Tag Archives: grad school

He showed me the whole of time and space. I thought it would never end.

November 11, 2011 By in blogging, Me Tags: , , , , , , , , , 27 Comments

Posting to this blog has been spotty, at best, as you may have noticed. I used to talk with most of you every day on GReader or Twitter, but now that GReader is dead, and Google+ is incredibly not fun (it feels less culty?), I’m feeling the need to post actual content on this here blog of mine. I feel like I’ve lived an entire lifetime in the six months since I essentially abandoned the internet.

For example, some stuff that has happened to me since last May:

  • Graduated from college for the second time, this time with a Master’s degree in English Literature or something. This is apparently a big deal, but I have yet to write about the lengthy and ridiculous process of my exams, which several of you have been requesting since March. Sorry about that, and I’ll get to it eventually? Hopefully? Meanwhile, even the thought of reliving that experience in any form makes me want to gouge my eyeballs out. EYE JELLY.
  • Got a job working for an insurance agency as a receptionist. Somehow this evolved into getting licensed to sell insurance, something that I never asked for, and which ended up causing me even more stress. I’ve been in school for 80% of my life (80%!!), and I liked it – and you know what? Not being in school SUCKS.
  • Hated my new job more than I’ve ever hated anything, and it basically ruined my life for five months. By the end, I was having trouble sleeping and eating, and every morning before work I’d be so nauseous I’d think I was going to barf. (You know it’s bad when I can’t eat.) I had two nervous breakdowns. I’m not going to go into details, mostly because I feel like it would be inappropriate, but also because I’ve put the whole situation behind me and don’t really want to think about it anymore.
  • Was fired from that job in the middle of October. Again, not going into it any further than to say: it sucked (both the job, and being fired).
  • A mix-up in the way my credits were handled almost meant that I didn’t officially get my degree. My very smart way of handling this situation was to ignore my school email-account for three months, like it was going to go away on its own, and when I finally worked up the nuts to read it, I panicked so hardcore. Luckily, things worked out, no thanks to me, IDIOT.
  • Lost all the weight I put on in grad school (ten pounds), because of stress, and because I was subsisting pretty much on iced tea, beans, and peanut butter & jelly sandwiches.
  • Got another job working for the same company but for a different agent, and it’s been like night and day. I don’t see myself at this job long-term, but it’s a nice enough way to spend the day, and most importantly, the working environment is incredibly pleasant (as opposed to the toxic work environment I’d been in for five months previously).
  • My roommate of five years left me to move in with her boyfriend. This was incredibly traumatic. I miss you, Strawberry :(
  • Moved into a new apartment with a friend from Barnes & Noble. Moving expenses gutted my bank account.
  • I was homeless for a period of three days.
  • Moving expenses, among other changes, helped me to dig myself into an impressively deep financial hole that I am only now finding my way out of.
  • I literally borrowed money from everyone I’ve ever met.
  • Defaulted on one of my credit cards in early September. This made me feel awful, but I couldn’t afford to pay it. I’ve been dodging calls from creditors ever since. One day, I will have NO MORE DEBT. ONE DAY!
  • It hasn’t been all bad. I was offered a writing position with Film.com in September, and it’s kind of a dream come true. I feel like I should write more about this later, but I’ve been writing about TV for four years now, just for shits and giggles, and now I’m getting PAID to do it. Not to be obnoxious or anything, but it’s totally awesome.
  • My cats broke my DVD player. (Don’t ask.)
  • On a related note, I finally bought a Blu-Ray Player! (But then I had to return it.)
  • I watched the entire revived Doctor Who, and it was so good, you guys. It was like the only good thing in my life for like months and months. BTW, I still owe you a post about Doctors Ten & Eleven. (Here’s my post about Nine, just in case you missed it.)
  • All of this, the leaving of the safe bosom of mother education, the having to work all day every day, the constant paying of the bills, even the cool new gig . . . it has all lead me to one conclusion. I have no freaking idea what I want to do with the rest of my life.
  • None of the previous bullet points are hyperbole, and you guys know how much I like using hyperbole. Why am I not dead right now?

To sum all of this up: QUARTER LIFE CRISIS. IT IS HERE. I WILL NOW PROCEED TO TYPE THIS IN ROBOT VOICE. BECAUSE I CAN.

From the Archives: ‘Bridget Jones Goes to Grad School’

April 21, 2011 By in Me Tags: , , 7 Comments

Since the day I passed my Masters Exams, I have been the most unproductive person on the planet. My roommate Alison thinks this is because my brain is “recovering” from what basically amounts to six months of prolonged psychological trauma. Whatever the reason, I have been incapable of doing much more than the basics: going to work, grading papers, watching television, cleaning, eating, and reading. And I can’t watch or read anything ‘serious’, either. It’s all fluff. Glorious, mindless, brain-candy fluff. This also means my writing has suffered, including this blog and Big Damn Heroes. Why should I be writing when I could be in my bed taking an illicit three-hour afternoon nap? When I could be stepping out for an afternoon movie? I’m sure this phase will pass eventually. I think. For now, though, I wanted to give you at least a little something. The post below was, fittingly enough, written on my first day of graduate school three years ago. That Ashley was so happy. She didn’t know how much her brain would hurt.

- – -

August 13, 2008
8:36 AM
Weight: out of shape
Caffeine consumed: 3 cups coffee (1 strawberry, v. healthy)

Sitting in small classroom in a basement. Everyone looks v. smart*, dressed v. well. Feel v. stupid. I am cutest one in room, though, so plus!

Lesson #1 — Written on board by edgy looking blonde woman, obviously in charge. Must make note to talk to her in person. She writes: “Be firm, be fair, be friendly.” This sounds like important advice, v. important.

This is new exp. for me, not automatically assuming I am smartest one in room. Must work on being more humble around stupid people, also being smarter around smarter people. (Also, look up tips on how to seem smarter than one actually is.)

An observation: lots of people wearing glasses. Should I be wearing glasses? I will wear glasses tomorrow. Some theories about why so many people are wearing glasses: a) makes look smart, b) glasses a “cool badge” in nerd circles, c) don’t care about appearance, d) don’t care what others think, e) trying as hard as possible not to look like belong in sorority or fraternity (counter-culture — must try to be more counter-culture), or f) something I’ve not thought of yet.

This v. fun.

Just realized, these people my equals. HOLY BALLS.

Man sitting next to me named Seth; quizzes me incessantly on my “interests.” Very nice (wedding ring).

There is a hippy lady sitting in front of me. She has dreadlocks and birkenstocks. Am wondering — how does one wash one’s hair with dreadlocks. Am afraid of the smellage. Handsome gent w/ curly hair in front row. Would be willing to overlook the ponytail; is very large and muscular.

Must remember to feed the cat when get home; no cake tonight, trying to be “healthy”. (Will probably eat cake tonight.)

*This channeling of Bridget Jones has been brought to you by a once in a lifetime opportunity called Ashley was v. bored. You should actually probably stop reading and just go read the book.

[Originally posted on August 14, 2008]

Sometimes I shouldn’t say words.

December 17, 2010 By in Me Tags: , , , , 13 Comments

Yesterday, at the end of a full day of panic attack while attempting to write my Last Paper Ever, Alison came home and expressed dismay that I hadn’t finished yet.

“I was really looking forward to coming home and everything being happy here,” she said, as I pressed my face into the wall and moaned loudly in totally non-forced agony.

“Why can’t I write my p-a-a-a-a-per?” I said, banging my face against the refrigerator, having just slid my prostrate body over to it.

Her response to this was kind of awesome. And look, I’ll be the first to admit that even though I’m awesome — which it says right there in my blog header, so you know it’s true — I have my flaws. A lot of these flaws are only apparent if you live with me, because I take great care to hide them from the rest of the world. For example, I’m fucking annoying about being clean. If you leave your shit out for too long, I will clean it for you. If you don’t do your dishes, I will do them for you. I have been told by every person I’ve ever lived with that this makes people feel guilty. I try to tell them that I can’t help it, I just NEED to clean things, but making them feel guilty makes me feel guilty. It’s a whole cycle of guilt. Also, I’m super bad at calling people back on the telephone machine, I pilfer cookies, and I hit my snooze button for two hours sometimes in the morning, which wakes up everyone but me. Also, I use the word ‘also’ too much.

But back to the question that I moaned into the refrigerator.

“Why can’t I write my p-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-per?” I said again, with more A’s, my cheek squealing against the black whatever-it-is-refrigerators-are-made-of.

“Because you hate it,” she said, while stealing some of our other roommate’s pizza, “And you are REALLY bad at doing things you hate.”

And that’s true. I didn’t realize this was something most people don’t have a problem with. I’d never really thought about it before, but there are actually people in the world who deal with their shit and don’t end up with their faces planted on refrigerators, or having to wake up at four in the morning — current Mountain time — to finish a paper that should have been due by five in the afternoon the day before, just because they couldn’t pull their shit together enough to write ten more pages.

“Goodbye,” I said to Alison, “I’m going to kill myself now.”

“No, you’re not,” she said. “Just write words. Words that you think.”

“I can’t,” I said. “It’s too hard. I’m going to fail.”

“You would rather kill yourself than fail?”

“Yes.”

Don’t touch the logic. It’s impeachable.

Here are some things I would rather be doing than writing this paper: sleeping, eating cookies, working at Barnes & Noble, watching Fringe and being mad that Olivia dyed her hair blonde again, having my teeth cleaned at the dentist, having a cavity filled at the dentist, having all my teeth pulled out at the dentist and replaced by wooden dentures like George Washington had, thinking about Muppets, drinking coffee, paying overdue bills, wrestling a rabid tiger, attending a Justin Bieber concert, smacking bitches, and writing this blog post. Somebody save me.

You’re welcome for the song in your head.

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