Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Like this one:
I've been offered a job, which is truly a great blessing and for which I'm truly grateful. It's mine for the taking; no more worrying about whether I'll get a job or starve to death for the rest of my natural born life. It's in research, which is a great platform from which to move into a doctoral program. And, it's only a 1 year position. So, I put a year in and I move on. I kind of like that idea.
So, what's the problem?
I'm glad you asked!
1. It's as a research coordinator and it has the chance of turning into more of a secretary-like position than allowing me to do any real research.
2. It's about 2 hours away from my family.
3. It doesn't pay well. At all. Especially with an $800/month student loan payment to consider.
What's a girl to do? Well, let's further complicate the picture :(
1. If I accept that position, they want me to start on 6/1. I don't want to start on 6/1. I'd have to take 6/4-6/8 off (they know this) for graduation (it's a three day affair) and travel (eight hours each way).
2. I have three other interviews scheduled for next week. With school districts. Teaching positions. They have their pros/cons as well, the biggest being that it's not a good platform from which to apply for a doctoral program (my ultimate goal, despite the student loan debt situation).
So, the dilemma is that the schools (if they make offers--and that's a big if) won't do so until mid-June, at the earliest. Too late to fall back on the research job if I'm not hired.
You know how people claim that they knew what to do because "God spoke to them..." or "God led them to...?" Well, that's never happened to me. I always feel like God's saying, "This one's on you kid, don't screw it up." Which leaves me with a decision to make.
Um, so, if God speaks to you anytime soon, could you ask Him what I'm supposed to do, too?
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
She's been a great housemate (when she's not biting me) and it's been wonderful to come home to her rather than an empty apartment in the evenings (even is she does immediately demand dinner and then forget I'm home).
Yesterday, though, I realized that she wasn't feeling well. Not sick, mind you. But not well. She was mewing--a lot. Something she never does. And she was doing this funny "gotta rub my stomach on the carpet" dance.
So I did what any child of the 80's does when he/she doesn't know what to do; I called my mom. "Mom," I said, "KKM isn't feeling well."
"What's wrong with her?" she asked.
"Well, I'm not sure."
"Well, do you want to take her to the vet?"
"No," I sighed (knowing full well I just didn't want to spend the money). "She's just talking a lot and rubbing on everything and she's just acting weird."
"Oh, I know what's wrong." My mother, being quick about these things and owning a farm and everything, said, "she's in heat."
I think my reply was something along the lines of, "wonderful," but not so articulate.
So, here she lies, incessantly crying and giving me the "come hither and mate me" look every five minutes.
It's going to be a long week.
*On a more positive note, I finished my last requirement for my master's degree today! Yeah me!*
Sunday, May 13, 2007
He's a miniature horse and a dwarf; therefore, he's about the size of my labrador. But he doesn't know that.
He loves to play with the "big" horses.
That's Phoenix sniffing at Timmy. When they're outside together, Phoenix will put his head down like this and Timmy will grab on to his halter with his teeth. Then Phoenix will throw his head up and Timmy will go for a ride~about four feet off the ground!
Timmy won't take a lot of Phoenix's bullying, though. He prefers to chase the big horses around the pasture, despite having been kicked on more than one occasion.
Phoenix loves Timmy. And if it weren't for mom, he'd be the only one that does.
I had an internship this year that involved working with two other students from my master's program. One ("Jane") was a great role-model, as a clinician, as a mother, and as a person. The other ("George"), missed more meetings than he attended, took credit for work he didn't do, and made comments that were both sexist and racist.
It made for some interesting times.
On Thursday evening, after hearing George boast about how much he had learned from doing a project that Jane and I had done without his help and how he doesn't "work well in groups and could have accomplished so much more on [his] own," I had endured enough. I wrote George an E-mail, telling him that I found his behavior to be despicable and that it was wrong for him to be so unmeritly pompous. I also told him that I hoped he would find time in life to reflect on the kind of teammate and academic that he wished to become and I wished him well in his future endeavors.
He forwarded the E-mail to our three supervisors and to Jane, along with a reply of his own. He spoke about how he had "real" experience in the world and that I was just too young and "stupid" to understand his greatness and the irreplaceable and unmatchable wisdom he brought to our group. He called my writing, "less analytic than it is entertaining" and proceeded to instruct the others to grab "a popcorn and pop" as they read my rebuke of him. "Trust me," he said, "you'll need it."
While I am not suprised that George decided to take the route that he did, criticizing the merits of my words without addressing his own behaviors or refutting the claims that I made, I am left wondering how you work with someone who clearly has narcisstic features. Surely, it's not a lost cause, is it?
And, if it unfortunately is, how do you brush aside the pain that the words of such a person can cause? Because let me tell you, I've been hurting all weekend.
Despite the pain his E-mail caused me, I was able to formulate a reply to him. It follows in its entirety here:
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring with a great way to supplement your library rather cheaply.
As an English teacher, I'm always on the lookout for adolescent literature with which I can stock my (future) clasroom. A few years ago, my parents discovered that there is a Scholastic warehouse in the city closest to our home that has semi-annual inventory sales. Since that discovery, every year around Christmas (and around one of their sales) we take a trip into the city to visit the store and I get to pick out books for my classroom. My parents are great to take along because their interests vary from mine and I end up with a wide variety of books, many that I never would have looked at on my own. As a perk, my parents often set a pre-established spending limit and we consider this one of my Christmas gifts!
So, to sum up, a cheap and wonderful way to supplement your library [or your child(ren)'s library], is to look into book warehouses near where you live and whether they ever have inventory sales that are open to the public.
Head on over to Rocks in My Dryer for more wonderful Works for Me Wednesday ideas!
I AM: one of God's children.
I WANT: a bloodhound puppy. But you knew that already, didn't you?
I WISH: I felt more comfortable sharing the news of the Lord with people.
I HATE: the way I feel when I know I've given less than my best.
I MISS: my family. There's nothing so hard as to talk to them on the phone and know they are having a wonderful time without me.
I FEAR: my student loan payments. Seriously.
I HEAR: my neighbors stomping around upstairs, which is strange because it's still quite early for them.
I WONDER: if I'll ever learn how to love and be loved.
I REGRET: too many things to list.
I AM NOT: as smart as people think I am. Never underestimate the power of hard work.
I DANCE: never. Ever. End of story.
I SING: when I know no one is listening.
I CRY: more often than I care to admit.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: patient. Or kind. I need to work on that.
I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: messes. The kind that I then have to clean up.
I WRITE: papers about educational theory and risk and resilience.
I CONFUSE: myself. Quite often. I'm really indecisive.
I NEED: to start going to the gym again.
I START: arguments with people I love when I am tired or lonely.
I FINISH: graduate school on Tuesday. It's amazing. Really.
I TAG: anyone who stumbles across this site. And I thank Lots of Scotts for the opportunity to play.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
however many students per program...."
At which point...well I'm sure you can imagine what would've happened to the poor graduate student who couldn't divide 900 by 30.
Monday, May 7, 2007
But until next Tuesday, the fruits of my labor will continue to consist of papers, presentations, and exam grades.
What a life.
Here's hoping the next five years make good use of the past five.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
My parents said I could have one once I graduated from college. I achieved that goal last year.
In all fairness, I did go on to graduate school and this city is no place for a big dog.
I have a cat; her name is Kitty Kick Me (KKM).
My dad named her.
Bored? Check Blogger.
Eyes tired? Check Blogger.
Kitty Kick Me just bit you on the leg? Check Blogger.
On page 12 of 15 of that term paper and you just can't process any more? Check Blogger
Sick of reading 300 pages of technical terms and worthless theories? Check Blogger.
Better, I suppose, than checking everyone else's blogs 15 times a day. It's a wonder they didn't think you were a stalker.