That Girl

I was going to write a more detailed post, but I'm afraid of being that girl.

You know who that girl is.

She's giggly and she talks all day long about some guy she's with and she posts stuff about him on Facebook and she's all wrapped up in him and how he's the best and the sweetest and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

I'm not that girl.  I am SO not that girl.

But seriously though, yesterday you don't know how badly I wanted some Chick-fil-a.  I woke up with a chicken biscuit on the brain.  But I didn't want to drive out and get it, then come back to my apartment, then catch the bus to campus (since I can't park on campus) . . . that would be a waste of time.  I was just going to catch the bus, go to campus and maybe get something to eat close to where I needed to get to work.  I was about to leave out, but then I get a text saying, I kid you not, "Hey, I'm on my way to Chick-fil-a for breakfast.  Would you like anything?"

You are kidding me.  I texted back, "GASP!  That is exactly what I wanted!"

I know it's ridiculous, but is it okay if I believe it was the Lord giving me the desire of my chicken-biscuit-loving heart?  And is it okay if I draw any parallels with the person who, unbeknownst to him, asked me if I wanted exactly what I wanted?

Several months ago, when we were mere guitar playing buddies, we were about to practice and I asked what he wanted to play first.   He responded, "Whatever your heart desires."  

John 3:7

Marvel not that I said unto thee, Ye must be born again.

I really need to get ready for my office hour (to which I'm perpetually late), but I'm still feeling overwhelmed from yesterday.

God has done something that only God can do.  I am amazed.  I am humbled.  It's too good to be true.  But it's still true.

Part of me doesn't want to write about this in such a public space because it is about a personal spiritual experience that is not mine.

But suffice it to say this: God brought someone into my life.  And I was 100% not in control of the timing of anything.  And it scared me to death.  I hate not being in control.  It makes me nervous and it drives me crazy and it makes me want to do stupid things in vain in order to try to regain control that I never had in the first place and I just can't stand it.  But yesterday God said the same thing that He has always said to me, and that is, I got this.

Suffice it to say that yesterday, someone who has become very close to me was completely born again when he made the decision to be water baptized after he had already experienced Spirit baptism.

This is just the beginning of the journey for him.  I am still on a journey myself.  There are no guarantees.  None other than that God is in control.

God has built my faith and reassured me that it's going to be okay.  He's reminded me that I have no choice but to keep trusting Him and letting my light shine.

Post-Valentine's Day Post

So, as usual, I'm supposed to be doing something productive but blogging instead.

I'm 31, but yesterday was the first time I've been in a relationship on Valentine's Day.

That is not to say that family members haven't done nice things for me on that day.  (Last year, middle bro had balloons, a stuffed animal and a dozen chocolate covered strawberries delivered to me.  Middle bro got major points that day.)  That is not to say that admirers haven't done nice things for me on that day.  (I was extremely flattered and grateful, but the feeling wasn't mutual.)  I am extremely thankful for friends and family who have shown me love on a day where love is celebrated.  And I guess I'm glad to say that I've always been a Valentine's Day person even though I never had a Valentine on that day.  I always got dressed up in red, brought cupcakes, gave out chocolates and made little deliveries to make other people feel special, because I like stuff like that.  Call me a hopeless romantic.

But this year was very sweet and special. There were roses and chocolates and cards involved.  But that wasn't why it was sweet and special.  It was because I realized that even though "I'm 31 and this is the first time I've been in a relationship on Valentine's Day" it doesn't matter.  Because why would I have wanted to have a variety of people that I could number off throughout the years as having been in a relationship with?  Ideally, there should be only one person.  Frankly, I only need one Valentine.  And if not having one all of the other years simply means that I had to wait for the one that is the One, then what is there to regret?

I didn't post pictures on Facebook gushing over anything.  I have this sense of wanting to preserve and protect the relationship, not flaunt it.  People who know me and love me already know.  People who don't know me/have a close relationship with me don't need to know.

I still don't know how everything is going to turn out.  I am definitely not saying this one is the One.  I don't even truly believe in the whole idea of the One, as I've iterated many times.  There are still plenty of possible complications, and I can't forget about that.  But I trust God.  That's all I can say.  And if there truly is a good thing in all of this, He won't withhold it from me.

A Day in Numbered Points

1. Got to my office hour a few minutes late.  But it was okay since I usually stay longer than an hour and no one ever comes anyway, and plus I saw a sweet Brazilian friend on the bus and got to practice my Portuguese a little.  Eu preciso practicar.

2. Got to my office and found that someone (not in our office) had sent a sizable print job to our printer multiple times, blowing up the printer cache and expending exorbitant amounts of toner and paper.  The catch?  One does not just cancel a print job.  Only the person who creates it can cancel it. I just wanna print out my lesson plan, by golly!  Had to send a helpdesk request to our resident smart aleck tech.

3. On my way to print stuff out at another printer I ran into the one I'm never prepared to see.  No way of escape.  Small talk, slightly awkward insertions (and I care about what you and your girlfriend are doing over Spring Break because...) and implications of my being able to "catch up" with him over a cup of coffee because comps are over now.  Nawl, son.  You shall receive no examples of my work, and you shall enjoy no one-on-one coffee chats with me.

4. Day improves, I start getting my little organizational ducks in a row.  Give two make up quizzes.  Post a couple of helpful items on eLC from my flash drive.  I removed it, put in in my purse, then remembered something.  I pulled it back out and reinserted it.  Oh, let me...wait.  Why isn't my office computer recognizing my flash drive?  I just used it a second ago.  That's odd.  I tried my laptop.  My laptop wouldn't recognize it either. I brought it to (another) tech guy to take a look at it.  To no avail. In an instant, my flash drive decided it was a wrap.  Oh, nooooooooo!  I'm up a creek.  Thankfully, I shared files with mi amigo since he's teaching the same class this semester and he was able to dropbox some stuff back to me.  But ugh.  Lesson of all lessons: Back yo' stuff up.

5. So I head over to the rec center for an elliptical workout with mi amigo.  And would you believe I had another one-I'm-never-prepared-to-see sighting?  Argh!  I just pretended I didn't see him.  Mi amigo was none the wiser.  How dare you be at the gym while I'm there?  I cannot have you encroaching upon my lifespace.  I cannot have it.

6.  Got an email that the University is shut down tomorrow.  And if it's shut down tomorrow, it'll definitely be shut down Wednesday.  Thin layers of snow and ice shut things down in these parts.  I'm sure my students are singing Hallelujah to the Lamb.

Three Down, None to Go

Well, hello.

I feel like I can breathe again.  I turned in my take home yesterday morning, officially ending the written part of comps.  This is the song I dedicate to comps:



Since comps has been gooooone...I can breathe for the first tiiiime!

There's still lots of work to do...a month from now, there's an oral defense.  And then I have to submit my prospectus.  And then I have to defend it...like I said, there's still lots of work to do.  But I feel like a weight has been lifted.  I've met a major milestone, and it's kind of amazing.

I'm so thankful.  All of this time, just fretting about comps, wondering how I was going to ever get through it, and now, here I am.  (Just about) on the other side.

Upcoming:

1. A bilingual reading with an Argentine writer.  Guess who's reading the English version?

2. A Valentine's Day in a situation of mutual like.  For the first time.  And I'm wearing my frilly red dress.  Guess what his favorite color is?

3. A post-Valentine's Day departmental talent show.  Guess who's playing the guitar?

This is the first weekend in a long time that I'm spending without doing one drop of work.  Sigh.  Enjoying it while I can!

I can't believe

1. how fast this program has gone so far.  I remember when I moved here.  I remember my first day of class when I had no idea what I was doing.  Now, here I am, 3/4ths done with this thing.

2. how non-stressful comps has been so far.  Anytime I mention to one of my colleagues that I'm in the midst of comps, they gasp as if I should be wholly incapacitated or something.  But it's gone rather smoothly and non-dramatically.  I am so not complaining.

3. how well things are going despite the possible complications of this relationship.  It's humbling and amazing to see God work in the life of someone who is truly seeking after Him.  I kept questioning myself.  I still do.  But I guess I'm more sure now that God really is in control.

Two Down, One to Go

So, I took my second in-house comp exam today.  Period: Contemporary.  Same drill as last time.  Made an outline, wrote for four hours (time flies when you're typing), done.

The last stage in this process is my take-home.  My major professor is giving me a few days to breathe, so she's waiting to give me my questions on Friday.  On Friday, we will meet, she will give me my questions, and then I'll have two weeks to write 15-20 pages answering both questions.

If it sounds like a lot, it's really not.  It's about the length of an average term paper.  And I've written that much in much less time.  So, it can be done.

It's still substantial work, but it'll be much more chill.  I will get to do a little outside research, I will have everything I need to write at my disposal.  It's just a matter of doing it.

Another Comps Post

My second in-house comp exam is Tuesday.  I have a nice long weekend to do any final preparations.  

I had a meeting with the professor who will be administering this particular test earlier this week.  She's wonderful, although she may not be the most organized professor ever.  She totally made me feel at ease about the upcoming test.  She was like, I haven't written the question yet, but it's going to include themes like blah, blah, blah, I'm not going to limit it to any specific works, so you can talk about what you want, there will be no surprises...all you have to do is write it.

That's fabulous.  I mean, I don't have to stress about whatever it is on my list I haven't read in its entirety yet.  She's basically like, just write about whatever you want.  Brilliant.  It's great to not be a huge, teeming stress ball, but in a way, her reassurance has made me feel more lax.  On a day that I should be conscientiously preparing, I'm feeling kind of spacy.  I'm at a coffee shop.  By the window.  I'm (supposed to be) skimming through articles and previous papers I've written for this professor's class to help me organize my ideas, but here I am, daydreaming and mind wandering on my blog.

 

I emailed my professor who wrote the questions for my previous exam about something unrelated and in her reply, she offhandedly mentioned that my exam was "well done."  It made my day.

I constantly fight to resist my urge to control.  To try to figure it all out.  You think I would have learned by now that it's impossible.  It's so hard for me to let go and trust.

All I can think about is how I'm going to finish this program.  Where I'm going to end up.  How things are going to end up.  I looked out the window and saw a family crossing the street.  The dad had a little girl by the hand and the mom had a little baby swaddled up against her in one of those sling things.  I thought about my hypothetical daughter.  And would you believe she already has a name?  Violet.

I have more pressing things to do than ruminate over my hypothetical little girl.  I have to study.  I have to finish this other dissertation fellowship application.  Since I've already applied to one, this one shouldn't be too difficult.  Just tweak some things and keep it moving. 

Sigh.  Gotta snap out of it.  

One Down, Two to Go

So, I took my first comprehensive exam today.  Genre: poetry.  Open up an envelope.  Take out the questions your professor has carefully crafted.  Choose one.  Write for 4 hours.  Save it on a flash drive.  Be done.

I mean, I guess I felt prepared.  There were no surprises.  I won't say it's the most stellar thing I've ever written in Spanish, but I feel like I answered the question.  I wasn't super stressed.  Like, I was almost scared at how non-stressed I was.  Almost like, shouldn't I be more worried?

I'm not saying I didn't take it seriously.  Just sat down, made my little outline, and got to work.  The 4 hours really flew by.

One more four-hour in-house, then a two-week-long take-home. ¡Sí, se puede!

Tomorrow

marks the day I take my first comprehensive exam.

At this point, it is what it is.  I feel that I should have prepared more intensely, but I cannot say that I am unprepared.

I can't believe it.  I've been complaining about it and talking about it and fretting about it and obsessing about it for months, and now, at long last, it is upon me.

I take another one next Tuesday, and after I complete that one, I will have a "take home" that I will have two weeks to complete.  Once I turn that sucka in Feb 4th, then I will be able to breathe.  (A little bit.)

1. A month after I turn in my take home = oral comps defense
2. Two weeks after oral comps defense = prospectus submission
3. A month after prospectus submission = prospectus defense
4. Successful prospectus defense = ABD.  All But Dissertation.

So, if I do everything I'm supposed to do, I'll be ABD by April.  Then the real fun begins.

Semesterly Life

One of the things I love about being a student, and I guess just about being in the teaching profession and academia overall is the idea of a new life every semester.

Every semester, your life gets a new little schedule, you see new little faces and you get to start afresh.  Set the right tone, set the right expectations, get off on the right foot.  I love that feeling.

This morning I got up and said, I'm going to do this right.

I put on a particularly professorial looking ensemble because I like to look extra professorly the first day.  An argyle sweater over a collared shirt and whatnot.  I love the look on their faces when I introduce myself as a 3rd year PhD.  I'd like to think it's because they think I look young.  I think I have another good group.

This semester, particularly this month, is going to be intense.  I should be flipping out right now, but hey, it is what it is, comps are coming up starting next week whether I'm ready or not, so I just have to buckle down.  I finally got that dissertation fellowship application sent off.  One of my committee members who wrote me a recommendation said she wrote me "a very strong letter."  It felt good to finally cast that bread out into the waters.  Shall it return to me after many days?  Time will tell.  There's one more I'm applying for due next month.  I can just tweak the stuff I wrote for the last one, so it shouldn't be too difficult.  Vamos a ver.

I have to stay focused.  "You'll be fine," he said.  "You're smart and you're hardworking and you're going to dominate it.  You just have to keep your focus."  Well, thanks for believing in me.  "And not get distracted," I added.  "Especially by you."  We laughed, but I was only half kidding.  Don't distract me, bro.

2014: I Will Speak Life

Death and life are in the power of the tongue (Proverbs 18:21).

I've resolved to speak life this year.

Today's only the second day of the new year, and I've already caught myself breaking my resolution.

What I realize is that I allow a whole lot of negative, cynical things to come out of my mouth.  What comes out of your mouth is what you accept as true.  And what you accept as true is what you believe.  And what you believe is what you will act upon.  And what you act upon is what determines your life.  Or death.

This year, I want to make a conscious effort to speak life.  Speak positive, encouraging, uplifting things.  Speak from a place of confidence in God.  Speak from a place of assurance in my identity in Christ.  Speak from a place of faith, not fear.

It's harder than it seems.  Just today, I was toiling away at this dissertation fellowship application, and I said, "I am way in over my head on this one."  But no.  I remembered my resolution and said, "But I'm going to do it anyway."  It's worth it.  I am qualified.  I was encouraged to go for it and I am going to follow through.

I'm tired of negative thoughts reigning in my mind and allowing them to come into existence by speaking them out loud.  It truly is a trend I want to reverse.

When the new semester starts in a few days, I'm going to have to hit the ground running.  It's going to be very intense.  There are still so many unknowns.  But I must remember to speak life in the midst of the intensity and in the midst of the unknown.

I had a little side resolution last year that I want to embark upon again this year and that is to learn something new.  Some new skill or talent.  Last year, it was gardening.  This year I think it's going to be knitting.  I've always wanted to learn how to knit.

For the longest time, I've been sort of taken with the idea that maybe one day I would inspire something creative. I've always wanted someone to write a song about me.  Well, I listened to it today.

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.

The Process

"It's a process."

It seems like this has been my mantra for a while.  It's a process.  You can't rush it, you can't foreknow it, you can't control every aspect of it.  Sometimes it (whatever it is) just has to be and it just has to be allowed to develop, if it is meant to develop, according to God's will.

I'm in the midst of a development that has taken me a little by surprise, frankly.  All I can say is this: I have been honest and upfront from the beginning, and the other person has expressed a willingness and openness to learn about and experience aspects of what makes me who I am that are important to me.

I'll just leave it at that, because that's really all it is for now.

I am hesitant because I don't know how things are going to unfold and I don't want anyone to get hurt.

All I know is that I must stay true to myself.  It's the only way I'll truly be happy, and I know that I am and will be respected for that.

(Sigh.)  Personal life issues are not the only little chunk of my life that is in process.  Take this PhD program, for starters.  I am trying not to hyperventilate over comps.  I know I mention something about comps every time I post a new blog entry.  But it's looming over me and no matter how I slice it, I don't feel prepared.  But God is greater than my feelings of inadequacy, and I just have to do what I can to move forward.

I know I'll eventually "come out on the other side."  I look forward to the day that I can say that I finally have.

It Is What It Is

This post is for my mother and for my best friend, two people who are highly supportive of me, but who are also very truthful with me.

I don't know how to express how important it is to have people like this in your life.  I am so grateful for them because I know that everything they say comes from a loving, godly, honest place, even if it's something I don't want to hear.  At the end of the day, it is what it is, and I have to be willing to accept it and be honest with myself about my shortcomings if I am ever to move forward and be consistent and live an overcoming life.

I am in a unique place in my life that sets me apart.  I can either lament it or embrace it.  I can either use it as an excuse or see it as an asset.

I have to be honest and say that there are things about myself that I highly dislike.  Tears well up if I dwell on them too long.  But I am stuck with being me.  And that's okay.

Dates

No . . . not the kind of dates a single gal like me would (like to) go on.  lol. Dates, as in calendar days set in stone.  For comps.

(Sigh.)  I'm supposed to be reading poetry right now in preparation for said comps whose dates are dangerously near.  But in a way, it's comforting because it's like, okay, I have these concrete little markers fixed in time that will come and come to pass, ready or not.  I hope it's the former.

I need to be more settled, more grounded, more focused.  It's not to say that I'm not at all.  But there's something about setting the dates that has made me feel less anxious.

Okay, there's some other stuff I need to suss out (with full awareness of the possible land mine this blog can be.  I write with the 90% surety that no inappropriate eyes are reading this, yet with the other 10% made up of not caring whether said inappropriate eyes were to read it).

1. Just when I get to the point of "being done," phone calls out of the blue.  Is it a coincidence?  A recognizance of the shift in my regard?  Is it a switch flipping and a final realization that things really are never going back to the way they were?  Is it believing that a "crisis" is the only justifiable way to communicate with me? Regardless, let me say this: I am SO glad those curled up in a fetal position in my fluffy pink robe, crying and trying to comfort myself with straight up Nutella because of this days are over.  And I'm not going back to them.  (I will, however, continue to eat straight up Nutella whenever I see fit.)

2. Something that has connected me with, er, "unlikely" others has been playing the guitar.  You may not connect with someone profoundly in any other way, but if you overlap in a creative arena, somehow things just jibe.  Nevertheless, I still find myself asking why.  I mean, I've always been a person who gets along with a wide cross-section of people, and it's great.  But I still wonder, like, how is it that some people that I never thought would be interested in a friendship with me somehow are?  I know that's silly.  I guess that feeling speaks more to preconceptions I have of other people than conceptions people may or may not have of me.  In short, I've recently found myself in the thick of a whirlwind guitarship.

Close/Open

What I think I'm starting to see is that when you finally decide that you're done with a situation and you mean it, you allow yourself to be open to positive interactions with others.

I feel like I'm finally to a point where I realize that I've had enough of dealing with someone in a certain way.  I feel like I'm just done.  I don't mean it harshly.  I do care about him and his family.  If he truly needed anything, he knows I would be there for him.  But other than that, I simply cannot and will not voluntarily open myself up again or give any more than I already have.

I happened to run into him this weekend and, naturally, it was a little awkward.  Before we parted ways, he said, "Call me soon," and then looked at me for affirmation.  I nodded, mainly because I was a little caught off guard and it was my immediate reaction, but I never did call him.  And why should I?  What would I say?  And if he had something to say, why shouldn't he call me?  That's the kind of stuff I'm talking about.

Anyway.  Once I made the decision to purposefully and seriously limit my interaction with someone, I found myself beginning to cultivate relationships and make connections with other people.  I've spent time with colleagues who have helped me stay on track and have gotten me involved in activities that are beneficial for me academically.  I have tried to mentor and be a resource to new colleagues who are just starting out in the program who could use advice and moral support.  I have had colleagues come to church with me.  I have connected with musically inclined people and feel like maybe I'm progressing with playing the guitar again.

I still feel woefully behind in preparation for comps.  I don't know if I'll ever feel ready.  But I'm determined to do what I need to do and I'm going to enjoy the rewarding, exciting feeling that comes from opening yourself up to new (and old) people.