Oh, also, we were discussing whether a particular sentence should use the word "which" or "that." He asked me if I could articulate (and yes, he said "articulate") what the difference was between "which" and "that." I told him, and he told me that I had it backwards. I looked it up, and I was right. Really, do not cross me on grammar.

Matilda: The moon is following us. We have to get it a costume for Halloween. It wants to come with us. It'll be a pirate and say, "Aaargh."

I swear I didn't tell her the moon is following her.

Matilda: [very solemnly] He's going to do great things.

Hee! Just as long as she didn't follow that with the line from the first Harry Potter book: "Great and terrible things."

I told him, and he told me that I had it backwards. I looked it up, and I was right. Really, do not cross me on grammar.

You should email him a link and tell him this.

I told him, and he told me that I had it backwards. I looked it up, and I was right. Really, do not cross me on grammar.

You need to email him with your cite.

JZ says your adviser reminds her of the guy at Stanford who got beaten to death by a ball-peen hammer because he kept a guy from getting his Ph.D. for fifteen years.

Also e-mail him with that story, Hil.

Also e-mail him with that story, Hil.

Yeah. Except do that anonymously.

Your advisor is an asshole with power over you. I have no advice on how to handle that. The ball peen hammer thing, though not practical, is appealing...

And when I googled the story of the perpetual candidate (search terms: phd candidate advisor hammer), I was kind of appalled to find that he was one of about a half-dozen grad students to have done so over the past 30 years. He was the only one who chose to do it with a ball-peen hammer, though.

And, good God, he was probably none too stable to begin with, but his advisers spent nineteen years dicking him around, quibbling over this and that and sending him back to square 1 over and over and never actually letting him move forward or give up and quit (and it must have been near impossible to let go of it after he'd been there a full decade; so much time and effort invested already, it would have felt like death to give up) while he scrounged away at student teaching and whatever other part-time work he could find to fill in the gaps while he flogged away at the never-ending dissertation.

Matilda: [very solemnly] He's going to do great things.

When I got home this evening, she explained to me that she needed to talk to Barack Obama; when I asked her what about, she explained that there's a big chair at her daycare provider's house that he needs to move. I'm sure he'll get right on it.

I so rarely comment in here (although I would like to take a ball-peen hammer to Hil's advisor) but:

I wanted to be the village wise-woman - I would gather up various types of weeds and let them dry in the metal garden shed behind our garage, and pretend they were medicine.

I did this too! I also brewed various "teas" out of the various weeds by letting them soak in the sun and water. My mother very smartly never actually let me drink them.

I should note for those of you hearing Matilda's conversation in your head, she pronounces "Barack Obama" as one word. It comes out as "Baracka-bama!