Mood: tiiiiired
Happy thought: Fridays
I've pretty much exhausted myself with being all emotional lately. But I think I need to just shut up and focus because it's not even over yet. I can cry in 9 days. For now it's time to get down to business and make sure I get to cross that stage.
One last push.
I need a six-pack of Coke, ibuprofen, and killer Pandora recommendations STAT. If you could find a little motivation, that'd be good, too.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
10 days and counting
Mood: a mess... still? or again? hard to say
Happy thought: REALLY good cupcakes
Well, today was it. It was my absolute last day of class. Probably ever. Or, at the very least, for a really, really, really long time.
I walked out of my very last class and someone said something to the effect of "yay! It's summer!!" and I just wanted to punch that kid in the face.
Sure, classes are over, but that doesn't mean I don't have a crapload of stuff to get done yet. The end of classes is always a bit misleading that way. Classes are done, but now you have God knows how much work to do.
For example, I have a project, a capstone, and a 15-page paper due. So now is not the time to rest.
But the end of classes was still significant. And, oddly, my last class ever at Drake was with the very same professor who taught my first class ever at Drake. We've had five classes together in four years. That has to be some sort of record.
That's a lot of classes. That's like taking one semester with ONLY him. Think about it.
Because I practically followed this guy around for four years, I took it upon myself to give him a hard time about pretty much everything. My favorites, though, had to be pestering him to have class outside and being disgusted by his hatred of the new Star Trek movie.
Alas, he'll no longer have me to fill that role, and I'm sure he's pretty upset about it. We decided, though, I'll have to come back to visit in the fall, sit in on his freshman class and hand-pick my successor.
So I walked out of my last class ever with a professor that has been a staple in my Drake experience and, once again, had to dart to my car before I started crying freely in public.
Ten days and counting... and I'm still a mess.
Happy thought: REALLY good cupcakes
Well, today was it. It was my absolute last day of class. Probably ever. Or, at the very least, for a really, really, really long time.
I walked out of my very last class and someone said something to the effect of "yay! It's summer!!" and I just wanted to punch that kid in the face.
Sure, classes are over, but that doesn't mean I don't have a crapload of stuff to get done yet. The end of classes is always a bit misleading that way. Classes are done, but now you have God knows how much work to do.
For example, I have a project, a capstone, and a 15-page paper due. So now is not the time to rest.
But the end of classes was still significant. And, oddly, my last class ever at Drake was with the very same professor who taught my first class ever at Drake. We've had five classes together in four years. That has to be some sort of record.
That's a lot of classes. That's like taking one semester with ONLY him. Think about it.
Because I practically followed this guy around for four years, I took it upon myself to give him a hard time about pretty much everything. My favorites, though, had to be pestering him to have class outside and being disgusted by his hatred of the new Star Trek movie.
Alas, he'll no longer have me to fill that role, and I'm sure he's pretty upset about it. We decided, though, I'll have to come back to visit in the fall, sit in on his freshman class and hand-pick my successor.
So I walked out of my last class ever with a professor that has been a staple in my Drake experience and, once again, had to dart to my car before I started crying freely in public.
Ten days and counting... and I'm still a mess.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
11 days and counting
Mood: emotional :/
Happy thought: baby birdies
For my English capstone course, we each have to complete some sort of final writing project. It's pretty open-ended. People are writing academic papers (God bless them... because, seriously... I couldn't do it). Some are doing fiction and poetry and just all sorts of stuff.
Mine is this, essentially. I'm doing my 100-day journal/chronicle of the last 100 days of school. I'm doing an online version here on the blog and then a different (though occasionally overlapping) version just for class purposes.
The idea of doing this project apparently shook the whole world for a classmate of mine, who never fails to tell me at least once a week in class how badly I scared him when I announced to the whole class that day in early February that we had only 100 days (calendar days, not even school days) left of our Drake experience. Scared HIM? I'm the one DOING this project. I'm the one TACKLING this beast. Talk about scary.
Anyway...
Today we did our capstone presentations, which was essentially just a reading of our work. We didn't have to read if we didn't want to, but I was feeling up to the challenge.
I was much more nervous than I thought I would be. After 76 years or so of writing all sorts of papers and stories and what have you, I've grown quite used to the idea of people reading, editing, and commenting on my work, then being confronted with the whole class as they discuss what I've written.
The rules of each peer workshop changes from class to class and professor to professor. Last semester I wasn't allowed to talk or respond to the criticism as my work was being reviewed. I had to sit there and take notes and just listen as they talked about me like I wasn't in the room.
"Real authors can't respond to the stuff we say about their work," said the professor.
That's valid. But that didn't make it less terrifying.
The point is, having people read my stuff on their own is very different than reading it TO them. On one hand, it's a good thing. I can rely on things like inflection and body language and facial expression to convey whatever it is I'm saying, and worry less about what's getting lost in translation.
On the other hand, whatever separation there once was between writer and text, between the author and their product, is completely obliterated. I kind of love the idea that I'm not necessarily what I write or, really, who I write. I love the idea that I exist independently of my own words. But, when you read out loud... that barrier vanishes.
Not that I didn't enjoy it. I made a girl laugh so hard she seriously began to cry. And hearing the project out loud helped me identify parts I'd like to go back and change or fix. So the experience was a good one, but odd and terrifying, too.
Then, of course, in class it kind of just hit me that it was our final meeting and that was pretty emotional. The professor was getting all choked up, so I was getting choked up and she said something like "This is me not saying goodbye..." and that pretty much just did me in.
I've been in classes with her since freshman year and I was not at all warming to the idea of the end.
After we did the reading, I hung around as long as I possibly could before walking quickly away and retreating to the fortress of my car (because nobody can see me in there.... riiiight...) so I could open the flood gates.
11 days and counting and I'm going to be a total mess for allllll 11 of them.
Happy thought: baby birdies
For my English capstone course, we each have to complete some sort of final writing project. It's pretty open-ended. People are writing academic papers (God bless them... because, seriously... I couldn't do it). Some are doing fiction and poetry and just all sorts of stuff.
Mine is this, essentially. I'm doing my 100-day journal/chronicle of the last 100 days of school. I'm doing an online version here on the blog and then a different (though occasionally overlapping) version just for class purposes.
The idea of doing this project apparently shook the whole world for a classmate of mine, who never fails to tell me at least once a week in class how badly I scared him when I announced to the whole class that day in early February that we had only 100 days (calendar days, not even school days) left of our Drake experience. Scared HIM? I'm the one DOING this project. I'm the one TACKLING this beast. Talk about scary.
Anyway...
Today we did our capstone presentations, which was essentially just a reading of our work. We didn't have to read if we didn't want to, but I was feeling up to the challenge.
I was much more nervous than I thought I would be. After 76 years or so of writing all sorts of papers and stories and what have you, I've grown quite used to the idea of people reading, editing, and commenting on my work, then being confronted with the whole class as they discuss what I've written.
The rules of each peer workshop changes from class to class and professor to professor. Last semester I wasn't allowed to talk or respond to the criticism as my work was being reviewed. I had to sit there and take notes and just listen as they talked about me like I wasn't in the room.
"Real authors can't respond to the stuff we say about their work," said the professor.
That's valid. But that didn't make it less terrifying.
The point is, having people read my stuff on their own is very different than reading it TO them. On one hand, it's a good thing. I can rely on things like inflection and body language and facial expression to convey whatever it is I'm saying, and worry less about what's getting lost in translation.
On the other hand, whatever separation there once was between writer and text, between the author and their product, is completely obliterated. I kind of love the idea that I'm not necessarily what I write or, really, who I write. I love the idea that I exist independently of my own words. But, when you read out loud... that barrier vanishes.
Not that I didn't enjoy it. I made a girl laugh so hard she seriously began to cry. And hearing the project out loud helped me identify parts I'd like to go back and change or fix. So the experience was a good one, but odd and terrifying, too.
Then, of course, in class it kind of just hit me that it was our final meeting and that was pretty emotional. The professor was getting all choked up, so I was getting choked up and she said something like "This is me not saying goodbye..." and that pretty much just did me in.
I've been in classes with her since freshman year and I was not at all warming to the idea of the end.
After we did the reading, I hung around as long as I possibly could before walking quickly away and retreating to the fortress of my car (because nobody can see me in there.... riiiight...) so I could open the flood gates.
11 days and counting and I'm going to be a total mess for allllll 11 of them.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
12 days and counting
Mood: ... yikes ...
Happy thought: having hard stuff be over and done with
I had to give a panel presentation today, which I had never done before. In one of my classes we each have to write a final paper about the books we've read over the semester. Based on our topics, we were broken into groups so that one group of people were working with one general topic or theme, if that makes sense.
Then we had to give a "panel presentation" to the class, which essentially just required each of us to talk for five minutes about what our individual papers were about.
So... in theory, that doesn't sound all that scary. But, for some reason, when it came time for me to talk, I looked down at my paper and like couldn't read the words. I just opened my mouth and hoped that what came out 1) made sense and 2) seemed smart-sounding.
I don't know if I talked for five minutes... or longer than five minutes... or shorter than five minutes... I have no idea. Overall, I think it was fine, but still... it was a very weird experience. I almost always talk in class, I don't have a problem getting in front of people really, and yet today I was all over the stage fright?
So weird...
Happy thought: having hard stuff be over and done with
I had to give a panel presentation today, which I had never done before. In one of my classes we each have to write a final paper about the books we've read over the semester. Based on our topics, we were broken into groups so that one group of people were working with one general topic or theme, if that makes sense.
Then we had to give a "panel presentation" to the class, which essentially just required each of us to talk for five minutes about what our individual papers were about.
So... in theory, that doesn't sound all that scary. But, for some reason, when it came time for me to talk, I looked down at my paper and like couldn't read the words. I just opened my mouth and hoped that what came out 1) made sense and 2) seemed smart-sounding.
I don't know if I talked for five minutes... or longer than five minutes... or shorter than five minutes... I have no idea. Overall, I think it was fine, but still... it was a very weird experience. I almost always talk in class, I don't have a problem getting in front of people really, and yet today I was all over the stage fright?
So weird...
Monday, May 3, 2010
13 days and counting
Mood: HAPPY :) :) :)
Happy thought: new apartments!
Roommate and I went to revisit a couple of apartments we saw last week. This time we brought her fiance, since he'll also be living with us.
After a couple of hours we picked a place and we signed a lease and took posession of our new, WONDERFUL, single-story townhouse with a YARD and a DECK.
AND, you know what else it has? A WASHER AND DRYER IN-UNIT!
Bliss.
Happy thought: new apartments!
Roommate and I went to revisit a couple of apartments we saw last week. This time we brought her fiance, since he'll also be living with us.
After a couple of hours we picked a place and we signed a lease and took posession of our new, WONDERFUL, single-story townhouse with a YARD and a DECK.
AND, you know what else it has? A WASHER AND DRYER IN-UNIT!
Bliss.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
14 days and counting
Mood: sad and relieved
Happy thought: endings and beginnings
Today was my last meeting for Alpha Phi Omega, the campus service fraternity I've been involved with for four years.
I wasn't as active with the fraternity as I had been in the past, partly because it's my last semester and I have quite a few other thinsg on my plate, and also because I wanted to let the new leadership emerge and not be such a visible presence in the chapter anymore.
That sounds horrible conceited, but... that's the best I could do.
Anyway, I'm partly relieved to be done with it because, as with any group of people anywhere in the world, we had our fair share of drama, which tended to fluctuate between "petty" and "ridiculous." Sometimes it just sucks you in and you wake up one day and think "Why on EARTH does this matter?"
So, in that sense, I'm glad to be out now.
Then again, I put everything into APO during the last four years. I wasn't always terribly hardcore about school, but I was always hardcore about APO. Always.
And now it's time to let it go.
Luckily, the job I landed for post-graduation is with the national office of APO, so it's not exactly good-bye. Quite the opposite actually. So I think it's a good compromise.
Happy thought: endings and beginnings
Today was my last meeting for Alpha Phi Omega, the campus service fraternity I've been involved with for four years.
I wasn't as active with the fraternity as I had been in the past, partly because it's my last semester and I have quite a few other thinsg on my plate, and also because I wanted to let the new leadership emerge and not be such a visible presence in the chapter anymore.
That sounds horrible conceited, but... that's the best I could do.
Anyway, I'm partly relieved to be done with it because, as with any group of people anywhere in the world, we had our fair share of drama, which tended to fluctuate between "petty" and "ridiculous." Sometimes it just sucks you in and you wake up one day and think "Why on EARTH does this matter?"
So, in that sense, I'm glad to be out now.
Then again, I put everything into APO during the last four years. I wasn't always terribly hardcore about school, but I was always hardcore about APO. Always.
And now it's time to let it go.
Luckily, the job I landed for post-graduation is with the national office of APO, so it's not exactly good-bye. Quite the opposite actually. So I think it's a good compromise.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
15 days and counting
Mood: eeeep!
Happy thought: food!!!
My roommate and I decided a while ago that before we graduate we wanted to eat brunch at Hubbell one last time.
The Hubbell dining hall on campus gets kind of a bad reputation, which I find mostly exaggerated - for the record, but when they do brunch on the weekends, nobody is complaining.
It's just full of all sorts of tasty food like omelets, pizza, yogurt, Belgian waffles, fruit, pancakes, eggs... you name it, it's all there.
Anyawy, since we live off campus now, we no longer have a meal plan and, therefore, no longer eat on campus. We could pay real money to eat at the dining hall, but we choose not to.
But we realized that we could say good-bye to Drake wtihout one last brunch, so we went out, paid real money, and gave Hubbell a proper farewell.
Afterward we went to the bookstore so I could get my graduation tassels.
It just gets a little more real every day...
Happy thought: food!!!
My roommate and I decided a while ago that before we graduate we wanted to eat brunch at Hubbell one last time.
The Hubbell dining hall on campus gets kind of a bad reputation, which I find mostly exaggerated - for the record, but when they do brunch on the weekends, nobody is complaining.
It's just full of all sorts of tasty food like omelets, pizza, yogurt, Belgian waffles, fruit, pancakes, eggs... you name it, it's all there.
Anyawy, since we live off campus now, we no longer have a meal plan and, therefore, no longer eat on campus. We could pay real money to eat at the dining hall, but we choose not to.
But we realized that we could say good-bye to Drake wtihout one last brunch, so we went out, paid real money, and gave Hubbell a proper farewell.
Afterward we went to the bookstore so I could get my graduation tassels.
It just gets a little more real every day...
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