I am starting to learn the lifestyle of the smart and confused, i.e. academics. I had a totally, totally, totally embarrassing week, and I totally, totally, totally blame academia. So for those of you reading this as you are debating the PhD experience, heed this warning. I have learned that there are checks and balances, where you can look smart on paper, but not necessarily in real life.
I was working *so hard* last week and this week writing abstracts, reviewing and presenting articles on empirical research, and the 40% seminar and paper on the unmentionable book. I really wanted to finally have a party (clothing swap with the girls, followed by potluck) at my house so I could get to know my school friends better with the obvious intention of making a good impression. I had mentioned it to about seven people, so it seemed only fair to just send out an Evite invitation on a break from intense thinking on Monday for a party on Friday. I promptly forgot about it and kept writing everything that was due by Thursday.
On Wednesday, I realized that my blinds to the huge window on my bedroom look pretty see-through with the lights on. Oops. Not that that has to do with academia, but it heightened the feelings of embarrassment of the week. Or maybe it does have to do with academia, because I’ve simply been too preoccupied in my ivory tower for two months to even bother to wonder how much of me my neighbours can see.
The trend continued on Thursday, when I went to school still feeling but pretending that my discovery on Wednesday didn’t happen. For some reason, in class, and then at trivia night, my cohorts teased me about how they read my Evite as a clothing optional party. As I edited my paper in class and during my break, I dismissed their jokes since I figured they made something up to tease me about, and pointed out that not everyone had to participate in the clothing swap and reassured them they should come. When I got home, my landlord handed me something that I can’t even mention that I had left in the dryer. My cheeks continued to burn, since I *always* triple check the washer and dryer precisely so that this type of thing does *not* happen! Once again, thoughts of my stupid paper keeping me in the ivory tower, rather than using my street smarts surfaced.
The next day I went into the Evite website to send it to someone I had missed, and I saw that I had labeled the title of the party (hence, the title of the email) “Potluck and optional clothing swap”. I blinked and re-read it. Yes, I actually wrote “optional clothing” as the title to the party, and it sat in my friends’ inboxes, including people who stay nearly *completely* covered for religious reasons, for days. I noticed that several people (who didn’t know me very well) had viewed the Evite, but had not responded. I believe I even invited people to bring their kids. To. A. Naked. Party.
To try to undo the embarrassment damage, I sent another reminder to the party, writing that no, I’m not that exciting, and I did not mean an optional clothing party. And I edited the title, and sent the reminder….and the title DIDN’T CHANGE. I sent a reminder with the *same* title. Argh!
Prior to this experience, I was already the co-butt of many jokes in the cohort. While some people think it was endearing and just injected some necessary hilarity into the week, I know that *other* people may bring this up in the final debate of the semester to try to get my off my game. I realize the only thing to do is to tell the joke first, so I look like I’m totally cool with my blunder.
