Dr. Shellie

My brain is whirring 10x too fast.

Computers for lab are half purchased. The newly installed power strips have misplaced plugs. A student whose sibling died in the World Trade Center will miss class on Sept. 11 for a memorial. I saw a large group of clarinet players standing in a circle practicing for marching band try-outs. Multimedia-equipped rooms seem more convenient than lugging around your own projector, but why couldn’t I find any focusing knob? Was there really a campus-wide decision to take away focus control from the end user? Grilled fish tacos are really pretty good. My student, newly arrived from China, has already had his bike stolen. A large group of girls in dresses and sunglasses were standing outside the nearby sorority early on Monday morning, doing something for rush. Like the clarinetists, I was taken aback by their numbers. I lectured my class today on why they should not ask me whether taking my class will raise their GPA. BestBuy is an electronics emporium, a land of plenty in which $100+ objects beckon from their tidily arranged shelves. I tried hot yoga at the gym. Or was it simply yoga in a room with too many people for the air conditioning system?

And there you have it. The type of blog post I thought I would never write: an assortment of random stuff going through my brain.

Tomorrow I am a teaching a class for someone else, who was called away for a family emergency. There are a few spots in the notes where I could not follow his derivation. Will I figure it out before 9:30am tomorrow? Will I write the offending steps on the board with a poker face, betraying no sign of doubt? Or will I cleverly shift the burden of understanding onto the students, by indicating that the missing parts of the derivation will provide them with an interesting challenge for next class?

When I go to sleep with unresolved thoughts, I dream strange dreams. Will I dream them all year long?

Two years ago I was in the office of a former classmate who had started his position as an assistant professor. He had ICal open on his laptop. Every single available block of time was filled, usually in half hour or hour chunks.

Within 2 1/2 weeks, this has happened to my calendar.

Would you like to have lunch next week? Sorry, all slots are taken.

Would you like to discuss potential research projects? I can meet next Friday at 4pm.

The first week went well. I have figured out how to send mail, connect to the Internet, buy things, get a projector in my classroom, access the gym, and a thousand other small things you need to do to function. My lab is being renovated and should be ready soon. I met my grad students and am excited to start working with them.

One notable thing about our campus is how many students wear MyU tee-shirts. At any given time (and not just on game days) you might stroll across campus and see the following: a group of students in MyU t-shirts eating lunch, a facilities worker with MyU logo on his uniform and a MyU baseball cap, a food service worker with a MyU uniform, several giant banners advertising different MyU Initiatives or departments, and uncountable other students walking by in MyU shirts/sweats/polos, etc. My unscientific estimate is that about half of the people you see are wearing some kind of university apparel. There is also a remarkable uniformity in color scheme, with all official university items (banners, street signs, information booths, temporary barriers around construction sites) conforming to school colors. I just received a copy of the alumni magazine, and apparently there is polling data showing that our alumni are more apt to promote the university than average university students across the nation.

Suppose your students’ office space has room for only two of the following three groups of items. Which do you choose?

1. Sink, microwave, and coffee maker

2. Sofa

3. Round table with chairs and whiteboard

Additional information: there is no conference room or women’s bathroom on the floor, and no common kitchen or lounge in the building (at least, not that I have found yet).

Discuss.

I went to meet the facilities manager yesterday to discuss lab renovations for the fall. At some point they asked whether white was OK for the student office space.

"You mean I have a choice? I asked rather stupidly.

"Well it’s your space– you can have whatever color you want," he said.

"You mean, I can have it painted yellow?" I asked.

Yes, they said, I can have it painted yellow.

I was totally blown away by this thought.

Ok, so rationally I realize that being pleased and/or surprised by this is totally inane. After all, my university is investing a huge sum of money in me for my startup costs– initial student salaries, summer salary, lab renovation costs, equipment, etc. Painting the room yellow instead of white costs, uh, maybe $25? So I shouldn’t really be so surprised.

I think I haven’t yet adjusted to the abrupt jump in decision-making power between postdoc and assistant professor. Here at my current university, I need my postdoc advisor’s signature to buy anything that costs more than a hundred dollars. When I go visit my future university, people ask me if I need to make any structural modifications to the building.* It is startling. I must remember I am in charge now.