O RLY?

And just when I thought I was finished with the problematic justification...

First, I wrote it.  Sent it in.  Elaborate here, add a citation here, elaborate there, add a sentence here, she said.  Usually, elaborate means add.  As in, it's gonna be longer than what it was when I initially turned it in.  I elaborated, I added.  Sent it in again. Then homegirl said, Oh, dear, now it's too long.  O RLY?  Now I got to cut back on what you told me to add.  O-kay.  O-kay.  So then I had to slash that sucker back down to size.  Hombre, te lo digo de verdad.  Whittled that puppy down and sent it back in.  Will it be the last?  Time will tell.

It does feel good to have it off my hands again, though.

Ah, but reading.  Finished Junot Diaz's Drown.  Exquisitely written, but mad depressing.  Now I'm reading this experimental novel written by an Afro-Argentine writer that is chock full of Argentine slang flying over my head.

Ah, but dissertation fellowship application.  Due January 6, genius.  The day you start your new life of the new semester.  You must needs get cracking.  Statement of purpose, et. al., honey.  These documents ain't gonna write themselves and then proceed to attach themselves to Interfolio.  No, ma'am.

Ah, but a sweet, unassuming, long-lashed, dimpled, freckle-faced, guitar-playing, Spanish-speaking, singer-songwriting guy.  Who wants to write a song together.  Who introduced me to linguistics terms like 'idiolect' and 'isogloss' and 'implicature.'  Who appreciates GRE words.  Who "can't wait" to come to church with me again.  Who wants to study the Bible in the original Greek and Hebrew.  Who really wants things to work out.

Yes, yes.  I must be careful and use discernment.  Without a doubt.  This is true.  I am quite aware of the complications of it all.  I don't dismiss anyone's concern.  It very well may not work out and I would have to be okay with that possibility.  But can I be for real about something?

I have been in a few situations where everything looked great on paper, but in the end, to be frank, the other party was just not willing to do what it takes.  He was not willing to work for me.  He was not willing to commit.  He was unsure.  He was not confident enough to or simply unwilling to pursue me.  As my friend used to say, he couldn't back that stuff up.  "He can talk a good game, but can he back that stuff up?"

In other situations (where perhaps the paperwork wasn't exactly the best), I was essentially told that wanting the person I date or marry to share my faith was "too much to ask."  O RLY?

Well, now I'm in a spot where the paperwork isn't all in order, but the other party is quite willing to work for me and pursue me, seems sure of what he wants and is willing to commit.  I'm in a spot where, so far, wanting him to share my faith is not too much to ask.  Time will tell.

Handle it.

I'm at Starbucks, determined to revise my problematic justification before I dare do anything else.  I will finish this today.  Nope, I don't even wanna hear it.  You will finish this today.

But everything I hear (snatched conversations), listen to (Pandora + Starbucks background music), read (FB newsfeed, CNN.com) think about ("How am I going to get this done?"  "How am I going to get through comps?"  "How is this relationship going to play out?") while trying to get to the matter at hand is making me tear up.  In the middle of Starbucks.  With a long since cold caramel brulee latte.

My friend said, "It's okay to cry.  It's just a human response.  Like laughing."  But I guess laughing is more socially acceptable than crying.  Laughing is more okay than crying.  Should it be?

I'm getting this revision done today.  I need to get it done so that I can do some more side editing for my prof.  Extra cash is nice, but I have to handle my own stuff first.

Handle my own stuff.  Handle it.  "It's handled."

Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? But it is a question that rests on my lips more often that I'd like to admit.

Can I say it?  I'm tired of this unsettled feeling.  That there is still so much work left to do before I can even think about settling in any manner anywhere in any concrete kind of way makes tears spring to my eyes.  I'm tired of being assaulted by cognitive dissonance.  It seems that there is no slice of space that will allow me to comfortably settle in.  The idea that I will just have to constantly navigate more or less acceptable spaces along with a constant bit of discomfort makes tears spring to my eyes.

This morning, I woke up and said, "Thank you, God, for taking care of me.  I have confidence in You."  I want to believe it so badly.  I want to believe it constantly and consistently.  Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.

What's really going on?

I met someone when I wasn't trying to meet anyone new.  It came at a time when I had finally decided that I was done dealing with another person in my life.  I was done, as in, I was done opening myself up to him: "You have everything to give and he has everything to take."

It sort of happened.  He asked if I wanted to have coffee sometime.  We started playing the guitar.  We enjoyed each others' company.  I was in denial.  No, it's not like that.  Until it was.  What makes you think this could work?  It couldn't work.  It wouldn't work.  You're too different.  And church!  Hello, skirt girl.  And church.

 Whatareyougettingyourselfinto?  Whatareyouthinking?  Whatareyoudoing?  But I'm not.  doing.  anything.  I'm just trying to finish this program.  How can I shut myself off from the world?  Is that what I'm supposed to do?  I could've said no to coffee.  I could've said no to jam sessions.  I could have said no to going to hear him play open mic at a coffee shop downtown.  But I didn't.  And should I have?

So, what's a church girl to do other than bring up church?  I mean, hey, this is important to me.  What's a church girl to do other than be upfront?  But I'm too much of a weirdo . . . it's too weird, he's not going to be interested, it's so different.  I'm so different.  He won't understand.

But then he wanted to have a Bible study.  We did.  And then he wanted to come to church.  He came. And now he wants to get baptized?

What's really going on?  Like, is this for real?  This is not supposed to be happening.  You weird little flirt to converter.  Missionary dater. Why can't you stick with your own already-churched kind?  But . . . I wasn't trying to . . . 

"Well, just be careful."  "Well, just pray."  "Well, it's a process."  "But, weren't you just talking about some other guy? It's too soon."  "That's really fast, isn't it?"  "Just wait and see."

I know.  I know.  Iknowiknowiknowiknowiknow.

I'm trying to just breathe.  Just trying to not get in the way more than I already have.

I have to be honest and say I don't know what's really going on.  I can't call it.  So I'm trying to let it be.  And I'm trying to enjoy the journey.

All Things Go

1. Gave a presentation about my experience in Cuba yesterday.  It went over really well and I got a lot of positive feedback.  One of my major professor's students came and she said after listening to my presentation, she wanted to go to Cuba, too.

2. An abstract I submitted was accepted to a conference at UT Austin.  I'm really excited about it because it was the conference that I most wanted to attend.  It is on a much broader scale than Romance Languages, and will give me a bit of versatility because the paper I'm presenting is a little outside of my usual scope.  I'll get partnered with a senior scholar and my paper may even have the chance to get published.

3. I got an email from my professor who is now at a prestigious Ivy League and she's arranging for me to spend the summer there either as her research assistant or as a research fellow of some sort for me to get research underway for my dissertation.  She'll find out for sure whether she's won any of the grants she's applied for by the end of the month.

4. Upon my return from Thanksgiving break, a very sweet friend gave me a sunflower and a mix CD he created for me.  He said they were songs he liked that he thought I would like, too.  The first one goes like this.