rising_star

Honestly, if that's all you're moving, I'd ship the boxes (Amtrak, Greyhound, USPS, etc.), sell everything else, and buy new/used things when you get to DC. Between the truck and the fuel, that would be way more cost effective.

It's really difficult to say if that will be enough because it will depend in part on the nature of your field research. Will you be doing qualitative, quantitative, or archival research primarily? Are there relevant accents or dialects you'll need to become accustomed to? How much time will you spend actually in Russia using the language skills you're gaining? Are there any language courses (or sections of courses) targeted to the vocabulary you'll need to do your research?

I definitely did not misunderstand; even new postdocs need to be attending conferences in my opinion. In fact, I'm attending a conference in November. I will either have JUST started my postdoc the month before or will be getting ready to start it. That is about as new as you can get.
In my mind, going to the conference would be nonnegotiable. I would go no matter what. As a new postdoc that might be applying for faculty positions in 3-5 years, you need people to see your face, learn who you are, and watch you develop. Like others have said, it is okay to talk about your PhD work, especially if it is published. You can even talk about what you're bringing from that into your new lab. It is okay to say, "I've recently started a postdoc in X lab, where I'm bridging the gap between my PhD work, A, and how it contributes to B in my new lab," if you've been okayed to talk about it.
I've actually talked to people at conferences before who were like, "Well, I just started in this lab." We end up having an interesting conversation about their previous work and their current stuff. I think you're sweating being new, and you really shouldn't. You DID earn a PhD, and everyone at that meeting is going to know that science takes time.
Granted, if I were worried about experiments, I would schedule things out. I would make sure I hit the important talks and all of the poster sessions. And I would schedule myself to go to at least one social mixer for networking, but I might spend still some time in lab. I always have a notebook with me at meetings. People think it is for me to take notes, but I'm usually planning out experiments and noting important protocols that I need to learn to do an experiment. You're still being productive by going to the meeting, even if it feels like you should be in the lab.
I don't know your department head, but I know the ones I know would expect to see me at the conference no matter how long I'd been working there.

I sort of felt that way the first year of my MA (eons ago now). Then, I got some good advice from more senior grad students: your experience will be as challenging as you want it to be. If you seek out opportunities to go beyond the coursework, get involved in more research, learn to be a better teacher, etc., then your master's can and will challenge you. But if you don't do that and complain about the program, you really only have yourself to blame. Instead of saying you feel pigeonholed, seek out the things you think are cool, new, or interesting. Go to office hours to talk to profs about them. Read up on them on your own. See if anyone will take you on as a RA to focus on one of those topics. Your education in grad school is driven by you so make the most of it while you can.

Another option is to look for a credit card with 0% interest for as long as possible (18 months or more) and use that to fund the move. 

I would attend, especially if you're about to be applying for a fellowship. You want people to know you finished your PhD, are doing well in your postdoc, and where your research is headed next so that you can potentially find support for it. You don't have to go to every session or go all day. Be strategic about where and when you attend the conference.

I sort of felt that way the first year of my MA (eons ago now). Then, I got some good advice from more senior grad students: your experience will be as challenging as you want it to be. If you seek out opportunities to go beyond the coursework, get involved in more research, learn to be a better teacher, etc., then your master's can and will challenge you. But if you don't do that and complain about the program, you really only have yourself to blame. Instead of saying you feel pigeonholed, seek out the things you think are cool, new, or interesting. Go to office hours to talk to profs about them. Read up on them on your own. See if anyone will take you on as a RA to focus on one of those topics. Your education in grad school is driven by you so make the most of it while you can.

In that case, your dissertation project might not define the researcher you'll become, but it will certainly influence the way you present yourself when you go on the job market your first few years out of grad school. You'll find yourself saying things like "I am broadly interested in XYZ; in my dissertation, I specifically study ABC and conclude that [blah]" fairly often when introducing yourself to people. Your dissertation topic will obviously change how the ensuing conversation goes and how people then perceive you. It might change what jobs you're perceived as most qualified for. Now, that said, it's also not the be-all end-all of your career. There's something to be said for picking the more promising project, especially if the other project is in a similar area so it doesn't change your academic profile as much. Another important factor is who you'll end up working with. A wonderful topic with a difficult advisor might not be worth it. But also keep in mind that the dissertation writing process is hard, even when you're very passionate about your project, so you should be at least somewhat enthusiastic about whatever you choose now. Something my advisors said to me that I came to appreciate a lot was not to put everything in my dissertation, and instead to have a project that's in earlier stages that could become my first post-PhD project. This was important because it removed a lot of the struggles that I saw some peers go through trying to figure out what to do next, now that this huge project they invested a few years of their lives in was suddenly over. So even if you don't pick a project to run with now, it doesn't mean you can't work on it later. This is an important decision, but it doesn't have to solely define who you become as an academic. 
I hope you're noticing from this that I'm not going to tell you what to do. There are pros and cons to either decision and you need to make your own. 

There's been a lot of good points made in the thread, but I wanted to highlight this question because it seems to me that it hasn't gotten as much attention. While the others are certainly right to suggest applying to the best programs with people in your field, to point out that "fit" is often only clear in hindsight, and to highlight the importance of flexibility and willingness to engage with other topics and perspectives as a grad students, I don't think fit should be dismissed as a factor in narrowing down programs to apply to. The thing is, however, is that "fit" is hardly ever captured in terms like 'Victorianism', 'Romanticism', or 'Gender Studies'. All of those terms are broad umbrella terms that cover a wide range of research. If you start digging around in the secondary literature, you will probably quickly discover that a Victorianist is not a Victorianist is not a Victorianist.
The upshot of this, is that making sure a program has a few people working in your field is an inadequate way of determining fit. At best, it's useful for a first pass of eliminating potential programs. The next step is to spend some serious times reading CVs, abstracts, and if something catches your attention reading the article or book chapter. In doing this, you will probably find that many people who are ostensibly in your field, approach their texts in ways that are irrelevant or at odds with what you want to do. Certainly, there's something to be said for being pushed in new directions be a professor, but I also think it's good to avoid situations where people are entirely unsympathetic to your approaches. Doing lots of reading, I think, is the only way to discover these nuances as an applicant. Even then, it's insufficient. In entering a program, you will almost certainly realize things about fit that you couldn't have known as an applicant. But I do think some research beyond labels of fields can help narrow down the programs that it makes sense to apply to.
Fun exercise: take a look at the CVs of scholars who have broad ranging interests. In my experience, most of those professors started out working in a well defined area of study and branched out later in their careers (probably when they got tenure but maybe later too). For better or worse, literary studies is a field based discipline and scholars typically need to prove their chops in a well defined field before they have the liberty to expand to broadly beyond that. That doesn't mean you need to ignore your other interests though. I think looking at other fields is often a useful way to develop question to bring new light to your own field.
Also, in terms of wide-ranging scholars, I bet that in many cases their research interests, while broad, are perhaps not as eclectic as they may seem at first. Often scholars who come a broad period of time or geographic region are nonetheless motivated by closely related questions even if they manifest themselves differently in different places. To use Isaiah Berlin's terminology, I think that successfully broad ranging scholars in the humanities today are far more likely to be hedgehogs than foxes.

I always feel compelled to address people's impostor syndrome fears before anything else: Everybody feels this way. If they claim they don't they're lying. Academia is an enormous, nebulous, vague, intimidating, initially uncertain place, and it's absolutely normal to feel this way. I'm getting ready start a Ph.D. program this fall after sinking 10 years into two divergent careers and another half-dozen into two undergraduate programs. I'm now in my early thirties and I've felt like an impostor in every career position I've held and every program I've attended. In some cases the feelings tapered off after a while, in others they hung around and plagued me--and I've ultimately excelled in all venues. I feel like impostor syndrome is a healthy, productive (albeit completely terrifying) mental tempering tool. It keeps you humble, it drives you to keep up and keep relevant, it reinforces the notion that you should never stop learning and growing as an academic or as a part of society. If you can harness these feelings of inadequacy to motivate yourself and not let it tear you down, it can only make you stronger and more prepared. My advice is to simply be the intelligent, inquisitive person who was awesome enough to make it this far, and let the rest fall into place.
As to your question about research interests--I'll keep it as short and sweet as I can:
Work on what fires you up. Do what you love. Pursue your passion. Grab a shovel, dig yourself a nice little niche (with room for a bookshelf), and let the field settle in around you. There's certainly something to be said for bolstering or fleshing out existing research within the academic boundaries of a field/subfield that has already been well-defined--and if that's where your interests lie, that can be a win/win situation. If you don't fall directly into one of those molds, that's great too; find a vein that piques your intellectual curiosity and follow it until something unique catches your attention off to one side or another. If you don't fall anywhere near any mold, refer to my advice about the shovel. Choose your field based on your strengths and interests, but choose the trajectory of your research within that field based on your passions. Following your passion will lead to a happier life, as well as a stronger, more inspired body of work. This advice won't work for everybody, and I'm positive that some people disagree with the stance (because they have before)--but what is the point of dedicating our lives to the pursuit of knowledge and empowered education if we're not absolutely enthralled with what we're diving into?
This advice might also be a bit dangerous to take when initially applying to graduate programs, because you really have to watch your audience and make sure you're not flying off on a lark. In that case I'd recommend taking a more tempered approach and only revealing the depth of your lunacy after you've been accepted.
Personally, I've always known that my passions are splattered across a broad spectrum of science disciplines, as well as linguistics, psychology, neuroscience, philosophy, ethnography, climatology, and a number of other fields. I've also always known that my skills, strengths, and general interests are deeply rooted in English and composition. So, because I always felt like an academic outsider that never really belonged any one place in particular, I just grabbed a shovel and dug myself a niche in the Rhet/Comp wing of a great English department, and I now plan to spend a huge chunk of my life trying to deep-dive into rhetoric of science for the good of humanity (or so I tell myself). Without getting into too much detail, my primary research goals involve the intersection between climate change, ecocriticism, rhetoric, public policy, and writing across the disciplines. When I arrived at this conclusion and wrote my SoP and writing samples, I often felt like this was an uninhabited space in the void of academia--which was both gratifying and petrifying--but I've since encountered a solid handful of others whose research interests and published works align very closely with mine, and I could tell they also used shovels to get where they were. I also have about ninety thousand other interests that will inevitably try to swallow me whole, but I've been told that a huge part of graduate school is learning how to pare down your scope to focus in on a sensible, defensible topic, and I look forward to that. 
TLDR version: Stop trying to cram yourself into a sardine can with five million other people. If you like that sardine can, that's wonderful--but why try to block-format your intellect to fit a mold? Find your niche and stand your ground. Figure out how to shape your interests to fit the field you intend to enter. Find a program or department that aligns itself with the way you see the field. Figure out what truly excites you academically and chase it. You'll either succeed splendidly or you'll crash, burn, fail, be miserable, and give up on life. What do you have to lose?

I would think beyond the WS about reasons to attend conferences. Here are the main reasons, imo.
You get to meet with potential advisors in person and discuss your interests with them. This also gives you a chance to learn about their personality and get some insight into whether that personality is compatible with yours.  At the graduate level, your class papers can be the background for your conference papers. The conference papers, in turn, can form the early stage of your publications. Thus, the feedback you get in a conference presentation can help you refine your ideas for future publications, which will make them stronger. You might also learn the names of people who you can suggest as referees when you do send it out. If you have any interest in becoming someone who does co-authored publications, going to conferences is a great way to meet others with similar interests who you might be able to write or organize panels with in the future. It's a great way to stay current on what's going on in your field and subfield. It'll help you learn what is up and coming and where the field is headed.  The way you become a better presenter is by presenting. And ultimately you'll have to present your work to finish your degree and get your work out there. Sure, you can hate the term "professionalization". But, if you aren't willing to engage in some, then you may want to reconsider your plans.

For note-taking (not so great for writing papers, since you don't have the full version of word), I've loved my chromebook. I got a lenovo for about $160 two years ago, and it's holding up fine. The battery life is about 7-8 hours. 

I would think beyond the WS about reasons to attend conferences. Here are the main reasons, imo.
You get to meet with potential advisors in person and discuss your interests with them. This also gives you a chance to learn about their personality and get some insight into whether that personality is compatible with yours.  At the graduate level, your class papers can be the background for your conference papers. The conference papers, in turn, can form the early stage of your publications. Thus, the feedback you get in a conference presentation can help you refine your ideas for future publications, which will make them stronger. You might also learn the names of people who you can suggest as referees when you do send it out. If you have any interest in becoming someone who does co-authored publications, going to conferences is a great way to meet others with similar interests who you might be able to write or organize panels with in the future. It's a great way to stay current on what's going on in your field and subfield. It'll help you learn what is up and coming and where the field is headed.  The way you become a better presenter is by presenting. And ultimately you'll have to present your work to finish your degree and get your work out there. Sure, you can hate the term "professionalization". But, if you aren't willing to engage in some, then you may want to reconsider your plans.

I don't have ideas about departments, other than to suggest you like at Communications, Anthropology, and English departments as possible options. That said, wanting to start in Spring 2019 puts you off the traditional US graduate admissions cycle for a PhD program, which make both being admitted and getting funding much less likely.

Another option is to look for a credit card with 0% interest for as long as possible (18 months or more) and use that to fund the move. 

I would think beyond the WS about reasons to attend conferences. Here are the main reasons, imo.
You get to meet with potential advisors in person and discuss your interests with them. This also gives you a chance to learn about their personality and get some insight into whether that personality is compatible with yours.  At the graduate level, your class papers can be the background for your conference papers. The conference papers, in turn, can form the early stage of your publications. Thus, the feedback you get in a conference presentation can help you refine your ideas for future publications, which will make them stronger. You might also learn the names of people who you can suggest as referees when you do send it out. If you have any interest in becoming someone who does co-authored publications, going to conferences is a great way to meet others with similar interests who you might be able to write or organize panels with in the future. It's a great way to stay current on what's going on in your field and subfield. It'll help you learn what is up and coming and where the field is headed.  The way you become a better presenter is by presenting. And ultimately you'll have to present your work to finish your degree and get your work out there. Sure, you can hate the term "professionalization". But, if you aren't willing to engage in some, then you may want to reconsider your plans.

Take the job. Use the experience you get to help you refine your interests for a future PhD program.

I would think beyond the WS about reasons to attend conferences. Here are the main reasons, imo.
You get to meet with potential advisors in person and discuss your interests with them. This also gives you a chance to learn about their personality and get some insight into whether that personality is compatible with yours.  At the graduate level, your class papers can be the background for your conference papers. The conference papers, in turn, can form the early stage of your publications. Thus, the feedback you get in a conference presentation can help you refine your ideas for future publications, which will make them stronger. You might also learn the names of people who you can suggest as referees when you do send it out. If you have any interest in becoming someone who does co-authored publications, going to conferences is a great way to meet others with similar interests who you might be able to write or organize panels with in the future. It's a great way to stay current on what's going on in your field and subfield. It'll help you learn what is up and coming and where the field is headed.  The way you become a better presenter is by presenting. And ultimately you'll have to present your work to finish your degree and get your work out there. Sure, you can hate the term "professionalization". But, if you aren't willing to engage in some, then you may want to reconsider your plans.

Agreed with @OHSP. I would also check the program requirements to see what possibilities there are for you to take courses in another department. It could be that you need to or are able to, which would give you an opportunity to take courses in the history department at the university you'll be starting at to get a feel for whether history is really the field you need to be in to pursue your interests.

Don't do this.
If I was reading a candidate's diversity statement and read what you described, it would seem that you are being dismissive of the real struggles people from under-represented backgrounds actually face. At best, you would seem naive and uninformed, and at worst, it would appear that you are co-opting a space that is not meant for you. To me, this would be like showing up to a campus support group for people struggling with X and telling everyone about how great you are instead of sharing relevant experiences.
And if the reader doesn't actually care about diversity in their student population, then it is unlikely that being quirky here will help you anyhow. They might not even read that essay.
---
Now hopefully something more useful/helpful. Have you done any work towards increasing diversity in your undergraduate student groups or overall population? Generally, an undergraduate may not have much influence on the admissions process at their school, but there are smaller scale things that might be relevant. For example, if you were part of the leadership team of a student organization, did you do work towards ensuring your organization reflects the population you were representing/advocating/supporting etc.? Did you actively seek diversity in recruiting new members and/or new directors? Just an example.
Someone who is serious about increasing the diversity of their student body will value these attributes because it is not very effective to simply increase diversity for the sake of being able to say there are X people from underrepresented groups. It is important to cultivate a culture that values diversity and build support infrastructure that allows everyone to thrive, not just be present. So, people from majority/overrepresented populations in their fields can be very valuable in terms of diversity if they will be good allies and advocates.

Conferences are important because they show that you're actively involved in research. Attending and presenting can also help articulate your points and give you new ideas for research. Also, the networking is real. I attended a comic arts conference, got a panelist's contact info, and was invited to attend a more in depth panel about utilizing comics in the classroom. 
 
I haven't yet presented at one during my MA, but I know I am prepared because of the ones I've been to so far. 

People do change PhD programs, and I don't think your ability to get into a history program would be hampered by the fact that you'd previously started an art history PhD--it would just require explanation (e.g. once I started coursework I realised that to do the work I want to do I need history training [if anything that's flattering to an admissions committee]) BUT also, for now, I would see how you find the art history program that you've already accepted. Pre-grad school June/July regrets and what-ifs are really, really normal and I personally don't think there's much harm in just starting your program and feeling it out--it might be that you're actually allowed to work in a really interdisciplinary way and that you and some other cohort members become a group who are more history/art history than just "art history", if that makes sense. Then once you're in and you've settled, if you're still wondering about changing then it's time to talk to your advisor seriously about whether it's the right program. 

I passed y'all! I'm convinced my success is at least in part due to good vibes from friends and family, so thank you thank you!

Um, I really doubt your temporary academic advisor is expected to become your research advisor. My department purposely assigns us an academic advisor who we are unlikely to work with so that the incentives are well aligned. For example, a research advisor could push you to spend more time in the lab without caring too much about how you are doing as far coursework, quals, and career development. You want your academic advisor to be a neutral sounding board until you are sure you jave found a research advisor you are willing to trust your career with.
 
You made the right choice. Relax.

Are you still considering whether you should go to grad school or stay at a boring job? This was exactly what I was pondering a couple years ago. Now I want to tell you that grad school experience might be the best you would ever have.
Here's my story. 
I graduated from university in 2010 with a B.A. degree. In the second last semester, a Politics course just changed my life forever. I wasn't the best student in my class in any way, in fact I was probably the furthest from top student quality. I didn't study hard, nor did I receive satisfying grades. To the contrary, I was one of those absent-minded ones who struggled to stay above a 2.0 CGPA for elective courses. Sure I did okay for mandatory courses of my major but no one in my social circle including myself thought saw me as particularly intellectual. It wasn't until that I took that one course called Political Economy of media which sort of shook me to the core. I was totally hooked. Thereafter, I wanted to go back to school badly. Had several jobs here and there but none of them was particularly successful. This is not because I wasn't good at my job but it is just that I didn't feel fulfilled. In other words, I was hungry for that intellectual stimulation. At the age of 31, I applied to grad school in London, England studying Politics. During the year I was there, I felt like a different person. I was truly happy. I got to hang out with people who are also interested in things I love, which is very rare to find in my city. I also got to know a few of brilliant professors who I admired. Now I am a part-time teacher and also a freelance writer. now looking back, I wouldn't change a thing. My life as a graduate student in London was the best experience in my life.