The Tam Is Almost Mine!

Many of you have probably noticed that I have been unusually silent when it comes to one aspect of my life: the writing of the dreaded dissertation.  Procrastination is new to me.  I am not a procrastinator by nature.  I'm an anal retentive, super punctual, organized and efficient machine.  Usually.  But this dissertation has crippled me and made me feel that our friend's slogan "Procrastinators Unite Tomorrow!" might just suit me.  But no more!

I turn in my dissertation draft on Friday.  It is, of course, not ready.  But it will be!

My Chair will read it in the next few weeks and send me comments.  I'll make some speedy revisions (let's hope), and then she'll send it out to the full committee of five.  They have a month to read the draft and send me comments.  I have a few weeks to respond before we all meet on November 4th for the defense.  With any luck, they'll release me from my servitude in less than three months! 

And on that glorious day, I too will be admitted into the circle of ultimate dorkiness.  I too will be permitted to wear the ugliest, dopiest, "could you even TRY to look any dumber than you do right now" hat ever created.  I don't know who thought it was a good idea to create a velvet, floppy, beanie-like hat as a symbol of intelligence.  But then, I'm starting to think more and more that the hat doesn't symbolize intelligence.  More so, I think it symbolizes a masochistic need for punishment and stress, stamina and endurance (i.e., stubborness?), an abnormal ability to function reasonably well for years on very little sleep, and a clinging desire to receive student discounts past age 22 (not that half of the movie theaters in the States even honor the discount anymore . . . or if they do, only from the hours of 4pm-5pm on Thursdays.  Jerks.).

But back to the regalia:

Nor do I know who thought a billowy, heavy, velvet gown with multi-colored zebra stripes made anyone look anything other than dowdy and comical.  There are few sights more pleasurable than watching my professors parade around in their regalia.  They look so stupid.  I love it!  I've laughed many a laugh at their expense.  In my opinion, professors have never looked dumber.  To see them congregating in their outfits is such a ridiculous spectacle that one can't help but stare.

Not that I want to be stared and laughed at.  Or put that tam on my head.  However, I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't really, really happy to know that in a few months, if I really wanted to, I could don the full regalia, parade around like a pregnant duck, and be the focus of other people's mockery. 

Lest you think I exaggerate about the silliness of regalia, I have included a picture from a site that sells the stuff.  They actually chose this picture, presumably because they think the models look dignified and wise.  Au contraire. . . 

Onward!  Enough meaningless ritual-garb analysis.  I have another meaningless analysis to write!!!

Note:  For any professors reading this blog, be assured that I never thought you looked silly in your regalia.  You are the one shining exception to the rule . . . and I should have gotten a B.S. rather than a B.A.