Yesterday marked my first day back in school. Everything seems so surreal and comical - an episode of Saved by the Bell unfolding in real life. As is requisite for the first day of anything important, the alarm did not go off. Luckily, I was OK with time and showed up to the lecture hall a good 10 minutes before the class was starting.
It was packed with what I can only describe as members of the Lollipop Guild running around well, like munchkins (note that as soon as I wrote munchkins, I thought, hmm ... I could really go for a donut right now). The class overflowed with young and overeager pre-med campers. I looked around to see if I could catch the frightened eye of another post-bac candidate with no luck.
The professor is a short British man with a Santa Claus belly. He seems nice, and aloof in only the way the Brits know how. He was playing a movement from Mozart's Magic Flute on full blast (Rock on!) before class. I totally forgot about the utter bizareness of academia. A parallel universe, where the real world and all of the events taking place in it are left in never-never land. Anybody read the paper this morning? How 'bout those Knicks? Nada.
But class was class. Lots of administrative announcements, then we started Organic Chem 101. Very basic stuff on Day 1 ... slow enough that I could follow along at least. Some inevitably annoying things happened which I must recount.
1) Quite a few cell phones went off in lecture. Seriously people. How rude.
2) In the middle of class, the professor put up a few organic compounds, as a way to say "lookie here, this stuff DOES apply in real life!" He showed us DNA, glucose etc. One compound was labeled "ethylene glycol" which he proceeded to tell us is anti-freeze.
A girl raised her hand. She asked "Professor, if it's ethylene glycol shouldn't there be a double bond on the second carbon?" Oy vey. Here we go. The memories of overeager undergrads flooded my mind. Images of students scrambling to write every last word the professor uttered flashed before me. Lo and behold ... the anal pre-med ... in its natural habitat. An interesting animal. DO NOT FEED. It only adds to their obsessive-compulsiveness. Dorkus abundus.
3) Class is scheduled to end at 10:30. The Professor was still talking, but at 10:30 people started shuffling papers and packing their bags. I repeat, seriously people, how rude.
So that's school. The rosy picture I had painted in my head while I was working (because you know, the grass is always greener) has expediently disappeared. In its place lies the reality that I need to study and make sure I understand this stuff. That's it. I will not memorize the textbook or even write down what the professor says.
The thing is, after working, you pick up some pretty damn helpful skills. These include time management, making do with inadquate information and remaining calm in most all situations. In class, they provide you with study guides. They tell you what to read, and when, and then they explain it to you. Seems pretty generous to me ...
All in all, I'm not loving it but I realize this is all a process to prepare myself for Big Life Change. Plus, the time exists for me. I study for myself, and that feels good.
I am sharing an apartment with another girl who is an undergraduate. She arrived last night, and we chatted briefly. I told her about my day and how I was hoping to meet other post-bac students. I told her it was harder than I thought because I really couldn't tell if people were "older" or not. My story concluded with "I guess I should have expected that, since in my jeans and tee-shirt I look pretty young as well."
Her response? "Oh no, you look pretty old." Thanks. Biatch.
PS: Harvard Square was closed off for a while yesterday, and fire trucks and police cars surrounded the Holyoke Center. I saw a guy in a bomb-proof suit (is there such thing?) go inside. Apparently there was a mysterious package or some other such offense. But for those of you fellow Crimson Alumni ... Holyoke Center? Heh, yeah right. Because UHS is the center of the axis of evil.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Sunday, June 27, 2004
flashing back
I arrived in Cambridge today. I can't lie. It feels weird. I am disoriented without the community that I created while I was here. Am I an imposter? Shouldn't I be done with my time here?
I think it's best to recount the day as it unfolded. I decided to take the Chinatown Bus to Boston, but did not buy a ticket beforehand. Noone will be in line for a 7:00 AM bus on a Sunday morning, I reasoned.
Wow. Was I surprised. The 7:00 AM was sold out, as was the 8:00 (on both lines). So I waited for a bit until the 9:00 AM. Right behind two big Russian guys who kept blowing smoke into my face and in front of a girl and her friend who decided to not so quietly pass judgement on the looks of most everyone in line. But the time passed.
I attempted to sleep to no avail. In the row in front of me, a girl pulled out an organic chemistry textbook and her molecular model set. Oh the irony. The boy sitting next to her used this to intiate a conversation about orgo. "Which textbook do you use? I use a different molecular set which helps you visualize the orbitals more easily."
I felt old. And scared ... I can't even remember how orbitals work. How am I going to start a class in organic chemistry tomorrow morning? The last time I took a science class was 7 years ago!
But the ride went smoothly and here I am, in Cambridge. It is packed to the brim with summer school students and their parents. These kids are all in high school. I almost feel bad for them, reflecting on what I know now. After learning that life after college just isn't that much fun, I wish I could tell these kids to stop preparing themselves ad nauseum to get into Ivy League schools.
I'm sure Summer School will be a nice experience for them ... but go travel instead! Take a painting class. Watch TV all day and eat cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I can't remember anything I learned in my classes in school (hence the do-over, I suppose) ... but still ... college courses during your summers in high school? To be brutually honest, I hope they don't think they have a better chance of getting into Harvard because they take these summer classes. If anything, it will just accelerate their burnout once they get to school.
Do I sound bitter? Let's just see how tomorrow pans out. I tried to buy a notebook today and nearly had an anxiety attack deciding over the various options. Heavyweight, college ruled, narrow ruled, 1-2-3 subject ... Oy. I got way too used to using legal pads and scraps of paper working for The Man. Oh, and I didn't actually end up buying one. I think I might just write on the backs of any handouts they give out. That's one aspect I picked up in the real world that I can't force to backtrack.
I miss New York already.
I think it's best to recount the day as it unfolded. I decided to take the Chinatown Bus to Boston, but did not buy a ticket beforehand. Noone will be in line for a 7:00 AM bus on a Sunday morning, I reasoned.
Wow. Was I surprised. The 7:00 AM was sold out, as was the 8:00 (on both lines). So I waited for a bit until the 9:00 AM. Right behind two big Russian guys who kept blowing smoke into my face and in front of a girl and her friend who decided to not so quietly pass judgement on the looks of most everyone in line. But the time passed.
I attempted to sleep to no avail. In the row in front of me, a girl pulled out an organic chemistry textbook and her molecular model set. Oh the irony. The boy sitting next to her used this to intiate a conversation about orgo. "Which textbook do you use? I use a different molecular set which helps you visualize the orbitals more easily."
I felt old. And scared ... I can't even remember how orbitals work. How am I going to start a class in organic chemistry tomorrow morning? The last time I took a science class was 7 years ago!
But the ride went smoothly and here I am, in Cambridge. It is packed to the brim with summer school students and their parents. These kids are all in high school. I almost feel bad for them, reflecting on what I know now. After learning that life after college just isn't that much fun, I wish I could tell these kids to stop preparing themselves ad nauseum to get into Ivy League schools.
I'm sure Summer School will be a nice experience for them ... but go travel instead! Take a painting class. Watch TV all day and eat cereal for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I can't remember anything I learned in my classes in school (hence the do-over, I suppose) ... but still ... college courses during your summers in high school? To be brutually honest, I hope they don't think they have a better chance of getting into Harvard because they take these summer classes. If anything, it will just accelerate their burnout once they get to school.
Do I sound bitter? Let's just see how tomorrow pans out. I tried to buy a notebook today and nearly had an anxiety attack deciding over the various options. Heavyweight, college ruled, narrow ruled, 1-2-3 subject ... Oy. I got way too used to using legal pads and scraps of paper working for The Man. Oh, and I didn't actually end up buying one. I think I might just write on the backs of any handouts they give out. That's one aspect I picked up in the real world that I can't force to backtrack.
I miss New York already.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
invisa-what?
Hello. Today was an interesting day. I question whether to tell you the highlight of my day, because I risk opening a can of worms. Or giving you all some ammo to use against me.
I went to the orthodontist. That's right. See, I used to have braces, back in the day. Oh and did I squeeze every element of dorkiness out of them. Orange and black rubber bands to commemorate Halloween? Sure! Bright pink rubber bands because I only wore bright pink clothes and lipstick in 5th grade? Bring it on! (An aside: the first color of lipstick I ever wore was called "Circus Pink." It was an Estee-Lauder lipstick that came as part of a free gift for something my mother bought. Yes, I swear, it was called Circus Pink. And I wore it. On my face. My brown face. I'm almost recovered from the humiliation).
So, I wore braces and then I wore a retainer. The retainer broke at some point in high school. The orthodontist said I didn't need one, so I stopped wearing it. And one of my teeth has shifted over the years. I've always been annoyed and self-conscious about it, but what was I going to do? Get braces all over again? No thanks.
A few weeks ago I had a dental checkup and asked my dentist what he thought regarding treating the shifted teeth. Should I see an orthodontist? He checked it out and said "A very good idea. Very good." Sheesh. Thanks. I didn't smile for the rest of the day.
But I made an appointment, and went today. A few things:
1) Kids in orthodontist's offices are annoying.
2) I felt like a loser
3) The orthodontist had an electronic check-in system. It was literally like an airport check-in kiosk - but you don't swipe your credit card, you type in your name. How weird? But the kids were all into it, so I guess it makes sense.
4) My mom came with me. See #2.
The orthodontist lady turned out to be surpringly nice and smart. And she didn't yell at me for not flossing or for eating Now-and-Laters (very bad for braces, let me tell you).
She recommended that I think about Invisalign. Have you heard of these things? A series of clear plastic molds that fit over your teeth. You get fitted for a series of plastic molds that slowly shift your teeth into the position you want. Apparently you can't see them on your teeth. And you keep them on 24/7. I don't think so. Like you wouldn't see that my teeth have a plastic cover? Like the plastic cover grandparents have on their furniture so it doesn't get dirty? You know it's there. And you slide all over the place when you sit on that stuff.
But still, I do want to fix my teeth. Or is this something I should just accept as my fate? And to be honest they are not bad at all, it's a minor thing. But in my head I'm convinced it's Bugs Bunny-esque.
See. I did it again. Ammo.
I went to the orthodontist. That's right. See, I used to have braces, back in the day. Oh and did I squeeze every element of dorkiness out of them. Orange and black rubber bands to commemorate Halloween? Sure! Bright pink rubber bands because I only wore bright pink clothes and lipstick in 5th grade? Bring it on! (An aside: the first color of lipstick I ever wore was called "Circus Pink." It was an Estee-Lauder lipstick that came as part of a free gift for something my mother bought. Yes, I swear, it was called Circus Pink. And I wore it. On my face. My brown face. I'm almost recovered from the humiliation).
So, I wore braces and then I wore a retainer. The retainer broke at some point in high school. The orthodontist said I didn't need one, so I stopped wearing it. And one of my teeth has shifted over the years. I've always been annoyed and self-conscious about it, but what was I going to do? Get braces all over again? No thanks.
A few weeks ago I had a dental checkup and asked my dentist what he thought regarding treating the shifted teeth. Should I see an orthodontist? He checked it out and said "A very good idea. Very good." Sheesh. Thanks. I didn't smile for the rest of the day.
But I made an appointment, and went today. A few things:
1) Kids in orthodontist's offices are annoying.
2) I felt like a loser
3) The orthodontist had an electronic check-in system. It was literally like an airport check-in kiosk - but you don't swipe your credit card, you type in your name. How weird? But the kids were all into it, so I guess it makes sense.
4) My mom came with me. See #2.
The orthodontist lady turned out to be surpringly nice and smart. And she didn't yell at me for not flossing or for eating Now-and-Laters (very bad for braces, let me tell you).
She recommended that I think about Invisalign. Have you heard of these things? A series of clear plastic molds that fit over your teeth. You get fitted for a series of plastic molds that slowly shift your teeth into the position you want. Apparently you can't see them on your teeth. And you keep them on 24/7. I don't think so. Like you wouldn't see that my teeth have a plastic cover? Like the plastic cover grandparents have on their furniture so it doesn't get dirty? You know it's there. And you slide all over the place when you sit on that stuff.
But still, I do want to fix my teeth. Or is this something I should just accept as my fate? And to be honest they are not bad at all, it's a minor thing. But in my head I'm convinced it's Bugs Bunny-esque.
See. I did it again. Ammo.
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
for the love of e-bay
Yesterday I won my first e-bay auction. I bought a set of Organic Chemistry Molecule thingies. You know, the tinker toys disguised as learning tools, with the price tripled?
I love e-bay. Though my relationship with it has been short, I am definitely head over heels. I checked the site constantly to scope out my competition and refine my strategy. I've heard snippets regarding addiction from various people, and I now I emphatize with them.
But my nascent affection is nothing compared to my fathers. He loves e-bay. More than his family. I often wonder whether he has put the rest of us up for sale. The following interaction, which took place a few months ago, sums up his unhealthy addiction:
I love e-bay. Though my relationship with it has been short, I am definitely head over heels. I checked the site constantly to scope out my competition and refine my strategy. I've heard snippets regarding addiction from various people, and I now I emphatize with them.
But my nascent affection is nothing compared to my fathers. He loves e-bay. More than his family. I often wonder whether he has put the rest of us up for sale. The following interaction, which took place a few months ago, sums up his unhealthy addiction:
Dad
So, I was looking on e-bay, and there is a horse ranch in Atlanta for sale. I was thinking it could be interesting.
Me
Um, what could be interesting? We don't ride horses, or you know, ranch.
Dad
Still, it could be fun to go there, maybe when I retire.
Me
You will never retire.
Dad
I might. And we could have horses.
While that's not the verbatim recap of the conversation, it gives you the general picture. E-bay creates a parallel universe, where all things are possible (and for sale). Time to look for some more books and my current e-bay obsession: an old-school nintendo.
I'm off to Cambridge on Saturday ... the reality of moving and school and career shift has not yet sunk in.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
dog days
Damn it's hot. I moved stuff out of my apartment today. Torture.
Yay for the Pistons for kicking Laker butt. My plans last night continually changed, so I found myself free at 10:00 PM with no place to watch the game. So I walked into a bar. Yup. Just walked in, sat down and ordered a glass of water (because damn it's hot). The drunky drunks next to me started up a conversation. Paul, a 39 year old man and his coworker (though he did get up to give her a backrub - yes a backrub - at the bar) - a pretty Australian girl, whose name I didn't catch. Paul told me his daughter's name is Sophia. Then two minutes later asked me my name again.
The bartender looked like Rick Fox. He finds it annoying everytime people tell him he looks like Rick Fox, so therefore he was rooting for the Pistons.
The music was straight up Top 40 at the bar. One song came on and Paul said "This is a good song. Who sings it?" And the girl responded "Effervesence." When the band is really Evanescence. I wanted to laugh but couldn't. And I keep thinking of Polident, because it's effervescence cleans dentures.
I put up a posting for my apartment on Craig's List. A guy answered the ad and wanted to see it. Of COURSE he ended up being Indian. He didn't even look at the apartment for more than a minute. Then he left. And today he e-mailed me asking if I wanted to get dinner or coffee.
Ugh. What is it with Indian guys? That is a subject that is worthy of tackling in its own post. I'm going to go get some ice cream. Because I might melt.
Yay for the Pistons for kicking Laker butt. My plans last night continually changed, so I found myself free at 10:00 PM with no place to watch the game. So I walked into a bar. Yup. Just walked in, sat down and ordered a glass of water (because damn it's hot). The drunky drunks next to me started up a conversation. Paul, a 39 year old man and his coworker (though he did get up to give her a backrub - yes a backrub - at the bar) - a pretty Australian girl, whose name I didn't catch. Paul told me his daughter's name is Sophia. Then two minutes later asked me my name again.
The bartender looked like Rick Fox. He finds it annoying everytime people tell him he looks like Rick Fox, so therefore he was rooting for the Pistons.
The music was straight up Top 40 at the bar. One song came on and Paul said "This is a good song. Who sings it?" And the girl responded "Effervesence." When the band is really Evanescence. I wanted to laugh but couldn't. And I keep thinking of Polident, because it's effervescence cleans dentures.
I put up a posting for my apartment on Craig's List. A guy answered the ad and wanted to see it. Of COURSE he ended up being Indian. He didn't even look at the apartment for more than a minute. Then he left. And today he e-mailed me asking if I wanted to get dinner or coffee.
Ugh. What is it with Indian guys? That is a subject that is worthy of tackling in its own post. I'm going to go get some ice cream. Because I might melt.
Saturday, June 12, 2004
cookie monster and the commonwealth
Hello All. And by all, I really mean nobody, because I don't think anyone still reads this. Especially since I haven't written in a very long time.
A quick recap of what's been going on with me:
1) I finished up at work (quite anticlimactic, really).
2) I spent a week at home watching TV and occassionally doing some spring cleaning
3) Then a week in Puerto Rico with the family.
I am going up to Cambridge in 2 weeks to take some summer school classes. I will be in a classroom with kids not young enough for me to say that I'm old enough to be their mother, but enough for me to entertain the thought. I'm scared. But I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Puerto Rico turned out to be a great vacation. The family. And we didn't even try to kill each other during that time. We stayed at the El Conquistador - which I strongly recommend for anyone considering a Puerto Rican vacation. The resort sits on a cliff overlooking the ocean. A water taxi takes you to a private island owned by the hotel with a private beach. Very nice.
The first time I was on the water taxi, one of the hotel employees started up a conversation with me because I was wearing my Oscar the Grouch tee-shirt (which is literally a shirt with a picture of Oscar that says "Oscar the Grouch.") He said "Hey! Cookie Monster!" I laughed politely and told him that it was really Oscar, not Cookie Monster.
So we chatted for a bit. And then he said, "So I guess you have to get back to your boyfriend" and pointed to the other side of the boat where my parents and brother were sitting.
WHAT? I suppose it was an honest mistake. But let's just say, even if I were hypothetically there with my boyfriend, why would either his or my parents be along for the trip?
And lest I overlook the fact that my family and I all look alike! I responded that I was there with my brother and parents. He said "Oh. Gotcha Cookie Monster."
I think there is a way to put pictures up on your blog. I will try and do that soon. I want you all to see pictures of the resort, because it was so pretty, and not very expensive either. I love internet specials.
A quick recap of what's been going on with me:
1) I finished up at work (quite anticlimactic, really).
2) I spent a week at home watching TV and occassionally doing some spring cleaning
3) Then a week in Puerto Rico with the family.
I am going up to Cambridge in 2 weeks to take some summer school classes. I will be in a classroom with kids not young enough for me to say that I'm old enough to be their mother, but enough for me to entertain the thought. I'm scared. But I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.
Puerto Rico turned out to be a great vacation. The family. And we didn't even try to kill each other during that time. We stayed at the El Conquistador - which I strongly recommend for anyone considering a Puerto Rican vacation. The resort sits on a cliff overlooking the ocean. A water taxi takes you to a private island owned by the hotel with a private beach. Very nice.
The first time I was on the water taxi, one of the hotel employees started up a conversation with me because I was wearing my Oscar the Grouch tee-shirt (which is literally a shirt with a picture of Oscar that says "Oscar the Grouch.") He said "Hey! Cookie Monster!" I laughed politely and told him that it was really Oscar, not Cookie Monster.
So we chatted for a bit. And then he said, "So I guess you have to get back to your boyfriend" and pointed to the other side of the boat where my parents and brother were sitting.
WHAT? I suppose it was an honest mistake. But let's just say, even if I were hypothetically there with my boyfriend, why would either his or my parents be along for the trip?
And lest I overlook the fact that my family and I all look alike! I responded that I was there with my brother and parents. He said "Oh. Gotcha Cookie Monster."
I think there is a way to put pictures up on your blog. I will try and do that soon. I want you all to see pictures of the resort, because it was so pretty, and not very expensive either. I love internet specials.
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