Life as an Extreme Sport

Drop Desire

Autumn 05

I woke up this morning with the profound urge to drop the class I’ve yet to really mention this quarter, my medical history course. It’s not that it’s a bad class, it’s that I’ve not been the last two sessions, I’m not terribly fascinated by the material, and I’ve been running myself a bit ragged trying to keep up with everything.

First step – open MyUW and see what my degree audit says. Crap. If I drop the class, I’m one fucking credit shy of the minor (including the class I’m planning on taking next quarter), and they are not a flexible department. Problem the second – Lab Medicines has placed a hold on my transcript. The hell? Great, insurance screwed up again and it’s going to cost me money to get it fixed in time for registration.

Are we certain today isn’t a Monday? It’s really feeling like a Monday…

Morning

Autumn 05, CHID 390 - PF, The Revenge!, CHID 491

Up early today. I fell asleep before 9pm last night, just physically drained and exhausted. The 390 focus group went much better last night, using pop culture “props” to drive conversation. I’m strongly resisting the urge to make lesson plans and powerpoints, because I don’t want to (nor should I) be the teacher for that class. But, having things to make conversation go is nice. Bride and Prejudice is a wonderfully over-the-top way to illustrate Orientalism, too.

But, true to form, I crashed off the feeling good by the time I was halfway home. I hadn’t eaten lunch, so stopped to get dinner, and it was just downhill from there. I knocked together the very barest annotated bibliography, (which I will hopefully be able to flesh out some before class today. I also need to print copies of the papers for today’s thesis class, as well as reread an article for 390. …see, there was a reason I set the alarm for 4, even if I didn’t actually get out of bed until 5am), and then crawled into bed with a book, read for about 10 minutes, closed my eyes and gave up the fight.

But I like being up at this time of day, even if it’s so difficult for me to actually get out of bed in that initial instant. There’s something ever so serene and peaceful about the world, as it’s just me and a few other souls moving. I have just a few lights on, and (freshly showered and dressed) am sitting in the middle of my ever so comfortable new bed, listening to variations of Om Mani Padme Hum being sung over the stereo. The repetitive chanting, the peace and quiet of morning, the slight tinge of saltwater on the breeze – if only I could capture this feeling and always carry it with me. Right now, the world is busy and crowded and chaotic, but in a good way; it’s a way that energizes me and keeps me moving. I have the faith in myself that it will all be done and done well… if only that hung around with me until the end of the day!

Boots

...and everything else, life and living

It’s odd, memory triggers. I was sifting through LJ, looking at friends posts, when a picture of Diamanda Galas brought back a flood of memories. All for the glint of metal, the toe-guard on a pair of boots.

The abusive ex bought me cowboy boots one year. The year I’d been wanting boots to replace my black, soft leather, pirate/elf-style boots. The ones I’d worn into the ground, and have in some way or another been looking for ever since. He didn’t want me to have that style of boot, though – he thought I should wear cowboy boots. So he bought me very expensive, soft black leather cowboy boots, embroidered from top to bottom in black stitches.

I hated them. But I wasn’t allowed to have that sort of opinion then. It would have been good for a confrontation, for yelling, threats. So instead I tried them on (they fit), and mouthed how nice they were… and that I wouldn’t want to scuff them up, they were so nice. So I needed to get some silver toe-guards for them. And because things were the way they were, with me not having money of my own, the toe-guards were never bought and never put on. But off and on for the next few years, he would drag out why I wasn’t wearing the boots I must not love him because I wasn’t wearing them, and I would point out that I’d happily wear them as soon as we could afford custom work to have toe-guards installed, and that particular game would stay stalled in neutral.

I left the boots behind when I left. To this day, I look for soft leather pirate boots, and walk immediately by the cowboys.

Tarot

The Great Grad Hunt

I had a very interesting tarot reading done last night. For a few reasons, I didn’t want to ask any specific questions of the cards, but instead picked a tact started long ago – just let the cards tell me what they want, and go from there (typically I would then ask more specific questions, but for said few reasons this wasn’t possible last night). The funny thing was, had I opted to ask about anything, I would have asked about academia, and that’s all the cards talked about. Passions for teaching, pride in intellect, strength and survival. It was the future-path card that was most interesting, though – it warned of academic selling out for money.

And it made perfect sense. I’ve been thinking a lot about graduate school lately, what with needing to take the GREs and start my applications and Phillip and I talking a lot about where I should go, and trying to figure out myself what exactly I want to study. Something I’ve been using as a mental barometer, in perhaps not the most serious manner, is that I’ll go wherever pays me.

I honestly feel like one of two things will happen for graduate school. I will either get in to lots of places, or nowhere. I tend to assume the later, while more deeply believing the former. And money – aid packages – does become a consideration. In that considering, I need to keep in mind the fit of the program, educators and education, and not just funding and prestige of school (which would be another form of selling out).

It’s a good thing to keep in the front of my mind as I go into this whole process.