tehuti

I did a year-end wrap-up post of my races for 2010, and now I continue that tradition for 2011.

Big Fourth 5k, July 4, 2011: 32:43, 10:28/mile

Rock n' Roll Providence Half Marathon, Aug 7, 2011: 2:48:08, 12:46/mile

Greater Springfield Harriers Summer Sizzler 8k, Aug 17, 2011: 53:32, 10:57/mile

Greater Springfield Harriers Summer Sizzler 5k, Aug 24, 2011: 39:23, 12:43/mile

Run to the Rock Half Marathon, Sept 10, 2011: 2:52:41, 13:06/mile

Hartford Half Marathon, Oct 15, 2011: 2:41:05, 12:11/mile

BayState Rays of Hope 8k, Oct 23, 2011: 1:05:08, 12:26/mile

Hot Chocolate 5k Run, Dec 4, 2011: 35:19, 11:09/mile

This year, we missed the Tomato Trot because of Pi-Con, the AIDS Run because of Run to the Rock, And the Bridge of Flowers because of Rock n' Roll Providence. As the results show, in that last case especially, it had nothing to do with fitness level. Our timed runs this year were limited by available funds. When I finished school, my income went with it, so we cut back wherever we could. Hopefully, now that I am back to work, that will change for next year.

I'm going to start working on a general year-end wrap-up post, where I'll talk about these results in more detail. Some of my resolutions last year pertained to running, and although I didn't keep them, I'm still pleased with my times and accomplishments this year. I'll explain later, I promise. Just be patient, and you'll see what I mean. :-)

Transcending Boundaries 2011 is officially in the books. Today is one of my favorite days of the year. It started about 6pm last night, right about the time I turned to our fabulous conference chair and said the magic words, “You’re fired!”

I don’t think I’ve ever made a dead girl happier.

Today is one of my favorite days not because the conference is over. Well, not exactly. I love today because of the effect TBC has on its attendees and staff. This magical sense of calm, belonging and community overcomes me, and it lasts until the real world finally reminds me that we’re done for another year. It’s mingled with a sense of satisfaction and pride, knowing that, for three days a year, we create this special place where everyone is welcome, everyone belongs and the rest of the world can piss off, but in a nice way.

I still don’t know how or why it happens, I just know it does. And it lasts for about a 24 hours. So today is one of my favorite days all year.

TBC provides brain food like no other event I’ve ever attended. And that’s really saying something, since I’m usually so busy I’m lucky to get to more than two panels. I cannot imagine how people that go to things all weekend manage to keep everything in their heads. Walking to the closing panel, I was joking with one of our past keynote speakers that I’ve never really attended a TBC, and in a very real way, I haven’t. As staff (and senior staff at that), TBC is a very different experience for me. Not worse, just different.

Deep down in my secret heart, I think my experience is better.

There were so many “take-away” moments form this year’s conference; I couldn’t begin to list or rank them. I already mentioned one above. Another I posted to Facebook last night, on Robin Ochs Wall. During the Panel of Awesome, a closing panel discussion on the future of the GLBTQ community, featuring three current and past TBC keynote speakers, Robin asked the room how many of us had ever felt like we were too queer, or not queer enough, to be in the community. Nearly every hand in the room shot into the air. It is the first time I really and truly felt like I belonged with them.

I’ve struggled with this for years. Decades. I’m a poly, kinky, pagan, bi, geeky guy. I’ve never in my life not been a minority. I was raised Jewish, and am still proud of my family heritage although I, like my new long lost Auntie Kate, choose not to believe in an Angry God. I was a fat kid, and still struggle with body image and self-esteem. I have a learning disability that I hid from my teachers by overachieving in school. I was adopted, and still feel guilty that I don’t have the connection to my family of origin that so many other people seem to have.

I was bullied cruelly for all of these things. I don’t have many memories of childhood that don’t involve persecution of some kind for some reason. I struggled with gender and sexuality when I began puberty. I questioned who and what I was, who and what I was expected to be and what was happening to my body. In the early 80s, there was no one to tell me that what I was feeling was OK, that I wasn’t a bad person and that it was perfectly normal to be confused. Not that I knew or could find. Everything and everyone around me told me that being queer, whatever that meant, was bad and shameful. So after being bullied by my peers for my entire life, there was no chance in hell I was telling anyone about any of it. I muddled through, survived high school, and it wasn’t until my thirties that I finally accepted myself for myself. Even now, I still struggle.

All of the choices I’ve made in my life mark me as “other”. I’ve never been anything resembling “normal” or “average”. But if you look at me, I look like a fairly typical white male. Even my long hair isn’t that unusual in my part of the world. It’s not obvious that I’m different. Even people that should know better than to judge a queer by his cover can’t get past my white cis-male appearance. Last night, our amazing friend Lorelei said we (meaning my family and I) were some of the most radical people she knew. And I don’t see it, because when I look in the mirror, I see a white male staring back, and I know what that means to far too many of the people in my chosen communities.

And that’s why Robin’s simple demonstration hit me so hard. She proved to me in a way that I will never forget that I belong. That I shouldn’t feel like a fraud anymore. I belong, and not because I go to munches, or make TBC come alive, or go to Pride events, or anything else I do.

I belong to the queer community because I am one of them. They are my people.

-----------------

I’m going to finish this post with my typical random “bullet thoughts” after-con report. Otherwise, I’ll keep writing all night.

From an organizers standpoint, this was our best TBC yet. 315 registered attendees, 350ish total attendance.

The venue loved us. We loved them. Working hard to get back into the Mass Mutual Center for next year.

Got to be a different weekend, though. The largest horse show in the northeast was this weekend at the Big E. Which explains the complete lack of hotel rooms anywhere within 20 miles of Springfield.

And this weekend next year, the damn cheerleaders that plagued us in Worcester will be in Springfield. DO NOT WANT.

I cannot say enough how awesome the venue staff is, from managers and sales folks to the security guards and catering staff. If any of the high muckity-mucks of the Mass Mutual Center are seeing this, please give me a job. I want to work with you all every single day!

To the outgoing con chair; TBC 2011 was only as good as it was because you knew when to beat on heads and when to stand aside and let things happen. It's a rare skill. I know you don't think our success had anything to do with you. You are wrong. Well done.

Practice “Radical Welcoming”.

Dear Gods, way too much eye candy at TBC this year. And not all of it was the attendees.

Wait, what the hell am I complaining about? MOAR KANDY!

I wish I’d discovered Kate Bornstein’s work twenty years ago. Would have saved me a lot of pain.

Speaking of, Kate is amazing. In case there was any doubt. And not just because of the “Old Starbuck” costume she wore at the keynote.

Or her sonic screwdriver.

We’re getting really good at this event-running gig. A whole lot of stuff seemed to happen way more easily than I remember in the last two years. Go us!

My family HAS to get involved as presenters as often and wherever we can. We’ve got stuff to say, and it’s about time we started saying it, often and loudly.

Mark, you can never quit staff. We'd miss your enthusiasm too much. First thing in the morning on Day Three, it's the only thing that gets us going.

TBC had its own “Bread Fairy” this year. More like “Bagel Fairy”. If you are reading this, hope you enjoy them, Katie.

Dear Mass Mutual Center. Please install some giant retractable sun shades. That huge glass wall faces southwest. And the sun is bright, especially during the daytime. Love, TBC Staff and Attendees.

I think that the Munchkin single-handedly put a smile on the face of every single person that passed through Registration. If we had a dollar for every minute that someone other than one of his parents was drooling or cooing over him this weekend, TBC would be set for years.

There was a small Occupy Springfield protest across the street from us Saturday. And there was a cute little Tea Party counter-rally on our side of the street. Some signs supporting the Occupiers magically appeared on the glass wall, facing outward so both sides could read it.

I may or may not have instigated that. ;-)

I was completely and totally wrong about starting programming at 1pm Friday. Close to half the attendees came in Friday because we started early.

Random Happy Moment: Saturday night, watching two of our attendees grooving on the dance floor. In their power wheelchairs.

Nick Krieger, if you happen to see this, please come back to TBC again. And that goes for everyone else that was there this weekend.

In fact, if you have ever been to a TBC, as a vendor, presenter, staff member or attendee, please come back next year.

On that note, if you found this blog through the TBC website, Facebook, etc., feel free to stalk me, friend me, whatever. We’re probably best friends and don’t know it yet.

As I walked through the chute after finishing the half marathon Saturday, I turned to the Princess and remarked that, one year ago, I'd never have imagined completing that race. The fact that it was my third timed half marathon this year would have been complete lunacy to contemplate. But there I was, walking through the line to collect my third finisher's medal in as many months.

I often forget that I've only been running for slightly more than one year. Sixteen months, give or take a week. I know that my hiking experience gave me a good base to build on, but it still feels like I shouldn't be able to enter or complete the races I've done this year.

But enough rambling. This post was supposed to be about the Hartford Half Marathon. As I mentioned briefly on Facebook the other day, I am ridiculously pleased with how this race went. So let's get to it, shall we?

First, the technical stuff: 31.11 miles, 2:45:22 gun time, 2:41:05 chip time. Gun time means from the moment the starter's gun fired. Chip time starts the moment we crossed the start line. Aimee and I were near the back, so it took us a few minutes to actually get going.

Splits:

Miles Time

1 10:51.5
2 10:50.0
3 11:25.7
4 11:37.9
5 11:56.7
6 11:56.1
7 11:38.2
8 12:14.3
9 13:18.1
10 12:51.4
11 12:49.9
12 13:15.8
13 13:08.9

For the non-runners reading this, these splits are really good for runners like us. Like most racers, we started at our planned race pace (a bit faster, actually, but that's also normal) and lost speed as we got tired. The goal was to finish sub 2:45, which we achieved. Up until the last two miles, we were as much as seven minutes ahead of pace. We were so far ahead that, at about the eight mile mark, we took a potty break and still made our goal. Our average pace was 12:18 per mile, which is a really good time for us at this distance.

Physically, we both held up well. We're planning to go for a short run tomorrow, to stretch the muscles a bit. The first time I ran a half marathon, it took me a full week to recover. Aimee wasn't any better. So not only are we getting better at running this distance, we're also recovering faster. Another thing to be pleased about.

A few quick points before I post this and head to bed:

The weather was fantastic. A bit cool at the 8am start, but it warmed up nicely. So did we, which helped.

The rain the day before made for a muddy post-race party. Mud and Vibram Five Fingers don't mix well. Bushnell Park was all squishy! :-P

As we crossed the finish line together, Aimee and I rang the cowbells we snagged halfway through the race course. The crowd's cheering was awesome.

Sadly, they weren't cheering for us. The winner of the women's marathon happened to be crossing the finish at the same time we did. Completely stole our thunder. Sigh...

Didn't see as many toe shoes this year as we did last year. Not sure if that means anything, just an observation.

Did see one guy running the half while barefoot. I thought we were hardcore...

Michy and Ian found a nice little breakfast place on Main St. Turns out that the course ran right past it. Also turns out that she came out with the baby at just the right moment for us to run over, swap kisses and keep on going.

Going to the Town Line Diner for our family post-race meal is now officially a tradition, because I said so.

So are chocolate milkshakes.

Next year, we have to finish a lot faster. We crossed the line in 4736th place, out of 5156. The lines for everything were so long, we skipped a lot of stuff, including the free beer.

It's kinda nice being near the back of the pack, though. We all know we're slow, and encourage each other. It's a nice camaraderie, and I hope that we don't lose that if we get faster.

Micah's Racing Goals: Don't be last (check!), finish the race (check!), post a personal best (check!). Two out of three is a win. Three out of three is fantastic.

Was it really only last summer that I struggled to finish a 5k? Feels weird, looking back now.

Even weirder? When we ran the 5k race in Hartford last year, Aimee was four months pregnant. Where the hell does the time go?

About a week ago, I got a phone call from the UMass History Department. The grad school registrar was processing my degree paperwork, and did not have any record for me passing the foreign language exam. Patty, the department assistant, called to ask me about this.

The registrar had no record because I didn't take one. The department (meaning the current program director) approved a course I took in lieu of an exam. The class in question was my GIS course from last spring. According to what I was told, it had been used as a substitute for the foreign language requirement in the past, and since all of my foreign language classwork is more than twenty years stale, taking a class in "an alternative tool of research" (to quote the grad handbook) instead.

According to the registrar, they have no record of this class being approved in place of the language exam. They have a list of pre-approved classes, and mine ain't one of them. So my graduation is on hold.

AGAIN.

For those of you keeping score, this is the second time in two years (technically, 27 months) that I've been this close to earning a degree at UMass Amherst only to find out at the last gorram minute that, actually, I might not be done. So sorry about that.

And true to form, there'd be precious little I could do about it. I'm not ready for an actual language exam, if I could even take one. Which would require special permission, since they've already been given for this semester. And the add-drop period is over, so I couldn't enroll in a class to try to fix it. Even if I could afford one. Which I can't.

The grad registrar is not in his office today, so there's no one I can talk to. The office people were sympathetic, and both thought I'd probably be fine, but they don't know for sure. You can bet your sweet ass I'll be calling to talk to him Monday. And it should go without mention that I'll be talking to my department.

This shit cannot be happening to me AGAIN. But doesn't it just make sense that, if it were going to happen to someone, it would be me? The guy that has NEVER had anything happen in the academic world according to plan? That has dealt with more roadblocks than I can count or even remember?

Dammit...this cannot be happening again...

And I'm starting to hate this place...

Earlier this week, I wrote about how excited I was for 6Pi-Con this weekend. And I definitely was. Despite Hurricane Irene, the con happened. Here is my after-con report:

Unsurprisingly, the storm hurt attendance. I've been to five of the six Pi-cons, and this one felt the smallest by far.

Vendors in general were meh. But it's a small con, so that's not unexpected.

Among the last minute cancelations was the con's sole gaming vendor. If anyone knows the folks at Foam Brain, tell them they lost a sure sale from me. I went this weekend with the intention to get a particular game that they most likely would have had with them.

And to anyone that decided not to attend at the last minute because of the storm, you missed a good con. One of Pi-Con's features is that it is small. By the end of the weekend, you've probably met and/or talked to pretty much everyone there. It's a nice change from my "normal" con experiences, where attendance is counted in the multiple thousands.

The weather really wasn't much of an issue, at least, not here in Western MA/Northern CT where the con is held. Some folks left early just in case, others planned to stay an extra day, but if you were here, you missed the worst of Irene.

That being said, rain was bad enough this morning that I choose not to drive back to the con for my early morning panel. I don't feel too bad about missing it, especially since Sunday morning first panels are almost always empty. I was more worried about high winds when trying to leave. Turns out I shouldn't have worried.

My other panels all went well enough. The programming suffered from not enough panelists in some cases to too many in others. One of my panels switched time slots, so no one showed up for it. Panel descriptions were also quite rough in many cases. Luckily, most of the panelists that attend Pi-Con are quite experienced, and can almost always find something on-topic to chew over for fifty minutes. Or just make it up.

It was very nice to see some old friends that I haven't in quite a while. Jim and KT, I'm looking at you.

A certain someone (who knows who she is) needs to let her shoes out of the closet more often.

Another certain someone is incredibly amusing the more she drinks. But everyone that knows her knows that.

There was a "Guest of Awesome" reunion panel Friday night. The description said, "We'll see how much awesome we can pack in one room." The answer apparently is "None." Of the six Guests of Awesome (including this year's Trisha Wooldridge), only two were on site this weekend. So the panel didn't happen.

For those unfamiliar with Pi-Con, the Guest of Awesome is typically someone from fandom that the con organizers think is, well, awesome, and deserves to be recognized. Five of the six have been female, most of them have been published authors, two live outside New England, and four of them are personal friends.

The game room remains one of Pi-Con's strengths. There were people there all day Saturday, usually with multiple games going on at the same time. Finally played Power Grid for the first time, and definitely want to pick up a copy.

Hung around the Arisia party for a good portion of the night. Good times. Hermit cookies FTW!

Barfleet remains awesome. Even though I'm not an active member anymore, it's always nice to see them, hang out, have a drink or two and enjoy the vibe.

There was a guy in a satyr costume getting happily drunk at Barfleet. It was one of the most appropriate things I've ever seen happen at a con.

Con rule report: Friday 7/2/1, Saturday 6/1/0, Sunday n/a. I ended up not going back today. Mixed results.

Two different members of the current con comm (who I've known for a number of years) both indicated they want to "recruit" us (meaning my family) back into Pi-Con. We'll see how that goes.

Our fridge died Friday.

We're not sure what happened, or why. The front display started flickering, the ice maker door opened and closed on its own, and the lights rapidly flashed. It was like a demon possessed our fridge. Like good little geeks, we fled to our computers to see if there was something we could do to fix or reboot it. What we didn't realize right away was that the compressor was dead, too. Once we figured that out, the discussion turned immediately to replacing rather than fixing.

Like good little geeks, we started out shopping online. Between the four of us, we identified some good targets at multiple stores, and planned to go actually looking at some of them Saturday. As is typical for us, we found a good deal at the first place we went. Best Buy just happened to have the model we were looking at, in the color we wanted it, in the store. Someone had ordered one and canceled it. Instead of having to wait for a delivery (which, thanks to the tax holiday last weekend, would be weeks), we could bring it home today.

This was the end of our good fortune.

We finished our business at the mall, went home and took all the seats out of the van. This is what a van is for, right? Unfortunately for us, the box didn't fit through the rear hatch. It was just a hair too wide. Ian, being a smart guy, called for backup. Our awesome, wonderful and totally butch friend Laurel has a Subaru Baja, affectionately known as the ca-truck. It's one of those El Camino looking cars that were popular a few years back. We've actually moved large appliances in it before, so we were optimistic that the new fridge would fit.

She agreed to drive up from Connecticut to help us out. Luckily, we were right. The fridge fit. But it only fit if we stood it upright. I could describe it, but I don't have to. Like a good little geek, I took some pics. Sadly, Dreamwidth and Facebook don't seem to talk to each other, so if you want to see the pictures (in an album conveniently named "The Day the Refrigerator Died"), you'll have to go to my Facebook photos to see them.

Suffice to say, we strapped the hell out of the box with bungie cords for the drive home. On a normal day, the 10 mile trip takes about 15 minutes. With a refrigerator strapped upright in the back of a car that wants to be a truck when it grows up someday, it takes a bit longer. But we must have done something right. That box didn't move so much as an inch on the way home. We did get a bunch of funny looks, including two Springfield police officers who were too surprised at the obvious stupidity of the people driving around town with a fridge strapped to a ca-truck to stop and ask us what the hell were we thinking. After a somewhat tense trip, lightened considerable by our attempts at gallows-humor, we arrived safely at home.

This did not mark the resumption of good fortune.

The fridge was not going to go upstairs in the box. It was too wide and long by a couple of inches in both dimensions. So we took it apart in the driveway. Luckily, the manufacturer considered this as a likely problem, and had a handy-dandy set of destructions taped to the front. We rapidly disassembled the fridge, and moved all the little bits upstairs. During this process, Aimee decided, rightfully so, that the box was the best pre-made fort EVAR. Obligatory pictures were taken. The baby was introduced to the importance of cardboard forts, and even more obligatory pictures were taken. He was a bit confused at first, being inside a giant box, but came around in the end.

We were finally ready to move it upstairs. At this point, it was getting on to dark, so we were running out of time. The girls have a little hand dolly that we've used many times to move things around. We used it to get the fridge to the front steps. Sadly, it was not up to the task of moving this fridge up a flight of stairs. In the dolly's defense, I don't think it's ever been asked to schlepp approximately 300 pounds of metal before.

This is where what little good fortune we had completely vanished.

Ian and I, being manly men, decided to see if we could simply lift it ourselves. We were right and wrong. We were sufficiently manly enough to get it up the concrete steps. In the process, I almost dropped it on Ian. In the process of not dropping it on him, I wrenched my back a bit, and definitely pulled something in my right arm. We tried valiantly to get it up the stairs, but without better tools, it simply wasn't going to happen.

So, tomorrow we're going to UHaul to get an appliance dolly. They claim they are big enough for the job we need. Fingers crossed that their website doesn't lie. Either way, I get to tell you guys all about it tomorrow. Anyone that is more manly than I and able to help tomorrow will earn our eternal gratitude.

Me: You've had a pretty good day, kiddo!

Baby on Lap: (smile)

Me: You've played on the floor! And napped! And nursed! All that's left is a good poop and it's a perfect day!

Baby on Lap: (smile)

Me: That's right! A big poop! POOP POOP POOP! Because pooping is the best!

Baby on Lap: (bigger smile)

Me: (serious tone) Well...maybe nursing is better than pooping. I guess pooping is number two, huh?

Baby on Lap: (smile)

Me: HA!!! Daddy made a funny!

Baby on Lap: (biggest smile)

Twelve weeks ago, our little Munchkin was born. So while he isn't three months old until next week, technically he is. He's three lunar months old, how's that for a compromise?

All of the adults are caught in the same loop. We cannot believe it's only been three months, and what do you mean it's already been three months! And he's growing so fast! We've finally left pretty much everything newborn-sized behind. We haven't been able to use the newborn sized cloth diapers for more than a week already. It became official when we sorted the newborn clothes into "keepsake" and "regifting" piles earlier this week. I'm amazed at his growth despite his small stature. He's under the average in weight, but about average in length. If he turns out to be tall and skinny, I'll be OK with that. So despite his low weight, he's growing just fine.

What's really amazing is how expressive he's becoming. He started smiling a few weeks ago, genuine smiles, as opposed to "I'm pooping" smiles. He's learning to recognize hand signs. Aimee and Ian took a baby sign language class, so I've been trying to use them with him. We all have. I don't know if he truly associates the sounds we make to the motions we make, but he definitely likes to watch us do it! He likes it when we sing, too. His current favorite is the classic Top 40 hit, "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes".

He's getting much more vocal, too. He's always had slightly different cries for "hungry", "tired", "wet" and "infant meltdown". But he's getting *this close* to giggles and laughter. For you parents or kid-wise folks out there, he's starting to do the baby squeal that is the immediate precursor to true laughter. He's been giggling in his sleep for weeks (which, incidentally, is one of the cutest things he does), and I suspect that in not much longer, he'll be doing it awake as well.

He's developed a lot of other sounds and noises, too. But what amuses me the most is when he gets excited. When the Munchkin is excited, he flails like there's no tomorrow. His favorite place to do this is the changing table. I think the changing table might be his second-favorite place in the whole wide world, right after whichever of Mommy's boobs is currently available. He's a fairly fastidious child, and seems to like feeling clean. That "clean feeling" extends to clothing. He's positively giddy when we change his clothes. I've watched him, more than once, go from inconsolable mess to smiley boy just by putting him on the changing table.

His third most favorite place, though, is the bathtub. He's actually been in the "big boy" tub once, with mom, but most of the time, bathtime is in the kitchen sink. And like both of his bio parents, he loves being in warm water. And "warm" is definitely required. We took him in a "heated" pool while on the Cape two weeks ago, and he did not care for the cold! It was fine for the adults, but definitely not for him. When I found where the heated water jetted back into the pool, and stood there with him, that was ok. But otherwise, he was not a happy baby.

Essentially, the Raspberry is ripening right on schedule. He's growing and developing as he should, and we fall more in love with him every day. I'm writing this tonight, actually, for two reasons. First, it's been way too long since the last baby update. Second, he's off with his moms tonight, and won't be back tomorrow. It's the longest amount of time I've been away from him, and I'm not sure I like it. I'm actually home alone (completely alone, except for the four-feets. Even the downstairians are all out tonight), which is nice. But I kinda miss my son, so I'm writing about him.

Oh. And his moms. I miss them, too. But it's not the same. They go away on overnight trips a few times a year, so this is normal for them. But not Ian. He goes out often enough that it's no big deal.

Wait. I mean, of course I miss all of my partners equally when they aren't home! I'm eagerly awaiting all of them to come home.

But maybe the Munchkin just a tad bit more.

I stole this from Crystal, because everyone can always stand to hear some compliments!

Let me say something nice about you.

Comment to this entry and I'll tell you why I think you're great.

It would be nice if you could copy this in your own journal and do it for other people too.

Today was Der Tag. My written Master's competency exams. Two out of three went really well.

I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. So let's back this up a smidge, and begin at the beginning.

As many of you know, I had planned to do my comps back in early May, naively thinking that I would be able to continue to work with a new baby at home. My plan was to read while up with him at night.

That went about as well as I should have expected. So I admitted defeat, rescheduled my exams for June, and kept on preparing. I finished my prep last weekend, and went into review mode for the first half of this week. Then, yesterday, I did nothing. Kept my mind blissfully blank. Ideas would bubble up and around, but no active studying. It was heavenly!

Today, I got up to campus around 9:30, got my questions and instructions, and went to the library to write. Three questions, six hours, plus a bit for lunch. My questions for the Early America and Public History fields were fine. In one case, I had a choice of two questions to answer. Both fields had questions which were based on conversations I'd had with the two professors in question about my reading list over the course of the semester. In short, they were questions about stuff I was prepared to talk about, and to some degree already had.

The question for Global History was almost completely out of left field. Most of my list was about world-systems theory. The question I got was almost pure economic theory, based entirely on Marx and Smith. To prepare for this exam, I could have completely ignored almost my entire reading list, and focused only "Capital" and "Wealth of Nations". In short, I felt that this question was completely unfair, and did not address my reading list in any appreciable way. I said as much in the essay. I was pissed, and couldn't contain myself fully. When this whole process is over (orals are next week), I'll share the questions here (and maybe my answers, too), and you'll see what I mean.

So now, as I tweeted shortly after I finished, it is out of my hands. Until next week, that is. I get to do orals next Wednesday. Should be interesting...