Ridiculous musings from megan and ben (and occasionally hayley and/or buckley).
May 29 2009
k. so here are some obligatory family shots from my gradjiation and then one from annalise's. someone should harass ben into putting up some of the fantastic new york pictures he took. perhaps start a letter-writing campaign...
me, me parents, that ridiculous hood thing that comes with a Master's
many franks, only one in a silly hat.
he's so proud. mmm... diploma.
ben's mom took this after Annalise graduated, and i think it's pretty rad.
May 19 2009
i graduated! yay! my parents stayed with us for almost a week and i took off work and soulpancaking so as to hang out with them. my dad displayed some astonishing willingness and bravery in the face of those scary new things we always make him do, which deserves (and hopefully shall get) its very own blog post later.
at the moment, i'm sitting on annalise's futon in brooklyn (sigh. brooklyn. i wub you.). she got her bachelor's in the designing of fashions this morning in one fantastic clusterf*#@ of a graduation. annie liebowitz was the guest speaker, so that was something, except that she was almost as bad at speakering as she is good at photographering. it was in radio city music hall, which was neat inside, but we didn't need to sit there for nearly 3 hours to take it all in. however, annalise graduated and will presumably get a diploma in the mail soon, so yay! and we celebrated at this fantastic spanish place in chelsea and have a ton of leftover paella in the fridge. at any rate, yes, blog, i have a master's degree. and yes, blog, that means i will continue to babysit two days a week and soulpancake my lil' heart out for some more days and probably never actually find a job to make this degree qualify as useful. so if you haven't heard already, i am to be addressed henceforth as 'master' because i'm determined to get something out of it. and now, for your viewing pleasure, hayley as master's graduate:
master's in english? she can't even speak english!
graduatin' is tiring.
oh, and also, my first feature piece went up on soulpancake today. yay.
Mar 19 2009
i took my french final yesterday; all done, yay!! so i just have classes left at this point really. there are probably a few tweaks to be done to the portfolio, and i have to take the graduate exam thingy in a couple of weeks, but since i can't really conceive of any way to study for it, it's nothing to worry about ahead of time. that means i just have my classes and the papers and presentations and stuff within them to worry about. it's kind of weird, because as work goes from here on out, this semester will be pretty light compared to the inundations i've had in the past. i think i might have a minute to breathe every now and then. that, or the 'i really don't care any more' zen has completely kicked in. i guess i'll know for sure when i finally force myself to start that blasted literacy paper that's due on the 31st. it's so frustrating how much that class SUCKS in every possible way. i can't wait until we get to the review at the end; i think i'm gonna need to take mine home to have enough time to get it all in. and aside from the facts that the class is nothing like the description given at registration, 97% of the reading says basically the same thing, falling into categories of "assinine," "duh," or "elitist white bastards" and that none of it seems to have any sort of point, the professor clearly should've taught some more undergrad classes before jumping into a graduate class, or at least taken a very basic public speaking seminar or something. she's my age, or maybe younger, just finished her doctorate this summer; none of that would i hold against her. i DO hold against her the gum smacking, the constant "like, um, um, um... you know what i mean?" NO we do not know what you mean because you talk in circles and say nothing, occasionally interspersed with charming anecdotes about celebrity gossip or how swell junior high was, which you clearly remember because it was probably about 3 years ago. if she were thin and blonde i would be forced to refer to her as professor barbie. add to that the fact that the class is at least half-populated by idiots, some of whom don't speak with proper grammar and one of whom says "like" about every third word and you get the few of us who want to kill ourselves every tuesday night and have to struggle to talk ourselves into showing up in the first damn place. UG.
i try to console myself with the fact that the reading list for the children's lit class is so much fun it's stupid and that the other two people in the class with me, are in fact, intelligent women. the actual class time itself is unfortunately painful, because the professor likes to talk. a lot. a LOT. we have to interupt, often futilely, to get a syllable in edgewise. she's also one of those people who gets so excited when she's talking about this stuff (which she's excited about and really into, hence the talk-at-thons) that she loses CONTROL of the voLUME of heR VOICE, which is especially ear-tiring because there are only four of us, so we're usually pretty close together. and i've found that i just stop listening to her, which proves tricky on those rare moments she asks what we think, though not that tricky, since one of us only has to say a phrase or two for her to take off on that point. but, again, the reading list makes it kind of like cheating, and i need some sort of happy feeling about school, so i'm super-gluing a mental smile on my brain about that one. but seriously, i'm just ready for it to be done already. i have the senior-itis, as the kids say. i'm really eager to get on to um, unemployment and student loan repayment. yeah!
k. i suppose since the little one is napping i should read a book or something. for my stupid literacy writing & identity class. i have hopes for this one though, it actually looks interesting. fingers crossed. oh, and HAPPY BASKETBALL TIME!!
Mar 09 2009
i think this blog is sarah's fault, what with her recent post about her 6 year anniversary living in LA, but the sentiment is certainly my own. see, i've lived in this town for over 10 years, which is about 6 more than i intended. and at least 4 or 5 longer than i've really truly wanted to live here. i love my friends and life's pretty okay; it isn't about that really. it's just that i got over this town a LOOOOOOOONG time ago and there are plenty of other places i want to live. places with more of an art scene, more weirdo arty types, more to do when one wants to 'go out' than go to a bar and listen to forgettable music or go to a movie, more healthy, veggie-type eating out options, (much) better proximity to the ocean, and probably lots of other things. oh, perhaps some nice potential employment. that'd be neat. the kicker is that ben had finally grown tired of nashville as well, and we were planning to begin an exit strategy once i graduated. there was much rejoicing. then the economy exploded and selling a house we don't need to sell and moving to some unknown place for hypothetical jobs when ben has a well-paying one he loves here doesn't seem like the smartest of moves. so no moving. he says maybe next year, but i think that means never. something will come up, something will happen and i'll suffocate to death here. in stupid nashville.
my need to get out manifests itself every so often in an intense desire to at least go somewhere, anywhere, even for a weekend, which is about where i'm at now. it's like cabin fever, but it's location fever on top of it. i just get unsettled, physically, mentally, everything-else-ally. i lose focus easily and often wonder if my skin is actually thick enough to contain all the chaos of my innards. the only way i can think to describe it is the feeling you get if you drink about a gallon of espresso on an empty stomach: jittery, a little nauseated, bug-eyed and like you must run around waving your arms and screaming "AAAAAAAAAARRRGH!" i think the fact that last week i turned in my graduate portfolio and my last french assignment and this week is spring break has given me a breather, time to think about the inevitable "next," and i gotta say, i don't see anything. i think this is largely job-hunt related, as nashville really isn't the best of places to find a job writering much of anything (especially not now), let alone something i'd want to do. it's all complicated by the fact that my current employment situation could end at any point really, if the spot at daycare opens, but how likely is that? and since there's a bit more to it than just a 'typical nanny job' or whatever, i'll feel really bad if i quit. but i don't want to go back to the 50-hour a week schedule i had this summer, if that's even an option. either way, i don't relish the thought of adding any more 10-hour days to the two i'm doing now. and i need to get a real job somewhere so i can finally stop being such a deadbeat wife, and if this were any other job, i'd have no qualms about quitting. of course, the likelihood of finding a job at this point is pretty slim, so who knows. argh. i'm just jumbled and my skin is too tight, so i whine on my blog about my poor hard life with my nice house and my abundance of food and love and general spoiledness, then i want to kill myself for being such an ungrateful jackass. see? it really is hard being me.
at any rate, as winter seems to have finally left for good (huzzah!) and the days get longer, school is winding down and it feels like something should be about to happen, or i should know something or have some idea of how life will look in june. it should be hopeful, brightly colored, new, this Future that should be springing. all these thoughts are bouncing around, nudging and poking, i can see green and flowers and still i'm waiting for the last thaw; i'm still wintery and cold, gray and immobile and i dont like it. i'm ready for spring dammit! or at least a chance to flee nashville for a minute. i know the latter ain't happening any time soon, so i'll keep praying for the first. and i suppose i'll twitch my way through the spring, because there's nothing else to do. then we'll go to new york in may, and that might last me for a little bit, until the summer beach twitch takes over.
on a happier (and certain to be mucho beneficial for my brain and my skin) is that the weather saturday was awesome and i got to play outside and then sit outside and drink a beer and everything (actually, i got to sit outside and drink TASTY beers friday night too. if you haven't been for food, the chef at rumours east is AMAZING; haven't had grub that good in a while. and yes, i went to a wine bar and drank beer, delicious high-alc dark yummy beer). ben, hayley, buckley and i went to edwin warner park and walked the short trail behind the nature center. it was so so so very wonderful, and the dogs enjoyed playing in the creek and meeting other dogs and generally running around and sniffing and peeing on as much as possible. more of than needs to happen. a lot. well, maybe less of the peeing every 3 feet, but you know what i mean.
i also learned that one should not use a neti pot if one intends to leave the home in the two-hour period that follows. or one should at least be smart enough not to bow one's head for prayers at church immediately following neti potting.
Feb 11 2009
in lieu of writing a thesis, i have to turn in a portfolio with a written "reflection piece" and then an exam will be created based on what i've studied (the portfolio is to include syllabi from every class i've taken). there are guidelines for the portfolio, which basically say which pieces or types of pieces must be present and then whatever else i want to throw in. great. lovely. no problem. it's this "reflection piece" that has me thrown. This is the only guideline: "a reflective piece of no less than 2,000 words, in which you synthesize the work you have done in your M.A. program." while i'm a pretty big fan of not having strict rules and rigid structure and all that (particularly for writing), i think this is an instance where a little bit more might be helpful. i mean, sheesh. so i've been letting the idea of attempting to come up with some sort of reflectiony synthesis of, well, something float around in my brain (with everything else) for a while. so far, i have a good bit of nada. for one thing (as i'm sure i mentioned before), there are very few things i find more loathsome than just plain difficult than trying to analyze my own writing, nevermind the fact that writing about "me" is pretty detestable as well. yes i realize the irony of writing that in my blog. but i mean in more extended essay/memoir/analysis sort of ways. and you know it. plbt! but beyond that, i think it's perhaps that word: reflection. what is with the need to sit and ponder and dwell in and ruminate upon and undoubtedly romanticize some over and done with span of time or place or whatever? i just don't get it. i'm not saying that being mindful and aware of where you've been and what you did and how you did and can learn from it aren't important; it absolutely is. i'm thinking more of the sort of navel-gazing, pink-hued, sigh-inducing sort of narcissistic over-thinking that word "reflection" connotes. perhaps that's just me, and it's certainly something i'm going to have to work around, but it doesn't leave me any clearer really about what this grand summation of how grad school has made me so much more god-like than the puny little girl i was before. argh. am i over-thinking this? i think i'm over-thinking this. i hope i'm over-thinking this. it would be so unlike me - to make something bigger and more complicated than it needs to be. sigh.
truthfully, i know i'm overthinking it. in the grand scheme of things, it barely matters. this "class" is pass/fail. passing is contingent upon me turning in what i'm supposed to and producing eloquent and seemingly intelligent bs answers for my exam. still. due to my nerdy perfectionist nature, i would prefer that it did not suck. or sound overwrought, or pretentious, or obnoxious, or obsequious, or palin-esque. i could probably keep that list going for a while, so i'll stop now. i should just find a span of time to sit down and actually try to write something and then see what happens. that's a very basic and integral part of my particular writing process. i can do all the "planning" in the world, but until i sit down to actually compose something, i have no idea what it will look like. but me being me, i have to first feel like i have a "plan" to even get myself to the point of an actual honest attempt at construction. i know, you're probably thinking, "that doesn't even make any sense, and she must be aware since she just typed it out there." of course i'm aware! i'm actually pretty cognizant of all of my crazy, but that doesn't mean i can just skip parts of it. processes, people. processes. it's tough being me.