Oh my goodness.
I realized a couple of days ago that I have just about two months before this is done.
I am terrified.
It's been such a chaotic, stressful few years that I'm not sure what will happen when it's over. I'm starting to feel bereft already, and I'm not even close to being finished with all the essays I need to hand in. Weird.
Granted, it's not as though I plan on re-joining the real world just yet, but it will be very very very very strange to finally have a degree after all these years (and yes, I realize that last statement could constitute counting chickens before they've hatched, but let's try to remain optimistic for my sake).
In the meantime, if you should need me between now and May 4th, I'll either be at work, holed up in the library, or in a corner somewhere crying and attempting to work out how long it'll take me to get my trucker license should this all go tits-up.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Friday, February 05, 2010
This would've been better had I written it last night....
Chuck Klosterman published a collection of essays that he claims to have written in that magic hour before you drift off to sleep when things get unimaginably and unexplainably clear.
I had one of those hours last night, but since it was around the 3AM mark, I didn't want to ruin my chances of quickly slipping off to sleep by turning on my computer to write it all down. Should've done. This probably won't come out as well as it worked itself out in my head last night.
First and foremost, apologies that this is my first post since late August of last year. It's been a busy time, filled with work and school and shenanigans that may or may not have necessitated a blog entry. So. First things first. Roll the highlight reel:
Work: Finally got a job! A sweet job! A well-paying job! Most of you know this already, but for those who don't, I'm tutoring the SATs again, this time for British kids who want to go to college in the US. It's great, and I've had some fantastic kids that made it all the more worthwhile. The only downside is that the commute for some of my clients is ridiculous, but it gives me time to focus on school reading without having too many distractions, or having to cloister myself in the library.
School: Last year. 44000 words to turn in before the end. Bit stressful. But. Have figured out what I'm going to do after I graduate (MA in history, MA in English, then PhD...at least two of the three to happen at Goldsmiths). So. Another five years in the UK, most likely all of which will be spent in London. Unless I get some hare-brained scheme together and decide to get a Fulbright Scholarship to attend Oxford. We'll see. Optimism is running high at the moment, though I have no idea why, and I'm ready to finish this damn thing already. Just in time for my 10-year high school reunion. Goodness.
Shenanigans: There are more of these than there should be, I think, and far too many to list. Highlights have been my Mexican birthday, the eviction party, tequila sandwich, epic Thanksgiving, New Year's, Monopoly night, all the nights involving 2 for 5 wine, and my introduction to the Bunker Club (which I don't remember most of). There have been tons of good times just sitting in the kitchen with the housemates, blathering on about nonsense or being chastised for my staunch dislike of Michael Moore. And most importantly: Stella. Life definitely seems more normal with a cat in my life. Even if she does like Milroy more than she likes me. All in all, it's been good times since I last wrote.
End highlight reel. Onto recent thoughts.
So. Last night I got to thinking about the reasons I moved over here in the first place, and whether or not it worked like it was meant to. Mainly, I'd gotten into a really bad rut. I didn't really care about my job, didn't really have much of a friend base left, and generally just wasn't behaving myself. And I had this overwhelming sense that I hadn't really done anything worthwhile yet. Or traveled as much as I would've liked. But mainly, I needed out of California. So I left.
Sonja was a disaster. I think we're all up to speed on that one. If not, read back through this blog. But. Had I not gone to work for her, I wouldn't be four months away from finally getting a degree, nor would I have such a fantastic friend base, nor would I have a plan stretching further than next week. Goodness. So some things have changed. Big ones, but have I gotten any better? Have I gotten rid of the behavior patterns that put me in the rut in California in the first place, or am I destined to find myself in a similar rut in London?
(I feel the need to point out here that most of my late-night insomniac thinking is extremely self-centered. I tend to be able to work out other people a lot quicker than I can work out my own stuff, and it's a good way to occupy one's time when you can't sleep)
So I thought about it for a while (and here's where I'm going to fail to express my thoughts in as clear a manner as they manifested themselves last night), and came to the conclusion that while a lot of the behavior is still there, there are some facets of my life here that will make creating a rut difficult. I have too many external consciences, and although I may whine about them nagging me (only occasionally), it's good to know that I've got people around that call me on my bullshit. Whether I want them to or not. Knowing full well that I may disregard what they've said and do things my way regardless. Love you guys for it. You should know who you are.
Maybe this is where the optimism comes from. It's costing me too much to stay here to really risk screwing it up. So that, coupled with knowing there are people who will remind me of that should I somehow forget about it, reinforces my opinion that this is all going to turn out well. Despite the horrific wrecks of my first and second years. Bueno.
....there was more last night, but I can't remember it.
New business: Conway and I are almost done with our first week of Phase I on the South Beach Diet. I have never felt so decadent in my life. And certainly never about meals that are really, truly, 100% good-for-me. Although I did lapse the other night and eat an entire jar of peanut butter, but that couldn't be helped. We also started a new gym regime, but my luck being what it is, I screwed my legs up the first day. They're better now, and I should be able to start going back next week. Although I won't be going back to their 7:45am spin class. I'm not doing this to my quads ever ever ever again. Especially in a land where I can't barge into the emergency room and demand muscle relaxers. I can go to A&E, but I've been told the A&E staff won't take kindly to me deciding my course of treatment. Bummer.
Anyway, Conway is putting on a night tonight at the union, so I've got to go make myself purdy and steezy and SFG. Ha.
I had one of those hours last night, but since it was around the 3AM mark, I didn't want to ruin my chances of quickly slipping off to sleep by turning on my computer to write it all down. Should've done. This probably won't come out as well as it worked itself out in my head last night.
First and foremost, apologies that this is my first post since late August of last year. It's been a busy time, filled with work and school and shenanigans that may or may not have necessitated a blog entry. So. First things first. Roll the highlight reel:
Work: Finally got a job! A sweet job! A well-paying job! Most of you know this already, but for those who don't, I'm tutoring the SATs again, this time for British kids who want to go to college in the US. It's great, and I've had some fantastic kids that made it all the more worthwhile. The only downside is that the commute for some of my clients is ridiculous, but it gives me time to focus on school reading without having too many distractions, or having to cloister myself in the library.
School: Last year. 44000 words to turn in before the end. Bit stressful. But. Have figured out what I'm going to do after I graduate (MA in history, MA in English, then PhD...at least two of the three to happen at Goldsmiths). So. Another five years in the UK, most likely all of which will be spent in London. Unless I get some hare-brained scheme together and decide to get a Fulbright Scholarship to attend Oxford. We'll see. Optimism is running high at the moment, though I have no idea why, and I'm ready to finish this damn thing already. Just in time for my 10-year high school reunion. Goodness.
Shenanigans: There are more of these than there should be, I think, and far too many to list. Highlights have been my Mexican birthday, the eviction party, tequila sandwich, epic Thanksgiving, New Year's, Monopoly night, all the nights involving 2 for 5 wine, and my introduction to the Bunker Club (which I don't remember most of). There have been tons of good times just sitting in the kitchen with the housemates, blathering on about nonsense or being chastised for my staunch dislike of Michael Moore. And most importantly: Stella. Life definitely seems more normal with a cat in my life. Even if she does like Milroy more than she likes me. All in all, it's been good times since I last wrote.
End highlight reel. Onto recent thoughts.
So. Last night I got to thinking about the reasons I moved over here in the first place, and whether or not it worked like it was meant to. Mainly, I'd gotten into a really bad rut. I didn't really care about my job, didn't really have much of a friend base left, and generally just wasn't behaving myself. And I had this overwhelming sense that I hadn't really done anything worthwhile yet. Or traveled as much as I would've liked. But mainly, I needed out of California. So I left.
Sonja was a disaster. I think we're all up to speed on that one. If not, read back through this blog. But. Had I not gone to work for her, I wouldn't be four months away from finally getting a degree, nor would I have such a fantastic friend base, nor would I have a plan stretching further than next week. Goodness. So some things have changed. Big ones, but have I gotten any better? Have I gotten rid of the behavior patterns that put me in the rut in California in the first place, or am I destined to find myself in a similar rut in London?
(I feel the need to point out here that most of my late-night insomniac thinking is extremely self-centered. I tend to be able to work out other people a lot quicker than I can work out my own stuff, and it's a good way to occupy one's time when you can't sleep)
So I thought about it for a while (and here's where I'm going to fail to express my thoughts in as clear a manner as they manifested themselves last night), and came to the conclusion that while a lot of the behavior is still there, there are some facets of my life here that will make creating a rut difficult. I have too many external consciences, and although I may whine about them nagging me (only occasionally), it's good to know that I've got people around that call me on my bullshit. Whether I want them to or not. Knowing full well that I may disregard what they've said and do things my way regardless. Love you guys for it. You should know who you are.
Maybe this is where the optimism comes from. It's costing me too much to stay here to really risk screwing it up. So that, coupled with knowing there are people who will remind me of that should I somehow forget about it, reinforces my opinion that this is all going to turn out well. Despite the horrific wrecks of my first and second years. Bueno.
....there was more last night, but I can't remember it.
New business: Conway and I are almost done with our first week of Phase I on the South Beach Diet. I have never felt so decadent in my life. And certainly never about meals that are really, truly, 100% good-for-me. Although I did lapse the other night and eat an entire jar of peanut butter, but that couldn't be helped. We also started a new gym regime, but my luck being what it is, I screwed my legs up the first day. They're better now, and I should be able to start going back next week. Although I won't be going back to their 7:45am spin class. I'm not doing this to my quads ever ever ever again. Especially in a land where I can't barge into the emergency room and demand muscle relaxers. I can go to A&E, but I've been told the A&E staff won't take kindly to me deciding my course of treatment. Bummer.
Anyway, Conway is putting on a night tonight at the union, so I've got to go make myself purdy and steezy and SFG. Ha.
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