of me leaving the room that I passed. I think Indiana just wanted to give me a hard time for the other 28 minutes.
Following this description, one can understand my complete shock upon receiving a congratulatory gift from Indiana at the end of the semester: a bag with a bottle of chamagne, German and Swiss chocolate and a watch. Although the watch was likely $5, I have worn it consistently whenever occupying myself with scholarly activities. That is until I lost it at my parents' house two weeks ago. Since losing the watch, Geraldine (my dissertation) has survived two computer crashes, a corrupted flashdrive, and the permanent deletion of all electronically received articles from interlibrary loan. I am convinced that this is no ordinary $5 watch. Indiana must have picked it up in SE Asia while on a research trip and it has magical powers. I cannot make progress on Geraldine until it has returned to my possesion.
Luckily, my mom called me earlier today to announce that the watch mysteriously appeared in the middle of the living room floor. Now I just have to wait for it in the mail. THANK GOD!
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