On the website for my former graduate program, there is a listing of grad students and their areas of study. My name and focus are still displayed there.
Yesterday, a prospective graduate student emailed me, wanting to know my impression of the program.
What do I tell her? If I answer, I have to start by saying that I left the program. I left for a lot of reasons, and only some of them are department-related.
Even though I'm sure it would be useful to her to hear what I have to say, I'm tempted to simply refer her to current students/alum. Maybe there's a part of me that isn't quite ready to admit all the reasons I left, even to myself.
Friday, April 30, 2004
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
Because Chryssi asked...
5 things I love doing: (in no order)
- writing
- reading
- hiking
- running
- yoga
5 things I want to achieve in my life: (in no order)
- own my own bookstore/coffee shop
- qualify for, and run, Boston marathon
- hike Appalachian Trail
- write a novel (don't care if I publish it)
- be the best friend/ daughter/sister/cousin/niece/granddaughter/etc. that I
can be
And you?
5 things I love doing: (in no order)
- writing
- reading
- hiking
- running
- yoga
5 things I want to achieve in my life: (in no order)
- own my own bookstore/coffee shop
- qualify for, and run, Boston marathon
- hike Appalachian Trail
- write a novel (don't care if I publish it)
- be the best friend/ daughter/sister/cousin/niece/granddaughter/etc. that I
can be
And you?
Monday, April 26, 2004
Going back to work today was tough, not just because I was ridiculously tired and had a mountain of paperwork waiting for me. I spent the whole weekend doing thinking, talking, and even dreaming, about nothing but running. Well, running and eating. And suddenly, I had to go back into the real world where people talk about other things. I liked the fake world better.
Sunday, April 25, 2004
If I ever complained about training, I take it all back. It was worth every mile I pounded on the asphalt, gravel, or treadmill. And I am now convinced that speed workout, hill repeats, and strength training will just make it all the better.
My official half-marathon time: 2 hours, 4 minutes, and 55 seconds.
That means that I averaged 9:32 a mile. Three months ago I had trouble running one mile at that pace. I am SO excited to run Chicago now! And I have five-and-a-half months to train. (And some more races in there-- Soldier Field 10-mile, Chicago Distance Classic 1/2 marathon)
I'm sure I'll have more to say. At the moment I'm exhusted.
My official half-marathon time: 2 hours, 4 minutes, and 55 seconds.
That means that I averaged 9:32 a mile. Three months ago I had trouble running one mile at that pace. I am SO excited to run Chicago now! And I have five-and-a-half months to train. (And some more races in there-- Soldier Field 10-mile, Chicago Distance Classic 1/2 marathon)
I'm sure I'll have more to say. At the moment I'm exhusted.
Wednesday, April 21, 2004
If my site hadn't crashed, you'd know that in about 58 hours I'll be running 13.1 miles. Yay!
It's Administrative Professionals Day, but only Laz sent a card. No one in my office said anything at all, and damn they had a lot of "urgent" requests today. Being a secretary (and yes, I'm a secretary, not an administrative assistant) should not be this stressful.
I need to consume more calories daily. But that costs money that I don't have. Humph. Ideas? (And meat is expensive and that suggestion would fall on deaf ears anyway!)
It's Administrative Professionals Day, but only Laz sent a card. No one in my office said anything at all, and damn they had a lot of "urgent" requests today. Being a secretary (and yes, I'm a secretary, not an administrative assistant) should not be this stressful.
I need to consume more calories daily. But that costs money that I don't have. Humph. Ideas? (And meat is expensive and that suggestion would fall on deaf ears anyway!)
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Monday, April 19, 2004
Sunday, April 18, 2004
A few weeks ago, my mother told someone that I was the writer in the family. I quickly corrected her. I write; I am not a writer.
I feel the same way about running. I ran 10 miles today. I'm running in a half marathon next weekend. But I am not a runner.
Where is the distinction? I suppose with writing it's easier to see. I don't publish the vast majority of what I write, and I don't write for anyone but myself. But how does that translate to running? True, I don't make a living by running, but few people do. So at what point do I get to call myself a runner? After I finish this half marathon, or the Chicago Marathon in October? After I've been running consistently for 5 or 10 years? After I win a race?
Maybe the reason I have trouble identifying with what I do is that I change interests so often. My mother always joked that I was jack of all trades and master of none, and my parents instituted a rule when I was little that I had to stick with my activities for at least a year. And while I've just finished a 12-week training course and have every intention of training for Chicago and later races, past history would suggest that I may not keep running forever.
So, for now, I run.
I feel the same way about running. I ran 10 miles today. I'm running in a half marathon next weekend. But I am not a runner.
Where is the distinction? I suppose with writing it's easier to see. I don't publish the vast majority of what I write, and I don't write for anyone but myself. But how does that translate to running? True, I don't make a living by running, but few people do. So at what point do I get to call myself a runner? After I finish this half marathon, or the Chicago Marathon in October? After I've been running consistently for 5 or 10 years? After I win a race?
Maybe the reason I have trouble identifying with what I do is that I change interests so often. My mother always joked that I was jack of all trades and master of none, and my parents instituted a rule when I was little that I had to stick with my activities for at least a year. And while I've just finished a 12-week training course and have every intention of training for Chicago and later races, past history would suggest that I may not keep running forever.
So, for now, I run.
Friday, April 16, 2004
Lesson learned today: If you need to ask a random stranger to help you jump your car, it doesn't hurt to wear a short skirt and play up the dumb blond factor.
Fun license plate seen today: "U Go God," on a silver Honda Civic with a spoiler that was pulled over by a cop a minute after cutting me off.
Good(ish) news heard today: The woman whose job I have may actually decide not to return from maternity leave.
Fun license plate seen today: "U Go God," on a silver Honda Civic with a spoiler that was pulled over by a cop a minute after cutting me off.
Good(ish) news heard today: The woman whose job I have may actually decide not to return from maternity leave.
Thursday, April 15, 2004
Eulogy for my grandfather, given at his funeral on April 14
In the past few months when I would tell my friends about Granddad’s illness, they would invariably ask me if I was close to Granddad. I had a lot of trouble answering them in a way they could understand. I have always felt extremely close to Granddad, but it’s not because we had long, intense discussions or shared secrets. Rather, that closeness came from the knowledge that Granddad would always be there if I needed him, that he’d always support me and love me, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with or understand what I was headed off to do. And I hope that he knew we’d always be there for him, too, as we all tried to be in the end. Whenever we would hug and say goodbye, as I would leave for California or Chicago, I knew that Granddad would miss me, but that he was proud of me for following my dreams. It wasn’t something he always said; it was something I could feel.
That closeness I felt was also a recognition of our similarities. It’s not difficult to see something of Granddad in every one of his children and grandchildren. There are the obvious personality traits-- many of us are quiet, strong, intelligent, independent, and yes, very stubborn.
But more important, I think, are the values that Granddad taught to all of us. I asked my brother, Brian, a few weeks ago for his fondest memory of Granddad. He laughed and said he always thought back to the Easter eggs hunts. Every year on Easter Granddad would hide plastic eggs around the yard for his five grandchildren to find. Once we found the eggs we could take them to the Bank of Granddad and cash in the eggs for shiny quarters. The Easter eggs hunt wasn’t a race; it wasn’t a reward for aggressive behavior. Instead, it was an opportunity to experience the thrill of discovery. As the oldest I always wanted to run out and find the most eggs, but Granddad insisted on fairness. I may find my eggs first, but I could find no more than my fair share. As a result, once I found my eggs, I always went back and help my brother and younger cousins. Granddad could’ve fostered our competitive spirits, but he chose instead to impart far more worthy values.
I’m sure that each of the grandchildren has particular memories of Granddad and particular values they learned from him, and I don’t pretend to be able to completely represent everyone’s views. But there is one way in which Granddad’s teaching profoundly influenced my life, and a way in which I know his legacy will live on through all of us. My favorite memories of Granddad always take place outdoors and are often active. I distinctly remember getting my first, and only, black eye when Granddad tried to teach me to catch pop flies. I never really mastered that move, but I have continued to love baseball to this day. Even better though were the times we went camping and canoeing, or walking in the park to feed the birds.
When my youngest cousin, Becky, was sixteen, she wrote a poem for school in which she spoke of how much she always loved spending time outdoors with Granddad, except perhaps when she got her first, and only, goose bite. Here is a section of Becky’s poem:
Taking a break to stroll through the park with popcorn in our hands to feed the ducks,
Then dashing across the bridge to the playground,
So I could whoosh down the slide.
Going on vacation,
Standing on the bridge, throwing down pieces of bread to the fish,
Wishing I could throw them up to the seagulls in the sky just like my grandpa,
Going to the petting zoo to feed the baby animals a bottle of milk.
The days of a child,
The days I thought would never end.
From Granddad all his grandchildren developed a strong love of nature and of being outdoors, a recognition of the beauty around us and the bond we have with the animal and plant life around us.
And we always celebrated that bond on a camping trips. I think that camping especially was a fitting activity for Granddad’s personality, and for mine. Camping tests your ability to take care of yourself, as you can’t always count on someone else being there to help out. And yet, what Granddad loved about camping was the people he met, the lasting friendships that he and Grandma formed with their camping friends. Granddad had a profound respect for these friends who also loved the outdoors, and who were just as independent, just as able to fend for themselves. I think it is due to that mutual respect that campers form such intense bonds with each other and are so willing to help each other out when help is truly needed.
Every time I go camping or canoeing, every time I watch the ducks swimming in the pond, I will remember how much Granddad loved to do those same things, and I will know that he’s not really gone. He’s living on through the legacy he imparted to his family.
In the past few months when I would tell my friends about Granddad’s illness, they would invariably ask me if I was close to Granddad. I had a lot of trouble answering them in a way they could understand. I have always felt extremely close to Granddad, but it’s not because we had long, intense discussions or shared secrets. Rather, that closeness came from the knowledge that Granddad would always be there if I needed him, that he’d always support me and love me, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with or understand what I was headed off to do. And I hope that he knew we’d always be there for him, too, as we all tried to be in the end. Whenever we would hug and say goodbye, as I would leave for California or Chicago, I knew that Granddad would miss me, but that he was proud of me for following my dreams. It wasn’t something he always said; it was something I could feel.
That closeness I felt was also a recognition of our similarities. It’s not difficult to see something of Granddad in every one of his children and grandchildren. There are the obvious personality traits-- many of us are quiet, strong, intelligent, independent, and yes, very stubborn.
But more important, I think, are the values that Granddad taught to all of us. I asked my brother, Brian, a few weeks ago for his fondest memory of Granddad. He laughed and said he always thought back to the Easter eggs hunts. Every year on Easter Granddad would hide plastic eggs around the yard for his five grandchildren to find. Once we found the eggs we could take them to the Bank of Granddad and cash in the eggs for shiny quarters. The Easter eggs hunt wasn’t a race; it wasn’t a reward for aggressive behavior. Instead, it was an opportunity to experience the thrill of discovery. As the oldest I always wanted to run out and find the most eggs, but Granddad insisted on fairness. I may find my eggs first, but I could find no more than my fair share. As a result, once I found my eggs, I always went back and help my brother and younger cousins. Granddad could’ve fostered our competitive spirits, but he chose instead to impart far more worthy values.
I’m sure that each of the grandchildren has particular memories of Granddad and particular values they learned from him, and I don’t pretend to be able to completely represent everyone’s views. But there is one way in which Granddad’s teaching profoundly influenced my life, and a way in which I know his legacy will live on through all of us. My favorite memories of Granddad always take place outdoors and are often active. I distinctly remember getting my first, and only, black eye when Granddad tried to teach me to catch pop flies. I never really mastered that move, but I have continued to love baseball to this day. Even better though were the times we went camping and canoeing, or walking in the park to feed the birds.
When my youngest cousin, Becky, was sixteen, she wrote a poem for school in which she spoke of how much she always loved spending time outdoors with Granddad, except perhaps when she got her first, and only, goose bite. Here is a section of Becky’s poem:
Taking a break to stroll through the park with popcorn in our hands to feed the ducks,
Then dashing across the bridge to the playground,
So I could whoosh down the slide.
Going on vacation,
Standing on the bridge, throwing down pieces of bread to the fish,
Wishing I could throw them up to the seagulls in the sky just like my grandpa,
Going to the petting zoo to feed the baby animals a bottle of milk.
The days of a child,
The days I thought would never end.
From Granddad all his grandchildren developed a strong love of nature and of being outdoors, a recognition of the beauty around us and the bond we have with the animal and plant life around us.
And we always celebrated that bond on a camping trips. I think that camping especially was a fitting activity for Granddad’s personality, and for mine. Camping tests your ability to take care of yourself, as you can’t always count on someone else being there to help out. And yet, what Granddad loved about camping was the people he met, the lasting friendships that he and Grandma formed with their camping friends. Granddad had a profound respect for these friends who also loved the outdoors, and who were just as independent, just as able to fend for themselves. I think it is due to that mutual respect that campers form such intense bonds with each other and are so willing to help each other out when help is truly needed.
Every time I go camping or canoeing, every time I watch the ducks swimming in the pond, I will remember how much Granddad loved to do those same things, and I will know that he’s not really gone. He’s living on through the legacy he imparted to his family.
Thursday, April 08, 2004
Grumble, grumble, taxes. I'm getting a refund, but there are stupid little things I need that are back in my apartment. I just want to file and be done. Grumble, grumble.
If everything remains the same, I may go back to my apartment, work, etc next week. Of course, no one can tell me whether things will remain the same or not. The nurses and doctors keep saying just a few days, but I'm convinced they don't know anything (and they aren't there, so they're basing this on second-hand info).
Meanwhile I'm going a bit stir-crazy, and I haven't had a good run since last Friday, which is somewhat frightening since my race is in 15 DAYS!
Surreal moment of yesterday: helping Grandma pick out clothes in which to bury Granddad, while he's still alive a floor below us.
Obviously I'm having a bit of trouble focusing at the moment. Even Granddad said yesterday, "I'm tired of waiting for this to happen." Of course, he's a bit delusional at the moment and could have been referring to World War 2 or something.
I wrote the beginnings of a eulogy yesterday. I may post it when I'm done because I won't be giving it at the funeral.
I'm sure I'm making it sound like it's all gloom and doom here, but we do have some light and fun moments. And we've been laughing a lot. It would be too hard if we weren't.
If everything remains the same, I may go back to my apartment, work, etc next week. Of course, no one can tell me whether things will remain the same or not. The nurses and doctors keep saying just a few days, but I'm convinced they don't know anything (and they aren't there, so they're basing this on second-hand info).
Meanwhile I'm going a bit stir-crazy, and I haven't had a good run since last Friday, which is somewhat frightening since my race is in 15 DAYS!
Surreal moment of yesterday: helping Grandma pick out clothes in which to bury Granddad, while he's still alive a floor below us.
Obviously I'm having a bit of trouble focusing at the moment. Even Granddad said yesterday, "I'm tired of waiting for this to happen." Of course, he's a bit delusional at the moment and could have been referring to World War 2 or something.
I wrote the beginnings of a eulogy yesterday. I may post it when I'm done because I won't be giving it at the funeral.
I'm sure I'm making it sound like it's all gloom and doom here, but we do have some light and fun moments. And we've been laughing a lot. It would be too hard if we weren't.
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
I'm in Ohio. Made it "in time" to see Granddad. He's still hanging in there, too stubborn to let go (yes, now you know where I get it from). The family's all gathered now, and it's basically just a matter of waiting. We all have our moments when it's just all too sad to deal with, but for the most part I think we're ok. I have a lot of thoughts I want to get down on paper, but I'm having lots of trouble concentrating these days, so those might take a while. I have a fair amount of free time at the moment, and email and phone access, so don't be strangers (unless you are a stranger, in which case you should probably stay that way!)
Sunday, April 04, 2004
Things that make me happy:
- Fun weddings
- Amazing friends
- Vegetarian options
- Dancing with friends and strangers
- Drinking with my friends' parents :)
- Lots and lots of hugs
- Being the sketchy bridesmaid wearing hiking socks, dragging strangers onto the dance floor, and drinking beer out of the bottle
- Funny rabbis whose translate Hebrew prayers to be gender inclusive
- Hair and makeup that stay put for 14+ hours
- Open bars
- The view from the 66th floor of the Sears Tower
- Hailing a cab in a bridesmaid dress
- Going to brunch with hair and makeup more or less intact, still carrying bouquets
Things that make me sad:
- Saying goodbye to friends who are leaving town
- Driving home to say goodbye to my granddad forever and not knowing if I'll make it there in time
I will be at my parents' house for an indefinite period of time. I don't know if I'll be posting, but I will be checking email.
- Fun weddings
- Amazing friends
- Vegetarian options
- Dancing with friends and strangers
- Drinking with my friends' parents :)
- Lots and lots of hugs
- Being the sketchy bridesmaid wearing hiking socks, dragging strangers onto the dance floor, and drinking beer out of the bottle
- Funny rabbis whose translate Hebrew prayers to be gender inclusive
- Hair and makeup that stay put for 14+ hours
- Open bars
- The view from the 66th floor of the Sears Tower
- Hailing a cab in a bridesmaid dress
- Going to brunch with hair and makeup more or less intact, still carrying bouquets
Things that make me sad:
- Saying goodbye to friends who are leaving town
- Driving home to say goodbye to my granddad forever and not knowing if I'll make it there in time
I will be at my parents' house for an indefinite period of time. I don't know if I'll be posting, but I will be checking email.
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