French brandy and a wake-the-dead alarm clock

It's hard to believe that I've been living in California for over three months. Where has the time gone? It's also hard to believe that I live 1/2 a block from the beach and work a mile away from Disneyland (the former being welcome and the latter not so much). Do you remember that iconic scene from Top Gun where Maverick rides by Charlie's old home (across the road from the beach and palm trees) which has the "For Rent" sign posted on the front lawn? That's pretty much where I live. I've managed to become part of the Seal Beach community in a short period of time (I even managed to get a free glass of lovely French brandy the other night from the bartender at my favorite seafood restaurant down the street). I know my neighbors, I have pitched in to clean up the beach after several big storms and I exchange friendly greetings with the regular fishermen who come to the pier in the evening with their families. It's nice to have a few roots after many years of wandering.

As for the rest, my job isn't too bad. I had some initial misgivings (and still have some concerns about different personalities and the overall direction of the organization) but all in all it's like any other job. You make of it what you will and weigh it against other priorities in your life. I like where I live, my pay is decent and I need to make sure I have a job to pay the bills and keep the roof over my head if this PhD gig is to work out. Speaking of the PhD gig, I still haven't heard from the department or my advisor, after the Friday all department meeting, if they have agreed to extend my time for another year. I had a series of good conversations with my advisor and committee this last week and made plans for a way forward. I just hope it all works out. It's a dramatically different situation compared to where I was 6 months ago but much closer to where I was going 5 years ago with my original research. The irony is that I avoided having this guy as an advisor years ago because: 1) he is brilliant but totally fits the stereotype of the nutty professor (as he has confessed more than once) and 2) he is a hard ass and makes his students work their butts off with no excuses. He read me the riot act last week, in a very civil way, about structuring my time and effort. From now on I'm supposed to be in bed by 8 pm so I can get my butt out of bed by 4 am to get in several hours of writing before I go to work. It makes sense since I'm brain dead by the time I get home from work but for a night owl this is going to be nothing short of torture. Perhaps I need to find a morning person of the male persuasion to kick my ass out of bed and make me coffee in the morning or invest in a wake-the-dead alarm clock and an automatic coffee maker!!!