So I survived Midterms, and I survived them well. And then I had to catch-up on all the readings I didn’t do when I was writing my mid-term. And now it’s time to write some final paper proposals and um, figure out my thesis.
Because if I want to be one of the masochistic 10% that graduates in June, my thesis needs to be in on April 13th.
Jon Stewart singing a line from Allentown = adorable
My midterm is about 90% done and no more energy or motivation to work on it tonight. It’s due at 3PM tomorrow, so I need to get up early, especially because I should put in a few hours at work tomorrow. (Not only do I have an office. My hours are completely flexible. ) But I took a nap today, so now I’m not going to be able to sleep.
I’ve given up on the idea of NaNo this year. I was going to do it, if only for the social aspect because it was a nice way to meet people in New York last year, but I don’t have the time or energy. Add to the mix that I don’t enjoy writing fiction, and..meh. It’s a disappointing conclusion, because I’d like a non-UChicago outlet; that’s why NaNo was such an awesome thing to do in 04′ because it was a non-Skidmore outlet. But that was undergrad with 15 credits at a small liberal arts school and I had a car. I would like to finish HTLAR eventually, but that is “fictionalized” and not fiction.
I feel like writing something eloquent. I usually write in my head. Walking to campus in the morning, I’m composing paragraphs in my head, and by the time I walk home at night, they’ve been edited a dozen times. It’s how my brain works. But my brain is busy with academic matters and so the eloquence will have to wait for free time and possibly infusion with alcohol.
I’m still a little shaken up from this morning and the caffeine is not helping matters. I need to eat more, but I never have an appetite when I wake up. Tonight; cook pancakes, though I realized I don’t even have a bowl in which to make batter.
Also tonight, Steven Levitt’s “Beyond Freakenomics” lecture which is awesome.
Today was a much better day, class wise. Wednesday did not go well. I’m not going to go into an in depth explanation, because no one who is not in academia will get it, and it’s really boring. Regardless; today was much better. I spoke up in my Schmitt class and it was relevant. I am still concerned about my methods class because of the dynamic of the people in it.
My schedule, as if you care, just to give some semblence to what I’m talking about this quarter. (and the quarter system is scary. 10 weeks, no time to slack off or screw up. This is it. This is my life.)
Perspectives in Social Science – the one required course for my program which all 130 of us take. The lecture session has thus far been eh. I have my discussion session tomorrow. I am very, very lucky to have a good precept (advisors, broken down by specialization) because it may make my discussions session decent, even though the topics in survey courses are never that great.
Interpretive Methods in Political Science – fulfulls my “methods requirement.” This class is kicking my ass in the sense that I am intimidated. There are lots of arrogant guys. There is even one arrogant guy who has groupies (other guys, not girls) Given my past record, you’d think I’d be swooning, but none of them are my type. I wish I had a stronger background in political theory, wish I decided on it as a focus earlier, but in reality, it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. The government department had a comparative politics bend; I took every available political theory course except for Contemporary Political Thought. Maybe I should have taken more philosophy courses for strictly methodology purposes but…I have no regrets about my undergraduate career, no matter how dumb I feel in this class. I know I’m smart enough to catch up, it’s just going to take a lot of work. Until around April of 2004 I thought I was going to go to law school after college, possible get my MA in International Relations while I was at it, and somewhere in there, it occurred to me that that was not what I wanted to do. It was an intellectual crises of a sorts; I ditched a very prestigious, well paid internship in DC to come home to Jersey and make lattes for a summer because I Did. Not. Want. To. Be. In. DC. And I’ll never be in DC. That is not me. I am not a politician. I am not a would be lobbyist. Part of what my reading for Methods has tackled is the possible divide between theoretical and problem driven research, and the growing irrelevancy of academia – a sobering read for anyone contemplating a career as a professional political theorist. I recognize my future; if I pursue a PhD after this I will spend many years without income. If I do my PhD at Uchicago, I will be the dreaded “ABD” for ages. And once I get that title, I will enter the “publish or perish” world. I’ll have to write something worthy of being published that will be read by 3 or 4 people.
But if I do all that, I’ll get to teach. And that’s what I want to do. It started as a fragment of an idea back in freshman year of college. “…is it crazy…,” I asked Brent “…that I’m thinking I might want to teach…”
Okay, that was an unexpected tangent. Anyway. My third class:
Carl Schmitt on the Law and the Political: “Have all of you heard of Carl Schmit?” the professor asks. We all raise our hands. “Of course you have,” he says with a smirk. “This is U Chicago.” (Um, I hadn’t. This is why I feel stupid here)
Yes, U Chicago thinks way too highly of itself. Either way, it’s a great seminar, and I’m enjoying the reading, and we’re doing joint sessions with the Straussian seminar class, so yay!
So I think classes can be okay. Still a little bit isolated here, but talking to people in classes and in the lounge and I’m not letting this be anything less than tolerable.
Also, Angels in the Outfeild makes me cry.
I’d forgotten how awesome it felt to be completely engaged by an article.
My mind is running a million miles a minute. My brain is waking up.
Waiting to hear back on a few jobs. Been researching like mad to get my sample projects done.
Depending on what time I meet up with the Younger Wiser Sibling, I may go down to the lake later. Before the weather gets too frigid.
And then it is more reading.
I am eating cold Ramen noodles.
I haven’t changed the time on my laptop to reflect Midwestern time. I have lived in the Northeast all my life (except for summer abroad) and so I am not into this whole “Central Time Zone” thing. It means the Daily Show comes on at 10 and that I have to remember to call my friends back home at eight-something my time, because it’s already 9-something there, and I don’t want to call too late.
They have various beers here that one cannot find in the Northeast. I’m sure there are brands of stuff that you can’t find here, but I haven’t noticed yet. Also, the Co-op by me takes off 5% if you bag your own groceries. I found this out because I made a big shopping trip, politely told the bagger I would bag my own stuff (it was my career for three years. I bag groceries better than you. Trust me. Also, I still remember a lot of produce codes) and found I got nearly $8 off. Eight dollars is important when you’re a student. I just spent an obscene amount of money on books for class.
Other Things:
There are imported squirrels here
There is a brand of soda called “Wildwood.” It tastes like RC Cola. They also make seltzer, orange soda, etc.
Different brands of bottled water than home
People are weirdly friendly. Like when we were driving out here, the toll collectors on the Ohio and Indiana Turnpikes were really happy and friendly. And the hotel people at the Ramada were friendly and not snooty.
I’m sure I will notice lots of other quirks. Right now though I am really, really tired and am going to go back to my apartment and take a nap. In the middle of the day. I like being a student.
Dusk is beginning to fall over Hyde Park and I’m high on life and a few plastic glasses of wine. (At college orientation they feed you. At grad school orientation they ply you with booze so you forget you have no income and 300 pages of reading.) Michael’s called me twice in the past week and so I finally return his call.
I fill him in on the past few days, and he tells me again how different I sound on the phone “Different from a year ago…and totally different then five years ago.”
“Yeah. I’ve decided Hampshire Rachel is officially dead.”
In a little while, I’m leaving for a Brazillian Barbeque Feast with the usual suspects. We are going to eat ridiculous amounts of food and then I’m going to go see a movie with a bunch of strangers. Tomorrow I am going to a lecture and then for coffee with Randroids.
And then on Monday I’m going to write my professors for yes, one more letter. I’ll put together an application by the end of the week; just as one more option.
I am going to see Billy Joel again and I will be bouncy and happy and fan-girly because it is Billy Joel! It is impossible to be sad when there is Billy Joel!
And I’m going to start looking at jobs and rents in DC, even though I am not qualified to do anything. Because I’m just looking. But Michael and I may as well start our presidential campaign early, and he’d make a great housemate.
As I told Lisa last night, as we referenced conversations now six years old ‘I will survive, and then it will be raining men, and then I will make a speech about how my coach, was like, totally influential on my life.”
“Like, totally! Because you have two jobs and do all sorts of volunteer work. And still play soccer!”
“Totally. And woman’s soccer is like, totally important. I am going to campaign to get us more fields!”
This morning, I was hunting for my shoes, and found a sugar packet with the Skidmore logo, the kind that they used to have out at the SPA and Cyber Café. I have no idea how it got there.
I’ve FINALLY got my Rutgers application out (delayed solely because of procrastination). Dallas is the only one that’s left. The SOP is done, but they also ask for you to write an “educational history” ie, the changes you went through in your academic career that led to now. I am trying to fit the Hampshire experience, the “Rachel when are you going to admit you’re a Giant Right-Winger?” and the “Screw D.C., I want to read Hobbes and make lattes.”
(Of course, beyond the academic evolution that sounds pretty on paper, there is the shallow version, which I may write up, just for fun.)
Moving is a hassle. I’m sure I should consider “do I really need all these books?” but I don’t bother to ask myself that question because the answer is “Yes.” At this point, I’m over having to move and just want to be done with the move. Furniture needs to be taken apart, kitchen things need to be bought for the new place, and utility things need to be arranged. My perpetual desire to just be settled is acting up – and ‘settled’ will have to wait until February 4th.
It’s the day that all December applications are due, and all of mine are officially in. I do have to offer up a giant “Fuck You” to Columbia University for their asinine policy of not holding themselves responsible for a huge problem with their online application that froze the recommendation pages, so professors couldn’t upload their recommendations. (This was discovered on Monday. Their basic answer for me was “Well it should have been in already” I am ALL for sending things in early, but if the deadline is December 15, submitting something on the 12th is perfectly acceptable. They didn’t do anything to inform applicants that the system wasn’t working, nor are they accepting documents that get their late as a result. When I checked this mornign, the problem still hadn’t been fixed. (This has apparently been a problem since last Wednesday. I found out about it on Monday. This is plenty of time for them to have informed people to send things by regular mail) So, fuck you Columbia. You should be using Embark like ALL THE OTHER SCHOOLS USE FOR ONLINE APPLICATIONS BECAUSE IT ACTUALLY WORKS.
Grrrr. Anyway. The applications are in. They are out of my hands. Cross your fingers for me.
I’ve just finished Ignorance by Milan Kundera. It was a lovely little novella. What I adore about Kundera is the way in which he seamlessly blends philosophy into his narrative. He is nothing short of lyrical. He uses very little dialogue. He captures a train of thought
This guy I used to know was mildly befuddled by the way my mind worked. The way it was never quiet, keeping me away as it delved deeply into each topic is jumped to – because his mind worked so differently. So one night, when I couldn’t sleep, I just wrote down a train of thought. I used a lot of parenthesis for the asides, in many cases double sets of parenthesis. There’s no way I could explain to someone the way I think. I had to show it by writing down what I was thinking. That’s what Kundera does. There’s very little action, and even less conversation. But you understand so well what’s going on, and why the characters are doing things, because you’ve read their thoughts. This isn’t a unique device, but the way in which he wields it is so insanely…evocative. I don’t necessarily remember the characters names, or the details of the plot, but I remember the asides.
I can’t say I try to emulate him, because I was writing in a long-winded, descriptive style long before I read my first Kundera novel (The Incredible Lightness of Being, which is simply beautiful) but it’s always nice to find an author who has perfected the art of the overwrought. Kundera has also “literary zinged” me, hardcore.
I’ve already lost the hat that I so smartly purchased, and this was the wrong morning to be without a hat. I am probably going to be reduced to buying an “I ‘Heart’ NY” hat from one of the touristy vendors by my office. It will probably cost $12. Yay Midtown-Tourist District. I’m at 52nd and 7th, so I’m mere blocks away from Rockefeller Center and the awful, awful tree (stolen from Wayne, NJ!) and Radio City Music Hall and the area is simply teeming with stupid tourists.
I really hope the MTA goes on strike because
a) It won’t affect me
b) I enjoy chaos (which is very un-Hobbesian of me!)
c) I like the fear-mongering in the media. Especially because it is also supposed to snow on Thursday
I am drinking disgustingly bad coffee that I bought at the kiosk downstairs. However, the bad coffee is kind of growing on me, and it does its job.
Also, I am a walking Ann Taylor ad today. Except for the functional footwear.
Apartment drama continues. I go back and forth between really, really wanting to stay in my place and wanting to just move and not deal with the increased rent/lease hassle, so I am making lots of phone calls and playing with budget numbers, and being all Type-A. And Brent would make my life sooo much easier if he would get over his “I don’t want to live with a girl” nonsense.
Me: Watching Twister makes me want to find me a meteorologist husband and go chase tornados (said with the appropriate twang)
Brent: That man would have to have the patience of a saint considering the way you behave on roller coasters
Me: Any man who dates me will have to have the patience of a saint. Besides, I don’t do that anymore.
Brent: Need I bring up the Rolling Thunder incident?
Me: That was like ten years ago! Besides I bet the post-tornado-chasing sex would be really hot.
Brent: Wow. You are absolutely the biggest loser ever.
-Circa March 2005
(I was paging through my history notes and found that conversation scribbled down. And then Twister was on TV on Friday afternoon! It was so serendipitous! It is also appropriate considering I have definitely secured my title as a Difficult Woman.)
I’ve condensed my Honors Research paper to 25 pages, and although it’s a bit rushed, I feel it’s strong enough to submit to University of Chicago. I’m finished with my Columbia SOP, and nearly done with my University of Texas one. I’ve revised my list of schools I’m applying to, started some online applications, and today, the process seems manageable.
So I’m applying for graduate school, blah blah blah, extremely competitive, blah blah blah I’m never going to get into graduate school.
Anyway, I’ve always been fairly certain I will get into Rutgers. Rutgers has a very good political science program that has consistently improved in the past five years. As important, if I’m accepted I’ll be fully funded, be giving a housing stipend, and in addition, get paid to be a TA or research assistant after the first year. All of this is fantastic, but I’ve been caught up in stigma of “it’s Rutgers”
Yeah, it’s Rutgers, and it’s always been a good school, growing up in suburban New Jersey just makes you a snob.
And yeah, it’s Rutgers, and political theory faculty has a Tocqueville scholar. A Tocqueville scholar! I’ve been toying with the idea of reading modern political thought (Hobbes, Tocqueville, etc) through a feminist framework, and the ways in which modern political theory is applicable to contemporary ideas of sovereignty. Much of my goal regarding reading Tocqueville through a feminist framework is to find a theoretical grounding for my qualms with much contemporary feminist theory.
And there’s a Tocqueville scholar at Rutgers. So how can I not go?
But then there’s this, that I’ve never been out of the Northeast, and thus I’ve never really been out of my comfort zone, and Thomas West is at U-Dallas, and, and, and.
And I adore Tocqueville, and Jersey, and being near my family and surrogate family alike, and, and, and
And “que sera, sera”
I’m going to just be a real fun person to be around when acceptance and rejection letters role in mid-March through mid-April. That’s already my “that time of year!”
