It's been over a month since I last updated and not because I have a lack of things to say/report. Mostly, I just don't think about updating. When it does occur to me to write an entry, I'm usually busy doing something else (ex. driving home, showering, fretting).
Added to this is my aversion to "Internet culture." Social-networking sites such as Facebook and Twitter produce all of the anxiety of more direct communication without any of the payoff. A generally water-downed version of a person is brandied about without any depth of relationship and real understanding. While they are attractively concise, these tidbit offerings leave me cold. Of course, I'm primarily interested in understanding myself and part of this process is believing that others are just as interesting and interested in exploring themselves. And personal Internet information seems transitory and smacks of unneeded compromise. Which is my way of saying, "Whoops, I'll try harder in the future!"
Onward to the news:
1. Shelter
Everything on the buying-a-condo front is going smoothly. I got a call from the realtor today, and she informed me that the condo passed the termite inspection. Last week, the house inspector gave me his report which cited only an estimated $450.00 in repairs; these consisted entirely of things I had planned to replace. After this, I sent all the paperwork and documents to the mortgage company who has since sent it to the closing company. (I had no idea this would be so complex! The image in my head was of speaking with George Bailey at the savings and loan, striking a deal, and ending with a handshake.)
Unfortunately, the entire process has been plagued with minor inconveniences: the seller was out of town and unreachable for a week, my realtor's husband is ill, the seller's realtor gave us the wrong key when my parents came to look, one of the credit bureaus put the wrong credit history on my report. Through all this I've remained relatively calm and positive. I've even had a couple days when I was excited. Still, there is a persistent, foreboding voice in my head that keeps warning that I'm going to end up messing up my life more than I already have.
2. Education
I received all the acceptance letters and paperwork. I've filled everything out and sent it in. I do need to get a student ID. I was happy to find out that I will be monetarily compensated for the workshop I have to attend in order to teach first-year composition. I also received some of the articles and essays that I will use in the class. I'm excited about how structured everything is and am beginning to feel that I may actually make a success of this little endeavor. (I'm steering clear of any teacher-schmaltz.)
3. Birthday
I'm about to start my birthday weekend. I'm turning 25 (a quarter of a century) and won't have another landmark birthday for a number of years. Mom, Dad, my brother, and his girlfriend are coming up tomorrow for a cookout that will feature all of my favorite grilled seafood and roasted vegetables. I baked a chocolate cake and made the icing for it yesterday and will assemble it tomorrow morning. On my actual birthday, I'm going over to Jason's to hang out for awhile. Beyond that I haven't any plans except to watch a couple good movies and relax.
Jason graduated this weekend, and the ceremony included bagpipes. Afterward, we all went to eat Mexican food and then over to his condo for cake and conversation. The guests slowly dwindled until only Jason, Stephanie, and I were left.
Over the weekend, we went shopping and I bought too many movies. Hastings is having a sale on their used films, and I was able to get several of the awards season films from last year, including Milk, Rachel Getting Married, The Reader, and Doubt. Unfortunately, Frost/Nixon is too new for them to have used copies. I also picked up The Black Swan and A Letter for Three Wives, two films from the Fox Studio Classics collection.
Stephanie and I watched a couple more episodes of Buffy and an episode of Avatar. We all watched License to Kill which pits Timothy Dalton as James Bond against a suave drug lord who operates under the cover of a research facility, puppet President, international bank, decadent casino, and religious cult. Sufficed to say, everyone is pretty busy. At one point there were ninjas.
Stephanie gave me another tarot reading which went really differently than the first. I still didn't feel comfortable asking a question so it was open. Though I did get the Death card again (this time in the Hopes and Fears position), I didn't freak out and stayed generally calm and collected. The cards that she used were very pretty, and I'm contemplating borrowing some of her books and learning more about tarot. It's fascinating.
After the days of merriment, I returned home and opened my mail. Happily, I received my letter of acceptance from the English department so I'm officially going to graduate school in the Fall. In an unforeseen twist, they offered me a graduate teaching assistantship which I didn't expect at all since I missed the deadline posted on their website. This would require me to teach to first-year composition courses per semester in exchange for a 6 credit hour tuition waiver and a stipend of approximately $12,000 per school year. I'm extremely excited about this opportunity and can't wait to get enrolled and started.
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Yesterday, I took the Graduate Record Examination. I'm not fond of standardized tests (I don't think I've met anyone who is particularly fond of them.) and was dreading it. Though the study guides and testimonials of people who have and haven't taken the test assured me it was easy, my nervousness wasn't assuaged. During the actual test, I wasn't nervous at all; I was resigned.
It was an interesting experience. Nervous, I arrived forty minutes early. You have to write a confidentiality agreement before you take the test. My dyslexia flared up, and I paniced because I kept misreading words and my tendency to misread had been the main reason I missed question on the practice sets that I'd taken. However, I got my nerves under control and didn't have a problem during that test.
The test took place in a backroom with no lights or view of outside. Since I forewent my breaks, I had no idea what time it was since I hadn't glanced at the clock as I went in. I signed out at 3:18p so it took about three hours to take the test. You cannot take anything into the testing area so my phone, wallet, keys, book, and pencils were put into a locker. I had only a locker key and my drivers license (I suppose this is so if the building where bombed, they could identify my body, but I don't want to believe that anyone's last moments were ever spent taking the GRE). I was also warned that if I wanted to remove my hoodie, I would be required to leave the testing area.
So it's over and done, and I got good scores considering the amount of time I actually spent studying for the thing. Initially, I was upset with my nonspectacular scores, but I'm content with them now. When I was in grade school and high school, comparable tests held a lot of importance to me. Though the results of many of the tests didn't have any bearing in the real world, it was imperative to me that I excelled.
In celebration, I went over to my Aunt Mary's house to watch Australia. John Paul and I went through a bottle of Merlot, and I was able to spend time with my infant first cousin once removed. She was born last November 4th so the political event on her birthday totally trumps that of my own. (Walter Mondale named Geraldine Ferraro as his running mate on my birthday.) She's learned to roll and is experimenting with crawling. From her reaction to the film, we surmised that she either likes animal noises or Hugh Jackman.
Aunt Mary and I really enjoyed the film. I'm not sure that John Paul liked it as much as we did. It's a very postmodern take on epic cinema that I really enjoyed. It's a sprawling, romantic epic, and I'm a sucker for things like that. Just as I did with Doctor Zhivago, A Passage to India, and several other epics, I was swept up into the story and cried. I know that the reviews weren't the greatest so I'm not looking up anything. I'm just going to be happy that I saw it and assume that the naysayers are wrong.
Right before I wrote this, I watched John Ford's The Searchers, and I've been listening to Johnny Cash's At Folsom Prison while I've been writing. Thus, I would like to observe that John Wayne and Johnny Cash share a certain vocal quality. I'd never realized.