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I think I have solved the outstanding nagging question for my dissertation defense prep: one of the people on my committee looked at my results section before Christmas, and wanted to know if changing my mediation-religion, essentially (Baron and Kenney, 1984 to McKinnon and colleagues, 2002) would have had me doing different analyses. The answer is, well, maybe: my high holy mathemeticians spell out the conditions under which it is appropriate to test mediation (which were not met, so I found another analysis), while hers' does not. There is no defensible version where I say, "oh your guy totally supports my assumptions" - he Just Never Says, Either Way.

So, I've been wondering for the last, oh, six weeks, on and off how I could prepare to get through that gracefully, and without doing Structural Equation Modeling (which is very time consuming and wouldn't have given me much). Tonight I looked at her guy's website again and realized there was just no way out. But, instead of giving in and spending the next four days doing SEM, I tackled the three paths we are quarreling about one at a time, via Sobel test. None of them were signficant, so my decision to not test the complete model was supported, regardless of the assumptions you are prepared to make.

Essentially: I win.

I still need to figure out distribution data for the measures I used when administered in other samples and compare it to what I found inmy sample, but this is not hard, just annoying. And then I will be as prepared as I can be, until I meet with my advisor tomorrow morning. I expect her to ask for a few changes and new thoughts, but am still really, really hoping to pretty much wrap my prep up by close of business tomorrow, so I can spend my weekend merely reviewing the paper and my notes, not frantically flailing.
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"They listened. They argued. They resorted to mathematics..." Terry Pratchet

Isn't this the outline for a dissertation? Literature review, setting up the model, [testing it], then analyzing the data to death and writing it up in numerical gibberish?
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Should I ever start a WoW guild or some other imaginary group that needs a name, I dub us Group Askew.

It's from a book. And I will quite literally mail you a cookie if you can tell me which one (no cheating allowed).
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I feel like I have spent the last 72 hours grappling with the ungrappleables, which explains the couple days of radio silence.

I still have nothing to say about them, and they continue to clog my brain.

In the meantime, I will say I made a fabulous blueberry "tart" for dessert on Saturday. Since KM walked off with my pizza stone, I had to improvise. Thus, I smashed a full batch of Joy of Cooking sugar cookie dough into a ten inch springform pan and baked a base that way, covered it in my Standard Dairy Deliciousness, dumped a bag of frozen blueberries from my adventures in U-Pick fruit across the top, and had an excellent dessert. My carb-eating dinner guests appeared to enjoy it, the maniac on the low carb diet asked wistful questions about the ingredient list, and I finished the last piece this afternoon. I am now resisting the temptation to make another...
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In my continuing effort to Not Grocery Shop, I have instituted the tradition of "random eggs." If you would like to join me for random eggs, I will be happy to scramble you two eggs and throw in whatever happens to be in the refrigerator (I can't eat just-egg-scrambled-eggs this often).

Today's random egg additions: Wild Rice and Canadian Bacon.  It really wasn't bad :)
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For the record: the new shoes are VERY tall, but I can walk in them. I am sure they would hurt after hours of wear or serious walking, but they are not painful off the bat. And, the ankle strap means I wont fall out of them, which makes me happy.
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We are having a silly controversy over here.  Let's see if you can help me out -

How old do you think I look?  Many of you have seen me in person (recently and not so recently), and you have all seen my online pictures (last night's entry, etc.) - based on that, if you didn't know how old I actually am, what would you guess?
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I seem t have achieved the liberal-with-a-conscience coffee trifecta this morning.

After walking to my neighborhood indie coffee shop, they filled up my reusable travel mug with coffee. 

So, no carbon emissions (1), supporting a local business which serves organic and fair trade coffee (2), and remembering my travel mug to avoid throwing away a paper cup (3).  I was amused.
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Perhaps I am the only one who finds this amusing, but I have given up on to do lists.

I am making a "to be smited" list for tomorrow instead.
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At some point I would like to post about the difference between significant relationships and meaningful ones, both in psychology and in my life.

And, it is worth capturing for posterity that the DBP director told us to "hum our way through" the overly detailed, insanely complex statistical methods employed in one of the papers we read for today.

Also, should I ask, the vacuum cleaner bags (Style 7) are on the floor in the box room. 
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Whoops. My class is just ending and one of the students lingered, to be the last one here, and asked, "Did I see you at [bar] last week? I thought I did, but wasn't sure."

I go out ONCE all semester, on a Wednesday night for goodnesssake, and am spotted by one of my 20 students. I mean, what are the odds?
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Today's lesson:

If you should, for some insane reason, need to saw PVC pipe into bits, and notice somewhat after the fact that there are little plastic curls all over your socks, THROW THE SOCKS AWAY. Do not wash the socks with other clothes (particularly underclothes).

- the woman who is picking little pointy spiral bits of plastic out of today's second pair of underoos

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I just ate a dinner that reminds me of my old college boyfriend: brown rice mixed with frozen broccoli, canned black beans, and diced tomatoes.  Of course the fact that I could actually taste all those ingredients proved definitively that M was not involved in its creation - all his "masterpieces" tasted of cayenne pepper and unwashed pots. 

I am playing what is essentially a game of grocery store chicken with the pantry. I don't want to go shopping - my credit card bill was a little high, so I want to slash the grocery budget, and grocery shopping is my least favorite chore anyways. I am learning I can go a long time before grocery visits, if I am willing to eat rice three times a day.
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The phenomenon of Cleaning For Company is a) a good way to get my house clean, and b) amusing.  After all, I don't live in squalor (ask my roommates from this summer - in their world I was the neat freak).  Instead there are certain things that I care about (keeping the clutter put away, not leaving dishes for more than 24 hours, staying up on the laundry and keeping the bed made, sluicing out the bathrooms occasionally, and getting all the garbage out the day the trash fairies come) and things I don't care about nearly enough to spend any time on (vacuuming up the dog-hair-buffalo, dusting ...well, anything, mopping floors EVER - though I have been known to sponge off the worst spots, etc.).  I went through a brief June Cleaver phase, mopping my kitchen every week and making the Flylady proud, and frankly life is too short. I was exerting control over a finite, defined universe since the rest of my life was a mess.  And, even then, it wasn't motivating.  Now, I just pick up the biggest fur-drifts (like snowdrifts, only blonder) by the handful and vacuum when company comes.

Also - this is one of the bad things about living alone. I would like to vacuum the upstairs (since my mom arrives tomorrow for a three day visit), however the vacuum cleaner bag was full to bursting and sporting a small but growing tear. I know for certain there are spare bags somewhere in this house - I remember putting them away during the move - but cannot find them.  And, since I am the only one here there is no one to consult with and no one to blame.  Sheesh.
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I was just described to a large roomful of people as a "free range intern."  The boss who said it was singing my praises, and my other boss agreed that they throw out data for me to peck up, but it makes me nervous.  Will I be showing up on the menu at an organic restaurant near you?
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If I had the ability to set up a poll, this would be a poll.

Please comment on this, with one of the choices:

Reading a book while brushing your teeth is something you do:
- Always
- Often
- Sometimes
- Occasionally
- Never

Reading a book while brushing your teeth is:
- Normal
- Not something you would have thought of by yourself
- Very Strange
- Something else (please specify in comments)
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So, my parents are going to a wedding out of state and I am in charge of their house and dogs for the next week.

I was out at their place last night for dinner, and failed at my assigned geekery (they need a server set up, their wireless printer reconnected to both computers, and the wireless internet secured. I couldn't even get the printer to work).  I made some joke about being the kid who throws a party when her parents go away for the weekend, to drink their booze and lure some geeks over.  Instead of laughing it off, my mom heartily endorsed the idea and then started counting beds on her fingers ("okay, two twin beds in the guest room, your sister's room is open, yours too - obviously, and then our room...").  So not only does she think me throwing a party in their absence is a-okay, she is endorsing a co-ed slumber party (well, so long as her computers get fixed).  She also suggested that a weekend house party in Homer would be great, if we wanted to haul all the computer bits down there and set up the network/printers/etc.

I am amused.  Obviously I am not 17 anymore (and 17 was a BAD YEAR at our house), and it's fun to see how far my relationship with my folks has come.

(I cannot in good conscience invite people over to put them to work doing tech support, so this will likely remain a silly fantasy of my mother's.  On the other hand, if anyone local feels like volunteering, I will feed you!)
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I know practice makes perfect, but I dont need perfection! Three flat tires in a month - two that needed to be changed before I could drive to work and one in a dusty Kasilof parking lot that had to be changed at midnight - is enough.

In contrast to my last LJ tire post, I no longer need the manual - you just take off the decorative cover, loosen the lug nuts (using the roof rack/ballet barre move), jack it up, take the lug nuts off and swap out the tires, restore the lug nuts using the start-shaped tightening pattern, and throw everything left over into the boot, and you are good to go.  I've cut ten minutes off my tire swapping time, and am now bored with the whole process.  What I need instead is a car whose tires stay inflated.

At the tire shop, I was informed that the tire in question (since all three flats were on the rear passenger side) had four patches - one of which was coming loose - and two nails.  And it was down to 3/32nds of tread.  And they didn't want to fix it. Two hundred dollars (and an hour and a half) later, I have two new tires - with warranty.  Hopefully the problem is taken care of, for awhile...
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Yesterday I went out to coffee with a friend of [profile] learethak's. This friend is now reading my LJ too - everyone wave!

I've now been told twice in 24 hours that I probably intimidate men, which seems a little . . .repetitive.

What do you think? Why do women of a certain temperament (think, say, mine) tend to scare the male of the species?


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