Dissertation Episode 3: I’ll Have A Large Iced Tea, No Lemon Or Sweetner

I feel better about today then I did five hours ago. Since feeling like a failure at research I’ve watched a JCVD with Kate and it feels right to be working on the JCVD project once again (jcvdproject.blogspot.com for those of you who are late to the game).

But JCVD is not my dissertation (though wouldn’t that be awesome?) and what has actually prompted this latest episode in the galaxy of Dissertationia is the incontrovertible proof that I am, in fact, my mother. In order to explain what brought me to this realization I must first share a story:

When I was little, too young to be left at home alone, but too old to be easily entertained by shiny things, my mother brilliantly navigated the problem of needing to grade and me needing to be watched by taking me to school with her. In retrospect I’m amazed that I was never bored. Sure, there were days I was particularly petulant (come on, I was a little kid) but I don’t recall ever being bored. I was scared (have you been in a high school when all the lights are off? I saw parts of Nightmare on Elm Street at some sleepover and it was all over after that. Creeping shadows are never the same for a seven year old) and I (possibly) had adventures in the “faculty bathroom” but I was never bored.

Mostly, my entertainment was due to my mother’s brilliant use of movies. Mom would load me up in the van with pillows, blankets, and my bean bag chair (it was my very favoritist thing there for awhile) and we would go first to the video store where I got to pick any (almost) two-three movies I wanted to watch, and then drive thru for some lunch and then over to the school where we would push four desks together. On those desks we would make a little nest for me out of my bean bag chair, blankets and pillows and Mom would roll in a tv/vcr cart from the AV department. If it was really special we popped popcorn in the Home-Ec room. I was blissfully happy for the length of movie, usually two, and Mom got her grading done.

Looking back on it I have to say my mom was pretty brilliant.

Along with wracking up a lot of good memories, a habit was also formed that I hadn’t consciously thought about until today. No, not the movies (though we all know that’s a habit) but the ritual of getting a large iced tea before undertaking any hard work.

When we would drive thru, you understand, even if we didn’t get food Mom always got a large iced tea with no lemon or sweetner. In fact, the necessity of this iced tea has shaped our drive thru habits at times (McDonalds has the best iced tea and is therefore the favored restaurant while Wendy’s is rarely visited due to their subpar beverage service). When I was home over the summer and studying for my comps like a madwoman, my mom would come into my room and say, “I’m going to go get an iced tea, would you like one?” And I would say “yes please.” And just that one little act, the act of her bringing me an iced tea made me feel so darned taken care of that I didn’t lose my mind until September when I was back in Las Vegas with no iced tea in sight.

What I didn’t realize, even as lately as this past summer, was that the iced tea was not simply a drink, but triggered in my mind all the feelings and emotions of being blissfully relaxed and refreshed--either after working on the house, track practice, or whatever. In a sort of Pavlovian response my mind/body recognizes that anything is doable--so long as one can take a break to drink some iced tea every now and then.

Today I headed into school because I needed to research Joan of Arc. I knew it was going to be painful (and indeed, today’s experience was remarkably unfulfilling so it will continue to be painful) but as I drove up Maryland Parkway I thought, I should get something to drink. Carl’s Jr. is right across from my building so I just popped over. A crackly voice said “would you like to try *crackle* bac-*crackle* gian-*crackle* pie?” and I responded “No thank you. Could I just have a medium iced tea?” “Was that Hi-C or Iced tea?”

“Iced tea please. No lemon or sweetner.”

As I walked into school on my Saturday to work I looked down at my iced tea and thought, wow--I really am my mom. But I’m pretty okay with that. She doesn’t believe me, but she’s a pretty cool lady to be.

(And McDonald’s really is the best iced tea. As this horrifying experience known as dissertation writing continues I will be imbibing only McDonald’s beverages not Carl’s Jr. It’s important to have good tea!)