We are a family, like a giant tree

I can’t believe I lost a student.  I’ve never lost a student before.  Even with all the deaths at the university this year… it was never one of mine.

It’s so different.  It’s beyond… friendship, or acquaintanceship.  There’s almost (ALMOST) something parental that goes into it.  That genuine investment in hir future, in hir success, in hir happiness.  And to have that taken away so abruptly.

…

It ages you.

I have never felt so old.  I feel old.  Emotionally.  Mentally.  I lost part of my family.  My obscenely large, 25 person family.  Part of my heart.  Part of my love.  All the pieces that went into her.

There’s always that sense of injustice when you lose someone so young in life.  It’s worse when you were just helping that person make plans for hir life.  When it’s someone you were watching just beginning to blossom.  Through you.  With you.  Maybe partially because of you.

Anyone working with students knows that they teach you and grow you often just as much as you do for them.  I cherish all the lessons and impacts she’s made.  I miss the opportunity to have more.

It feels so strange because I was planning on never really seeing her again, since I left the university.  In many ways, my plans are not changing because of this.  But it just feels so different.  There is an aching in the knowledge.  And a feeling that it’s all surreal, that I can’t quite shake.  Like, maybe if I just keep avoiding the topic, or avoid seeing her tomorrow at the wake, or on Tuesday at the funeral, I can just pretend that she’s still there at the university.  Talking with her new supervisor.  Continuing to grow and be.  And live.

It’d be easier to go that route.

I miss her.

It’s weird.  I don’t think we often talk about all the different families we create.  I had them in undergrad.  I had them in grad school.  I assume I will have more in the years to come.  She was a part of my family.  Maybe we didn’t know all the intimate details, but we were a part of that together.  Even closer, in many ways, because I directly supervised her.

I lost family.

The rest of my family is broken without her.  I am trying to stay strong for them, to be there for them.  To maintain myself as a support pillar, as they process the loss of a friend, a sister.

Our hearts are broken.

My heart is broken.

RIP HM

“For, nowadays, the world is lit by lightning!  Blow out your candles, Laura—and so—goodbye…” – The Glass Menagerie

Rollercoasters are fun...

When they're not mental/ emotional ones.

This is how the job search is making me feel:

And yes.  It does feel like I'm doing this on repeat.
... and as modestly as I can say this... I fully recognize that I'm actually (surprisingly) doing quite well.
I just feel like I have no idea what I'm doing.

What else is new?
Ha...
Bwah.
Help me. haha

The Voice

So... on Saturday, March 3rd, 2012, I did something very impulsive.  It may, in fact, be the most impulsive thing I have done in years.  I decided to audition for the NBC show, The Voice.

I decided a week before.  Exactly seven days.  The week before spring break closing and The Placement Exchange.
Obviously good timing on my part.
For anyone who knows me (which should be you all), y'all know that this is really pretty rash on my part.

But still, though it was exhausting, and I'm now scrambling to get things together, I'm really glad that I did it.

I knew, going into the auditions, that it was highly unlikely that I would move onto the next round, which I think helped me get through the whole process.  And, so, though I did not get through to the next round, it at least was not surprising or terribly soul-crushing.

The auditions took place in Chicago.  I stood in line for roughly 8 hours, arriving at 2:30 PM and leaving at 10:15 PM, with hundreds of people, of all ages, backgrounds, hopes, and vocal styles.  I brought a good friend of mine, who was a good sport, and stood in line with me for 6 of the 8 hours, and stood/ sat by herself in a freezing convention center for the last two hours.  We drove 8 hours in one day, returning to Bowling Green at 4:00 AM.  I owe her a lot.  Maybe a cake.  Or a puppy. or both.

I made a friend... She drove in the morning from Columbus.  We bonded over our mutual amateur status, spontaneous decision making, long drive in, and Columbus-love.  After standing in line together, we ended up being in the same audition group.  Everyone stands in line... we register, then you're split into groups of 10.  The 10 of you audition individually in front of one judge, who determines whether you move onto a callback a day or two after.

I met so many interesting people.  There was a man, singing country, in his 30's, who had auditioned for American Idol 6 times, X Factor once, and America's Got Talent at least once, without ever making beyond the first round.  There was a woman, probably around my age, with purple hair, a cowboy hat, and who had recently won a 1,000 dollar karaoke tournament with a Melissa Etheridge song.  I met an incredibly impressive woman who was making her living off of being a jazz singer, but was auditioning with "Il Mio Caro", one of the most beautiful classical pieces ever written.
In my group, we had three middle-aged men, a slightly older than middle-aged woman, a seventeen year old girl, and five "my aged" or 20's-early 30's.  Out of this group, I would say (and I say this with kindness and acknowledging that everyone has different preferences), there were three people who weren't so good.  Four that were good, but not amazing.  Me (I... don't feel comfortable ranking myself... haha).  And a man that was really incredible.  I really thought that he would be passed through to the next round.  However, he didn't have a second piece prepared, and I think that hurt his chances.  None of us in my group made it to callbacks.

While we were all singing, with the exception of the one incredible man, the judge stared at her laptop the entire time, or was making marks in her notebook.  When I sang, she looked up and watched for a few seconds, almost as though she was considering me briefly.  She did not ask me for a second piece though.  I wonder what she was looking for, considering how incredible that man was who she ended up not passing through.

Going through the audition process made the experience more possible, more realistic, and more jading.  I wonder how many incredible people don't get passed through.  Judging by what I've seen on the show, I wonder how many... what I would consider, not as incredible people get passed through.  How many times do people stand for hours in line, hoping that this audition is the lucky one that gets them through.  It's a chance of a lifetime, but how many other chances and risks do you have to take?  The woman I befriended in line and I discussed how if it had worked out for us, that we couldn't fathom getting around work and job searching.  Would we really give it all up for a chance to maybe possibly get through?  And maybe these thoughts are why I could never make the jump to performing for a living. haha

Anyway.  I thought that this might be an eventful update! :)  Hooray, spontaneity!  What's next?  Spontaneous trip to Russia?!  haha just kidding.  maybe.

In other news.  2.5 days until TPE.  2 suits and a new leather bag.  Still rocking the red, leather padfolio K-Sav leant/ gave (I hope... because... I never gave it back.. haha) to me for BGSU I-days.  ADORABLE thank you/ memo cards purchased.  So much still to do.
Love for y'all.  Wish me luck for this "audition process"! :)

Friendly Reminders...

I received a friendly reminder from a good friend about my lack of blogging.

WHOA.  4-5 months later. haha.

No promises, friends.  But... I AM alive!  Hooray!

Fun fact:  Job searching= stressful.  More consistent blogging is likely not to commence again until April.  If it's any comfort... My Netflix account is also on hold until April! haha

If anything, I'm consistent.

Much love! :)PJ

For some reason...

This never gets old for me...


I don't know why... haha

Rawr.

Well... we all knew it was coming.
The time when I would run out of time to blog.
And though technically, I don't really have time to now, I felt like dropping in and saying... SOMETHING.

A lot of random things have been happening... An old high school acquaintance is attempting to overtake my class council president duties and plan a (second) 5 year reunion around me.  Which sounds petty, so I won't  go into it... but that sharp reminder of high school, along with the fact that there are 8 more months before I graduate from my master's program, [which means I'll most likely be leaving Ohio] has made me really stop and think (as most "endings" generally do) about my relationships with people.

It is daunting.  To look back on all the different phases of your life.  (I know, I know... my life has been soooo long).
But, really.  I've always been pretty good at finding, no matter where I go, a small pod of people that I form good, trusting relationships with.  Sure, sometimes we're not actually personality matches... sometimes it's because we are in the same place... but I've always found good people everywhere I've gone.  And... really, at this point, I've gone a lot of places.

It's weird to evaluate who you've kept in touch with; who you haven't, but still feel close to; who you don't think you'll stay in contact with in the future; who you do think you'll stay in contact with; the people that you thought you'd never lose connection with, but you have.

And... yes.  It is unrealistic to think that I was going to keep all 50 best friends from my life (Yes.  I'm one of those people.  I have more than one best friend.  Get over it.), and we'd talk regularly, and see each other regularly, etc.  There just isn't enough time and mental energy for that to happen.
But then... what is the glue?  What is that thing that somehow has kept me bonded to some, but not to others?

What's worse is, at times like these... I find myself realizing the people I've fallen out of touch with, and I try to rekindle, to a certain extent, our friendship... or at least see how they're doing.  Because, realistically, they will always have a place in my heart.  I will still always care.
It is always sad when someone is non-receptive, or you know that attempting to contact that person would only be toxic.

It has also been raining for 3 days straight now.  Which just makes this whole thing a little gloomier.

I am 95% sure that I will be moving to California.  I feel like I need to write that down.  Often.  To remind myself of the reality of it.  And to accustom myself to the thought to stop myself from wanting to panic and run in circles/ throw up (preferably not at once).

That will be the furthest long-term living (I feel like 6 weeks in the summer does not count) from my family, roots, and friends, that I will ever have undertaken.  We will even be 3 hours away in TIME.  What will happen to those relationships then?  Will I just get caught up in the stress of my new location and forget to call/ text/ email/ send cards?  How many more people will I let go?

Hrmph.
I know.  I'm fixating.  This is part of life.  I will be fine.  I will have others to fill the voids.  But that doesn't mean I won't keep missing those holes in my heart.
Rawr.

Promise:  Next time I'll write a happy/ funny blog.  Remember when I used to write those?
This is kind of happy... I've lost 15 lbs since the last time I posted!  YAY.

Happy belated birthday to my man.
Happy early birthday to my seester.
:)
They are now both two-dozen years old.  Which I like to imagine/ measure in cupcakes.

I should stop now.
Miss y'all.

Dear Blog (and approximately 3 readers...)

I am sorry I have abandoned you.
I wish I could write something informative or insightful.
But I am tired.
So.  Must know things for you.

1.) I have officially returned to Ohio.
2.) I'm in training.
3.) I got a trim and have officially decided to grow my hair long again.
4.) I am currently using WeightWatchers.  It is an interesting journey that we can discuss at a later date.
5.) I am feeling very insecure about everything in my life
     5a) I know that sounds dramatic, but I'm sure it'll be okay.
6.) Tyler Rogols is now at BG with me.
7.) I bought a VERY pretty green bra today.  I don't feel this way about my bras often.  I guess this might not have been a MUST know, per say... but I felt like sharing.
8.) I'm in the middle of the book One Day and am enjoying it immensely.  I hope I actually finish it before my life dies.
      8a)  Upon re-reading this post, I realized how crazily dramatic that was.  Tired = intense exaggeration?
9.) I am very seriously considering attempting to stage The Last Five Years with my friend Jeremy.
     9a)  Well... maybe not THAT serious.  I'm afeared.
10.) I miss you all.  Every single one of you.  So much. :[

Summer-geddon 2011

As you can see, that last post is from one of my student Conference Assistants, who mistakenly logged onto my blog, instead of the summer "time card" blog.  I thought he was kidding when he said he blogged in on my account and that he was very sorry.
... I see now that he was not. haha
My first thought was to delete it, but it (and he) are so endearing, I think I'll just leave it.  Besides, it serves me right for looking at my personal gmail at work.

I have never really done well with good-byes.  As in, I become highly emotional.  Not so much in a... I'm going to collapse into tears... more that... approximately a week or two before departure, I feel everything at a heightened level.  One word for this: Yikes.

I think because this has been such a fast, crazy summer, it's even more intense than usual.  Commence Summer-geddon.  Yes, you read correctly.  That is the name for this week.

Self-explanatory, no?

And, of course, none of this is helped by the fact that I seem to have a raging, continuous migraine that simply can't be tamed.  I feel like I'm wearing a horcrux.  (Neverending nerdy comments...)  I feel unbalanced.  I feel like there's... excess.  Just... oozing out of my brain.

I am ready to not feel this way anymore.
...
But then that would mean it's over.  Ay.

jose blogging in

The line...

First of all, I'd like to draw attention to the fact that I am on blogging-fire!
...
Don't get used to it.  I fully expect this to end in approximately 3 weeks, when I return to my full-time Graduate Hall Director/ Student gig.

But while I'm sharing just about every thought in my head with you... here's another one that you might not like.
Womps.

So... I pride myself on actually being pretty comfortable with most things, especially as it pertains to roommates. I find that as I get older, I find more things really gross, which is unfortunate...  for example, I used to not care about stray hairs around the sink and/or shower.  Now they make me gag a little.  Especially if they are clearly not mine.  And wet.  *gag*

But, anyway, aside from that... pretty comfortable being very open and personal with you from the get-go.
Those of you who know me are thinking, "Hmm.. standard.  Yes.  With you so far."
Great.
So.
My roommate and I do laundry together.
Which might seem a little fast, as we've only known each other for about four weeks... but we moved in with each other about 5 seconds after meeting, so what can you expect, right?

Anyway.  Terrible jokes aside, we do our laundry together mainly because we don't have our own washer and dryer and have been relegated to bumming off of the other resident directors.  Which they are all extremely gracious about.  But... let's be honest.  It's still a little awkward, as we are intruding into their homes and evenings.  Often more than once.  So, we combine to try to intrude as infrequently as possible.

As such, we tend to sort and fold each other's laundry too.  Because we're nice like that.

I don't mind folding other people's underwear.  Really, if you think about it, it's clean, and it just covers the butt, so... whatever.
But.
You cannot tell me that when you go to fold somebody else's thong, the first thought that pops in your mind is not, "... Oh my God.  This was in. your. butt."


And then it's over.
Really.  Once you have that thought, you just can't continue.

Or at least I couldn't.

So... I folded everything nice and neat... and then left a pile of vaguely wadded underwear to the side.
I am sorry, roommate.  That is just a line we cannot cross.



Also.  completely unrelated:
Please go to this website.
And then, please scroll through the first seven pictures at the bottom.  Then laugh loudly.  Thank you.

I'll put a flower in your hair...

I've never been a huge flower person.
As in... I really don't know anything about flowers.
Or their names.
Which is unfortunate if someone asks you, "Ooh!  What's your favorite flower?"  because you either must say, "er... the.. pretty one?" or something generic, like, "oh.. you know... roses."
But... I've always found them so beautiful.  Recently, while in California, I walked into Trader Joe's (love this store.), and saw the most beautiful flowers for sale.

They turned out to be peonies (a bouquet for 5 dollars!), which... three weeks later, I still regret not buying. haha  And now, I'm obsessed with peonies.  They are just so big and fluffy and delicious (visually, not actually).

NOMNOMNOM.

Apparently, they are also the number 5 most popular flower used at weddings.  I'm not a real girl, nor do I ever go to weddings, so I would have no idea about this.

But anyway.  Recent fascination.  Thought I'd share.  (Buy me peonies.)


.........


...No?  Not subtle enough for subliminal messaging?  Rats.

One of many...

...of my pet peeves is reading something that is so poorly written (spelling, grammatically, syntax, etc.) that it literally looks like someone dropped words at random into a sentence.

This is irritating for a number of obvious reasons:
1.) I can't understand what you're trying to say to me.
2.) The self-righteous part of me feels like (depending who I've received this garbly-goop from) you probably should know how to write correct English by now.
3.) I have received this in a professional/ work memo.
4.) It's a waste of everyone's time trying to figure out the encoded message.
5.) It's pretty sad for the English language in an abstract sense.
.. and etc.
And obviously this does not pertain to a few typos because you were in a hurry.  Or if you are using English as your second language.  Or you have a learning disability.  Or you're golden, minus the fact that you can't distinguinsh "your" and "you're".
...
But.  I need to be able to read the thoughts you are trying to get out of your brain.

Okay.  But... really.  What is more frustrating about this is that we are graduating students from college who cannot write.  We are graduating students who use words in the wrong context (and spell them incorrectly).  We are graduating students who consistently use run-on sentences or the wrong tense in term papers and work letters.  I know that I've definitely had this conversation with a few of my colleagues before.  But I just don't understand.  What is happening?  Surely, this can't all be the downhill spiral of the English language because of technology.  I can understand people getting sloppy with spelling because they are dependent on Spell Check (it irks me, but at least it makes sense).
Is it just because people aren't reading enough as children and young adults?  Is it because our public education is not sufficient?  I have attended public school my entire life (and proud of it), and I would consider myself a decent writer.  So... what is happening?  Where are we missing the fact that students can't write? And... when did we decide that that was okay?

I'm not saying that all of these students are stupid or clearly incapable of functioning in the work place.   Obviously not.  Written communication is only a piece of that.  But if the written word is typically considered such an essential part of communication both personally and professionally, why have we relinquished it as a basic requirement for "going into the real world"?  Boo.

Living Alone is like Pringles...

Once you pop you just won't stop.

Living Alone, the newest tasty snack.  Or as I like to call it,
"Ridin' Solo".  I'm not going to lie... I've always wondered
what I'd look like with the Pringles-man's crazy moustache.

Or... at least you won't want to.

I like to think that I typically live well with others (sans my slob-ness).  I was one of those lucky brats that moved to college and had a first-year roomie that rocked my socks/ later became one of my best friends.  In fact, when I first moved to BG, I was relatively lonely (especially in the beginning) after four years of roommate living.

But then I got used to it.  "It" being living alone.  And now, living with a roommate, I find, is really difficult.  You find that you get used to a routine.  Or you at least get used to not having to consider other people.  But actually... it's not the considering other people part that I struggle with so much... it's the other people, who are also used to living alone, not considering me.

Don't get me wrong... I do miss walking around in various states of undress whenever I choose  (Oh please.  We all do it.)  And I'm sure not all roommate living is the experience that I am currently having.  And realistically, it's not even that bad.  No one has been pistol-whipped with a hair straightener (...yet).  I think that I have just been spoiled with great roommate living before this.

And as much as I like my roommate, it is undeniable that my one-person,  still messy expanse of an apartment calls to me from across the country.

I hear you, apartment.  I hear you.

Other Blogs that You Should Check Out

Especially if you are nerds... which, if you're my friend, you probably are...

http://mydaguerreotypeboyfriend.tumblr.com/

http://betterbooktitles.com/archive

Enjoy!! :)

"Working" on a Friday afternoon...

I feel as though I have been abnormally sluggish in my work ethic lately.  Or... really more.. slothish.
Like this:

Now.  You  may be asking, "Why does this sloth look vaguely homeless and live in a box inside of a dumpster?"
...
That's a good question.  I asked myself that same thing.  I'm not sure.  Yet.  This still seems to be appropriate to how I'm feeling right now.  haha.  Because, he somehow still looks generally content, right?  If not a little sleepy/ stoned.  And while, I must iterate for my own credibility, I am not stoned, my brain feels a little mushy today.

Note to self:  Stop drinking caffeine after 9 PM.  You will not sleep.  And then your brain will be mush.  And then you will over-compensate by drinking too much Diet Coke the next day.  And then your brain will be mush.  On CRACK.  Which explains why this blog is making no sense.

But while we're talking about sloths (and crack?) ... Aren't sloths CUTE?
I mean... just look at this little fur-nugget!

Which also led me to THIS discovery.:

Clearly.  I really want this necklace now.  When would I wear it?  Always.  Really?  No.

They have other adorable necklaces as well... like monkies, kiwi birds, and anteaters.  I'll go ahead and plug for them here.






Okay.  Now that I have inundated you with... nothingness.  I will stop.
End scene.

Smell you later...

There's something about trying to find the time to sit down and write about all my adventures that is so daunting.  Same goes for the 600+ pictures I have from Europe.  Maybe these things will be weekend adventures.  And by adventures, I mean hopefully solace and much-needed alone time that is so scarce here.  I haven't had to live with a roommate for a very, very long time now.  But that is for another post.

Instead, I want to write about a metaphor that popped into my head last night, as I was drifting into sleep.  (I'm sure y'all know how that happens.  You find the meaning of life in the shower.  Or right before sleep.  Or when you're trying to focus on something else. etc.)

Anyway.  I have had "the opportunity" to undergo multiple transitions the past couple of years.  Technically, all of your life is constantly transitioning, right?  Right.  But, I have never had to meet, get to know intensely, collaborate with, and even on occasion live with SO many new people in such little time.  First, there was moving to BGSU and completely rebuilding my social networks.  Then, there was a supervisor change.  Then, there was going back to Taiwan (which... after a six year period of not seeing extended family members, you're essentially meeting new people).  And then, there was the Europe trip (That epic, unforgettable, amazing experience.... that I will some day write about.)  And now, here I am, in little Marymount College in Palos Verdes, California.

As many of you know, I am constantly introspecting (p.s. this is a great form of this word.).  I naturally reflect on myself, generally in how I interact with others.  Not surprising really.  There's this thing about my personality that I had been struggling with, ever since I'd gotten to BG.  I'm not trying to toot my own horn, but I would actually consider myself to be wacky, intelligent, fun, etc.  For you True Colors nerds, Orange is a CLOSE second to my top ranking Blue.  For those of you who are not True Colors experts, please see below for my best attempt at a crash course in explanation.  Anyway, as such, I tend to pal up with some pretty OUTRAGEOUSLY Orange people.  They also tend to find me to be a good companion because I get their crazy, but I won't upstage them ;).  But that's the thing.  I'm often, in turn, upstaged by them.  I never think that I hide anything about my personality, but generally, I'm not going to hit you with my full-frontal orange right when I meet you.  Because I care too much to get to know you and what kind of person you are (blue), and how much crazy you can really handle before I launch that sh*t at you.  Sometimes, it takes me longer to warm up than other times.  But still.  I have found myself passed over for different things and opportunities because I didn't stand out more than my truly Orange counterparts that really laid it all out there at the beginning.  I'm not bitter that my friends are rock stars.  Because they ARE beyond fabulous and deserve every opportunity.  But I was definitely struggling being okay with not being first string.

But.

I have noticed.  If you give me long enough, I will come through for you.  In terms of work, friendship, creativity, problem-solving, etc.  And, typically, I am well-liked.  I am easy to get along with.  One of my Orange besties keeps comforting me with:  "I [Orange bestie] invoke a very strong reaction out of people.  Because I just throw all my crazy at you, you either LOVE me, or HATE me.  Or they love me and get sick of me because I'm overwhelming.  People don't tend to feel very luke-warm about me.  But you.  People like you.  There's not a single person that has an actively negative view of you [p.s. I am unsure of the validity of this statement].  And you even get people that really love you too.  And you're stable in both ranking and personality.  Isn't that better than extremes?"  At the time.  To be obstinate.  I said no.  But as I get more comfortable and mentally make note of my interactions with new people, I'm starting to appreciate it too.  (Disclaimer:  I hope that this passage does not make me sound  like a smarmy jerk because that's not what I'm going for, I promise.)

The metaphor that floated in my head has to do with perfume.  I want y'all to know, right now, that I actually know nothing about perfumes.  Except, "Ooh.  This smells pretty!" or "*gag* omg. why does this exist?"  I cannot pull out "citrus notes" or "floral flavors" etc.  I leave that to the experts.  and my sister.  So the only piece of information that I do know about perfume, is in fact from my sister (and some double checking on Wikipedia).  Perfumes are made out of typically 3 layers.  There is that strong, top layer, or "the first note".  This is what hits you upon first spray.  It's the theme that overwhelms your senses and what you're really considering when smelling the perfume in the store, and typically what you actually want to smell like.  There are also middle notes and base notes.  The base note is the scent that is the core of your perfume.  After hours of wear, this layer is the one that will continue to linger on your skin/ hair, after all the other scents have drifted away.  I think all my life, I have been striving to be the first note.  Seriously... how glamorous!  But in reality, I'm more of that base note.  And it's really more conducive to my preferences anyway.  I'd rather be the one that you want to keep for the long haul.  The thing that you still catch a whiff of at the end of the day that makes you smile a little.

So.  Okay then.  I am a base note.  And I am finally okay with it.

***True Colors uses four colors: Gold, Green, Blue, and Orange.  Each of these colors represent a certain subset of personality traits and preferences.  All people have some percentage of all of these colors and traits, though some are more extreme than others.  I'll describe some more extreme attributes.  Golds are known for their need/ desire to follow traditions and rules.  They can be occasionally overbearing, but really what people think of when they think of "the stereotypical leader".  Greens are the "intellectuals".  They are detail-oriented and focused on the process, rather than the outcome.  They are the types that care more about the theory than the practice, and are occasionally typecasted as "a little weird" or "in their own little world".  Not my words.  I got that straight out of a True Colors book.  Oranges are creative! and fun! and spontaneous! with lots of energy and initiative but--

... generally really terrible follow-through and disdain for detail.  Blues are your emotive, empathetic, sympathetic, feelings kind of people.  Super relational and considerate.

For reference, or if you're just curious, I have a very high/ extreme blue score.  My orange and green tend to be pretty close to my blue score and close together/ flip-flop depending if I'm playing/ working.  My gold is very low.  ... The more you know *theme song plays in the background*  (It is almost midnight here.  I'm a little loopy).

I'm a world traveller.

But for real.  As such.  I have had no time to update anyone on my life.  Including now.  As I am already 5 minutes late for work.  I also have no internet in my apartment.  So... it might be awhile.  But never fear!  I'm alive and well and have every intention of writing in here again.

Loves.

American Woman

If there's anything this trip has taught me... it is that I'm an American woman, through and through.

I've never really doubted this fact, but this trip has only further solidified it.

More to come on my trip to Taiwan... (someday... between... work, Columbus, England, and California).  I'm even toying with the idea of writing a short story about it.  It was that memorable.

When It Rains, It Pours...

This week has been an epic week of emotions... between disillusionment, worry, relief, friendship, and an overwhelming sense of appreciation...  Hopefully, I find a way to work through everything else... but luckily, it has ended on a high note.

I really want to thank my cohort.  Receiving the Community Spirit Award was... I don't even have words.  I never would have expected to even have been nominated for this award, nevermind receiving it.  It's the kindest thing that has come out of this year.  For those who are unfamiliar, the Community Spirit Award is meant to recognize a first year student in the program who reaches out to others in the community (classmates, faculty, staff, other colleges, etc.) and shows a strong commitment to to diversity, academics, and assistantship.  I cannot be so immodest as to think that I truly embody all of these qualities, or that there weren't others, given the fabulous people in my program, that did not deserve this award, but... really.  Thank you for the kind nomination, the award, and all the kind words from y'all afterward.  It has lifted the load of the week.

My heart is full.

** I also wanted to add this.. :) -- please read this hilarious blog post for reference

Slacker.

Hi,

My name is PJ.  I am a graduate student.  Hence, I have not posted in approximately 3 months...
Also.  I'm lazy.
and clearly an amateur blogger.

Fail.

Hopefully, more coming after this week of final projects and banquets.

Love,
PJ