...which will explain any spelling mistakes, 'k?
I have NO RESULTS. I have spent six effing months on research for a dissertation, and because of the physiotherapy teaching establishment's idiocy, obstinacy, protected privilege, and unwillingness to engage with disabled people and disability researchers, I have no results.
My very sweet tutor says it's all going to be OK, and that I have other things to talk about, including sociologically significant reasons for having no results. But I can't avoid the sinking feeling that says I'm going to get a 65 on this dissertation and miss out on my distinction (for which I need at least a 68), and not be able to get funding for a PhD, and generally end up with no sodding idea what I'm going to do with my life next.
Over on my lovely fandom posting board, we are talking etymology, words that offend everyone from feminists to disabled people, reclaiming terminology when you're in a minority group, and all that good stuff. Awesome. I love how disability-aware a lot of them are, on that random posting board that has nothing to do with disability at all. It gives me hope.
Hope: something this blog is sometimes lacking. Let us celebrate. More Pinot Grigio!