My life is set for approximately the next two years. Hopefully, with little to no deviation. I'm almost done with my first semester of graduate school. I just have about 14 pages to complete before the end of the semester next week.
I'm slated to graduate with my Master of Arts in English Language and Literature in May 2013. I've been offered (and I accepted) a position to teach two sections of English 101: Freshman Composition as a Graduate Assistant. I even got hired by the University and all. I get a small (small) stipend, and a tuition waver for up to 20 credits per year.
I really want to teach when I graduate. I know that I will probably teach composition (hopefully at a community college) for a few years, and then I'll think about a PhD program. I'll see when I get there. I'll also be able to get a job as a grant writer for an organization, as I will be trained in that by the time I graduate.
Things are going. Things are happening. Good things.
I've been waiting
Waiting under things
That rise in the morning
I've been holding
Holding back so long
You can own it
Take it off my hands
Do me a favor
Nothin wasted
Just fingerfucked and
Busted up all at once
I'm so lost out on the highway
With no direction left to go
Everyday sit up and wonder
Where it was I started from
Graduate school is easy. I started in January. So much less crap than undergrad ever was. With that being said, it's getting to the crunch time of the semester that I haven't quite prepared for because I've been busy doing stuff such as:
1. Working at the Writing Center 15 hours/week
2. Organizing a huge fundraiser for the Theodore Roethke House in Saginaw
3. Presenting at the Eastern Central Writing Centers Association Conference
4. Presenting at the Michigan Women's Studies Association Conference
5. Founding and hosting meetings of Anarchists without Adjectives
6. Applying for Teach for America
7. Applying for a graduate assistantship position to teach English 101 next year
8. Sleeping
9. Planning
10. Blogging
Between now and April 9th, I have a presentation and a 15-20 page paper to write for one class. Between now and May 1, I have a 12 page paper, a presentation, and several smaller assignments to complete. Oh, and probably about 2,000 pages of reading. Eh.
Dying
I'm doing this poetry analysis on Percy Shelley's sonnet Ozymandias. If you know the work, then you'll recognize that the brevity of human existence is a theme undeniably touched on in the piece. Its a common motif in art. Everyone dies.
But in the books I read, the movies I watch, their lives are made immortal through their works. I watched the Matrix this weekend, and as disappointing as I found the second and third installments Neo will continue forever, in or outside of the source code, or whatever techno-fantasy justification exists for his perpetuated existence. Because he was a bad-ass who, despite the ability to do basically whatever the fuck he wanted, only manifested his power in the ability to fly, master martial arts, and stop bullets. Not a creative messiah, but a god in his own world.
And isn't that the way of them all? Even nonfictional accounts are a testimony to the subject, and even if they die they are encapsulated forever and shelved in a library near you.
They say you're the hero of your own story. And often enough the hero doesn't die, and in that way he lives doubly. The story ends, he fells Voldemort, destroys the Ring, survives Tarmon Gaidon, gets the Bluth Company out of trouble, WHATEVER. And then he's not only locked away for the rest of eternity, but their fictitious lives have years left to wile away on imagined future greatness, or to simply enjoy.
All of this aimless, unfocused musing is just a response to breakfast today. The Glee Club leads the singing of the last verse of the Alma Mater when a graduate of West Point is killed in action. And that's gonna make you think. The odds are tremendously in your favor. This is the first that has died this school year, which is terrific right? But nevertheless, just by taking the oath you accept that you're gambling your life. Sure, I might be more likely to die in a car accident or have a sixteen ton anvil fall on my head, but these are accidents and Acts of Acme, and are negligible risks that we are forced to take by living.
Becoming a 'professional warrior' just invites death to be a part of your life.
Which made me think about how unimmortal 1LT Daren Hidalgo is. We sang him a song, and for a moment his name resonated in the entire Corps, but its a brief moment really. Sure, he's got friends and family that will remember him longer, but it will dull and fade, only to be recalled achingly at particular moments. And they'll die, the only thing really keeping him from ultimate death. And then he'll really be dead. Totally, irrevocably dead after a score and some change of life. He went to school for almost his whole life, and in less than two years out of the gate he was killed. He Was Born, Then He Was Taught, Then He Fought, Then He Died.
Its amazing how our lives are simplified without an account of them. Let's face it, Harry Potter's story was shorter, but far more celebrated because seven well-crafted books made him a cash cow, a religious debate, and a hero. William Wallace was a nobody to much of the world until Mel Gibson made the movie, and now his epic is a standard for young men movie watchers.
Then I started wondering if being remembered matters at all. Why am I so obsessed with it? Well, its probably because I'm afraid of dying. Very few people at my age aren't, I reckon. I really hope 1LT Hidalgo was. Ready to die that is. In the sense that he knew his purpose, and when he was shuffled off the mortal coil he had reservations somewhere.
And I'm reading this book called The Name of the Wind. I want to finish it. Because someday (hell or highwater) I'm going to pen my own book. Maybe that'll be my legacy.
Whoa, maybe that's what we need. Do we need a legacy? Do we need children, or stories, or deeds, or something external to immortalize us? Something we did/made with our own hands?
Legacy. Interesting.
Ozymandias
I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert...Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Pieces of Muffin
There are pieces of muffin in my coffee this morning.
There is something that I have come to realize after reading my past posts from high school.
#1: I was immature.
#2: I was boy crazy.
#3: I was selfish.
I wish someone would have been up front and honest with me about my actions. Even though I pulled good grades all throughout high school, you can definitely tell I did not care about such things. This really surprises me because I did really well in high school. If I weren't actually trying my hardest, think of how well I COULD have done.
Looking at my life right now, I know that if I tried to take on one more thing, I probably wouldn't be able to function correctly. I know my limits for what I can take on and still get accomplished. It seems like in high school, I didn't even try those limits. If I weren't so concerned about boys and what other people thought of me, I might have actually had more friends.
Four years later, I can tell I am very different from the person I was at Cedar Springs High School. My mentor thinks I have no confidence now, he should have seen me back then. I personally think that I have come a long way out of my shell. Boys aren't that important to me anymore because I know that it is my choice to have a boyfriend or not. It is not up to those silly boys and whether they like me. It is up to me what I want from life and what I will get out of life.
If I weren't so focused on other things, I might still be friends with more than two people from high school. I feel like I am that girl you run into from high school that you know, but you remember not really liking all that much.
There are some things that you must do but there are many more that you choose to do. I am not going to use the excuse that I am too busy anymore. I am going to make time to see everyone before I move out of the country. If I don't stop to smell the roses once in a while, I might only get pricked riding by.
Current Situations
I have realized lately that time is creepy by me. I haven't really been able to sit down and reflect on what I want and where I see myself going. Yesterday, I had a wonderful conversation with my professor/acedemic advisor Quincy. Quincy is sitting on the LEETA board with my mentor at my internship. Tedi and Quince chatted briefly about me. I was told that the things said weren't all that great. It was exchanged that I could be moody and have a negative outlook. Also that I have potential but I don't realize it because I am not confident enough. This has been stewing in my mind since yesterday and I have come to realize that these things are completely true. I have been so caught up in school, my 2 jobs, and my internship that I haven't had time to just vent to anyone. Therefore, my venting has been put on the shoulders of my internship mentors. I think in order to change this and become the person that I want to be and the positive person that I thought I always was, I am going to need to take time to myself. I am not superwomen and I do need help sometimes. It has been a long and winding road for me to realize this. I think it partly had to do with the conversation I have had with my Dad as well. We have become so much closer since we have been able to be honest with each other. I have been so stressed and focused on so many other things, that I have been coming off as indifferent and uncaring. I know this will never allow me to excel and be the leader I want to be. I am going to start thinking more about my goals and how to achieve them in the short time I have before my graduation. Only 2 more months to go!
Tomorrow
I mean tomorrow in the extremely inclusive sense, as in every day in the future. I really dread certain things happening. Like I didn't want IMs to start because I'd be playing out of company with some other group, and I'm not athletically confident anyway, playing with another team wouldn't help that. But I found out that pretty much all of E-1 Glee is playing Flickerball with E-3. Oh, its nice to have cliques of your own.
Also, Summer Training has been published to CiS. Right now I have Buckner (duh), but before that I have Air Assault. Holy shit. I'm intimidated. It'll be a great challenge, and one I have to start preparing for yesterday. I still wish I had Airborne, but I guess I should take this in be grateful. A lot of people wanted Air Assault and I got it, so for everyone's sake I should make the most of it.
Anyway, I survived my Math WPR and only have to get through an Arabic Quiz. Then Glee and Flipper Dinner and I have Thursday night. I don't know what I'm going to do this weekend. Probably try and redownload League of Legends, get a haircut, buy some more hygiene products (esp. dental).
this weekend will be the 6th weekend in a row Ive gone out all night and come home on the first train in the morning. Im not entirely sure how I feel about that.
I had a dream last night that I went to a bar with my friend Benedict. I paid 2000 yen at the door, got my wristband and two tickets, and entered. When I got in, a fat lady with a poorly shaped bob haircut and thick horn-rimmed glasses stops me and asks me for proof that I had paid. I show her my wristband but she says, `that proves nothing`. I pull out one of the two tickets I had and I get the same response, followed by the other only to yet again hear how useless it is. She starts chuckling and I say, `what do I have to do to prove to you that I paid?`. She grins and replies `Tim should have given you what you need.`
`Then Ill go find time`
`Tim wont give it to you now, Im sure`
She is laughing hysterically and Im getting incredibly frustrated at this point. I start cursing in Japanese, to which she responds with laughter.
`Its no use really` she says and continues laughing, her belly jiggling rythmycally.
Its then that I pull out a Colt .357, cock it, aim at her face, and pull the trigger. I hear nothing but see a flash of white, at which point I wake up in a cold sweat.
what does this mean?
For a reality update, Im still alive. Thats nice yeah?