focus...

My semester has not gone as planned.

Granted, never has a semester ever gone exactly as I imagined it would go (which has usually been for the best). All of the surprises I've had so far have been completely off my radar. 

Like the fact that I missed an application deadline for the graduate school that I wanted to go to the most -- and then, when I asked, the admissions office said it would be fine to submit one late. Definitely not expecting to miss such an important due date, and never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I'd be allowed to apply after said due date.

Or the fact that I'm once again in a complicated relationship friendship/strange state-of-being-with-another-person-who-you're-not-actually-with-relationship. And that's great. I actually really like the way things are right now (most of the time).

Or the fact that I'm that-person-who-is-stuck-with-an-apartment-contract. Still. After three months.

Or the fact that, hey! I'm having surgery this week! I all ready missed one week of school last week because I couldn't leave my house (I did get out of bed every morning and get dressed for school -- I never made it past the top of the stairs though, because my body wouldn't let me). After being dragged again to a doctor's office -- last month by a friend, this month by my parents -- the doctor and parents decided that surgery needs to happen and it needs to happen now.

Never mind the exams and papers I have to do. Because apparently those no longer matter. It's fine.

Or the fact that my coworkers are doing well enough at their jobs that I'm no longer needed so much. It's to the point where I'm going to learn how to properly process a collection, starting from the very beginning. I'm so excited. I've been so terrified that no one else would pick up on the job, because it truly is complicated and incredibly detailed. But they're getting it -- which means less stress for me.

My life (like everyone's) is a total mixed-bag. Lately I've been freaking out about everything: my grades and missing school, getting my homework done, this surgery, the pain in general, relationships, family stuff, money, you name it. I'm freaking out. At the same time, things aren't as bad as they could be. I'm really good at the game It Could Be Worse. I'm just hoping that things will be okay. I'm scared to death about surgery. And I'm scared to death about the aftermath (what if they don't find anything?!).

But, I can't control certain things. Like graduate school acceptance -- can't control that. So I'm trying not to worry about it. I'm trying to focus on the other things I can control. Like going to bed on time -- very important part of focus.

back to school...

This is a whiny post.

Basically I really, really, really, really, really do not want to go back to school. I don't want to go to class. I don't want to sit in those ridiculous little desks. I don't want to take notes. I don't want to do homework. I don't want to have my life controlled by assignments and busy work. I don't want the anxiety and the stress.

Man, I'm pathetic. I don't want to go so much that I'm crying.

Don't get me wrong, I like to learn. I enjoy discovering new things and expanding my view of the world. What I don't like is the absolute utter exhaustion and anxiety that comes from the way our education system works. I don't like being a grade point average -- I don't like having my future rest on some stupid letters that stand for how well I did at something.

I'll get it done. I always do. I guess this last semester has kind of killed any love for college that I may have possessed. And I'll tell you a little secret -- with the exception of Economics 110, I got straight A's. I knew I wouldn't do super well in Econ, and I only needed a C -- I got a B- and was excited because it was way better than I thought I would do. What bothered me is this: this was absolutely the worst semester of my life, and I felt that I slacked off completely. I didn't feel that I deserved any of the A's that I got -- and I almost feel angry that my lack of effort was given straight A grades.

My half effort was rewarded as excellent. I procrastinated every assignment because the depression was so intense that I could barely function. I skimmed reading assignments and left classes feeling more confused than I was when I went in. I studied like crazy for exams, but never felt confident. I felt that everything I did was pointless and pathetic, and I expected that to be reflected in my GPA.

So what does that make those A's, anyway? Somewhat worthless, if I'm honest. Maybe I'm being ungrateful (actually, I know I'm being ungrateful), but I really do feel like those grades are total lies.

I was mediocre. My papers were excellent, and my professors want me to publish. But the work I put in? It wasn't excellent. It was rushed, last-minute, pathetic.

That's why I don't want to go back to school. I don't want to do the work, especially because I know that even when I don't do as good a job as I should, I'll get outstanding grades anyway. It's like lying.

What I should do is put in more effort and be proactive in my education. I, however, would rather watch Chuck on Netflix, go take photographs of beautiful things, write poetry and articles on things I'm interested in, spend time with the people I care about, sing and dance and play, learn the piano again, read real books, sleep when I can and for as long as I need, and work at a job that actually does something worthwhile (like the one I have).

I suppose this is why there is a thing called retirement. Although...that may quickly become a myth.

drop dead...

That awkward moment when one second you're singing "Come Thou Fount" and the next you're staring up at dozens of concerned faces over your head.

Yeah. I passed out in choir today. I'm not really sure what happened. No, I didn't lock my knees -- I've been singing since I was four-years-old, so I'm well aware of that no-no. As a matter of fact, I actually sat down for a whole five minutes due to a sudden headache before I hit the floor. I made it through maybe the first line and a half of the first verse after standing up...not entirely sure when I lost consciousness.

Thankfully, Amber caught me on my way down (according to reports from bystanders). Between her, Jason the EMT, and Jamie the Lifeguard, I was in pretty capable hands (har-har). Dad did drag me to the doctor, which I resent a little bit, and as usual, it was determined that nothing is wrong with me.

I'm probably just super stressed. Not to mention the stress has been amplified because I lost a whole afternoon and evening of homework time, and my first 12-page paper is due on Thursday at 1:30. It's the history paper that my professor said will be graded according to a higher standard than my classmates because I'm brilliant.

Well. I hope she likes disappointment, because the best I can do is much less than I had anticipated. Which is frustrating. I hate, hate, hate doing mediocre work.

School should die. It sure is killing me.

where we're going...

I've had a lot to think about lately.

I'm definitely a planner. I plan my days almost to the minute, working out every detail as I get ready for bed and making sure I'll be where I need to be at least ten minutes in advance. I practice schedules until they're timed perfectly -- for example, my Wednesdays are planned for the rest of the semester. After this morning I know that washing one load of laundry takes exactly 27 minutes, meaning that if I wake up an hour and 15 minutes before I need to leave for school, I can get one load done while I get ready, put it in the dryer, and have a second in the washer before heading off to school. I won't be late for class, nor will I run out of time to do chores, homework, and make dinner (Wednesday is my dinner night and my laundry day -- I added my other chores so I can get them all done in one afternoon).

I think about this and wonder -- if I'm more than a planner; if I am, in fact, a control freak. To have days planned to the minute?

When I think about not having a plan, though...I get anxious. It's why I've been feeling so much anxiety about the coming year. It's no longer if I graduate next year... but WHEN I graduate next year... and all that entails. I don't even know if I'll be accepted to a college that starts in the fall -- most of them begin each January, which means 7 months of doing who knows what while I wait for school to start. Honestly, I don't even know which school I should try and get into -- I don't know what's right.

And what happens if I somehow end up married in the next year? Or if not -- keep dating, or suffer another heartbreak? I've always heard people say that you never marry the first person you date. Well...one called off engagement and two break-ups later, and we're still making everything work. In fact, it's better than it's ever been. Now people tell me that it's unlikely that we'll not get married. I can't help but wonder, though. I can't help but wonder if he'll stay. Or if I should stay. I know that I want to -- I don't want to be anywhere else. I just wonder if it's right.

What if, what if, what if. I know it doesn't help anything to wonder about things I can't control. It's hard not to wonder -- everything has gotten complicated and grown up in so little time. Peter Pan would be disappointed in me. Luckily for me, Peter Pan was never on my list of "People I will Emulate." No, I've always wanted to be like Clara Barton, or Louisa May Alcott, or George Washington. People who did things. Grown up things.

I wish someone had told my child self to slow down, to not be in such a hurry to grow up. But that begs the question, would I have listened?

No. No...I don't think I would.

the future is coming...

I'm staring down the barrel of my future, inserting the bullets that will soon shoot into the long thought of, always a dream and never a reality target called graduate school.

Seriously.

Friday afternoon I discovered that I can, if I desire, graduate in April. Being an intelligent person, I'm going to delay that date until August, because 18 credits plus a job will most likely kill me. However, one 3 credit hour class in the spring means that I will be done with my bachelor's degree in June of 2013 -- a year later than I would have liked to graduate because 8-year-old me set a goal to be done by age 20, but a year sooner than 21-year-old me ever imagined.

I've found three schools so far that match well -- they offer a Masters in Library and Information Science with Archival and Special Collections specializations, and each of them are either online or offer satellite programs near where I live. The dream would be to actually go somewhere for grad school, but practical me realizes it's not an option. There are far too many things keeping me here -- possibility of landing a job at the BYU library where I work now, money (always money), family things, Adam (yeah, he's a major stay factor), and money (again with the money). To top it off, one of the programs  has the option of specializing in Museum Studies, which few others have. I learned about that through one of my professor's, who is the director of a museum on campus.

Even better? None of these programs require test scores from the GRE. I'd hash tag my excitement level, but I'll spare you.

Now I'm beginning to understand the sentiments expressed by friends who have graduated.

This is crazy.

I'm 21. I'm going to graduate a year earlier than I thought possible, with a minor I just added last month. All of the sudden I'm forced to think about not just the classes I have to take this fall, but the applications for colleges and scholarships, student loans, finding a real job (though my job is pretty darn close), and applying for graduation. Me. Applying for graduation!

I'm growing up. And almost throwing up at the realization.

It's too terrifying to be exciting.

Also. Pray that I pass Economics 110 this semester. If I don't, my life will be on hold until I can at least get a C out of the devilish beast.

now leaving Mordor...

And when I leave the testing center and turn in all of my papers, I feel like this:

Yes. I do use Lord of the Rings to explain and understand my life.

Spring term 2013 -- good riddance. And now to take a week long nap.

breaking...

Really.

It's the only word I can use to describe the way my life appears right now.

Nothing is working out. No matter where I turn or what I attempt, things fall apart. Often it's not my fault.

Like the fact that the IRS doesn't recognize my social security/address combination, and so there is now an issue with my financial aid. It clearly states my address and social security number on my tax return -- figure it out, government. Oh, wait -- that's too much to ask, isn't it?

Like the fact that I suddenly went from registered for ECON 110 to being 106th on the wait list and I'm a SENIOR.

Like the fact that I have to take ECON 110 at all.

Like the fact that I'm completely alone at home this week because my room mate is out of town in Disneyland, on a vacation that I thought I was going on as well. I'm still not sure why he broke up with me. At least I didn't buy a plane ticket.

Like the fact that my presentation partner flaked out on me and I ended up doing almost all of the work. NEVER have I had such awful groups, EVER, like I have here at BYU. Seriously, I have never had a good group at this college. Of all places -- where we profess to be hardworking and honest and dependable. Guess it's one of those things that's easy to say, right?

Like the fact that my dad is getting sicker, and his company still makes him travel. HELLO. HE HAS CANCER. If you're reading this, dad's employer, I am NOT happy with you. Yeah. My dad's cancer is terminal. He's DYING. And you -- for the sake of the all-mighty dollar -- are making it worse.

Like the fact that my dad really is dying. How fast or how slow, I have no idea. Having that hanging over me all of the time is absolutely horrific.

Like the fact that my ex-fiance treats me like a girlfriend -- that, though, I have more control over. And let me tell you -- that will stop. So help me, it's going to stop.

Like the fact that no matter how well I eat, or how much I exercise, I'm still gaining weight.

Like the fact that no matter how often I pray, or count my blessings, or do nice things for other people, I cannot shake the anxiety and fear that threaten to envelop me every day.

Wow.

What a rant of negativity. Sorry about that -- I feel better though.

study puppies...also, this is post 1111...what.

Nelly, Thor, and Tasha -- keepin' me company

Kevin -- King of the Pillow Mountain

things I learned today...

1. My dryer only shuts off if it gets too hot. The rest of the time I have to pay careful attention to how long clothes have been in the dryer so that things don't shrink. That's why I noticed -- I put a load of towels in the dryer and a little while later the house was quiet. Yep. Dryer had gotten too hot and had shut itself off.
2. Most of the curators and non-student staff at work now treat me like I'm in charge of Workflows. The student employees like me know better, and none of us can figure out why the big wigs don't spread things around a little bit more. I mean, come on -- I haven't even been trained on the super specifics, yet I'm expected to know them.
3. When Kala gets hungry enough, she will not hesitate from waking you up from an unexpected nap by huffing and whining in your ear. And if that doesn't work, she'll full on whop you on the face with her paw. I guess she was really hungry, or I slept a lot longer than I thought I did.
4. It is possible for professors to assign homework that takes five to six hours a day, and have exams once to twice a week for an entire term.
5. I really, really like my job.
6. I CAN MAKE GOOD COOKIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Seriously. Never before have I been able to make a good batch of cookies by myself. But this time, they're turned out amazing. Which is why I am actually going to take them to the neighbors as I originally intended, rather than tossing my mess into the garbage bin. Because it's not a mess! It's cookies!
7. Chelsea's pillows are much more comfortable than mine.
8. I really need to get better sleep!

Spring fake...

BYU has an age old tradition of not giving its students a spring break. The reasons they give seem to make sense, such as "you get out of school a week earlier than everyone else" and "it only prolongs time until finals." But we all know the truth: it's because they want to keep us away from all of the other colleges who are out partying, where we might get into trouble.

True story.

Due to dire need of a reprieve from school, work, and regular life in general, my housemate and I put our feet down and told our men that a holiday was in order. Late Thursday night saw hotel plans and grocery lists set, and 12 hours later we four were in the car for a St. George vacation, our very own fake break.

Adam, Jeff, Chelsea, and me at Fiest Fun enjoying a game of mini golf

Never a dull moment with these two around.

You see what I mean?!

      

I love this man so much.

Shhh!

Oh! You caught us!

Yep. We're all adorable. Such fun!

waiting...

As some of you know, I haven't had the best health for the past two years or so. For a few months, I was improving, and I was excited to get back into "normal" life. However, things have taken a bit of a turn and are gradually worsening.

I admit that frustration and hopelessness start setting in at times. I haven't missed so much school since I was a sophomore in high school. I've never had this many sick days at work (thank heavens my supervisor is understanding and offers his help wherever he can). While I've always been aware of financial difficulties, I've never before felt so pinched. And I've never, ever felt so tired, never. Not only that, but my dad's getting worse as well -- though he won't admit it.

Is it ironic to anyone else that now, at possibly one of the hardest times in my life, I'm happier than I've ever been? Listing out the worries on my mind somehow brings a smile to my face. Yes, I'm physically uncomfortable most of the time, and I worry about losing my dad, but inside, I feel at peace. Every time I start worrying and the concerns press on my mind, I'm able to sit back and think about how good my life really is.

For example. Though I've missed a lot of school, I'm keeping up and am still getting good grades. My work supervisor is incredibly helpful. Money is a serious concern, but it keeps working out every time I really need something. I'm sleeping more frequently than I have in years. And dad is still here, and always happy to spend time with me.

After the third doctor's appointment this month, they finally decided that it's time to start looking for the problem, rather than treating the symptoms. I'll get the test results in a few days -- I'm hoping things will be okay. And they will be -- everything has been working out so far. I don't see why it won't continue to do so.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. For so many things -- although, the wait time for me and Adam continually shortens. So excited.

a little touch of Harry in the night...

Some of you may know that I tried out for a show at BYU in winter semester of 2012. I auditioned for Henry V, put on by BYU's Young Company. They do adaptations of plays for younger audiences and tour the elementary schools around the county.

In short, the auditions went very well for me and I made it to callbacks. Callbacks went well, too. However, I didn't get cast because when it came down to it, the other girl was a theater major and I am not. 

Talk about disappointment. My mom, who is the dramaturg for Henry V, tried to make me feel better by telling me that it was my major that kept me from being in the show and not my abilities, but it made me feel sadder. Time and again I have faced rejection in theater because I don't have the right connections at a particular place (like the Hale or the Scera) or I'm not in the right field of study. It was really hard for me to not get the part based on my academic background.

It's funny how things change though, because almost a year later, I have suddenly found myself thrown into the cast of Henry V. Due to unforeseen circumstances, someone had to drop out of the show and I just happened to have the time.

Say hello to the King of France, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the page boy. No, I don't have a multiple personality disorder -- I just get to be three (four, if you count my time as a guard/executioner) different characters in the same show.

Read more about it here.

Wish me luck!

ER, anyone?

At 10:00 tonight, I got a call from a friend informing me that another friend was in serious trouble.

So I called a different friend with a car, and we kindly forced the troubled friend into said car. And then drove to the emergency room. After which, we spent 30 minutes trying to get her out of the car and into the ER.

Finally, she agreed to come in. Very reluctantly. I pretty much pushed her across the parking lot.

At 1:00 this morning, Chelsea came and picked me up because the migraine I had this morning started coming back. And I have a 12 page paper to finish that is due at 8:00 this morning.

So. That's taken care of for now. Not the paper, but the friend in trouble.

Never taken a friend to the ER before.

Never pulled an all-nighter as a BYU student before, either (and school is out tomorrow...what?).

Never thought I'd like a Christmas song featuring C-Lee and the Muppets. NEVER.

Now to write 3 more pages. And maybe get some sleep. But after two 20 ounce bottles of Coke Zero, that might not be happening. We'll have to see.

heaven forbid...

Resolved, if I am ever a college teacher/professor (ugh), things will go like this:

I will not be vague about what my students need to know for exams.

I will hold them accountable for the work/reading assignments by having discussion-based lectures.

I will not return papers/exams without any comments.

I will expect students' work to be their best, taking into consideration that students are human, not super heroes.

I will not insult them or treat them like children.

I will have accessible office hours, respond to emails, and provide detailed syllabi that I stick to, not change at whim.

I will not lecture them the whole class period.

I will give homework that is actually worth doing (granted, worthwhile is an opinion thing), with no hint at the term busy-work.

I will not be the stuffed-shirt, eagle-eyed professor who goes by Doctor wherever she goes, choosing instead to connect with my students and others on a person-to-person basis, because I am not my degree (particularly on my children's wedding invitations -- seriously?).

I will encourage higher thinking and incorporate many types of presentations because students learn differently and will enjoy learning something they love in a style they understand.

I will not be the professors I had this semester (or most of them). I will guarantee that.

I will be warm and approachable, helpful, yet demanding because I know students can and will do a good job if they know what is expected of them. 

It'll be like teaching Primary, except the students will be bigger and I can wear pants. 

finals weekend...

I'm dying.

Not literally dying, but metaphorically dying. As in my brain cannot seem to function and my eyes want to stay shut forever.

How is it possible for me to have so much to do, yet be so bored?

Honestly, I do not know how I'm going to retain all of this information. All of it is familiar because I discussed it (or listened to my professor drone for an hour every other day) in classes three times a week, but really. I don't know how I'll write good, solid mini essays on events/people/books when I am required to prepare for 41, but only need to know 10. So much information.

Not to mention that same professor, who I have two classes with, told my entire American Studies class that we are "terrible writers" and that "some of your essays are so bad that I just read through the first paragraph and wrote 'I quit' on the top, then gave you a C. If you'd spent time on your essays, and actually attempted to do a good job, I might have read all of it. But really -- it's not like you're freshmen. Really, just awful. Awful."

If I didn't need a good grade, I would write, "I read the first question and it was so bad that I realized I can't take this exam because I don't have enough time to actually attempt to do a good job. I quit."

Temptation. Plagues me to no end.

i haven't been this tired since...

Yesterday.

Good grief.

You know, there are a lot things I can get used to. I can (and have) gotten used to headaches. I manage them -- even when my head really hurts, I push it aside as much as I can. I'm pretty used to nausea and dizziness at this point, too. I can manage it. I deal. No worries.

But man. I don't know if I'll ever get used to being tired. You'd think that overcoming that would be the easiest. No way, Jose. I keep going because I have to, but my mind is so foggy and everything takes longer than it should.

Can't think.

It's just been a struggle this week. A good week, because a lot of good things have happened at school and work. But a struggle, too. My whole body drags, and my mind isn't far behind. Sometimes, I have to sleep, instead of getting things done.

Crazy how exhausting school is.

don't want, can't have...

I don't want to write any more papers (especially dumb ones that are just busy work).
I don't want to read any more textbooks.
I don't want to get up early anymore.
I don't want to tutor papers anymore.
I don't want to go to school anymore.

I want to write poetry.
I want to read real books.
I want to get up when my body is done sleeping.
I want to not tutor.
I want to learn -- really learn.

And I really want to have time to paint my nails.

That would be grand.

should have been an English major...

Remember that 12 page paper?

Done.

In 4 hours.

WIN.

And I actually feel that it's pretty decent for the most part. There are a couple of places that need some polishing, but seeing as the final product isn't due until December 13th (a complete draft is needed for full credit during the in class work shopping), I have some time to spruce it up (like a Christmas tree -- yep, it's almost midnight).

Now to take it to school tomorrow and have it peer reviewed. Which means that after I get the 100% grade for bringing it in and having another student look at it, I will promptly disregard all of his/her remarks and take it to the Writing Center for a coworker to look at instead.

Anthropology students struggle at peer reviews. Just saying.

oops...

I have a 12 page paper to write. 

By tomorrow at 4 p.m.

...

Yeeeeeah, I got nothing done over the break. 

Ready...GO.

you know those times when...

...you sit at your computer for hours with the intention of starting a paper/essay/research project, but you end up staring at the screen because you can't seem to get started?
...you lay in bed for hours with the blankets over your head while you cry because no matter how tired you are, you can't fall asleep?
...you park yourself on the couch and enter the woman's version of the "nothing box," which is when you're thinking about so many things that it becomes absolutely unintelligible, the thoughts so disconnected it's as though they're not even happening?
...you look at your bank statement and feel utter shock course through you as you see how little money you have left, and can't seem to remember what you spent it all on?
...you wish you could talk to someone, but every time you try, no one listens because they start talking about how hard their own lives are or lecturing you on what you should do, should have done, or aren't doing enough of?
...you look at your calendar and want to stow away on a plane to Australia, where no one can find you and make you face your responsibilities?
...you wonder if there's any point to anything that you're doing anymore?

Pretty sure most people have those times. We'll get through them -- one day at a time. Just keep trying.