Par-tay

Last night, we left Sash with M, our regular babysitter. We prepared her for the experience by telling her over and over again that a playmate was coming over. When M arrived and the pre-departure briefing was done, Sash took M down to the basement to point out everything that was hers or rather "Mine!". Obviously she was setting boundaries. We opted to take the subway downtown instead of driving. The party we were invited to was being hosted by a German colleague of D's who was celebrating his first year anniversary in TO. He was single and lived in a high rise condo downtown. The trip downtown only took 25 minutes and we didn't want to be too early so we decided to have a drink at the Fairmont Royal York before walking the 5 blocks to the party venue.



It was fun being out and about on a Saturday night, something we haven't done for ages. We don't undertake this very N.American thing called Date Night because, well, for various cost related and basic laziness reasons. It isn't that easy to get a babysitter, and at $12-15 an hour, plus tip and cab fare for the babysitter, a night out can add up even before we order the entrees. We don't see the point of going out to chat amongst strangers when we do it every night at home after Sash goes down. We used to do this over a glass of wine, but now it is over a cup of hot cocoa. And we are not too fussed about food so if we want to eat something different, we just order in and set the table with nice cutlery, light the candles and eat away. Hence the strange but familiar sense of "freedom" last night as we walked amongst the Saturday night revellers.

The party was swinging by the time we reached his 42nd floor condo. I must have spent the first 15 minutes enjoying the view, before setting out for the obligatory mingling. D's colleague is an SRI guru so there was a rather good turn-out among the faculty. I have attended a few of these parties yet find the interplay among colleagues most interesting. Being academics, conversation tends to revolve around data sets, the politics of publishing and juicy gossip about other academics (Did you hear about so and so being caught double dipping (sending a paper to two journals simultaneously).the shame..his career is over and has been asked to resign). The same conversation heard at conference dinners and casual parties. The lecturers will usually be among themselves as they are already in academic Siberia. You know how some people say those who cant do, teach. Well, among academic circles (or among the cynical ones that I know), those who can't publish, teach. Your main aim post-Phd is to one day never have to see a pesky student. Phd students are slightly above the food chain, but this is dependant upon who their supervisors are. If they have a BSD (Big Swinging D^%k) as a supervisor, they can mingle with confidence as they will probably, depending on their publications during and shortly after their Phd, never become a lecturer. Others that are not so lucky will plant themselves between other Phd students and other assc and asst profs who may be able to get them published. Asst profs will network and try to figure out who has what papers where, and whether there are any new projects in the offing. They will laugh at jokes told by Full profs, and extra hard when jokes are told by assc profs who hold chairs and are known to publish in FT list journals. Note that Full profs are at the top of the heap, assc profs with a chair slightly below, both have tenure hence are in the money regardless of what they do or if they publish anything else, but assc profs will still have to have a few more decent publications to become Full, or move to another Uni to get Full. And no, nobody wants to become dean as that would entail useless admin work. Admin work and teaching are considered to be the bane of staying in a research position. In fact, my Supevisor (who was a BSD..ehm) warned me early in my Phd years that I should not aim for high teaching rankings as that would signal to others that I am not concentrating on my research. The worst teachers get paid the most. (Remember that lecturer in Uni that you really liked cause he was always available in the office when you needed him..well, now you know) You publish, or perish. Your ONLY friend in this world is your publication record! So anyway, these Full and assc profs will talk/joke about their 2 day trip to Singapore or upcoming trip to, horror of horrors, Athens/Milan/Zurich, again..I mean, cant they find a new venue for a conference....loud laughter among asst profs and Phd students with BSD supervisors.

We told a few people I was preggers. And each and every one would look down at my tummy to, I don't know, check if I am lying. One wife of a BSD asked me if I did not think it a bit premature to tell people as I am only in my first trimester. Oh no, I said, I told people as soon as I was off the loo with the pee stick. She mentioned that some people just worry about other people's reactions if anything happened. I explained that I am of the view that if anything bad did or does happen, I would want my friends to know that I am grieving, and I expect phone calls, flowers, casseroles etc. I would need the support to get me through what I don't even want to imagine I would probably go through. For others that feel uncomfortable about the situation, well, to be honest I would probably have other things on my mind, namely ME ME ME, to be buggered about their reaction or lack of. So no, I have no qualms about telling people. Others asked if Sash was excited about the baby I told them that no, she still wants a doggie. I also told them that a few days ago I caught her arguing with her baby doll. She was pushing baby doll (I have difficulty choosing names for my own kids, I am not about to name their toys) around in the baby doll stroller when she realised she was in danger of rolling over her puzzle on the floor. So there was my daughter, the product of my genetic matter, lying over her puzzle protecting it from the stroller shout Mine! Mine! and telling baby doll off for something or rather, probably for daring to hurt her puzzle. That was funny enough, but became hilarious as I saw that it slowly (a bit too slowly actually) dawned on her that the stroller could not run over her puzzle all by itself. Baby doll of course just sat there. So she stood up, pushed the stroller around the puzzle, while still mumbling to baby doll. I was conflicted between wanting to laugh at my kid, feeling sad that she has to resort to quarrelling with a doll, and also worried that she was not going to take to sharing anything with the baby. Did I mention that her Dad has taught her this new game called Pillowfight, which she plays with her own dolls, thereby effectively smothering them. I pointed this out to D and he is now worried that we will be spending the first year protecting the baby from Sash. Another wife at the party told us about her kid who kept putting his baby sister outside. Another said the younger kid was more jealous of the older kid. All in all I can only hope D stops playing Pillowfight with Sash.

We had to leave by 10.25 to get back to pay the babysitter. We got home 5 minutes late, found Sash asleep, paid M, made some hot cocoa and sat down for a chat. It was a fun night.