I have been busy, busy with reading! When I am home, I read. When I am planning on seeing friends, we meet up to read (and eat and drink caffeine). The only time I make it a point to not read is on the bus. I just sit. I don't think I am expected to read everything, only as much as I can. This weekend will be my first where I am not entertaining family, being hurt, or still moving in. I hope to see my housemate outside of the context of me studying in bed/at the kitchen table while we are both home. I hope to sew my kitchen curtains. I hope to catch up in my classes. I hope to get a job (not really hoping, but necessary - around L-ville would be great). I will leave it at that for now.
This graduate program is very encouraging. There is a lot to do and I still can't swallow the idea that I am actually working towards something now, rather than simply going through the motions. On Friday, I was assigned to bring in a job with its qualifications and I brought an application for the position of Human Rights Officer for the UN in Guatemala City. It's a feasible job. I just have to get a few years of interning/volunteering/working under my belt with an NGO or an advocacy program. I don't have an ideal job and I think people who have ideal jobs are strange!
It's nice to be friends with my former professors now. I have become really okay with talking to professionals informally. I used to be confused to how I should interact with professors and graduate teachers. I went to talk to my old Mayan Archaeology professor the other day and I told him how I didn't do aaaaaanything this summer - except go to music festivals and concerts. He supported my time spent not interning like most typical pre-grad. students would. He thinks it best for those pursuing international affairs to have a good sense of humor and not be so uptight. (It's ironic because I once hated the guy so much that I went onto ratemyprofessor.com and bitched him out. Then I went to talk to him in person and we ended up laughing and talking about DEATH.)
We have little kid japanese writing in pencil all over this apartment.
I wonder.
2 comments:
i miss you. i want to get together and read. im still pretty lonely. i just study study and study some more. read, read, and read some more. and, .. so on.
i miss pittsburgh. a lot. but im very busy.
id like to give you a hug. im sorry for your limeny snickets series of unforunate events with your injury upon just moving in. ive just experienced a pang of remorse again for singing so cruely about it that one night.
id also like to just, give you one of those meaningful high fives about what your doing with school. i think its admirable to be ambitious and work for things. hopefully ill see you out and about in the, you know, world, while were persuing our international affairs. in another life, or if i could have 3 of me, i think i would go to school for anthropology too. i think teaching could easily be a banal job if you sucked. whats ideal? teaching in a middle class suburb, with kids whos mothers compete in the arena of top of the line kitchen ware? .. not for me.
being friends with professors is cool. i like to do that too if they understand that that sort of relationship is possible and are interested in it. i went to the bar with this old theatre professor i met on campus this summer to talk books a few times. i saw him on campus the other day and he kissed my cheek like we were old friends. it was kind of weird. i admit i felt uncomfortable as i rode away on my bike, even though it was a harmless gesture. and hes old.
im envious of your concert travels this summer. my summer was mostly comprised of feeling displaced. humf.
i wrecked that rape freak professor i had this summer i told you about on ratemyprofessor.com. then he called me after the class was over, gave me the only A in the class, and told me my writing was extrodinary. i liked him a little more after that.
theres a church in view outside of my kitchen window. i lifted the screen a few weeks ago to beat some rugs off the side of house house. theres a creepy rough sketch of the church by the hand of a child on teh windowsill and it just says "dont jump." im honestly freaked out.
lame excuse for a conversation? i guess. i like to keep in touch with you where i can.
my word verification is: wello, ha!
this is an amazing response!
i was going to ask you about how that class ended up with that creepy professor. ha you are exceptional at writing! don't worry about the hand jokes, i loved the honey bear paw. i used that line a few times actually...i think getting hurt is funny. it's so weird to get really hurt now that we're not kids. it doesn't make sense that we can still scar from accidents, like it's something that we grow out of. i wouldn't have been so boo-hooey about it i bet if i were 8.
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