Happy Academic New Year!


I don’t normally take such a long break from blogging, but my oh my, has the past week been busy. I completed and turned in my dissertation prospectus (more on that in another post), started physical therapy, cleaned my house to a degree that’s genuinely unnerving, and started filling my freezer with enough home-cooked meals to last me a couple months. We’re talking at least twenty four hours, probably more, devoted exclusively to cooking and cleaning.

Suddenly, I see a number of parallels between my back-to-school fussing and doomsday prep. But it’s not doomsday I’m prepping for, it’s Academic New Year!

Tomorrow our (read: grad students’) first day back in the saddle. The undergrads will return days later, in—and this is patently absurd—October. “First Day” is putting it strongly. We’re having a meeting, taking professional photos for our department’s website, and enjoying a potluck at the park. Doesn’t matter. The first day of school is always light. It still counts.

As far as I’m concerned, starting the school year this late is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS TERRIBLE. On the other hand, I’m more desperate to get back than I’ve ever been. I’ve been holed up in my apartment by myself for two long. I think I may actually be paler now than I was when summer started. I’ve been productive, yes, but it’s time to return to polite society.

This impulse is comical at best, and pity-inspiring at worst. Because I’m on a research fellowship this year. I am not taking classes or teaching… in fact, I’m not required to be on campus at all.

To be clear: I am excited to go back to school even though I’m not really going back to school. Cue the sad trombone.

This isn’t quite as pathetic as it seems. Despite being one of the most disciplined people I know (not so humblebrag), even I occasionally need a little support. I’ve managed to not goof off for the past three months, but the impulse to work when nobody’s watching, well, it’s fading. Packing up my silly little lunchbox and going into the office every couple days is going to force me to engage with busy people, thereby shaming me into work.

You bet it is.

At least that’s the plan. I’ve never had this kind of freedom before, and I’m more-than-a-little afraid of it. I’m hoping to mitigate my freedom, somewhat, by forcing myself to show up for the next few weeks, until I have established a schedule. I want to wake up in morning knowing that my peers expect to see me in the dissertation research room, empty lunchbox in hand, with something accomplished at the end of the day.

This little mind game appear to be working, because my back to school butterflies are as alive now as they were when I was in grade school. The primary difference is that now, instead of getting stoked over the prospect of a new Lisa Frank trapper keeper, I’m daydreaming about resolutions.

The start of the academic year is my New Year’s Day. Yes, I celebrate the traditional holiday, but this is when the big changes happen. And happen they do.

Last year’s resolution was to develop an online presence. It was an aweosme resolution because it was broad enough that failure was unlikely, and the possibilities for improvement limitless. The only thing I knew for sure was that I REALLY needed to update my LinkedIn profile, which I’m pretty sure had gone completely untouched for a good four years at that point.

Tah dah! One year later I’ve put together a halfway decent website, started a blog, chaired a panel on public history and digital humanities, edited an online journal, celebrated my one year Twitterversary, AND—perhaps most shocking of all—finally updated my LinkedIn profile. Basically, I own the Internet now. I’m swimming in this space, and the floaties are off!

Academic New Year is real, and if you harness its power for good, the rewards will be bountiful.

When I think of the word “power,” I think of Terry Crews. Because duh.

Given how successful last year’s resolution was, I’ve been wracking my brain for months trying to figure out the perfect goal is for this academic year. This entire blog is a resolution, so—with all these ideas circulating—it’s hard to pin down an individual goal to focus on. But, of course, if you set too many goals for the Academic New Year, you’re more likely to be unsuccessful. I needed one good goal… anything else I improve in my life is gravy.

I’ve decided that this year’s goal is to cultivate a daily writing practice beyond the journaling I already do. I see this goal potentially manifesting in several ways: maintaining my blog, devoting more time to freelance work, finally submitting those journal articles I’ve been sitting on for years, and, of course, dissertating like there’s no tomorrow. Those are the possibilities that I see now, but if the last year has taught me anything, it’s to wed oneself to processes, not their outcomes.

Tomorrow morning, when I get up unnecessarily early to iron a skirt that will most certainly   be visible in my picture day photo, I’ll be doing so with a little extra spring in my step, because I know I have succeeded at changing my lifestyle, and will yet again. I hope that you all of you start thinking about one goal you can devote yourself to this year—wherever your calendar year begins—and know that you will achieve it, because you will.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m  pretty sure there’s a floor that needs mopping… somewhere.

“The Six Million Dollar Scholar” is the personal blog of Andrea Milne, a Ph.D. candidate in modern U.S. History at the University of California, Irvine. To get the story behind the blog’s name, click here. You can join the SMDS community on Facebook by clicking here and liking the page!

The SMDS “Suggested Reading” List

I have to apologize to those of you who’ve joined the SMDS RSS feed over the past week or so, because your (much-appreciated) interest in my blog happens to coincide with my needing to step away. A dissertation deadline beckons, so I need to hoard all of my creative juices, gremlin style, until Tuesday, October 23.

Until then, dear reader, I thought I would pass along a “Suggested Reading” list for those of you who are new to the website. These are some of my favorite posts so far, and hopefully offer a little insight into what The Six Million Dollar Scholar is all about.

My grandmother being nutty as she was wont to do.

Nude Models, Pot Brownies, and Frankenfoot: A Tribute to My Grandmother

I wrote this post on what would have been my grandmother’s eighty first birthday. It’s my favorite post because it’s about one of my favorite people; you’ll enjoy it because it’s a reminder that sometimes we don’t need to look very far to find a hero. In my case, I realized I grew up with a brilliant, hardcore feminist in my basement, a woman whose improbable life deserves to be the stuff of books.

Vito Russo, about whom an entire post is coming very soon. Born July 11, 1946, died November 7, 1990. His is one of the many faces I can't get out of my head. Click image to see the website this image came from.

What I’m Learning from A Giant Stack of Obituaries

I came home from my most recent research trip with literally hundreds of obituaries, and no immediate use for them. I’ve since discovered that they may indeed have a home in my dissertation. Even if that turns out not to be the case, they were worth the money I spent printing them, because they taught me a lot about myself, about the research process, and about the fiction that is the personal/professional binary.

Dear Diary

This post has a special place in my heart, because it’s probably the single most effective life hack I’ve implemented since starting The Six Million Dollar Scholar. At the time I wrote the post, I’d only been journaling for six days, but today I can report that, for the first time in my life, I have a daily journaling practice. it’s now been almost two months, and I’m still going strong. It’s incredibly rewarding, and—for an historian, anyway—a great reminder that not all archives are brick and mortar.

Taken yesterday.

The Human Thundershirt

Quite possibly the strangest proof-of-concept blog post ever, I demonstrate that my newfound ability to calm the world’s most disturbed canine is a sign that the world needs more blogs like mine. Plus, there’s an abundance of pictures of a sweet baby puppy dog face girl.

When One Door Closes, Make Lemonade

My summer session course ended up being cancelled, a highly improbable scenario realized by a perfect storm of utter lameitude. When I wrote this post, I thought I’d done a pretty great job polishing a gnarly turd of a moment in my teaching career. In hindsight though, it’s nothing short of amazing how everything worked out. After all, while I didn’t anticipate being out of a teaching job, I neither did I anticipate running into medical problems this summer that would have made teaching a damned-near Herculean task. Maybe, just maybe, the universe was looking out for me?

That oughta keep you busy! See y’all again soon!

“The Six Million Dollar Scholar” is the personal blog of Andrea Milne, a Ph.D. candidate in modern U.S. History at the University of California, Irvine. To get the story behind the blog’s name, click here.

I’m Shrinking, and So Are My Bills!

Last month I made a promise to myself to lose twenty pounds by Thanksgiving.

Before I say anything else, I want to be super clear that this isn’t going to be a “thinspirational” blog post. I promise. This is NOT the place to go for fat-shaming rhetoric. Fact is, I was actually *quite* happy with the person I saw in the mirror a month ago.

In the past several months, however, an old medical problem has resurfaced—albeit in a new way—and my mobility has been severely compromised. I’m heading to surgical consult number two this week, so needless to say, the process of getting better is going to take a while. Until then, I just have to make it work, which means limiting my activity, and taking pain medicine. The only other thing that I can do for myself right now… is lose weight.

Makes sense right? When you’re carrying extra weight your joints are carrying it too, and—right now anyway—mine can’t afford any extra strain.

I promised to lose twenty pounds by Thanksgiving as an act of radical self-care, knowing full well that it was going to be a major uphill battle given my inability to exercise like I used to. Good news folks: I’m about seven pounds lighter today than I was this time a month ago! Hooray for me!

Actually, there’s more than one reason to be proud of me. Here’s reason number two: I didn’t anticipate that this would happen, but in adjusting my diet, I’ve also started saving a TON of money. Like, my grocery bill for the week has been halved, and then some.

THAT, my friends, is knowledge I feel a genuine obligation to share.

In the past I’ve been surprisingly successful using SlimFast shakes to lose weight, but there was NO chance of me trying that again, because it turns out I’m a little on the lactose intolerant side. I’ve significantly cut my dairy intake, and never drink milk anymore. I know meal replacement (“drinking your breakfast” of a different sort) works for me, so instead of buying shakes, I’ve started making my own smoothies.

Poor graduate students everywhere: you do NOT need a Vitamix or a fancy pants juicer to make a decent smoothie. A regular blender does the job just fine. That first shopping trip—the one in which you acquire bag upon bag of frozen fruit—is a little painful, but after that, your weekly shopping bill will go through the floor. MY GROCERIES FOR THIS WEEK COST ME UNDER $40. That’s fourteen plus smoothies, ingredients for a giant batch of homemade Santa Fe style Beans n’ Rice, and the staple foods I needed to replenish.

NB: I cook and freeze meals en masse about eight times a year, so I always have a variety of dinner options despite only cooking one big meal a week. If you’re cooking all of your meals the week you eat them, your grocery bills are always going to be big. Sorry.

High protein smoothies are not inherently diet-friendly—in fact, you have to craft your recipes very carefully if you ARE trying to lose weight with them—so replacing one to two meals with this stuff isn’t just a tip for grad students to lose weight. Nope. It’s a tip for folks like me who (1) desperately need to save money, (2) can fill up on a “liquid lunch.” and (3) won’t get too bored with the “smoothie experience.” I’m pretty easy to please when it comes to food (really, I just want to be full), so, provided I get to have different kinds of blended fruit beverages whenever I want, I’m perfectly happy to drink two a day while counting my imaginary money.

I knew "The Incredible Shrinking Woman" was an actual movie, but never realized that  Lily Tomlin starred in it. Onto the to-do list it goes!

I knew “The Incredible Shrinking Woman” was an actual movie, but never realized that Lily Tomlin starred in it. Onto the to-do list it goes!

So there you go folks. A quick and painless way to save at the supermarket and stay healthy at the same time, brought to you by the Incredible Shrinking Scholar. Hit me up in the comments section if you’d like some recipes, or have some of your own that you’d like to share with the rest of the class!

“The Six Million Dollar Scholar” is the personal blog of Andrea Milne, a Ph.D. candidate in modern U.S. History at the University of California, Irvine. To get the story behind the blog’s name, click here.

 

 

The Six Million Dollar Self-Improvement Report Card

The whole concept behind The Six Million Dollar Scholar is that I’m rebuilding myself, and in so doing becoming a better scholar and person. As a result I’ve written many a post about my adventures in healthy living, good habit formation, etc. It suddenly dawned on me tonight that I’ve never checked back in on any of the subjects I’ve tackled.

Below is my report card. Like the proverbial spaghetti thrown at the wall, some of the changes I blogged about stuck, and some didn’t. But—also like the proverbial spaghetti thrown at the wall—the process has been quite fun.


Maintain a daily journal

PASS. With the exception of one day—the day before I presented at the Pacific Coast Branch of the American Historical Association’s annual conference—I have not missed a day. Twenty three days of journaling might not be much, but it’s about twenty days better than I’ve ever done before, so my “diary hacks” seem to be working.

Meditate every day.

NO PASS. I didn’t stay “mad centered” for even a week. While I think Headspace is an interesting app, I honestly don’t think meditation (or at least meditation as described in everything I’ve ever read/seen/heard) is for me. The fact of the matter is, I spend a lot of time being quiet and letting my mind go where it wants to go already, so I don’t get a feeling a gratification from formal meditation that’s significant enough to keep me coming back. I still aspire to meditate, but I’m throwing it on the backburner for the time being to focus on maintaining the good habits I have been successful in cultivating.

Force fun on a regular basis.

INCOMPLETE. This one won’t make much sense unless you read my previous post, “Forced Fun is Still Fun.” I’ve sent off all but one measly square of my adoptive niece’s baby quilt to be crocheted, but since returning to California, I’ve not touched my knitting needles. This is not a good thing, but at the same time, I’m only just now beginning to feel truly settled in at home again. A lot’s happened recently: I got a new roommate, gave a presentation at a professional conference, became *completely* absorbed by the murder of Mike Brown, got a nasty cold, and have been dealing with some medical issues that—while not debilitating—are logistically, emotionally, and physically exhausting. So yeah, I haven’t had the energy for my hobbies recently, but that time’s been devoted to sleep, which I’ve needed badly. I’m still a big proponent of forced fun… and as soon as my life settles into a routine, I’m going to reincorporate it.

Open a credit union account.

NO PASS. This is why a report card’s so important. I totally forgot I’d committed to doing this, and it’s something I can do on campus, with very little hassle. There’s no excuse for not getting it done. Shame on me.

Figure out the “budgeting” thing

PROBATION. On the one hand, I did exactly what I said I would do. I downloaded Mint, and have started tracking my spending. I’ve discovered some trends that surprised me in the process, like, who knew I spent so much at Target? Just seeing my spending in pie chart form has encouraged moderation in some areas. I’ve been eating out rarely, if at all; this includes going to places like Peet’s and its pocket-draining siblings. I’m also NOT buying clothing under any circumstances. But of course, in other areas, I feel like my spending is out of control. My laptop needed fixing this week, I dropped over a grand to attend last week’s professional conference, my medical expenses have gone way up, and just yesterday I purchased two expensive pieces of furniture to help ameliorate the chronic pain I’m currently dealing with. So yes, I think I have a much clearer picture of my budget. Is that reflected by my account balances? No comment.

Pay off remaining credit card debt

NO PASS. See above, and then feel free to chuckle a bit.

Take a personal finance class

PASS. Sort of. I’m not enrolled in a class of any kind, but I’ve started listening to the Money Girl podcast recently, and I can now say I understand what a Roth IRA is, which charitable contributions are tax deductible, the importance of renter’s insurance, and how to save money planning a vacation. (Okay, I might have occasionally dozed off while listening—wow money can be boring—but I totally know where to get information when I need it.) I also reviewed my credit, and made decisions about student loans for the coming year. So I’ve been learning quite a bit, but in an open-air classroom, so to speak.

Lose weight.

PASS. I actually never wrote about this particular goal on SMDS, but reviewing my report card is a bit depressing, so I’m ending on a high note. I’ll probably write on this topic later… suffice it to say I’ve lost six pounds in under a month, and I’m really proud of myself.

So there you have it folks, a heaping serving of realness. This was actually a really good exercise for me, so I would encourage you to do the same, and share it with the rest of us! Accountability is a truly beautiful thing.


 

“The Six Million Dollar Scholar” is the personal blog of Andrea Milne, a Ph.D. candidate in modern U.S. History at the University of California, Irvine. To get the story behind the blog’s name, click here.

A Week-Long “I Told You So!”

listen1

I’m back from my unscheduled hiatus with a message: listen to your body, or it will make itself heard.

I’ve been the recipient of this very message three times over the course of the past week. I’m hoping evangelizing is all I need to do to allow my subconscious, or the universe, or whatever it is that’s brought me the aforementioned message to move on, and start beating another dead horse.

I took a break from posting to SMDS because I woke up on Friday with the beginning of a cold. In retrospect, this shouldn’t have been surprising. I had been experiencing the emotional and cognitive impacts of pain management for a week already. The more I told myself I was going to be okay, the less okay I got, until I was no longer sleeping. My doctor finally convinced me to make the switch to a narcotic pain killer. That my body was eventually going to tire of being on red alert 24/7 is kind of a no-brainer. We’re talking multiple layers of denial, here, folks.

Nevertheless, when I felt that oh-so-familiar tickle in my throat, I responded much the same way I responded to the realization that my pain had become unmanageable: I tried to think my way out of it.

Writing this post is an exercise in 20/20 hindsight. Thinking through the past week, the difference between positive thinking and willful ignorance seems really obvious. Looking at that tweet now, I feel like kind of a boob.

And I should. That Friday, I kept all my appointments, added some new ones to the docket (because why not?) and declared that if indeed I was to become sick, I would meet my virus head on! When I wasn’t out and about, overdoing it in every conceivable way, I was at home, cleaning my bedroom furiously… because who wants to board oneself up in a dirty room? I did all of this in spite of the fact that my doctor had already ordered me to stay in bed. By the time I went to bed Friday night, I was sick, tired, and hurting like crazy.

Four days and many medications later, I was on the mend, enough so that I felt I needed to keep my appointment with my dentist.

I have always prided myself on having great teeth. I’m almost thirty, but I’ve never had a cavity, despite a pretty epic diet soda addiction and chronic acid reflux. In a family where trips to the dentist are almost always accompanied by bad news, I’ve always been the golden child. Until a few weeks ago.

Yesterday morning, I went in to the dentist’s office to get the first two of three—count ‘em, three!—cavities filled. Interestingly enough, that’s a cavity for every year I blew off going to the dentist, on account of being far too busy being a graduate student. What a boob.

When it comes to going to the dentist I am a model patient, and getting these cavities filled was no exception. It was neither painful, upsetting, nor particularly inconvenient—the whole experience was actually kind of interesting. That said, walking out today with my lopsided smile, writing a check for a dental procedure I could have easily prevented… it was my own private walk of shame. A walk of shame accompanied by lots of sniffles, and a bit of a limp.

I’m really happy to (slowly) return to life as usual. That said, I’ve realized I need to make a really serious effort to pay closer attention to my body. Listen to your body, or it will make itself heard.  The price I’ve paid for denial has been a steep one, and I’m too stingy to pay it again.

“The Six Million Dollar Scholar” is the personal blog of Andrea Milne, a Ph.D. candidate in modern U.S. History at the University of California, Irvine. To get the story behind the blog’s name, click here.

Containing “Ebolaphobia”

I sat on my hands for as long as I could, but folks, it’s time to talk about the Ebola outbreak.

Cards on the table: when I first heard that cases of Ebola were being reported in West Africa, I had a momentary freak out. I’ve been terrified of contagious diseases since I was a wee pup, when I made the ill-advised decision to join my parents in watching a made for TV movie about Steven King’s The Stand. I only made it through the first night of the three night series, and I still get goose bumps thinking about it. If I ever start digging a mysterious hole in my backyard, it won’t be a bomb shelter… it’ll be a poor-man’s quarantine unit.

So no, this is not a holier-and-not-so-coincidentally-smarter-than-thou rant about how silly it is that there are folks out there worrying about an Ebola outbreak outside of West Africa. I totally get it. This stuff is scary.

The thing is, I’ve made a career of learning about all the terrible things we’ve done to our fellow man in the name of protecting ourselves from contagious diseases we didn’t understand. So, briefly, I want to use the knowledge I’ve acquired to help other hypochondriacs out there who know they probably shouldn’t be nervous about Ebola, but still kind of are. You might not be able to un-learn the fear, but you can at least harness and use its power for good.

Before we go any further, let’s get one thing clear:

We have been culturally conditioned to fear Ebola.

If you’re like me, the word “Ebola” provokes an immediate response because, and only because, you saw the movie Outbreak.

The disease around which the 1995 movie revolved—“Motaba”—is fictional, but it’s also widespread knowledge that the writers had Ebola in mind when crafting their super virus. I haven’t seen that movie since the 7th grade, when I wrote a paper on it, but believe you me, I remember it very well. It was simultaneously one of my favorite movies, and one of the scariest things I’d ever seen.

(Note: the 2011 film Contagion may be the source of your paranoia, but it’s basically a remake, so we’re going with Outbreak for the time being).

The first symptom of Ebolaphobia is repeat viewing.

Here’s the thing: Motaba is indeed based on Ebola, but there are some really key differences between the two. The reason Outbreak was so freaking dramatic was because the virus in question was airborne. Remember the scene with the tiny tear in the hazmat suit? OMG!

Wouldn’t happen in real life. Ebola is spread through contact with the blood and bodily fluids of an infected animal or person. You can’t get it by the sheer act of breathing, much less by having an itsy bitsy tear in your hazmat suit. Ebola is scary, but it’s not Motaba-scary.

Okay Andrea, you say Ebola isn’t as scary because it’s not airborne… but you study AIDS. That’s a pretty scary virus tooI! Touché, imaginary interlocutor!

But wait! The containment period for Ebola—“containment period” being the time during which you are infected but not displaying symptoms—is measurable in days… sometimes weeks. The reason HIV/AIDS is so insidious is that you can be HIV positive and entirely symptom free for years.

Hard to miss symptoms like this, folks...

Hard to miss symptoms like this, folks…

So what? Most of us have a natural aversion to people who look really sick, especially when there’s a lot of diarrhea—and eventualy blood… Ebola is a hemorrhagic fever, remember—involved. The folks at risk of contracting diseases like Ebola,therefore, are the ones who run towards the sick: the people who love them, and the health care workers whose sworn duty it is to help them. Put put another way, if you’re coming in contact with the blood and/or bodily fluids of a person with Ebola, you probably know that you’re doing it.

None of this should be news to anybody who’s been reading about the actual Ebola outbreak, but a re-articulation of those ideas can’t hurt.

Now that you have (hopefully) removed your respiratory infection control mask, here’s my advice: every time you catch yourself thinking about Ebola becoming the next great pandemic, donate some cash to the people who are actually putting themselves in harm’s way to contain it. I suggest giving to Direct Relief. That way, you know that your unfounded fear is at least productive.

Me? I’m going to get back to writing about AIDS now.

“The Six Million Dollar Scholar” is the personal blog of Andrea Milne, a Ph.D. candidate in modern U.S. History at the University of California, Irvine. To get the story behind the blog’s name, click here.

Dear Diary

One of the key takeaways from my most recent research trip—a non-unique one, I’ll admit—was realizing how important it is to keep personal records.

In the course of two days I read approximately six years’ worth of film scholar and AIDS activist Vito Russo’s life. How much of it do I anticipate will make it into my dissertation? Frankly, not all that much.

Vito Russo

The ten-ish hours I spent pouring through Russo’s journals were nevertheless some of the most valuable that I’ve logged in my career thus far. Historians use primary and secondary sources in their work, but we also use intuition, emotion, and other intangibles we can’t fully account for in our footnotes (whether we like it or not). Russo’s journals steeped me in the ethos of the AIDS crisis in a unique way, and it’s left an imprint on both my mind and my heart that I know will follow me throughout the research process.

This isn’t the first time I’ve read somebody’s personal remembrances in an archival setting—every single time I do, though, I find myself sitting there wondering why there aren’t more historians in the world. It’s just so cool. The “intimate connections” that happen in the archive are a huge part of the reason I’m motivated to do this kind of work, and every time I encounter another life on paper, I start thinking about journaling, and the fact that I suck at it.

I am notorious for buying—nay, collecting—fancy notebooks in which I intend to write my life story, only to decide that writing in them would be a desecration. If I actually do write in them, I immediately re-read the content I’ve created and criticize everything from my handwriting to my sentence structure. In so doing, I determine that I’m the biggest jerk on the planet and who the hell would want to read about my life anyway so why don’t I just not and say I did? It’s intense.

At least, it was. I’ve been on the journaling wagon for a whopping six days now, and am happy to say that I think it’s going quite well.

There are two reasons I think I might be able to turn journaling into a habit this time around:

  1. I’m writing with a different goal in mind.
  2. I’ve changed the process by which I write a journal entry.

The former is largely a result of engaging with Vito Russo’s personal writing. I’m eventually going to devote an entire post to his journals, but for now I’ll just say this: while Russo a heroic figure in both LGBT and HIV advocacy, his journals reveal all of his deepest flaws. Every once in a while he’d write something that stopped me in my tracks, because it was so self-centered, or whiny, or arrogant, or etc. etc. etc. That was awesome. The stars, they’re just like us!

I used to imagine my great great grandchildren reading my journals and telling all their friends about what a great woman I was. After reading through Russo’s journals, though, I now imagine them gathering together to talk about the myriad ways in which I was kind of a jerk. We love the people we love not just despite their flaws, but because of them. This realization has helped me to stop worrying about the quality of what I put on the page.

My new technique for journal writing has helped me in this quest to uncensor myself, but there’s still the issue of carving out time to write yet another thing. Taking a cue from Greg McKeown, who advises that you should always write less than you’d like to, I decided that I would only allow myself to write for ten minutes. Can I plumb the depths of my soul in ten minutes? No. Can I give a basic account of my day and how I felt about it? Yeah. I certainly can’t claim that my journal has a wonderful voice, as it’s comprised of lots of super abbreviated sentences, but who cares? Writing is both my hobby and my job. If my great great grandchildren swing a dead cat and somehow don’t find my blog posts, articles, and (fingers crossed) dissertation, they just need a bigger dead cat.

Do you journal? Any suggestions for getting started/sticking with it?

“The Six Million Dollar Scholar” is the personal blog of Andrea Milne, a Ph.D. candidate in modern U.S. History at the University of California, Irvine. To get the story behind the blog’s name, click here.