Signup date: 05 Oct 2009 at 3:36pm
Last login: 09 Jul 2010 at 12:42pm
Post count: 608
I would have LOVED to do fieldwork abroad! I did all mine in the UK within one county, which happens to be the same county I live in. While I loved doing the interviews and focus groups and so on, doing it somewhere new would have made it so much more exciting! Quite a few of my PhD buddies went jetting off to far reaching corners of the globe, and I couldn't help but feel jealous!
Fairycakes, embrace the fact that your memories of doing a PhD could potentially be some of the best memories you have because you were able to travel! Go for it, and enjoy it. It may be scary at times, but I'm certain you won't regret it!
Hey JoJo,
Don't feel too low. My family is the same. I'm the only one to have gone through uni, and while I know my family are really proud of me, sometimes they do/ say stuff unintentionally which can make me feel pretty hurt. Just know that they don't say it on purpose. I remember when I got my first paper published. I was so excited I could have screamed and as soon as it came out in print I emailed a copy to my mom. She still hasn't read it. That hurt for a while until I found out she'd sent it to all her friends to read, and that tells me she's proud.
I'm sure your mom is just eager for you to finish so she can introduce you as "Dr JoJo, my amazingly talented daughter", and it won't be long until she can. February is not far off!!
Good luck with the write up!
======= Date Modified 13 Nov 2009 12:56:33 =======
Jemima, remembering her manners, reached out to take the slight mans hand. He was cold to the touch. Jemima flinched, surprised by his touch. The man smirked.
"Who are you?" Jemima asked. She recognised him vaguely, but was not sure where from.
"Why, do you not remember me?", the short man responded. "I'm your uncle Carlos, did your father not tell you we were expecting you?"
Jemina suddenly realised where she knew the man from. Her memory frightened her somewhat. She had seen him before. He had been to her house before. In fact he had been several times during her youth. The last time she had seen him was the day her mother had disappeared...
I always work with music... my iPod is a PhD survival staple. I just put on my favourite bands and I'm good to go.
I think musical preference is quite personal, so I'd just suggest finding something you like and go from there.
If you want some good chillout stuff though, I'd reccommend Air.
It's so strange reading other peoples experiences... especially of sharing an office. I said before that I share an office with about 8 others. I didn't mention the fact that I'm the only one who ever really comes in on a day to day basis. I'll quite often have this huuuugggeee office to myself. It's a running joke with other uni staff, who will come in and say "Geez, its busy in here today. Can't move for all the people".
We have a hot desking system too, but considering the amount of time I spend in the office, I've nabbed a nice corner for myself, where I keep all my books and papers, and have put pictures up, etc. It seems silly to clear away all my stuff every night just incase for whatever reason I come in the next day and EVERYONE is there needing a desk. I know it won't happen.
I quite like having the office to myself though. It gets too noisy when more people come in, especially those who come in to just use the phone. Some people have no consideration for others. It annoys me. I'd be perfectly happy having an office to myself. Maybe I'm just anti-social though.
I have decided to make today more worthwhile.
I was completely shattered yesterday, but still managed to drag myself to training (sports-related), and my coach won't let me slack. I'm glad of it though because I managed to get a PB :-).
So I've figured, if I can get a PB when I'm completely knackered, I can force myself to get more work done as well. I'm feeling motivated today... I will finish that chapter!
======= Date Modified 11 Nov 2009 09:39:50 =======
Confused, Jemima looked up at her father. She was expecting some sort of explanation from him, but was not sure what. How could he possibly explain this strange, yellow bus waiting outside their three bed semi? It made no sense to her.
The bus sounded its horn again. There was a sense of urgency in the frantic waving of the bus driver. He was summoning her. Jemima, still dazed, grasped her school bag. With one final, uncertain look up at her father, she turned the handle of the front door, and walked down the stone drive...
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