Under normal circumstances, I have an attention span that falls somewhere between small furry animal and hyperactive toddler. Unless I'm really into something, I tend not to stick around that long; but when I'm into something, I'm really into it. Right now I'm really into Native American Studies. Do yourself a favor. Don't ask me about the Lakota or post-colonialism, or (as Christianchick found yesterday) Pocahontas. You won't be going anywhere for a while if you do. In early December, I was really into the idea of crocheting a blanket for my friend. We'll call him (the friend, not the blanket) S, for I am a Blogger and get to refer to people as amusing pseudonyms.
I think I have found my Moby Dick. Seriously.
This thing might just well be the death of me. Realizing my attention span, I usually keep to crocheting scarves. Maybe a potholder. Small things, easily finished or cast aside. The Blanket (and yes, it merits the capital letter) was supposed to be a Christmas present. S is getting married in August; if he's lucky, the Blanket will be a wedding present, if he isn't, we're looking at having it finished sometime before his first kid is born (which, lord willing, will be quite a ways in the future). I crocheted furiously all through dead week and finals week and the first week I was at my Girl's apartment in the Frozen North...and then I forgot about it. Until today. It's coming to work with me. Hopefully I will not end up strangled by it, although it is a distinct possibility.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Resurrection
Hopefully this will not just be a beginning-of-the-semester-never-again-touched-post, but I'm not all that confident, really.
That being said...
Three days into my last semester as an undergraduate and not much has changed from the last post. The majority of grad school applications have been vanquished, but now the spectre of financial aid applications looms on the horizon. The reading lists for classes are not quite as dry as last semester but are equally exhaustive, if not more so. What was supposed to be a 12-hour easy semester, only two classes of which were actually required has turned into 15 (previously 18) hours of involved classes with multiple papers and major projects.
However, there are bright spots. The majority of my classes should prove to be interesting in the extreme (I even get to go on fossil-hunting field trips for one). Neil Gaiman is coming in February and I am probably a bit too excited about it. And there's always graduation to look forward to.
If nothing else the semester should qualify as Interesting Times and hopefully this blog will help me catalog part of it.
-C
EDIT: There ought to be a word for the disquiet caused by the knowledge that your hair is almost but not quite the right color....
That being said...
Three days into my last semester as an undergraduate and not much has changed from the last post. The majority of grad school applications have been vanquished, but now the spectre of financial aid applications looms on the horizon. The reading lists for classes are not quite as dry as last semester but are equally exhaustive, if not more so. What was supposed to be a 12-hour easy semester, only two classes of which were actually required has turned into 15 (previously 18) hours of involved classes with multiple papers and major projects.
However, there are bright spots. The majority of my classes should prove to be interesting in the extreme (I even get to go on fossil-hunting field trips for one). Neil Gaiman is coming in February and I am probably a bit too excited about it. And there's always graduation to look forward to.
If nothing else the semester should qualify as Interesting Times and hopefully this blog will help me catalog part of it.
-C
EDIT: There ought to be a word for the disquiet caused by the knowledge that your hair is almost but not quite the right color....
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Brave New World
Senior year should be about wrapping up, tying up loose ends, last hurrahs and finially taking that damn humanities course you should have taken freshman year.
Yeah. Right.
So far, here's what I've discovered senior year is about:
-Courses that look fun at first but come with 20 page research papers at the end.
-Figuring out where to apply for grad school/getting in touch with potential grad advisors/freaking out about the GRE/begging professors that you had once, freshman year, for letters of recomendation.
-Reading. Lots and lots of very dry reading.
I'm still in the preliminary stages of the whole grad school thing. I have lists. Multiple lists. Despite the fact that I'm fighting tooth-and-nail to get out of the South, most of the schools I'm looking at are in the same gerneral region. I'm trimming down the options from insane to relatively reasonable. Which, oddly enough is where this blog comes in. If I'm writing about things, I have to think about them and am less likely to put them off or forget about them. So, what looks suspiciously like an agent of procrastination is actually a coping mechanism.
However, right this very moment, it is an agent of procrastination since I should be most of the way through Preston Holder's The Hoe and the Horse on the Plains http://www.amazon.com/Hoe-Horse-Plains-Cultural-Development/dp/0803258097/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1251597666&sr=1-1 and I'm most definitely not.
-ix
Yeah. Right.
So far, here's what I've discovered senior year is about:
-Courses that look fun at first but come with 20 page research papers at the end.
-Figuring out where to apply for grad school/getting in touch with potential grad advisors/freaking out about the GRE/begging professors that you had once, freshman year, for letters of recomendation.
-Reading. Lots and lots of very dry reading.
I'm still in the preliminary stages of the whole grad school thing. I have lists. Multiple lists. Despite the fact that I'm fighting tooth-and-nail to get out of the South, most of the schools I'm looking at are in the same gerneral region. I'm trimming down the options from insane to relatively reasonable. Which, oddly enough is where this blog comes in. If I'm writing about things, I have to think about them and am less likely to put them off or forget about them. So, what looks suspiciously like an agent of procrastination is actually a coping mechanism.
However, right this very moment, it is an agent of procrastination since I should be most of the way through Preston Holder's The Hoe and the Horse on the Plains http://www.amazon.com/Hoe-Horse-Plains-Cultural-Development/dp/0803258097/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1251597666&sr=1-1 and I'm most definitely not.
-ix
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