1. Put off paper. (check)
2. Write paper.
3. Get sleep. Must stop doing (1) and finish (2) to achieve.
4. Study for final. Must first stop (1), finish (2), and squeeze in (3).
5. Plan vacation to the motherland. Effective way of achieving (1). But instead, I blog.
6. Find new job. Must do (1)-(4) first.
7. Write Career Development Plan by Friday. Or else get locked out of Career Center. Effectively making (6) very hard to do.
8. STOP blogging. Delays (3) even further.
9. Learn how to effectively time manage. But I, judging from (1)-(8), don't have time to learn how to effectively time manage. And therein, my friends, lies my problem...
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Family.
This was my first Thanksgiving without my family. I rationalized with myself that somehow the best possible plan for me this year was to stay in DC for the holiday. Reasons for said decision: I had a paper to write, holiday travel is always so hectic- not to mention expensive- and it was only Thanksgiving after all. My family and I- being so small and often dysfunctional- have never been big on holidays. I thought we had very few traditions. Nothing that quite matches my friends family tradition of making (and eating) a birthday cake for Jesus at Christmas. My family has nothing like that.
Or so I thought. I realized this year, that my family has its own traditions. Though they lack the creativity or fanfare of birthday cake, we also did things I now realize I honestly miss. It wasn't until one of my friends pulled out the whipped cream that I remembered my dad- every year on Thanksgiving he would tip our heads back, make us open wide, and fill our mouths with whipped cream. He always 'accidentally' poured too much in and we'd end up with whipped cream all over our faces and in our hair (which btw, leaves a very, very rank smell). Or, though I always fuss and fight with her, my sister is one of those crazy American's obsessed with Black Friday sales and drags me out every year at some ungodly hour to join her on her quest to refresh my nephews wardrobe. Every year she proudly holds up her receipts and boldly announces that she bought 10 new ____ (fill in the blanks) for only ____!! What a steal.
I never want to go with her. Ever. But this year, when she called me at nine am (six am her time) to share with me how lucky she'd been that day, I really missed my family. Well, in all honesty, my first thought was 'is she nuts for calling me so early??', but once I recovered from that, I thought how much I miss her.
No one can replace my small and often dysfunctional and eccentric family. But this year, my first year away from them, it was that much easier to know I had two of my best girlfriends with me. Though they are also eccentric and as I like to say- 'special'- they are also my family.
So this year, to end my Thanksgiving weekend (and admittedly to put off writing my paper some more), I want to thank my family. My sister for insisting on checking up on me. Daily. Sometimes twice daily. Sometimes more. I'm not kidding either. (I love you sissy!) She is also one of few people privy to my ridiculous levels of cheesiness, who sings to me songs from "Annie" when I'm depressed ("the sun will come out... tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow..."). And my girlfriends. Who listen to me talk about my bf at least once an hour. Who understand why I gave it up for so long, why I wear heels all the time, and who put up with the fact that I won't eat fish, Japanese, peanut or coconut based curries or really anything that isn't Mexican, Thai, or Indian.
I have a lot to be thankful for this year... my masters, my crazy bf, my luxury suite of a bedroom... but I would have none of that if it wasn't for my family supporting me through all of it. I know I've said it before, but I really am a lucky girl. And yes, this is cheesy. But we've already established that that's just the way I am. :)
Or so I thought. I realized this year, that my family has its own traditions. Though they lack the creativity or fanfare of birthday cake, we also did things I now realize I honestly miss. It wasn't until one of my friends pulled out the whipped cream that I remembered my dad- every year on Thanksgiving he would tip our heads back, make us open wide, and fill our mouths with whipped cream. He always 'accidentally' poured too much in and we'd end up with whipped cream all over our faces and in our hair (which btw, leaves a very, very rank smell). Or, though I always fuss and fight with her, my sister is one of those crazy American's obsessed with Black Friday sales and drags me out every year at some ungodly hour to join her on her quest to refresh my nephews wardrobe. Every year she proudly holds up her receipts and boldly announces that she bought 10 new ____ (fill in the blanks) for only ____!! What a steal.
I never want to go with her. Ever. But this year, when she called me at nine am (six am her time) to share with me how lucky she'd been that day, I really missed my family. Well, in all honesty, my first thought was 'is she nuts for calling me so early??', but once I recovered from that, I thought how much I miss her.
No one can replace my small and often dysfunctional and eccentric family. But this year, my first year away from them, it was that much easier to know I had two of my best girlfriends with me. Though they are also eccentric and as I like to say- 'special'- they are also my family.
So this year, to end my Thanksgiving weekend (and admittedly to put off writing my paper some more), I want to thank my family. My sister for insisting on checking up on me. Daily. Sometimes twice daily. Sometimes more. I'm not kidding either. (I love you sissy!) She is also one of few people privy to my ridiculous levels of cheesiness, who sings to me songs from "Annie" when I'm depressed ("the sun will come out... tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow..."). And my girlfriends. Who listen to me talk about my bf at least once an hour. Who understand why I gave it up for so long, why I wear heels all the time, and who put up with the fact that I won't eat fish, Japanese, peanut or coconut based curries or really anything that isn't Mexican, Thai, or Indian.
I have a lot to be thankful for this year... my masters, my crazy bf, my luxury suite of a bedroom... but I would have none of that if it wasn't for my family supporting me through all of it. I know I've said it before, but I really am a lucky girl. And yes, this is cheesy. But we've already established that that's just the way I am. :)
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Rejected.
Yesterday I saw a little old blind woman trying to cross the street. She took a precarious step forward. And then another. And another. All the while feeling the street with her walking stick. I callously walked right past her, not even thinking twice about the elderly woman hoping to get across the street before the light said go.
And then, showing that chivalry isn't dead- an older gentlemen, thick with age, gray from life- offers to help her across the street. It was a scene for a Leave it to Beaver episode. Until she brutally rejected him, shook him off his arm, and yelled "get the hell away from me." Perhaps chivalry isn't dead, but I wonder about niceties...
And then, showing that chivalry isn't dead- an older gentlemen, thick with age, gray from life- offers to help her across the street. It was a scene for a Leave it to Beaver episode. Until she brutally rejected him, shook him off his arm, and yelled "get the hell away from me." Perhaps chivalry isn't dead, but I wonder about niceties...
Monday, November 12, 2007
Veterans Day
I've never really stopped to think about Veterans Day all that much. It was always a day that I associated with no school or my sorority's founder's day celebration- which usually tends to coincide with Veteran's Day.
But this year I headed for a tour of the monuments with a few of the boys that were in town. Two of Ryan's friends had never been to the monuments before and so we started with the FDR memorial and worked our way through all the big ones.
It was my first time at the Vietnam memorial and you could tell that the pain of the war hadn't left. The wall was lined with messages of love, hope, and reminiscings. Pictures of lost fathers or missing sons were never ending.
And then I saw the man. He was older- his hair had lost it's color, his cheeks had sunk in a little bit- but you could tell the man was full of energy. He was trying to lift the name of someone from the wall onto the paper he had but couldn't figure out how to do it. So bundled up in his red and black Veteran's jacket, he asked a gentleman for help and he succeeded in inscribing the name for him. The old gentleman thanks him and says that was my best bud. Yup. My best bud. I just wanted to come down and give him a good poke, and he waves his first through the air and gets a sad smile. I just wish he were here so I can give the poke myself.
I'd never stopped to think about what Veteran's Day really meant, but when I heard the man say that, my eyes watered and I finally learned to appreciate the significance of this day. So today, on Veteran's Day, I'd like to say thank you to all the families out there- who gave up their sons, their fathers, their grandfathers- and especially all those who still remember and honor the fallen soldiers.
But this year I headed for a tour of the monuments with a few of the boys that were in town. Two of Ryan's friends had never been to the monuments before and so we started with the FDR memorial and worked our way through all the big ones.
It was my first time at the Vietnam memorial and you could tell that the pain of the war hadn't left. The wall was lined with messages of love, hope, and reminiscings. Pictures of lost fathers or missing sons were never ending.
And then I saw the man. He was older- his hair had lost it's color, his cheeks had sunk in a little bit- but you could tell the man was full of energy. He was trying to lift the name of someone from the wall onto the paper he had but couldn't figure out how to do it. So bundled up in his red and black Veteran's jacket, he asked a gentleman for help and he succeeded in inscribing the name for him. The old gentleman thanks him and says that was my best bud. Yup. My best bud. I just wanted to come down and give him a good poke, and he waves his first through the air and gets a sad smile. I just wish he were here so I can give the poke myself.
I'd never stopped to think about what Veteran's Day really meant, but when I heard the man say that, my eyes watered and I finally learned to appreciate the significance of this day. So today, on Veteran's Day, I'd like to say thank you to all the families out there- who gave up their sons, their fathers, their grandfathers- and especially all those who still remember and honor the fallen soldiers.
Friday, November 2, 2007
This is Graduate School.
I'm come to the conclusion that some people don't realize what grad school is about. Or that it's time to at least pretend to be grown up even if you're not really there yet.
To illustrate my point, I'll tell you about my one class. To protect the anonymity of my classmates, I'll change all their names and identifying marks- though come to think about it, I don't even know HER name.
We have a class taught by two professors who alternate turns. We understand they're busy women- they both work for an awesome ngo based in DC- and that the subject matter at hand is difficult to teach (it's an application course, not theory). All of this combined somehow seems to fuel the fury of unnamed girl in my class. We'll call her Ms. Complainer- Ms. C. for short. Every week, she has some snide remark or rude question for the professors, all in this unbelievably disrespectful tone. This week, she managed to say something that didn't sound like that at all. I turned to my classmate and said to her, wow, she's making progress. And then the end of class comes. And there she goes. Her general complains are you didn't explain that thoroughly and where am I supposed to find that?
Let me explain this to you- and the ppl in my poly sci class- and while we're at it- my econ class. This, Ms. C., is graduate school. The professor already went out of her way to post the assignment, explain it, put a sample completed assignment online, and then give us a power point presentation on pointers on things we should be careful of later. What more could you possibly want? To the people in my econ class that wanted to change the midterm because they couldn't make it- this is graduate school. If the professor says your midterm is next week on Tuesday, during class time, you show up next Tuesday, during class time. Don't try to inconvenience me because you have another exam that day. This is grad school. Suck it up. How did you ever make it through undergrad? And poly sci people- the professor sucks, you say? Have you never had a professor that you didn't like? That's awesome, if so. What undergrad did you go to? So I can avoid sending my kids there. I'd hate for them to turn out as whiny as you did. Was it really necessary to spend an hour talking about the finer points of why you didn't like a professor that already quit?
Just wait til you're in the real world and your boss is a moron and there's nothing you can do about it. Or your boss says do this by four and you have no idea what she's talking about but you said, sure, no problem and somehow get it done by four. Three if you're awesome. This, fellow classmates, is graduate school. As John Mayer's song goes, Welcome to the real world. And yes, I did say that condescendingly.
To illustrate my point, I'll tell you about my one class. To protect the anonymity of my classmates, I'll change all their names and identifying marks- though come to think about it, I don't even know HER name.
We have a class taught by two professors who alternate turns. We understand they're busy women- they both work for an awesome ngo based in DC- and that the subject matter at hand is difficult to teach (it's an application course, not theory). All of this combined somehow seems to fuel the fury of unnamed girl in my class. We'll call her Ms. Complainer- Ms. C. for short. Every week, she has some snide remark or rude question for the professors, all in this unbelievably disrespectful tone. This week, she managed to say something that didn't sound like that at all. I turned to my classmate and said to her, wow, she's making progress. And then the end of class comes. And there she goes. Her general complains are you didn't explain that thoroughly and where am I supposed to find that?
Let me explain this to you- and the ppl in my poly sci class- and while we're at it- my econ class. This, Ms. C., is graduate school. The professor already went out of her way to post the assignment, explain it, put a sample completed assignment online, and then give us a power point presentation on pointers on things we should be careful of later. What more could you possibly want? To the people in my econ class that wanted to change the midterm because they couldn't make it- this is graduate school. If the professor says your midterm is next week on Tuesday, during class time, you show up next Tuesday, during class time. Don't try to inconvenience me because you have another exam that day. This is grad school. Suck it up. How did you ever make it through undergrad? And poly sci people- the professor sucks, you say? Have you never had a professor that you didn't like? That's awesome, if so. What undergrad did you go to? So I can avoid sending my kids there. I'd hate for them to turn out as whiny as you did. Was it really necessary to spend an hour talking about the finer points of why you didn't like a professor that already quit?
Just wait til you're in the real world and your boss is a moron and there's nothing you can do about it. Or your boss says do this by four and you have no idea what she's talking about but you said, sure, no problem and somehow get it done by four. Three if you're awesome. This, fellow classmates, is graduate school. As John Mayer's song goes, Welcome to the real world. And yes, I did say that condescendingly.
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