Last weekend I was seriously stressing about how insanely high my credit card bill had gotten. I knew paying rent and COBRA wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d be dipping into my savings way more than I liked (and oh how the savings dwindle when you are unemployed.)

On Tuesday evening I got the email: “We are prepared to make you the following offer.”

On Friday I had a job. Not only a job, but one that was a promotion from the one I’d originally applied for. The CEO was impressed, they said. (Please note: I now work for a very, very tiny company, one even smaller than The-Job-That-Wasn’t 2.0. But hey, it’s still a cool thing to impress a CEO enough to get you out of the assistant trap and get you into a job title that won’t make you self-conscious to hand out business cards.)

So Friday night I couldn’t stop smiling, and I made the first level of the pies for my impending dinner party, and when The Roommate got home, we just hung around, occasionally exchanging bits of commentary, and yeah, I know there’s been pseudo-drama with us that’s mostly my jack-asinine behavior that’s at fault, but it is nice that we can just “be” when we’re around each other. And then we made an amusing trip to Target Saturday morning.

Michael came over around noon on Saturday, and I had not seen him in months so it became a very fun session of cooking, reminising, catching up, babbling, and yes, lets talk about how Rachel loses her gaydar completely when a Libertarian is involved. Michael is one of the most gregarious people I know and he will engage anyone in just conversation or whatever. So while we were cooking and talking, The Roommate was putting together chairs (wins more Roommate points for engaging my dinner party that logistically was going to be a mess although a few expected people didn’t show, so it would have worked out) and I think Michael actually forced Roommate into having a good time. Which I did not know was possible. The Roommate does not have fun.

And then – successful party, I think. The food wasn’t as good as it could have been, I forgot to put out cheese with the chili, and the salad just never got made. But we all just hung around the table, and people laughed a lot, so is that a good sign of a successful gathering? I think so. Plus, it was also an impromptu celebration of my new job.

And then, I had a date, of sorts, on Sunday. This is a change from my usual mode of boy drama. This boy has told me straight out that he likes me, told me he thinks I am “beautiful and intelligent”, and held my hand in public. He made me feel adored, which made me realize – the recent boy I like-liked never made me feel like that. He was very good to me in many ways, from the pajama pants to the pancakes, (and one time, in the midst of the worst panic attack I have ever had he made sure I was safe and protected). And to him, I owe the roof over my head. I will always be incredibly grateful to whatever bizarre arrangement the roommate and I have. But I get his point now. It has been so long since I dated and I am so used to emotionally unavailable men, for whom you have to fight for an ounce of their attention. I forgot that sometimes you can just be yourself, and a boy will like you and pay attention to you.

This isn’t going anywhere yet. It hasn’t even started. But he held my hand in public, and he walked me to my doorstep and kissed me tonight, and he asked me if he could see me again soon.

And of course I said yes.

Don’t they say that humans have 6-8 dreams a night, or something ridiculous? You just don’t remember 95% of them? I’m too lazy to look it up. Anyway, my second to last dream before waking (the last one was Little House on the Prairie related) was that I got the interview in DC. 

My dreams have been oracle like before, so I was thinking about that while I was getting ready.

And then I checked my email before my ride got here, and there was a “Rachel, come in for an interview” email. It had been sent at like 6:00 am, probably right around the time I was actually having the dream. How freaky is that?

I have an interview in DC in 2 weeks! And they are paying for my train fare and accomodations. And since I’ll be in DC anyway, I’m going to stay the weekend and hang out with Keithers.

So at least SOME of the shopping I’ve been doing lately has not been for naught. Now I have plenty of job-interview outfits to choose from! I am definitely straigtening my hair.  Obviously, I have my priorities in order.

Now, I’m very psyched about this, but I also need to reign in some of my excitement. This is still a LONG process. I will be interviewing with at least 6 different people at the foundation. Even if that goes really well, I will still have to interview at 4-5 of their partner organizations. And you know what? I could be FANTASTIC, and as a result of circumstances (bad economy being one of them) they may not have a placement for me at any of their partner organizations.

So I don’t want to pin all my hopes on this, even though they clearly already are.  To say nothing of all the obsessing that will go into the possibily-moving-to-DC aspect of this.

But I’m afraid that my hopes are already there.

I’m sitting in the Nashville airport, where my flight is delayed (as expected)

I had the absolute best time in Knoxville, and not because of anything we did, neccessarily, just because I had so much fun just hanging out with Ellie and David, watching House, talking about dorky things, and laughing over said dorky things. It’s so weird – logically, I never should have wound up on Message Board of Note., given that I was a sporadic, at best H&R poster. But I have made some of the best friends I could imagine making through Message Board of Note.

Ok, we are WAY TOO EXCITED about this. I already posted my “Election 08″ gift to Kevin, and wrote something reflective, and now I just can’t sit still. So, some randomosity: (I kept this draft all day. This is a collection of election day babblings.

Read the rest of this entry »

Hired.

And to think, I almost blew off going to the temp agency because I didn’t want to drive down the Parkway.

This job is the best, best thing to happen to me in a very long time.

The rest of the weekend was interesting. It included a drunk dial from HWSNBN, a text message from Dru that made me smile a ridiculous amount, and other grylliade-goodness, and just hanging around Astoria.

Friday, I met up with Michael. Michael had been staying with his boyfriend, but had broken up with him that morning. So we took a long walk through the East Village/Alphabet City, SoHo, etc. Michael suggested we stop & just chill out out in the cafe at the Whole Foods on E. Bway, and I was all snobby, like “Your’e going to come to New York and hang out in a whole foods?!?!” He was amused, laughed, and said “There’s the Rachel I know & love.” Once again, ti’s good to feel like myself again.

We walked some more and wound up at a cafe somewhere off 7th Ave on Bank Street. It was very good to catch up with Michael. He vented about his situation with his boyfriend and how he didn’t want to end things, but he couldn’t see things changing.

“Sometimes doing the right thing feels awful, but it’s better than doing the wrong thing” Those are the words Brent told me after I “ended’ things with HWSNBN, omg, back in the summer of 2004, FOUR YEARS AGO OMG I AM SO OLD.

We also talked about what I’d been venting about to Jim – how you shouldn’t have to work to get some one to like you. Relationships of all kinds take work. YOu do your best and they do their best, presumably. And if they’re not, you get the hell out.

Even though OLB was a repeat of my MO, at least I got out after 4 months instead of letting it drag — and even 4 months was pushing it.

Anyway, I saw Michael off to Port Authority — he just wanted to get home. That night, I wathced firework from the roof. Before the big Macy’s show you could see fireworks from other, smaller shows (Southport, Bronx, etc) plenty of do-it-yourself ones from nearby. I chatted with the guys on the neighboring roof, yay for meeting neighbors!

Late-late Friday night, i got a VERY interesting voicemail from HWSNBN. And then he drunk dialed me again and um…that was…interesting. He was trashed and I totally played that for all it was worth, basically taunting him with the fact that he could have had me anytime he wanted and he totally blew it. Anyway, I take the whole thing as a grain of salt, but still so entertaining. I still don’t quite get why now, since we broke up 4 years ago, but whatever, I’m not offended.

I am in a good mood!

That is all.

There’s this Dar Williams song “Iowa” in which the chorus is “Iowa” all the syllables dragged out” and the way in which the syllables are emphasized means “Astoria” could easily be subsituted. Given that I spent most of my 8th grade year writing parodies/other versions of songs, I could probably come up with something for Astoria

So my new apartment may not be in the Ditmars area of Astoria (one of my favorite place in the world, possibly…) but it’s on a good block just off of 30th Avenue, where laundry is less than a block away and the supermarket it a 3 minute walk, and the apartment is amazing. Hello, BOOK ROOM. Although, not all my books will be there immediately. I have over 2000 books. Moving books is a pain. But I am so happy to be back in Astoria.

On Thursday, I went to the monthly Astorians gathering, and saw some old faces and also got introduced to a bunch of new people, since the Astorians board has exploded in popularity since I left. What was awesome was getting several “oh, you’re back from Chicago?!?. Welcome back!” It’s such a neighborhood here. I love that I have a community to come back to.

When I was looking for apartments the first time, I didn’t have a neighborhood in mind; I simply replied to every Craigslist ad in my price range. That was when I learned that finding an apartment through the room/share section meant going on “roommate interviews” which are way worse than job interviews. It was terrible. When I had to start doing it again this time, I wanted to shoot myself. When I was 22 I could sort of tolerate it, even though almost everyone was older than me, I was used to being around college students and their drama. At 24, having worked a year in NYC, and survived my year at Chicago, I could not do it. I could not suck up to people in hopes of finding a room.

So I posted this ad in the “Housing Wanted” section of Craigslist for a roommate to apartment hunt with, basically saying “I am sick of roommate interview drama. We’ll probably annoy each other sometimes, but lets just be civil adults and find a place.”

And so I met current-roommate, who instinct says I can live with. Seriously, we sat down together, hashed things out, and we’re cool on multiple things. We found an amazing apartment together. Seriously! The place is 10 million times better than my run down apartment on the other end of Astoria. I am going to miss living in the Ditmars area, but I think this neighborhood can feel like home too.

Tonight, I am once again at my parent’s house in Jersey, unearthing my possessions from storage, because I have found permanance. I’m going to be at this apartment for quite awhile. So I can finally pull my books out of my old bookcase, bring my photo albums from under my old bed, take my old nightstand, because it won’t be needed here. I like the fact that this place has long term potential.

So tomorrow! Driving out to Astoria with my dad, with bookcases, and buying him lunch. My dad is awesome and his attitude makes me be unstressed about moving, generally. Then 3 day week (again) due to Jew holidays at work. Then getting furniture delivered, and bringing the rest of the stuff to the apartment next Thursday/Friday.

When I say I’m going to do something, I do it.

I had my last final yesterday afternoon. I am signed off to graduate. I am DONE with grad school. 

An MA, in 9 months, just days after my 24th birthday? Means I have the whole rest of my life to do things completely unrelated to my over-educated degree!

Number of (un)intentional all-nighters [rough draft included]: 5
Number of times I changed the title of the project:                  6 (see the final title above)
Number of times I considered the project a complete failure: probably about 5-6. I think I only cried over it once though.
Number of drafts I’ve saved because I’m neurotic/paranoid: 58

Being done with my thesis, by the deadline for June graduation, as I wanted to all along: Priceless.

It was worth all the anti-socialness. It was worth the intimidating of the brilliant advisor. It was worth skipping class for meeting with said advisor. It was worth the mess my apartment is, buried in journal articles and books and empty cans of seltzer & energy drink (I actually took a picture of my desk last night, to capture the outrageousness)

This has been an exhilirating process of 11th hour epiphanies. I started this project feeling pretty meh, just trying to find ANYTHING that could relate to Carl Schmitt, because it would make the whole “topic/advisor” thing infinitely easier. I initially wanted to kick my own ass for chosing to write on the war on terror. And then something clicked. And then something else clicked. And its turned into a really awesome project.

The thesis is in. And now I promise never to speak of Carl Schmitt again!

Edited to add: This didn’t hurt. Like if you’ve ever had braces; getting your braces tightened hurts way worse than a tattoo.

So Em, Kate, and I got tattoos yesterday. This is mine. It’s very me for several reasons. First the little symbol in the “s” symbol in the runic alphabet. In Germanic languages, it stands for strength, battle, and victory. It was briefly appropriated by the fascists which makes it all the more appropriate considering my thesis. The quote surrounding it is from one of my most favorite Dar Williams lyric. The full quote is “I build my peace through strength/That’s the best weapon you’ve got,” but that’s a bit long for a tattoo. This is probably one of the lamest tattoos ever, but I really love mine, and we had fun getting them together.

It’s a beautiful day. Don’t let it get away.

Besides my distrust/discomfort with perfectly weathered days such as this one, I’m afraid I also have to ignore Bono’s plantative suggestion because I am spending the whole day inside with my fascist boyfriend. It’s not as enjoyable as it sounds. I DO have on a very pretty colored tank top — it’s all about the little things. Plus, I need to look really cute to make up for the fact that I’m Jewish — my fascist boyfriend lets that go because I have a German last name, and lets face it, how many other chicks are going to defend him. Oh wow — way too close to my MO for comfort, anyway, back to the real purpose of this entry: procrastination!

Life feels very, very, very good right now.

Last night was the MAPSS dinner. They sat us by precept group. I got to talk to my precepter a lot. Last quarter I was very anti-him, but I have, as I mentioned, done a total 180, and he is awesome, and I am so lucky to be in this group.

We made toasts. We bonded. We did a little bit of sharing TMI. (I told the “how I got into political theory because of a boy” story.)

Sarah, who is apparently right about everything, joined our table later on in the evening. She has predicted that I’m going to get a PhD, wind up in academia, etc based on the way I talk about things. (She also predicted the conclusions of this weekend. Cough) That would solve the problem about what the hell I’m going to do with my life, but we’ll see. No Plan. Did you know political theorists are being phased out? And only about 6% of jobs in political science go to theorists, and most of those are for nonsense like “Logic” and “Game Theory.”

We went to the pub afterwards and I had good-good conversations with people I hadn’t talked to much before. I talked to one girl about NYC and how we both want to move back there, etc. I talked to a girl in my building about how we stop working at 10 PM (we live in the stupid central time zone, shut up) to watch the Daily Show.

Life is bizarre and good, and awesome. I will still say in a heartbeat that I miss New York, and I miss Astoria, and I miss the life I had there. And I still want to be done with this program and have some certainty about what the hell I’m doing next year. But, since I’ve been told I need to learn how to live in the present and not worry so much about the future, I’m going to really try to just enjoy this, for this.

1) Today, I got out of class, and the sky was bright blue and all the U Chicago faux-Gothic architecture looked so-so pretty against the cobalt background and I thought “This doesn’t happen much, but right now I’m so happy to be right here.” Because my class had just gone well (yay for making several relevant points) and so I felt smart. Then I had a great meeting with my precept regarding classes for next quarter, paper topics, and my thesis. It is times like this when I think I want to still do the PhD thing. We’ll see. No Plan, for now.
 
2) I officially have paper topics for my two political science classes. Guess what, I’m suckered into writing about feminism again! Favorite-Professor-From-College was right when she warned me that, as a female theorist, I’d always be pushed towards feminist theory. But unlike my defense of Marxist feminism last quarter, I’m not going to sell out on this one. I’m going to critique ‘sameness’ feminism in JS Mill through the lens of Diderot. A giant ‘fuck you’ to Judith Butler. 

3) I have pages written on my thesis! Not good pages, but things on paper nonetheless.

4) I have kind of done a 180 on my attitude about my precept since last quarter. I feel like a sell-out on that, but whatever. Today, he was talking about how he just finished reading MAPSS applications for next year and it reminded me that even though I am a PhD reject, I still completely and totally beat the admissions odds to get in to this program and so I felt smart for that too.

Other than that, I am sick, yet again and all I want to do is sleep all weekend. And this burst of good mood-ness is probably attributed to post-last-weekend-giddiness, so it is entirely possible I am only imagining my current good will towards University of Chicago. At any rate, I’m still on a good course to finish this stupid program in June, and go do something else.

…except now I’m thinking about doing a PhD program.

Whatever. As a woman, I reserve the right to change my mind.

And after three days of thinking my thesis was headed towards hopelessness, something clicked. I changed one word in my hypothesis and the way I framed my whole paper and suddenly it all makes so much more sense. I still have to rewrite the proposal and meet with potential-faculty-advisor on Monday, but I feel good about it.

This weekend will be spent seeing Sebastian, who is visiting as a potential PhD student, cleaning my apartment, and writing the perfect paper proposal so I can go into my meeting on Monday and kick ass.

And my presentation in my Machiavelli class earned praise. Maybe I’m not so stupid after all.

Now I’m going to the Campus Pub with my precept group to toast to the fan club, among other things.

*(I changed my hypothesis from “…Carl Schmitt would be critical of the war on terror….” to “….Carl Schmitt would be critical of the STRATEGY of the war on terror…” That’s obviously an oversimplification, but that’s what my thesis is about in laymans terms. Yes, I want to kick my own ass for referencing the war on terror.)