I haven't updated in a long time.

I'm not really sure what to write here, I haven't updated this in a while and my last message was rather cryptic.

I suppose it's a simple explanation though. I've been single for a month and a half- I broke off my engagement and Chris moved back home. Whatever emotions came with that were dealt with privately and I don't feel the need to rehash them or revisit them here. It's not what drew me back to this blog. It's not bothering me at the moment either, I am entirely at peace with that decision.

What has been on my mind lately has been my mother, which is no small surprise with Dec 23 drawing closer.

I know that each year I get very upset because it snows and I can't visit her grave on the anniversary of her death because they lie flat and any amount of snow covers them. I never liked the flat graves. It tears me to pieces each year. I wish we could go without a white Christmas just once so I could find her grave. I've heard MA hasn't has snow yet which leads me to foolishly hope maybe this year... but I do believe it's snowing there this weekend. I don't know why it's so important that I visit on the anniversary of her death. Maybe it's because when I miss her the most. It just means more somehow.

I suppose this is awful to say but her death probably came at the worst possible time of year. It's really cruel that my memories of Christmas are my best memories of my mother and she died under two days before Christmas. I tried to put up Christmas decorations in my new place and it was just awful. Christmas will never be the same it seems. I find myself wishing I had her purple scarf to wear around at least. I always get sentimental this time of year. Not her birthday but around the holidays.

My feelings are still a jumble about it. It's never just simple loss and sadness. No, more so than anything I feel immense frustration. Her death seemed to utterly preventable. All the measures we took, the hospitalization, the stays in rehab, the stints of sobriety- if only just once it had worked, or we had gotten one more chance to try it. It wasn't like we didn't see this coming, we saw it years before it happened, which is why there is such a sense of 'what if' when I think about her death. It feels like I will never completely be at peace because it didn't catch me off guard. If only I could tell myself there was nothing anyone could have done. But we had done things, we had been doing things for years...

I've begun telling people it is my life goal not to die an easily preventable death. I tell them I mean by things like texting while driving, or jay walking, or making stupid dangerous choices. But really, around this time of year I wonder if maybe it's just so no one will be missing me after I'm gone and feeling frustrated and angry like this, thinking it could have been prevented, if only...

The frustration is the worst because I try to talk myself out of it, reason with myself but still. The holidays seem forever tainted. I haven't gone Christmas shopping and since I have no money, I most likely wont be able to. I seem to be taking the holidays very passively so far.

I don't know why I felt like writing all this out and posting it would help. It's just made me tired and less inclined to study for my final.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to reclaim Christmas, or it will always remain her holiday in my mind...

Coming home to an empty house is never easy

To the Boy whose Heart I Broke

I expected the emptiness
When I came home tonight.
But the pictures, every one,
You had of us together,
Returned, caught me
By surprise.

The gifts too,
Those you had given me
And I to you, the bears,
The picture on the wall,
A gift from our first Christmas,
I was not prepared to find.

It was as if you took no trace of me,
No reminder that I had ever been a part
Of your life. As if maybe,
Eventually, my memory would fade.
And you could live as if
I had never existed at all.

Or maybe you were afraid
That if you did not leave them,
I would be the one to forget.
I can only guess now.
But I will keep them,
Just in case you do forget
To make the pain lessen.

I'll bear the burden of my choice
So someone will know
The story of us, of the rings
And the bears and the pictures.

Ironic that you left so much
That cuts so deeply,
Except for the one thing
I searched the whole house over for:

A goodbye.

Thanksgiving

So, I haven't updated this in quite a while. No worries, I'll get back into it.

So today was Thanksgiving, one of the rather rare occasions that my father's side of the family gets together. We all go out to a fancy shamncy buffet because my father and uncle don't cook. Though if they tried it would probably be hilarious and wonderful and great to video tape.

Unfortunately, I don't think they'd go for it. So, moving on. The excitement this year was over my cousin's new baby. He and his girlfriend came (they had three dinners to be at on thanksgiving!)with their 9 week old son Owen. And Owen was just one of those perfect babies. Not fussy, let himself be handed around, held, patted obsessively by my grandmother, the whole deal. He took is all with good grace.

I got to hold him twice. He was cute but at 9 weeks it was rather anticlimactic. Which can probably only be a good thing with infants- kind of a no news is good news thing, right? He sat happily on my lap, curled his fingers around mine, looked around. It was nice.

However, that side of the family isn't very easy to keep in touch with, especially since my cousin has moved out now. So I was tempted to reactivate my facebook to try and get closer with him and his girlfriend and keep up with the baby. I'd like to have pictures of the baby and comment on photos, maybe send some baby stuff to them.

So I was debating reactivating facebook solely for this. Still, I'm hesitant. I really enjoyed not being on facebook, but my cousin is barely on there even, I'd like to friend his girlfriend because she'd post more about the baby.

So facebook might be making a surprise comeback. Because Owen won me over. he didn't even try very hard, but I guess I'm a sucker.

Now I have practice holding an infant though, and I'll be ready if the opportunity comes up with a new baby expected Dec. 10 on the other side of the family! I would be thrilled to just sit with a sleeping baby in my arms. Hopefully I meet that new baby Christmas!

So, off to ponder reactivating facebook.

The Conference

Today I attended my very first day of my first conference. It's in Harrisburg and I'm staying at a hotel a ten minute walk from the conference which is in a Hilton hotel. I had a nice portfolio with a legal pad inside for taking notes, business cards and resumes in their pockets and a nice pen. Sure, okay, I didn't actually hand anything out, but I wasn't expecting to- they were just in case the occasion arose, which no one was expecting it to. But I was prepared. That was the point.

I attended a breakfast and then three sessions (each an hour and a half long) and a reception at the state capitol which included dinner, free drinks (lots of variety from what I saw, but I don't drink so I can't comment further) and private tours led just for us, well since we were the only one's there as it was after hours. Being in the newly renovated building after hours was SPECTACULAR. It's got other capitols beat hands down. We were given a tour guide by someone on the conservation team for the building and he had extensive knowledge of the process and history of the building. It was a fabulous tour- and they did several small ones so it was nice not to have to be crowded by people.

Here's a picture of the main area where the reception was I found online for a peek at what's got me so excited:





It was like being in a palace. All the art was renaissance style and spectacular. The food was good, desserts were lovely. I even ate some fruit.

Here's a room on the tour:



Anyway it's almost eleven now and I meant to do a longer entry but I've got day two to get through tomorrow and I must go to bed. And you wont believe it but there was even a hospitality suite back at the Hilton with more free drinks (it's funny, I'm fixated on this free drink thing though I don't drink- I'm simply shocked by it!) and socializing AFTER the reception until midnight, which I of course skipped.

Overall so far it's been interesting. I'm glad I came. I got to dress up in a suit and play professional. Sort of. More later. Hopefully!

Doing Well

So as I hope most blog followers can tell I'm doing better than I was ten weeks ago when I began the semester. I now have six weeks left, which both feels like nearly nothing and absolutely forever, depending on how I envision it.

I have ultimately decided to delete my facebook by this Sunday. I have offered my email and tried to encourage people to start an email correspondence with me and it has gotten a few friends interested. One friend and I are even going to write letter to each other and mail them.

Instead of opening facebook, I now eagerly check my email. I find it much more rewarding and it brings me a lot of happiness. reconnecting with friends is rejuvenating and I truly encourage everyone to email away. It makes my days brighter.

In other news, I have got ONE recipe down. Veggie Quesadillas. which may not seem like much but they are awesomely tasty. I am excited about this. I have faith in my ability to survive as a young adult in the world.

In other news, in under two weeks I will be off to my very first professional Conference in Harrisburg PA. We're even having a resume review between my student group for those attending to brush them up for when we go. I don't have much pertinent stuff on there, but at least I'll be prepared.

So that's exciting. I'm also trying to set up another internship, to no avail unfortunately. My email and voicemail message have gone unreturned and so I emailed my advisor, and that email is awaiting reply too. So it's my current mission.

So. Six weeks. the countdown is on. Well, it's a bit early, perhaps I should start it at four weeks. I'm rather eager for a break. Although I am not as emotionally distraught as I was, I still am looking forward to it being 9 months from now. This program will never be anything less than absolutely draining.

After this blessed break to update you all I will return to working on my literature review. I'm reading my 19th source out of twenty two I have collected- though they suggest more. I wouldn't mind finding more but it's only a ten- twelve page paper and I simply can do them all justice so it becomes a frustrating task. Alas, not the worst problem to have.

That's all for now :)

Thoughts on Facebook

Today's topic is facebook.

Recently I have begun wondering if the "facebook culture" is something I want to be involved in. And by facebook culture I mainly am talking about two known trends on facebook.

1)I have always cringed at the thought of deleting or deactivating my facebook but for a large number of people it is my only means of contacting them. Despite not being close to many, I had an irrational fear of missing out on their lives and doings if I did not have the ability to "stalk" them on facebook. Lately however, I have been questioning how much this really contributes to "keeping in touch" or even "keeping up to date" with people.

There is no meaningful connection to be had through a status update, and little can be said in a photo comment. these are all enjoyable things, but they are taking place of actual conversations. People aren't thinking about directly contacting that person in addition to the photo comment to ask about their life or even say hi. Facebook seems to contribute to satisfaction with a very superficial kind of communication.

I've recently started email correspondence with a few people and it has been wholly more rewarding, interesting, and thought provoking than any exchange I have had via facebook. I'm simply not sure facebook is something I want to invest my time in these days as it provides tidbits of knowledge but no meaningful connection with the people I was so desperate to stay in touch with.

2) The blurring of public and private: correspondence that would normally take place privately between two people is now open not only for everyone to see, but to become involved in. It's drastically changing our notions about what should and should not be private. Now facebook has had to come up with very complex privacy settings for people to exclude certain friends from seeing certain pictures or updates and it's all become quite messy. It makes me wonder if facebook is really an ideal system for communication at all.

This issue is explored in the New York times magazine Article which I highly recommend:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/10/17/magazine/17FOB-WWLN-t.html?_r=1&ref=magazine

Basically it states, in terms of privacy, we are our own worst enemy. I believe certain discussions are meant to take place discreetly and privately and facebook has the potential to elevate drama and hurt feelings that are all unnecessary because people using it seem to forget rules of tact, consideration and thinking before they post.



So those are my facebook thoughts. While I wont be deleting it, I'm going to stop checking it and updating it so frequently. I think I'll be happier if I'm forced to make the effort for a more direct communication with people. On that note, I notice I have this blog being sent out to quite a deal of people who, perhaps because of facebook culture, passively "lurk" to keep up with my life (or delete it without opening the email :P) and I would prefer perhaps a reply, for the sake of connection.

However, my Holycross.edu email is gone, nonexistent, and I mentioned I have no been able to disconnect the comment/reply feature to that account.

Please email me at loopy6588@aol.com. I'd love to hear from everyone who may be reading.

Oh and this book was recommended to me, it sounds fabulous and if anyone was wondering what to get me for x-mas, I have a growing list of books that i cannot wait to read ;)

Hamlet's BlackBerry: A Practical Philosophy for Building a Good Life in the Digital Age [Hardcover] by William Powers

Some reviews:
“Benjamin Franklin would love this book. He knew the power of being connected, but also how this must be balanced by moments of reflection. William Powers offers a practical guide to Socrates’ path to the good life in which our outward and inward selves are at one.” (Walter Isaacson, author of Einstein: His Life and Universe and Benjamin Franklin: An American Life )

“A brilliant and thoughtful handbook for the Internet age—why we have this screen addiction, its many perils, and some surprising remedies that can make your life better.” (Bob Woodward )

“In this delightfully accessible book, Powers asks the questions we all need to ask in this digitally driven time. And teaches us to answer them for ourselves.” (Maryanne Wolf, author of Proust and the Squid )

“[An] elegant meditation on our obsessive connectivity and its effect on our brains and our very way of life.” (Laurie Winer, New York Times Book Review )

“Always connected. Anytime. Anyplace. We know it’s a blessing, but we’re starting to notice that it’s also a curse. In Hamlet’s Blackberry, William Powers helps us understand what being ‘connected’ disconnects us from, and offers wise advice about what we can do about it…. A thoughtful, elegant, and moving book.” (Barry Schwartz, author of The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less )

Looking forward to hearing from people, hopefully, if you're all still with me.

Strange thoughts.

Today while writing to a friend, a fellow writer (I do in some sense identify as a writer since I simply do adore expressing myself in the written form) I decided I would make an absolutely implausible book character. People would say "this character simply doesn't make sense, she's not realistic, no one would be able to connect with her as she's simply all over the place" and went on to have some self reflection on how I see myself.

I find I am an archivist born in the wrong generation for I'd rather we not have the option of transferring materials to computers at all, it's a hideous version of what is in it's original form quite amazing. I find manuscripts fascinating and inspiring, their very existence over generations makes me sigh in admiration for the power of paper and ink to overcome time. Therefore, in my academic beliefs I am about 50-60 years behind my fellow grad students and truly embody a 90 year old archivist in spirit. Paper is where it's at. Digitization is a necessary evil with many pros which I cannot deny BUT it simply cannot garner the love I have for the physicality of paper artifacts. I'm not a technophobe but I long for the olden days when it was all paper all the time, 100% glorious gorgeous paper.

However, I am also quite glam. I did my first shoot in Pittsburgh yesterday and had a ball dancing around to pop music feelin glamorous before I left. Truly, I aspire to be stunning. I am a bit of a rockstar- a la Adam Lambert style. Despite some controversial moves on his part I love his edgy look. I think that this:



Is super cool.


Meanwhile in my day to day life I mostly lament my financial ability to procure good coffee, have epic battles with Chris' cat when he is not around to see my true colors, try to resist the internet (ever since I heard of this book "The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains" by Nicholas Carr- see my previous post), check for grades and emails to an almost ridiculous extent, go to bed by ten and spend what will end up a large chunk of my overall existence waiting for the bus.

All in all, I'm horribly implausible. I am just not believable and no one would possibly be able to relate to me or connect with my character. I am currently lamenting this as it makes me feel horribly alone in the world. If people can't connect to my hypothetical book self, how will I ever be understood?! (Only slightly tongue in cheek there. Reassurance still welcome).

At first I thought, wow I am so unique. But then I realized I am just strange. Strange in that if I could I would wear 4 inch heels, glam makeup and crazy styles while working among cold dark stacks of materials in the best of the best preservation environments, have money for chai lattes and coffee at the best of shops, and free myself of the pull of the internet entirely so that I could a glam scholar extraordinaire.

I think someone messed up and put two people in one body. And because of that no one will ever base a book character after me. This is tragic.

Woe.

Some book recommendations...

Today I attended a lecture of a very very influential scholar who happens to teach at my school. I know he's influential because his articles are everywhere and his books as well. In my research across several classes his name comes up.

But that's not the point. It's just context.

First he started out with the fact that graduate students complain they are assigned too much reading. He says he believes we aren't assigned enough. For an hour lecture he provided a three page list of citations for works he planned on referencing in his talk.

He said once he gave a doctorate student an 180 page reading list. And he was serious about how much someone in the profession must read. He said it takes almost a decade to really master a discipline.

He also said there are ten times as many graduates in this field as jobs. We have to do something to distinguish ourselves from the other 9 graduates to earn the job.

And then he said "The purpose of graduate education is to push you. To push you hard. And kick you a few times while you’re on the ground for good measure. Doctorate students by their third or fourth year are so bruised and bloody they’re following law students."

He said his own collection just one topic (I can't remember what it was) spanned two bookcases, floor to ceiling.

This all should have scared the bejesus out of me. Instead I was left feeling like I too wanted to read an entire profession's literature. In an amazing way I wanted to be so well read. I wanted to have knowledge that spanned hundreds of books. I've read maybe...15-20 books and maybe that many articles in a month and a half.

It seems measly now! How pitiful my tiny accumulation of knowledge seems in the vast oceans of whats out there. Sure I have the rest of my life to read but I wanted to be just like him the second I walked out the door. The man was phenomenal.

Here are some fabulous titles he touched upon:

Nicholas Carr, The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Being (New York: W.
W. Norton & Co., 2010)

Is the internet affecting our ability to think? Does it have an impact on cognitive issues? This book takes a fascinating look at how the internet is affecting our neurological connections and wiring. Is the use of the internet in some sense "making us dumber"?

Personally, with how we dart from page to page, skim and click without truly absorbing the information or thinking critically, I can see how time spent on the internet erodes at our capacity for disciplined reading. People have no attention span to sit down and read a text for hours, engage with it, question it, reflect on it. nor do many even care to. The internet does not force us or invite us to think. Instead it cultivates a culture that is constantly multi-tasking, which only inhibits deep thought. I for one would be fascinated by his take on it from a biological perspective because I do believe our generation is lacking the discipline and skills it takes to be well read. I also find myself abhorrent of this possibility.


A for fun book: The Island of Lost Maps: A True Story of Cartographic Crime

About why people steal antiques/rare materials. It's been recommended in two classes. IT seems to be more a fun read than anything.



Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

He said if there's one book to read on writing, this is IT. She addresses the necessity of conviction and belief in writing, how one must be called to write about something. While it seems simple, I think this book seems inspiring nonetheless.

Richard Rhodes, How To Write: Advice and Reflections (New York: Harper Books,
1995).

This book is another one on writing, it focuses on the importance of being a good reader in order to be a good writer. And by that being well read. One must know the good from the bad writing before one can write well and the way to know that is to read. I for one could not agree more. Though these unpolished, type and grammatical error-ridden blogs most likely do not reflect my reading at all unfortunately!

Anyway, the first book in particular has me pondering cutting my internet usage if only to read more. This Thursday I began a book and finished it that night, Friday I began another book and finished it today. Tonight I'll start a third book and hopefully finish it tomorrow morning. So 3 books, four days.

I have a literature review for which I need to read two more books and 18 articles so I really need to be consuming literature at a faster rate with more critical thought involved.

I want to develop the kind of discipline scholars seemed to have before the internet. I find myself annoyed by my generation's complete lack of ability to sit down for long periods of time with a text. I do believe it's crucial to be well educated and I believe to truly be well educated it takes an enormous amount of self discipline.

Though grad school may well be the most miserable year of my life, I do think it may well be shaping me. I'm finding I really appreciate a lot of old fashioned values of lots of reading, lots of writing, serious discipline, hard work and life long learning. My values are clearly taking on an academic shape and I find I want even more to surround myself with like minded people.

On that note, I'm planning on attending my first professional conference in November in Harrisburg PA with a student group I am an officer of (have I mentioned that? Well you shouldn't have doubted I'd sign myself up). I'll have to buff up my resume and print some off, maybe make some business cards. And dry clean my suits.

I'm also desperately trying to get another internship for one day a week on the weekends. There is a lot of red tape here, but I'm rather desperate for some hardcore archival hands on experience. I'm meeting with my adviser about this on Monday.


And as a side note: if you'd like to respond, for some reason despite my attempts to change it all comments go to my old school email and updating the address hasn't helped. Please email me directly for comments.

Just life.

So, a normal update (finally) methinks.

Not in a philosophizing mood (thank goodness because if there's optimistic philosophizing, I haven't figured it out), nor a particularly hopeless or angry mood (suppose everyone has their limits for negative emotions).

Currently I am bewildered at a professor who canceled the class before midterm, promising a video review for the midterm "later in the weekend" and yet so far has provided nothing. So I'm studying blind. This test could be anywhere from 1-3 hours, in any format covering any selection of information from class or the text. Oh and she hasn't posted the power-point from the last class and my notes are patchy because she FLIES through them. FLIES. Magically they whiz by. They all but blur as she clicks through them.

I should be petrified. Or studying like a mad woman. I am neither. I am simply amused. And far too unconcerned for my own good. The whole class is a bit (and by a bit I mean a lot) unorganized, with an often missing TA and a professor who, truly no offense meant, deserves to retire and enjoy her own academic interests. She is undeniably the frailest, tiniest, skinniest woman I have encountered in my 22 years of life. her voice is soft and she seems to put every bit of energy into making it through one 3 hour course. Of course she is a bit older than most professors, I wouldn't be so disrespectful so say ancient, but I do believe she has been alive enough years to be approaching or past retirement age.

This is no judgment but I can't help but wonder if it mayhaps is one factor in the course being so very disorganized. Ah well.

In other news, every now and again I look around and think, gosh I do have a nice living space. Most students are renting tiny apartments or rooms. Even before I was planning on Chris, roommates were out of the question for me. I suppose I am rather spoiled. I do like the space and independent living. This may be a problem as I would like more space and nicer things. I fear I may have expensive tastes.

Last night I was looking at real estate sites for this area. I always get dreamy at the insanely low prices of houses around here. my father also commented at how easily one could become a home owner here, and from the pictures, the houses (inside and outside) are lovely. Ah how i dream of being a home owner.

I would love to stay here if possible. I don't think that will be possible though. The thought of just applying to jobs anywhere and everywhere as I please is also exciting though. I mean, if I could just apply to the very best selection of job without worrying about where they are I could probably get a better job than if I am picky about location. So maybe it's a win-win. If I stay around here, it's good living, if I go elsewhere, it's an adventure.

I think I've lost track of the weeks, but I believe we are embarking on...week seven? I had hoped it was week eight. Alas.

In other news, I joined a rather stagnant meet-up group for photography/modeling. Seeing nothing going on, I posted an idea for a casual, low key fun shoot.

And people flew out of the woodwork. Suddenly I had ten photographers RSVP to the event, and people scouting locations and saying things like wow, there's hasn't been this much activity here in forever.

I can only conclude I am magical. However, ten photographs and one model is the makings of a mess. So then I had to start recruiting more models. Unfortunately they have not crawled out of the woodwork. Thus far I have... one. And the organizer of this entire group has let me to sort this out myself. Meaning I am in charge.

I really do love biting off more than I can chew, getting myself in over my head and plunging into to things I have no idea about. That's not sarcasm. I do need a bit of excitement in my life, even if it's in the form of wondering if I can make this not a complete chaotic mess. I mean it could be a miserable failure. All that stands between this event and MISERABLE FAILURE is me. ME.

I'm like superwoman.

This will hopefully happen next Sunday. And if it goes off without a hitch, my magical-ness will be confirmed.

Have I ever mentioned how much I really love blogging? I think if I kept it to this tone of playful nonsense, such as musing on my own magical nature, I could be a blogger with a following. Mmm egotistical-ness. Yum. (ego reminds me of eggo- those toaster waffles!)

So, still awaiting like three grades, muddling through my assignments (either in a psychotic perfectionist frenzy or extremely laid back danger zone) and getting myself into organizing events with no experience in an unfamiliar city. Oh and I have declared Chris' cat my arch-nemesis. Really, we have quite the relationship, the cat and I. He's troublesome and strange, possibly possessed or having an identity crisis. Quite the nuisance, this cat is, especially when he acts cute and innocent for days, trying to confuse me. I don't appreciate his trickery. I do not trust the cat.


And that is all.

Angry Amy.

First off, I apologize for not replying to those who have so kindly sent me encouraging words and regular responses. I appreciate that.


Secondly, let it be known that if I fail gradschool it will be because of the sheer about of group work that is such a stupidly high percentage of my grades. Let it be known that I send emails and communicate openly and allow time for agreeing on the final version and making changes then my group mate adds a few sentences to the assignment and SUBMITS IT WITHOUT RUNNING IT BY ME. Suddenly I get an email with her portion added in and a note that she went ahead and submitted the assignment.

A WHOLE SECTION OF THE ASSIGNMENT was LEFT OUT. Her portions were measly and weak and pathetically short.

And the administration doesn't want to hear our group work woes. Have I mentioned the "don't be needy" lecture? HAVE I?

Well, if they give me a bad grade I will just have to "be needy' and make it known that sometimes even as adults there are mis-communications. And sometimes there isn't even a chance to point out where more work should be done b/c the other person just goes and submits it without my approval or feedback! I didn't even say I was done with my part I just said, here's what I have done so far, would you please add in the remaining sections of the report? Assuming she would do so and email it back to me. And we'd agree on how to finalize it and THEN submit.

I AM SO ANGRY.

By the way, of COURSE I finished the assignment up, resubmitted it with a polite comment in the comment box of the submission tool stating the first version was incomplete and to please take note of that. Luckily it isn't due til tomorrow so hopefully they will gladly accept the more complete version as it was submitted early.

Still, we could have put a whole other day's work into it!

WTF. GRADSCHOOL CUT THE GROUPWORK SHIT OUT.

I am a communicator, organizer extraordinaire and with other competent people we make great projects, but if I get people who don't even allow for my opinions/thoughts no amount of communication and suggestion will help. duh.

P.S: this is in a huge hundreds of students lecture hall style class. this whole assignment had to be done via email communication. I couldn't pick this girl out of a crowd. For all I know she's an off campus student.

Just so you all know, my head exploded. I did five pages single spaced. She added maybe two mini paragraphs worth of writing. LEAVING HUGE SECTIONS WITH ONLY TWO/THREE SENTENCES. NOT OKAY. The report looks horrible with some sections having whole pages and others a line or two. OMG. OMG.

OMG.

This is horrible. Someone send cookies and hugs and rainbows.

RAWR.

Long rambling post about writings and general worries

Today, while browsing something I came across this line:

The stars, I've been told, have never cared for anyone but themselves.

It was a rather sad section of a story, this line was preceded by the narrator looking at the sky and knowing that if the stars were to disappear he would be left with only an expanse of inky blackness. The personification of stars would normally be seen as a bit “mushy” or overly sentimental but I find the tone and content of the line provides a wonderful juxtaposition with the very act of personification. Instead of taking comfort in the presence of the stars and romanticizing their light, the story ends with the narrator unable to take solace in some romanticized notion of starlight shining down on him, providing escape from complete darkness. No, while the preceding line about the starless sky hints at some sort of uplifting realization of the stars presence, the author chooses to part from what one would expect making this line much more powerful. The stars’ personification is not used as a means for the narrator to comfort himself in a moment of pain, but instead gives insight to his jaded character that only sees the stars as unconcerned with his woes. That the character only sees the stars as a detached and unconcerned presence shows an inability to wrap himself in the foolish notion that their light is meant to provide comfort against the dark of night. However, all of this comes from a mere hint in the line above which, through the juxtaposition of an overused, somewhat sentimental writing tool (personification) and a jaded, logical tone shows a man who is either unable or unwilling to find comfort in the world around him. It makes it a much more sad story when the last line is examined for what it may say about the character. So much so that I sat down to examine what I personally thought the line was meant to imply. It also made me want to write. So I began to look up some more inspiring quotes. The below I happened to stumble upon from D.H Lawrence:

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.

“I want to live my life so that my nights are not full of regrets”

“It is no good casting out devils. They belong to us, we must accept them and be at peace with them.”

“But better die than live mechanically a life that is a repetition of repetitions.”

This small excursion away from my workload made me realize how much I miss writing. Not blogging, as that is hardly an art, but truly expressing myself in an eloquent manner, pondering things. I almost wanted to do a character sketch. So I think I shall. This snippet is based on a girl who walked in front of me for a few blocks today:

She wished she had brought a bag, rather desperately, at that moment waiting to cross the street. At least then no one would see the umbrella clutched in her hand which she held close to her side, as if that would hide the offending object. She was also cursing the brightness of her purple rain boots and the thickness of her obviously-made-for-winter winter coat. Normally they would be a source of smugness, as she defied the elements. She was one of those perpetually prepared people and so of course when the weather promised rain and a high in the low 50’s she donned the appropriate attire. Yet, now she squirmed at the corner of Forbes and Murray, feeling like a fool as the sun shone overhead. The weather for her city had promised rain and yet here the sun shone with white fluffy clouds not two blocks from her house. No one else seemed to have taken any glance at the morning weather report, walking about in light cotton shirts and jeans, not a single hand holding a folded up umbrella. Not even just in case. She cursed them for somehow being more in-tune with mother earth than her (rather useless) weatherman. When the small white walk signal finally appeared she took off for the other side of the street eager to escape what seemed to be the feel of a million stares. Or at least a dozen or so. Trying not to speed walk past the Dunkin Donuts lest she look even more ridiculous, she glanced at her fellow pedestrians. Not a single rain jacket, she mentally cursed Weather.com for causing her to stick out like a sore thumb. She felt it was almost as bad at wearing a sweater to the beach. Passing the commercial portion of the street into the residential area, she sighed with relief at the sudden lack of people also walking down the street. When her house came into view she marveled at how strange it was that a bit of sunshine could make it seem such a welcome relief.

Yes. I noticed this girl today. I could tell she had looked at the weather because so had I. Only I also looked out my window and realized it was horribly wrong. This poor girl had gotten ready and gone outside in good faith however, and was trapped bundled up for trudging through rain…on what actually was a warm sunny day.

However, the quotes also made me rather anxious about my lack of a hobby and waste of time it seems. I always worry that I will get hit by a bus and will have spent the last 6 weeks being rather unhappy, bogged down by schoolwork. I worry that I will be in some tragic accident and realize I have not made the time to do things I love, and see the world around me, and take time off to have some fun. The quote “But better die than live mechanically a life that is a repetition of repetitions,” worries me as my life has become monotonous and unexciting. I do not call or see friends. I do not go out. I do not DO much aside from schoolwork.

Isn’t life meant to be more than that? Were we really given a limited about of time on this earth to squander it making ends meet, studying things we don’t want to, and generally not enjoying it?

Sometimes I wonder how justifiable it is to defend this year when I’m really not feeling like I’m living life to the fullest. Should I get hit by a car/bus/train/falling plane, let it be known that I worried about this. And as unlikely as that is, sometimes I wish it didn’t take some terminal disease diagnosis for people to accept putting responsibility aside when you feel you are not doing what you love or enough of what you love or living as it was meant to be. When a person is dying, it seems only then does it become terribly important to get their bucket list done. Until then, it is often put aside in favor of more important things, or worked in only if/when other things have been done.

Go to school, get a job, save money, buy a house, support kids, when that’s done and you retire, then you travel, then you live the life you’ve always wanted to. It's as if one must pay their dues, work hard in order to have their fun. Like you must earn it. I think there is something horribly wrong with this model because it assumes everything will go according to plan and when we are 65/kids are in college/we cash in on savings that presumably still exist, that we can really start to live.

What if we don’t get there? What if the kids move back home, our savings is used for a disaster, we die before we reach 30?

What good has been putting responsibilities first then? And sure, you may say but you can have fun while still tending to your responsibilities, life does not have to be nonstop work. But oh my friend so much easier said than done! Even the best laid plans go awry. And that balance is hard to find. One step over the line and some responsibility has been neglected and you must pay for your fun. There is a thin line and it’s not so easy to find room on the to do list for fun. It sounds so simple, putting aside a little time for some fun, but what if there is simply too much work? Once the schoolwork is done, the chores must be done, groceries must be bought, vacuuming and dishes and laundry, and I am only trying to get what I mean when I say sometimes it’s rather easy to become bogged down by responsibility and put aside fun for later. Even when you plan fun in, it often has to pushed til later. And later. And later.

And then you get hit by a bus and there is no later.

How easily we forget the ephemeral nature of life. Or even worse, we do not forget, and ignore it because we have things that have to get done, ephemeral nature or not! Simply put, in the face of realizing you may die tomorrow, the assignments/rent/bills are still due, food is still not free, and embracing life will just have to wait for when you have more time and money.

This worries me.

Tomorrow begins Week Five

Every time I actually realize it's only been a month I find myself shocked. It feels like I have been in grad school for so long, forever even.

The middle of the week was my low point. Unhappy did not cover it. I was irritable, cranky, depressed and spent the morning crying into my coffee and wanting to go back to bed. I wouldn't eat. I stuffed a granola bar into my bag and left the house for a full shift without breakfast and only that to eat. I thought bleak thoughts and felt bleak. I felt ungrateful for everything and longed to escape without having to quit or fail anything.

Luckily, I work with a wonderful woman. It is just impossible to be mopey around her. Though the work can be tedious and I had a bit of trouble focusing that day, I went home in a better mood and was just fine at work. I also went home knowing I couldn't live like this anymore. And the only one in my way was me (However, I am a huge, stubborn, near impossible to move obstacle).

I went home and signed up with a meet-up group for photographers and models in Pittsburgh. My application to the meet-up group is pending, but they don't seem to do large or very involved shoots and have regular ones about once a month. Just signing up made me feel that maybe having something to look forward to would be a ray of sunshine in my life.

While I haven't heard anything I'm hoping I can jump on an event now and again. I need a hobby more than anything, and my workload can go to... well you know where. I am (trying to be) through letting it dominate my life and well being. If I get mediocre grades but can manage not to drop out, I will have to forgive myself for that.

It's hard, because I know I could be phenomenal. In this first month I have read and read and always finished the books before all my peers. They have been in shock. I started my assignments early and did nothing but work so that I could be sure I was doing my very best.

I signed up as the business manager of the preservation student group, I eagerly spoke of attending conferences and worried about the job search.

I desperately want to be that over achiever, I want to be that girl who is PHENOMENAL. Accepting a lesser standard feels like it would crush my soul. I want success and the best of choices. I want to not have to worry about someone better getting the job. I want to be employed and successful and a shining star.

To *just* get the degree, it seems to be slacking. Even though to earn the degree you can't get below a 3.0. But if I just earn the degree, then i will be among hundreds and thousands who have done the same. How will I emerge above them in the competition? How can I possibly stand out from the crowd? I thought having a masters would do it, but every time I get to the next level, I find myself surrounded by equally qualified people who will serve as competition. It worries me to no end.

It will be a year long battle against myself to lower my standards because nothing terrifies me more.

This weekend I worked Friday, finished a book and wrote a rough draft of a paper and fiddled with two more. I did some research, ordered some articles via Interlibrary loan and then...

I took Saturday off. I went to a Renaissance Fair. I took the ENTIRE DAY OFF. And I felt marvelous. Chris and I had a wonderful day. I felt myself again. One day of freedom and I felt like a million dollars.

Today though getting back into work mode was hard. I emailed a partner about a project, and a read for a few classes without really retaining anything. Instead of working more and harder, I baked some cookies and took a trip to the bank. I was just so happy not working that dragging myself back to it felt like putting on a ball and chain.

In undergrad work never felt so utterly draining before. Getting in and out of work mode happened easily.

Now I face my week knowing my papers would have been better had I used Saturday and today to focus on them. I know they are messy and mediocre and not my best work.

I am torn and as the week sets in my rejuvenation is fading. I know I can't be perfect on some level, but on another level in undergrad, I felt like I came so close. To accept less now seems like failing when I know what it's like to have that GPA, that resume, that REPUTATION.

Yes, it's a bit narcissistic I guess. But it's more that fear of competing for jobs and success. I hear last year's intern who got the degree is still looking for work. It's a hard market out there. All I want is a job. The fear of not finding one upon graduation paralyzes me. I keep thinking, if I work harder, if I am better than I MUST be able to get a job...but if I don't do everything in my power to bolster my GPA/Resume/references/networking/experience... someone will beat me out!

And how can I argue with that?

More of the same I suppose.

I was in the midst of writing a long blog as tomorrow begins week four. But it just sounded whiny. For many paragraphs it sounded whiny. So I deleted it all.

In short, I am unhappy.

Is it okay to not like this? Because I love the independence I have, I love where I live. Chris has been nothing but wonderful. But I do not like being in grad school.

Why does it make me feel so guilty/needy/pathetic/whiny to want to tell people I'm unhappy?

Will re-evaluate again in a few weeks.

Important evaluation.

Today I finished my first week of grad school. As of now, I am very miserable. Before I continue, I beg of you not to see this as a premature, stress induced case of nerves. I am going to give very valid and strikingly strong concerns. That I have such strong feelings should be a red flag, and I urge you to listen.

The first thing I have discerned is that I very much care about issues of preservation and all associated debates and troubles I have thus encountered that the archives field is currently grappling with. So it is certainly not a case of having jumped into the wrong field of study. That being said, I have found myself much more satisfied in my archives classes than my general librarian classes. Those, I do fear I do not only have no taste for, but feel resentful towards and feel my time is wasted.

You may ask how I already have such strong negative feelings about what the professors of my general classes have chosen to teach. Well, that brings me to my next point. They have decided to throw so much reading at me that I have been forced to get up at 5 AM to begin my day's work. I have read several books and many articles, and have submitted two short assignments via blackboard this very week and have my first lab due next week, and my first paper the week after.

Now, before you feel the urge to warn that yes, sometimes we cannot read everything as closely as we'd like and sometimes to manage workloads as such you must skim, let me assure you, I am well aware of how one manages such enormous task-loads. It is not ideal but it is the widespread reality, one I am well aware of.

But skimming feels like a waste of my time. With a scholarly, dense article, how can one come aware with any comprehension much less a meaningful engagement with a text from skimming? Especially when one must move on to the next without allowing any time for reflection?

What, exactly, is the reward in skimming a text? That you gain a very base understanding of the topic, but certainly nothing deep enough to write anything more than a two-three sentence summary on it, and when will, in graduate work, that be what is asked of you? And what if you have to grapple for more time than you feel you have just to get that. My workload has given no time for the possibility of struggling just to grasp the basics.

Now perhaps, an alternative is to identify some very key statements, such as the argument and supporting evidence which you can form opinions on, and expand on, without reading and understanding every word. Well, again, I ask, where is the time to reflect? Where is the time to turn over ideas and approach them from different angles? And thus, even with the best strategies for taking something possibly useful away from the texts, if you do not have any time to reflect without a pile of papers looming over you, inducing a need to move on in order to gain sleep, it becomes a useless activity.

What I am asserting is that, even armed with the best strategies, I honestly do not feel I have any time to engage with my text. Which, in a best case scenario would simply be unfortunate. However, in this scenario, I am being asked to do my most engaged work yet and participate in both class and online discussions, write advanced papers, projects, presentations that require the ability to:

A) Read the required material and incorporate it.
B) Supply additional sources as proof of research ability, incorporate up anywhere from 6-20 of my own sources found via research depending on the assignment.
C) Provide a creative and original response to the literature that shows not only comprehension but engagement and the ability to bring together the various sources into a unified, structured argument.

Now this is entirely doable. With the right amount of time. However, at the rate I have been reading, I have found I have almost no recollection of what I am reading. When I sat down to think about what I have learned in my first week, I was met with a mental equivalent of grasping for straws. I could see my underlining and notes in the margins. I had read enormous amounts. I could not look at an article and tell you much. If anything.

I had retained and learned insanely little. Now, I did give some thought as to it being me, and not the work load. However, in my many years of being a student, reading retention has never been a problem. In fact, I am an active reader which helps me engage with texts as I read and thus remember them better. My skills and an English major should be more than sufficient to allow me to comprehend and absorb about texts of any sort, save for highly specialized ones of of my means of understanding.

I cannot imagine that my undergraduate career was so insufficient that I must be the entire problem.

Furthermore, who cares? Because the short of it is, even if I manage to squeak by I am not being fulfilled due to the sheer volume of work. The system of taking a full time course load along with a work placement for a masters degree to be completed in 11 months destroys much of what makes scholarship fruitful and fulfilling.

And sure, students have managed. I am disturbingly bitter towards anyone who wants to use that argument and use those who have preceded me to justify this issue. Because the truth is, I do not know how they did it and I suspect they perhaps were willing to sacrifice what made them love academia.

Furthermore, I have all my syllabi in hand, mapping out the next 15 weeks. I see no let-up, no change in pace to allow more time for working on papers. While this was built into those classes of undergrad to allow for students to focus on certain academic projects, this graduate program sees no need for the allowance.

And while I am reasonable sure I can manage, I am also reasonably sure I will be disgruntled, resentful and unable to do my best work. As a student who has always wanted to give my very best being stretched thin is perhaps a bigger issue than for most.

So even if I am, in your view, overreacting, I have included valid reasoning. I would stay up all hours and consume coffee til my stomach was eaten through (this may happen anyway) if only I had the time to breathe. Sit down. Think for a bit, without the to do list demanding constant attention.

I will of course, reevaluate this program as I am faced with the papers and projects. i will pay attention to if my predictions come true. but as of right now, none of that can change that I have been up since five AM and am currently extremely disinterested in and gleaning extremely little from my reading.

I do think that this would be changed dramatically had I taken the program part time and done it in two years, as most are done- even on a full time basis. Or perhaps if the standards for passing not quite so high as to keep me in constant anxiety over retaining my job placement and funding, I could relax a bit. But I cannot and I have, before posting any of these developing feelings talked to some extend with fellow "fulltimers".

I am not unreasonable in my high state of worry. In fact, many are scared. Not nervous, but in fear, already feeling the stress of the workload and feeling it is possibly unmanageable, or will take extreme measures to become manageable.

This is not only worrisome for my academic career, but disheartening, discouraging and depressing.

I can only hope in a few weeks, I can return with some change, but I am unable to foresee that at this point.

So at this point, while I am still investing in pursuing this career, the decision to do so under such rapid, concentrated circumstances seems to be a very unwise decision as it pertains to what drives me in academia.

Blah.

Hello world.

My blogs are about to take a skydive in frequency and interesting...ness.

School has started. And really it is a heavy workload. Remember that freakout I had a while back?

Well, this wont be one of those. But that freakout has been justified.

I'll plug through. No sense in iterating my workload over and over, might as well just do what I can as best i can.

Like I said, a skydive in interestingness.

But really, I am dismayed because people seriously must underappreciate all that librarians must learn. Seriously.

Even the crowded bus no longer riles me up. I conserve all my energy for the steady plodding on in my reading and assignments.

A Relaxing Sunday in the life of a grad student:

A wise soul once told me... you will never look forward to a weekend again, it only means being able to do more hours of work in a day.

7:45 Wake up. Today wake up is particularly cranky. Within fifteen minutes I am banished to the shower to end the wake up period of whining and begin my day.

8:15 Start up laptop. Check school email. Email advises to check syllabus and assignments on "Blackboard"

8:30 Cue heart attack. Suffered in silence.

8:45 Stumble downstairs and pour cereal in a haze of horror and disbelief.

9:15 Start reading. Frantically.

11:15 Allow self break to drink coffee and then rush to Office Depot for organizational materials to chart massive to-do list. Once home Line walls with pages from a desk Calendar. Prepare to color code. Get back to reading.

12:35 Allow self 15 minute nap. Utter necessity.


12:50 Back to reading.

1:15 Ramen break. Nap did not provide sufficient energy. Resist coffee.

1:45 Print out syllabus, get to that color coding of assignments across three month span.

2:15 Presumably: back to reading.

The plan:

By 3:00 Take break from reading to tinker with career goals essay.

4:00 Back to reading. READ MORE.

I don't see much change except for dinner.

The Honeymoon is over.

The honeymoon period is over. Over, I say!

I just returned from the most miserable, patience evaporating bus ride ever. While being on a crowded bus is unpleasant, being in a bus so stuffed that people start yelping (yes, imagine a frantic, desperate tone, like a dog) that the bus driver has to open the second set of doors because they can't possibly move to the front to get out, is another story.

I should have not got on this bus. No one could fit in the front doors so he opened the back. I (and others) were met with another solid wall of people but pushed onwards. Why? Because I had been waiting for nearly 20 minutes and was loathe to waste another 20 or more, totaling almost an hour of my time. Especially since the next bus was very likely to be just as jam packed. So I shoved myself on that bus.

And could not move enough to get out. Eventually, after crawling over people, squishing by them, shoving and squirming in an almost tear inducing manner (from frustration) I escaped.

This may have been less than pleasant on any other day but it came on top of a most trying afternoon. Today was my second day of orientation and while the first half was much like yesterday, the second half made me want to get up and walk out. I suffered through learning how to access my email and navigate the website, which I knew, with good humor.

Then we had to sit through a lecture on what plagiarism is. We learned that copying and pasting is indeed plagiarism. We sat through five slides of examples, with the exact passage side by side being told "doing this is plagiarism." We sat and sat through being addressed as if we were in high-school.

I felt like my time was absolutely wasted. Going through the subtler aspects of plagiarism would have been helpful. The less clear cut times, like using a phrase from popular culture that is commonly colloquial, yet has a source from a television show or movie. Things like that.

But no, we never went over that or even citing less tradition sources, another not always known topic. An acceptable topic at our level.

I know I can't copy and paste into my paper and not cite. I know. And I am angry I had to sit through a drawn out lecture on it.

And then go buy an 115.00 book. Trust me, I looked online. I scoured the internet. But it just HAD to be the 2011 edition. Which means no used copies.

"Discovering Computers 2011: Living in a Digital World."

I do not want to discover anything for that much money.

So I fumed my way over to the bus stop. Waiting almost 30 minutes.

And was greeted with the challenge of getting on and off a bus so crammed with people that I'm surprised the bolts didn't pop off and the sides explode outward.

Needless to say, I am cranky.

I now have a thing for goats.

I am back at my beloved coffee shop. It's logo is a goat with a cup of coffee. Where the cream and sugars are hangs a plaque on the wall that is titles "The legend of the dancing goats." I haven't read it, but you should know it is there. I don't understand it, but I enjoy the goat thing.

I have refrained from getting my chai for monetary reasons.

Oh, and I had orientation today. I am near giddy I feel so grown up. Oh how did no one ever tell me how very BABIED undergrads are? For four years I feel so independent, mature and elite. But oh how foolish I was! How many allowances those baby undergrads have!

For my program if I get below a B in a core course (which is 2/3 of them)I fail it and have to take it over. And lose my scholarship. And my work placement. And no, they made clear, a B- does not count as a B.

And late assignments should just not happen. No matter if it's a few hours late or a day late, a professor can refuse it outright. And we are not to question it. Nor are we to "haggle" about our grades.

Nor are we to be late. Of course they say that to undergrads too, but here, they mean it.

And here's a real great one: "Don't be needy!" They said it just like that. That's a direct quote. And oh did they go on and on about how we are INFORMATION SCIENCE students and really we should be able t find 99% of everything we need answered. Which well, is true.

I should be nervous, but instead I feel like I have entered an elite world. A world where people no longer are allowed to cut corners and sneak under the radar and get away with things. Missing class, being late, getting mediocre grades- no longer will be tolerated!

For example. Check in was 8:30-9:00, I walked in at 8:25 thinking I'd be the first or near first. I have always been ridiculed for being so early. I could have been there at 8:20 but I took my time. I was so happy to see a dozen people already there. By 8:35 so many of us were already there they just let us in to the auditorium for the 9:00 session.

I have found my people!

Also, apparently there is quite a difference between librarians and archivists. They were very careful to never just say "librarians" and always differentiated the two. I guess in the field it's not lumped together. So all, I am now in school to be an archivist- if you want to be accurate. Of course my masters will be in Library Sciences so I will technically be a librarian too. A special one.

Oh. And we have been told again and again that we are collaborated, service oriented people. We collaborate. There will be teamwork. At first I cringed. I abhor teamwork. I associate it with unequal division of work, being stuck with people of lesser skills, and suffering a group grade lower than what I am used to after doing the bulk of the work.

I am coming to understand I may be a bit of a snob. When it comes to slackers, I am a bit disdainful. I value motivated people who are always after a good reputation and career oriented.

So I am fighting my deeply rooted apprehension. And hoping this group proves me wrong and that I will be matched with intelligent, hard working, good communication skilled people.

Also, I conquered the bus. Amy- 1 Public Transportation -0.

Tomorrow I tackle day two of orientation.

It includes technology boot camp. That brings a shudder. Wish me luck all.

Chris arrives.

Hello everyone.

I am sipping one of the best Chai Lattes I have had. And I love my Chai. I know Chai. This is glorious Chai.

But I suppose it is more important to tell you that Chris arrived yesterday around four, safe and sound. We took a walk around so he could see all the businesses and shops and neighborhood. We bought fresh Italian bread at the local Bakery and had it with dinner (pasta and salad). He really loves being in walking distance of EVERYTHING.

Since then we have accomplished a lot. We bought more food in the strip district, where Munster cheese is 3.70 a pound, and meat is good and cheap at Wholey's. We then got more odds and ends at a discount grocery for great prices. I made my third trip to Target and got a desk and more curtains. And we got a scratching post for Chris' cat.

Since then Chris has been very busy putting things together, such as my desk, the futon, our new dvd rack, more curtain rod... things. He's pretty handy with tools. Which i a relief because while I could manage I would dread every second!

I learned how to make mushroom Ramen noodles actually very tasty by adding fresh veggies, today I added actually fresh mushrooms and matchstick carrots and I'm thinking broccoli would have been good too. This is exciting.

So we've had a busy day. Also set up an appointment to get internet in the house on Friday. Luckily I am a very close walk to a whole slew of coffee places with free wifi. Which is where I am now. I prefer this place to Starbucks, it's much bigger, tons of outlets and as you now know- a great chai latte.

So I am now updating once again, and searching for any and all information about my orientation tomorrow.And trying to figure out the bus schedule! Wish me luck, I can't help but be a bit nervous!

Okay, a lot nervous. I shall tell everyone all about it tomorrow. Or Friday.

Better get back home soon for dinner.

Liking it here.

Things I have done in Pittsburgh so far:

1) Made a deposit at my new bank.
2) Bought the best tickets left to see Phantom of the Opera with Chris at this gorgeous theater which is 5 miles (about a 10-15 minute drive) from my house:





I've decided I don't go out to see plays and musicals enough. Those I have seen I have enjoyed so immensely I have decided to take advantage of being in the city. I am surrounded by culture. I am ready to embrace it. I love Phantom and am extremely excited to see it performed in a very reputable theater! It was a small splurge but I am thinking well worth putting off some unncessary decorating for.

More discoveries:

I am a 10 minute walk from my local grocerey store, TWO independent theaters and my bank.

I am a 15 minute walk from the library which is very nice. I just got my library card. They have an absolutely fabulous selection, including dvds! We will never have to pay to rent a dvd again! There is also an abundance of computers and work places.

I am a 15-20 minute walk from an extremely large park filled with trails and walking paths.

I am a 20-25 (on the outside) walk from my job. I timed it today, and it's a walk down a gorgeous residential street that after about ten minutes in becomes very high class. You start seeing large well cared for homes with luxury cars in the driveways. All houses have gardens and the street is tree lined and pleasant. I decided I would walk to work every day the weather allows.

Though the houses are much more modest on our street and populated with younger people there are many nice gardens and porches with plants hanging on hooks, wind chimes and decorations of that sort. It's an extremely pleasant and nice neighborhood.

The houses on my street are small, some with grad students in the townhouses, but a few houses up they become single family homes with young families in them.

The nieghbors on both sides of me have introduced themselves upon seeing me, something no nearly as common in Worcester.

So far i am finding I have the best of both worlds, a 15 minutes drive into the heart of the city, twenty minute bus ride to campus, and the persk of living in a residential neighboorhood with lawns and trees and quiet.

i think I will have a good year here, and if possible, maybe even stay.

More moving adventure. Without the adventure.

So, the new place.

It's in overall good working condition.

It's far too big. But we aren't paying as much as it should cost so it's not like we're hurting for it. I just need to adjust my mindset because I am feeling silly for having so much SPACE.

Also, I had absolutely NO IDEA how much stuff it took to get set up. I had NOTHING a "homeowner" which I'm not but a new apartment renter isn't as catchy. Luckily my dad was prepared to get me all set up. With all those things I didn't know I'd need or didn't think of. We took two trips to Lowes. I have TOOLS and a step ladder and better lighting and extension cords, and adapters and lots of stuff. And he carefully talked to about half a dozen workers about exactly the best kinds of everything and what a newbie like me needed and thought of everything.

He also though of things I would have forgotten. Like a vacuum, a can opener, a drain catch thingy for hair in the tub, pot holders, a toothbrush holder...

Everything. He helped me note all the things the landlord needs to know about fixing or just about the condition of the apartment. Like the storm window that fell out onto my head while I was sitting on the floor looking for a screw. Yeah, I didn't have to go to the hospital...well...I should have but didn't. Yes, an entire storm window fell out at the top when I touched it by accident and came down on my head parallel to the floor.

But enough of that. PIcs now!

This is the kitchen. It's small. But ultimately, nice.



This is the living room, very spacious. First room you walk into.

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The dining room. Oh look, more space.



A view of the stairs and built in bookcases between living room and dining room.



No pics of upstairs for now, I couldn't get pics I was happy with. Maybe when we decorate and settle in I'll try again.

Adventures in a Penske Truck

The scene: One father and daughter. One 16 Foot truck towing a car.

Adventure One: Getting out of the driveway.

Driving a sixteen foot truck is manageable for a seasoned driver. Even one without too much experience with a truck quite that big. However, if you add a whole car on the end it quickly inches very close to UNmanagable. Place the truck and car in a narrow driveway on a street with cars parked on both sides at five AM and you got yourself in need of a miracle.

This is where my father and I found ourselves. About 27.65 seconds out of the driveway and the front left end of the truck maybe an inch from a car and the right wheel of the tow dolly maybe millimeters from a car. And so there was no way he was going forward...but going back was perilous too.

He looked very, very stuck. And at 5 AM, we couldn't start ringing doorbells asking people if those cars were theirs. And even if they were I'm not sure they could have moved them. So one of us is swearing, the other screeching and then...my dad has to try something so...

He backed up. But he forced the wheels of the tow dolly sideways with the truck and somehow...well, let's just say it was a miracle.

And THAT was the start of what should have been a 9.5-10 hour drive...and because a 16.5 hour drive. Little did we know it was a bad omen that would bring road work, detours, closed bridges, wrong addresses and driving a big truck in not big truck friendly places.

Adventure Two: The GPS goes haywire.

I cant say how joyous the occasion of returning the truck seemed. As soon as we could we detached the car and went off to get rid of the massive burden. So luckily, I got to hop in the car and follow dad. Along the way I noticed it seemed to be taking longer than it should have. I had a sinking feeling but wasn't about to call my dad while he was driving.

Soon we were heading up the Dusquesne incline, which is more or less a mountain. At the top there is a scenic outlook...with lots of cars and people. The road was so narrow due to parked cars dad nearly needed to be in the middle of it. I knew he was probably nervous.

Then...we headed right down. Down the winding steep steep road, filled with hair pin turns and switch backs where you cant see on coming traffic until they round the bend. I couldn't hear dad but I knew he was petrified, taking a truck like that with the tow dolly around those bends on a steep hill. I was sure something was wrong.

To this day I dont know why the GPS freaked out. He took a wrong turn and it just kept giving him odd rights and lefts from there and squawking "Turn around when possible" in utterly impossible places. Whcih is near everywhere for that truck.

Eventually he pulled over and I got it sorted. By a miracle. Another one.

Adventure Three: Where does the truck GO?

So I had dutifully called ahead as we'd be rturning it after business hours. I asked for very specific instructions to be sure we'd know what to do. I was told how to identify the location (By a large white garage door) and then the guy said I'd see lots of other trucks and to just find a space where one was open.

I could only guess we would pull into a lot. Some large lot. Right? No, we pull up to the building...in an industrial area with no retail places, and lots of warehouses and factories and such. And no lot. And no signs for "Truck return this way" Nothing.

We spot two even BIGGER trucks circling the block. I hail them down. Other renters.

With no clue. Everyone was near ready to throw up their hands. Should we just dump the trucks on a nearby side street? And hope they FIND THEM? Turns out thats what two or three others had done. We found three other parked trucks on a sketchy side street along the curb.

But there wasn't much room, without blocking other places garage doors. We were at a loss. There hadn't even been suggestions on where to find enough space to park!

Eventually the lot of us parked them near the others, after circling blocks and maneuvering the trucks around corners we didn't much care.

So I hope they found it. I certainly wont be held accountable if someone broke in and stole the radio. Or parts. Or slashed the tires. Or the whole damn truck disappeared.

So. Those are the adventures of in a Penske Truck. More to come.

Bad news.

Today I woke up and hit the ground running. I dropped off my car for a check up before leaving the area (responsible), set up an account with a more convenient and plentifully located bank in Pittsburgh (responsible), started cleaning my room so the floor will be clear and the dresser/ bureau will be ready to be moved (responsible) and went to purchase bathroom needs for my new place (responsible).

I had planned on writing a blog about how savvy I was feeling because I got a really chic shower curtain and bedset (room set) without breaking the bank. In fact, I was going to crow about how I was born to decorate. I returned from the shopping trip rejuvenated and began carefully wrapping up my doll collection for the move.

I was in the midst of wrapping Felicity (American girl doll) when the car shop called.

I expected maybe a few minor repairs to have it in tip top shape or to preemptively take care of things so I wouldn't have to in PA. I expected to have to shell out some money, it's an old car and I realize that, but no worse.

So when I got the equivalent of you may want to sit down for this...I still wasn't fully prepared for what was to come. It was just above "well, we took care of towing it to the junk yard for you." in terms of bad news.

I had been assuming it would more or less hold out a year. Just a year. It was all I asked of the car. And I had grown to love the car. But is has turned on me like an angry teenager, except, well, much older.

Apparently it is unlikely that i will get my year. Which was a nice way of saying, it is closer to a joke. Truth be told I make light of it now but I [s]almost[/s] had a full blown panic attack when they told me all the parts which were severely rotted. Oh and the problem with the anti lock brakes. (That's not scary. Oh wait. YES IT IS.)

Oh and about the parts that are now obsolete. So, when it goes (and it's going alright), that will be it. No easy fix. No fix. No.

And of course it could last 11.9 months, or 2 days. Or 3 months, or 5 weeks.

It's a time bomb.

And that's fine, in a sense any car could be. things break and nothing lasts forever.

But I will be very far from family and friends. I will be wholly independent. And I will be a very broke grad student making 0 income.

0 income.

How do you get another car on 0 income?

You take the bus. The unreliable, late, limited schedule, bus. This makes the bus RIDER unreliable, sometimes late, and limited. I do not like that.

Fine, I'll haul my groceries on the bus, my purchases, whatever. I'll stand outside in the cold and rain. People have to do this sometimes.

But the second I'm late or show up wet/soaked/not presentable, that damn bus will reflect on my reputation. And that, in my mind is absolutely horrific. Because I am always on time, always presentable. I am accommodating and flexible when a superior needs me to be somewhere. The thought of having to work around/suffer the consequences of a bus while trying to be a professional young lady has me in a fit.

Over dramatic? Sure, but it's my first move and first time away from home. I have responsibilities. And I have worries. Cut me some slack, it's pretty dire news for an already scared, nervous 22 year old girl.

I must have wracked up bad karma with my superficial attachment to the shower curtain. This shall be a lesson learned: if you get the urge to brag about your purchases, your car will suddenly be found to be rotted, obsolete and about to spontaneously combust.

Don't do it.

So, apparently the last entry was a bit of an unnecessary freak out. Maybe. It seems it may have had as much to do with the current cycle of the moon, the tides and time of month as it did with grad school.

I say this because I had a similar reaction when faced with the trials of parking in Cambridge, midday. I mean, I was pretty sure it was going to destroy my sanity and/or bank account. Sound familiar?

I think, perhaps, just maybe I was a bit over-dramatic.

However, I have now become an expert at searching out textbooks online. Perhaps insanely unnecessary distress does have it's upsides, albeit small upsides, but nonetheless...

Unfortunately, some textbooks are just outrageously expensive. And because these seem to be mysteriously rare (more like specialized) when they do come up used, the USED prices are all above the list price.

ONe title, for example is: Selecting and Appraising Archives and Manuscripts.

I'm guessing even as a textbook, it's not widely in use. Because not only am I in a library science masters program, but a specialized Archival track. Which not every LIS Masters program offers.

At first that stressed me out a lot.

Then I realized that I would just buy them for less new at the university bookstore, which has the list of books in stock and prices.

It came as such a shock that I would be able to get certain books for less NEW at the bookstore. No shipping and no inflation due to demand.

It boggles my mind. Sure, there are still sever $65.00 textbooks but that sure beats say, something like $87.00 for a used one.

So, I have calmed down thanks to the shifting of the moon/tides/passing of days.

Let's hope mother nature has pity on me the next time around and eases up on the emotional roller coaster.

In unrelated news, I have few pictures from recent shoots that I am pretty proud of (click for the full size photo):

Someone said I look exotic in this one. The idea that *anyone* could see me as exotic was strange but delightful.



This was a really cool shoot in that I was allowed to use someone's 1955 Thunderbird Convertible.

Terrified.

Perhaps I was absolutely, positively, utterly delusional about grad school. I must have been. Or someone has forgotten to sit me down and slap me in the face with the reality of what grad school means.

I sound like I've started the semester already, don't I? Well, the truth is, I have only gotten two innocent enough emails. One with a book list and dates each is to be read by in its entirety and the other with a fifteen page syllabus.

Class one: 11 books.

Class two: 12 books.

I will be taking four classes. At this rate I'll be up around 50 books a semester. And for the sake of being internet-classy, I wont spell out the financial portion of this panic attack. But let's just say, even buy them super use online is proving to be a horrifying, panic inducing task.

I don't know which is freaking me out more, the massive amount of money I am pouring into these books or the enormous task of somehow reading, comprehending, intellectually engaging with and remembering the contents of each.

I know tons of people pass through grad school each year. They manage. They are able to do it, stay sane and come out the other end with a magical job-earning piece of paper. So why does it seem to utterly impossible to me?

I'm having trouble just keep everything I need to get done to move straight, this stress is not needed and seems to be having this paralyzing effect on me. Kind of like deer in the headlights fear. Like that AHIMGOINGTOBECRUSHEDTONOTHING fear.

But, you know, I have always wondered how professors accrued the massive amounts of books in their offices and homes. I have always marveled at how their walls were just LINED with books. I used to think they must have been for reference, no one person could possibly have read all those books.

Now I know the answer. They went to grad school. That got them half. then they started their doctorates and wham. Other half.

End product: awe inducing library/personal collection of books.

I suppose that's one small thing to look forward to. I am bringing two book cases from home. And stealing Chris' bookcase. Sure, he has things on it. But apparently...I need it more.

Southside Works

I didn't think Pittsburgh was going to give me blog material today. We went to the Carnegie Museums and while you need about 10 hours to fully get through two of the four, it didn't *inspire* me other than being a very very big impressive museum.

Then we found another shopping center. This place was very different from the Strip so it deserves its own blog. It's called the Southside Works. It's a shopping center with a huge, gorgeous Cheese Cake factory sitting in the middle like a palace. In front of the Cheesecake factory is a little plaza, like a courtyard, to further make the impression of the palace like building being the center of everything. Which I think was a wise choice, I am fully in support of the cheesecake factory getting to place of honor. What can I say, I'm a little too fond of dessert.

There is nothing gritty or cheap about this place. Even the movie theater, while having normal ticket prices, has a nice carpeted grand staircase you go up to get to concessions and the theaters. It's decorated in the Art Deco style, evoking a 1920's feel and again breaking from the feel of it being a chain. Another point for Pittsburgh and their refusal to fill up plazas with chain stores.

The restaurants and stores are more upscale, and the fast food places are hidden up a block, even those are Qudoba and Subway and a neat pita place rather than the typical Wendy's and McDonald's.

One restaurant was McCormick and Shmicks, a very expensive seafood place. There was a large bookstore and little boutique shops, the only one I recognized was a Forever 21, oh, and a New York and Company. It was neat, clean and a lovely place to go for a date night movie and dinner or to just feel trendy. A few blocks up it became a popular night hotspot with a street lined with bar after bar (but nothing down in the dumps, places young people would like to go) and a few more small restaurants.

Unlike the Strip, it was more of a shopping center for well established and very reputable stores rather than unique ethnic and vendors or independent artists. It also upped Blackstone in quality and accessibility, with shops along the street and centered around the courtyard rather than in a huge plaza. This way you could enjoy walkways and sidewalks without everything being clustered around a massive parking lot. I found it much more pleasing to the eye and to getting from store to store.

I don't think I'd be a regular there but for movies, there are 5 dollar Mondays and with a student ID you get a dollar off, so for the cinema and a nice meal out to the Cheesecake Factory, which I very very very highly recommend from repeat experiences, it is absolutely perfect.

A great, great place for a weekend date. Perhaps to spend money saved from shopping at the Strip on a dinner and movie.

Southside Works website: with picture of the courtyard, cheesecake factory and theater to the right on the homepage, check out what I mean!

http://www.southsideworks.com/

The Strip District

Pittsburgh has given me the itch to write. In three days, one of which doesn't count since I didn't even venture into the city, Pittsburgh has reached to my inner writer, grabbed hold and made me love it. So now, in turn I must do the same (whether the reader has an inner writer or not, I want the city to grab something and make you love it).

Today, my father and I ventured down to what is known as the Strip District. Saturday is a huge market day, where in addition to the normal stores and permanent markets, vendors come sell wares and foods on the sidewalk. It's also the day most people come down. So, it's a bustling, lively place on Saturdays.

The strip district has a bit of a gritty feel to it. It's not gross or slummy, but it's not architecturally pretty or historic or like Faneuil Hall in Boston. It has a lot of warehouses that have become large markets, and in between there are smaller specialty shops. But really, how it looks isn't what you'll notice or care about if you're wandering the streets. I say this from experience, I can barely recall how it looked.

What I can recall, is that this is a foody's paradise. A foody (foodie?) in a very loose sense is someone who adores exploring food, is a food snob or loves exotic/eccentric foods. This place has a famous market for fish and meats called Wholey's right when you enter. I saw a girl walk by with a bag full of frozen octopus and passed by a animatronic steer head singing and “talking” to passerby over a cooler full of ribs. Someone has a sense of humor in this place. Also, it's huge. A fun place to explore and looks nothing like a conventional supermarket, with huge tanks of live trout and lobsters and a warehouse feel (but not like Bjs or Sams club, this place is more open, not organized strictly into rows/aisles) it makes for a more interesting and appealing layout.

Though there are a few other large markets like Pennsylvania Macaroni Co. which is a sprawling place with whole shelves dedicated to hot sauces and olive oils.\ All the brands were unrecognizable and sporting interesting names. The variety was stupefying and even somewhat baffling. But nonetheless fun to explore and I suspect fun to try out. It was such a large store it could afford to just find every type of everything it seems. And it's so much more homey (despite the size) than both our grocery stores and the wholesale outlets!

Then, you have the specialty markets. There is one for everything. There is a large Asian market, a Mediterranean food market, and an Italian food market filled with imported goods. Fancy chocolate shops, coffee shops bearing fascinating jams, jellies and breads and huge lists of latte flavors fall on the smaller side of the ethnic food markets which are large considering the specific niche of foods they supply. Other interesting shops include an entire shop devoted to spices, clothing shops, restaurants and the only sign of a chain is the lone McDonalds tucked at the end of the street. As a whole, chain places tend to fall towards an occasional cluster of fast food places, which are few and far between and the necessary grocery stores. But in the neighborhood even those are more HWole foods and Trader Joe's. The city seems to have embraced independent markets, coffee shops, and small businesses.

Another great find was a huge discount grocery store, filled with bizarre odds and ends (but so many the place a jam packed with everything you'd need for basics and then some- just don't go looking for a specific brand or super specific need) for prices my father and I were exclaiming over. It's a poor student's paradise in there, with everything at a extremely low price it's worth the short driver into the heart of the city on a Saturday to do all the weeks shopping in the district. Between this place for staples and the many ethnic food markets, Wholey's for meat and super cheap produce places (I didn't even mention the produce place we found- dad was comparing prices and EVERYTHING was significantly lower than at home. Example: 3 lbs of Gala apples for $3.00 at home it has never gotten below $2.00 per lb!), being on a budget wont be as much of a stretch at all.

Furthermore, it's a great place to grab breakfast or lunch while out shopping for cheap. On the street vedors were selling huge pieces of chicken for $3.00, lobster rolls for $5.00 and fresh made salmon/shrimp dinners with rice and grilled veggies for as low as $6.00.

Furthermore, Dad and I found people to be friendly. We made friends with a guy advertising Wholey's products on the street via a sound system and talking over his lunch break he revealed he OWNs the Wholey's business and it's actually a huge company, way beyond the market we saw (a 100 million dollar enterprise) and he even gave us his card. We began talking to another few guys and one was visiting from Rome!

Also, the city is sports crazed. I hate to say this but it seems to rival and possibly even surpass our beloved Red Sox nation. I have never, ever seen as much black and gold merch being sold. Even in the heart of Boston, there is nothing like the way these people rep their sports teams. It's intimidating to someone not local. I feel as if I scream outsider by not stopping to browse the sports teams products on every corner!

I haven't even started on the residential neighborhoods. Those are a fascinating blog in themselves. But, maybe tomorrow.

My new place.

So today something bordering on bizarre happened. Well, in a good way. Not a miracle, but more than just good luck.

So, since Wednesday I have been in Pittsburgh apartment searching. Now, since Chris is coming with me for a host of reasons I am too tired to explain my dad really turned me on to having a second bedroom to use as a study and to have more space since we are a couple who will be learning to live together.

For a while I fought him on it, refusing to consider it because I didn't want to spend the extra money. But more and more it started sounding like a really practical and smart idea. So, still keeping money in mind I started asking about seeing two bedrooms along with one bedrooms. Well, the first one I saw was in nasty condition, with no parking, and electric heat which would drive our bills up considerably. The cabinets and floor were in bad conditions and the bedrooms were tiny.

I was not impressed. More money, less quality. The next day (today) we saw a very very nice one bedroom that was spacious and extremely well kept, included garage parking for an extra monthly fee and the management was fantastic. It seemed like an amazing apartment. If *only* it had two bedrooms! But it was a possibility. After we stumbled upon a small coffee shop next door and went in. On our way out dad spotted a small, unremarkable sign on a business across the street. It was a realty company. He asked if we should pop in and ask what they had. I hesitated, didn't realty catered more to houses? He said they did apartments to. I was still iffy. We had an appointment coming up, and another in the afternoon and even more on Monday.

But he went in and I followed. And we asked. The guy only had stuff left in the run down area of town...or...townhouses. Immediately I dismissed it mentally, I mean, a grad student in a townhouse? We had gotten prices on some out of curiosity and they ran 1,100 + all utilities and up. No way. But he gave us the prices for these and it was much lower, even doable!

They were just around the corner so we even took a peek at the outside. Not a bad neighborhood, not falling down. They looked sound and sturdy, not new and shiny, but modest brick buildings with a cozy porch, and the one open even had a tree in the yard. It was a one way street and parking seemed easily available. The one up for rent was actually occupied but he had a 4:00 appointment already and agreed to squeak/sneak us in at 3:45! So we made an appointment to view one, with the mind set it must be run down or damaged or old.

Then our next appointment started with a nasty nasty run down sketchy basement apartment, but then we saw another property with a very spacious two bedroom. The place was bright, nice, had a living room, dining area, small second bedroom for an office, but dad kept saying the bedroom seemed too cramped.

It was all that kept us from pulling the trigger on the spot for this place, and I was thinking he was being a bit fussy. But he kept mentioning how tight a fit it would be for a bed, how much we needed a bureau, etc. I didn't think the townhouse could possibly be better but since the appointment was in an hour we kept it and didn't sign.

So, onto the moment of truth (I didn't know that at the time).

We walked in to this place and my eyes shot open. It was spacious, pristine, the walls were smooth and without any show of wear or tear, with nice hardwood floors that were undamaged (and we were looking after one horendous place!), and nice large windows. The living room was big, the dining room was huge! The kitchen was modest, but larger than most, and it came with a basement for storage! The basement was a completely clear large room with hookup for washer/dryer which the current tenants had in place.

Then, upstairs, there were two and a half bedrooms and a bathroom. The two rooms (both bedrooms) were HUGE. Easily BOTH bigger than all the bedrooms we had seen. The bathroom was good. The carpeting was new, nice and thick, soft and positively spotless. (Upstairs was carpeted, downstairs was hardwood).

The “half” bedroom was used as a baby's nursery and would make good storage or even a very small office.

There were new windows, just put in. It was connected to two other units so as far as heating there were only two “cold” or exposed walls. Heating wasn't electric (a big plus) but gas. It felt like a small house. We could NOT find a flaw. It was more spacious than anything we had seen in terms of room sizes, and it was nicer or as a nice as anything else. And it was affordable. Doable.

So today I signed a lease on a cute little two and a half bedroom townhouse. Do I strictly need the space? Well, yes and no. Chris and I are a happy couple, but new to living together, have two floors and a spacious office to seclude myself for schoolwork seems like a near priceless investment. Also, this means I have more than enough space for bringing luxuries like our full sized tall bookcases, both desks, and still having space to MOVE AROUND.

Also, it's lovely having my own place, with washer and dryer in my basement, not having to share. It feels like a home. And I cannot get over the condition.

We were frank with the realtor, we asked what was up. He said the guy who owned these had owned them for 30 years and didn't feel the need to sap every penny he could from them.

He also said he had just put this one up as available, and I mean *just*. The four o clock appt. was the very first he had made. Well, that made us the VERY first to see it. We told him we'd take it. Luckily his four oclock appointment never showed!

The other unit he put up got through a whole two showings before the second person snapped it up on the spot, like we did.

These places are just a FIND. And we just randomly walked in off the street around 12:30, beat out the very first appointment by 15 minutes because he was nice about squishing us in and by 4:00...had ourselves a deal.

What a stroke of LUCK!

The best part, in walking distance is a commercial center with a nice large grocery and then tons of independent eateries, coffee shops, a second string movie theater (shows older movies) and tons of neat little shops! A block over the street my internship is on begins, and it's just a straight shot to the location! Easy to get to or what?

I'm still in disbelief.