What I Thought I Wanted

Today is the Feast of the Ascension. The forty days after Pascha are finally over. It was a bit startling, though I knew it was coming, when Father Patrick prayed for the newly illumined in this morning's liturgy, and my name and those of my newly sealed friends weren't mentioned. When I say startling, I mean two things. First, I'd become accustomed to the list of the six of us in that prayer. Second, it came as a great relief that the literal forty days are past! Perhaps my wilderness trek may continue. Perhaps not. I don't know, and I'm not going to try to guess.

In a dramatic climax to the story, I was given the unexpected opportunity to take a couple days off to relax last week. I had that panic attack last Tuesday, and I had been shaking since the previous Saturday. Tuesday night, I managed a whopping three hours of sleep. We had a Chamber event Wednesday night, so I didn't get home until after nine.

I crashed. Hard. I had had in the back of my mind that I would take Thursday morning off to get school stuff taken care of. I wasn't sure what would happen from there. When I woke up that morning, I knew I was in trouble. I was feeling very weak, probably because I was almost completely unable to eat on Wednesday. Standing was exhausting. I was still shaking way too much.

After I took care of the school part of the day, I went back to bed. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it. I was terrified. I honestly thought I might die. It took an hour and a good deal of effort to calm myself.

I'm not sure if it was entirely a result of Thursday, or if Thursday only triggered a collapse that had been on its way for a month, but I slept almost the entire day Friday. That was not the plan, but every time I tried to do anything, I ended up asleep instead. Apparently, I was really tired, because I then proceeded to sleep all night, too! Saturday and Sunday were slightly better, though not much. I managed to stay awake through church. Barely.

Oddly enough, inability to maintain consciousness is not so very conducive to getting a research paper written! Go figure. This, of course, only added to the stress, which was already out of control.

Somewhere in those four days, I realized some things. As soon as I let go of the need to get the paper done, all that sleep finally turned into rest, and the overwhelming stress was lifted.

I learned a lot from that class this quarter. Not everything I learned was material presented in class, though. I really enjoyed the class. The teacher is without question one of the best I've had. One of the things I learned, though, is that the future that would follow that program is not a future I want. It sounds exciting, don't get me wrong. It's just that there are certain priorities that I try to maintain, and it is fairly clear that this road would send me in quite the opposite direction. Yes, this means I probably will never be Double 0 Spider, MacGyver, or Agent 99. However, when faced with the choice between what I want to do and who I want to be, "who" has to come out on top.

I know there are those who will read this and think I gave up. There are those who will be terribly disappointed in me. I'm a bit nervous about that. I try not to be worried about it, but these are people who are very important to me. The voice that decided to call me a quitter and failure, the other voice that has taken up the banner declaring me both stuck and useless, these are not helping matters. But the bottom line is this is the decision I had to make, and I don't question that I chose what's better for me.

One of these days I'll figure out where I am going.

In Which I Post Seemingly Random and Unconnected Comments While Stealing Esteban's Post Title Protocol

...which is itself remarkably similar to that of A.A. Milne's chapter headings in the Winnie the Pooh series.

Speaking of adorable and precocious characters, I received a link to this a few minutes ago from Dr. Recruiter. His kids themselves are adorable and precocious. His son, in fact, could be Calvin. (The cartoon. Not so much the theologian just yet.)

John Calvin and Thomas Hobbes

Speaking of Dr. Recruiter... having memorized the 16 intelligence agencies for last week's quiz, I now have to memorize for this week the 19 Directors of Central Intelligence and the years they served. I hope he doesn't count spelling. Some of those names are a bit nuts.

Another point on this track is my baptism. Dr. Recruiter, his family, another guy, and I will all be formally received into the Orthodox Church in a little less than two weeks! We have one more Sunday liturgy in which we must be spectators and not participants in Holy Communion. This is exciting! Saturday, April 26 at 9 AM, California time. (Hint hint, Paddy, E, Nathan, and Gtargirl)

This also means that there are only two more weeks of the fast! Today, my mom made soy-beef enchiladas with fake cheese for me. They weren't half bad.

Last, but not least, poor Vladimir the Laptop is relapsing. Again. His recurring condition of power connector failure is now on round three, and this time with no warranty to cover repairs. When the connector finally gives out completely, it's pretty much over for him. But wait! There is a solution that will breathe new life into a sad little laptop with heart failure! I have been shopping around for the last week, and I have found a docking station that will make a lovely pacemaker for Vladimir. Here's to several more years of partnership between him and me! (At least long enough for me to save money for a new laptop.)

Could This Be More Perfect?

I have locked in my topic for the research paper. I am now supposed to be collecting a list of thirty-five to one hundred events relating to my topic. Of the thirtyish students in class, I was one of the few that actually selected a topic. The rest of them had theirs assigned. Slackers!

So, what is my topic?

Intellipedia.

Yes, it is exactly what you think, if you're thinking it sounds like Wikipedia for the Intelligence Community. My friends, Marian the Cybrarian is back.

Meanwhile, a friend of mine is now calling me Double 0 Spider. This cracks me up.

It's Sunday, and I'm Doing School Stuff

Transcripts from all previous schools have arrived. (As of yesterday)

Topic for research paper tentatively selected and emailed to Dr. Recruiter.

Essay still in limbo.

Need to study for Tuesday's weekly quiz.

Moving Right Along

I have to say I feel a bit accomplished today. Things are happening, and they're mostly happening well!

A couple weeks ago, the confession thing was starting to weigh on me. I knew I was skating on the edge of avoidance, and I really did not want to go there. I had a chat with Father Patrick about it, and he suggested I take care of it that week.

That week, however, was last week, and last week spiraled out of control before it even started. I didn't accomplish much of anything last week, except some leg work for grad school. Last week was the best motivation ever for such things.

By this Monday I knew that if I let it go any longer, it would become avoidance. I know how hard that is to break out of, and I had no intention of getting stuck there! So, in rather faltering manner, Spider finally went to confession. I had no idea what I was doing. First time, you know? There was a good dose of first time jitters, but it wasn't too bad. I was told afterward, however, that I looked like I'd just been to the dentist. Not a bad comparison, really.

Too bad I couldn't get my teeth cleaned in the process. I'm way overdue.

I still only have transcripts from College of the Cornfields. The three SoCal schools are dragging their feet on this, but one should not expect promptness or efficiency from anything run by this state. This does not mean, however, that I am delayed in beginning grad school.

I went to my first class last night! International Relations: Political Intelligence is the class, and the professor is the one who has been helping me through the process. I'm no dummy. Other than that Chinese class, I haven't been a student for six years. I was never great at being a student, so it seemed a good plan to go with a prof I know for my first foray back into the wild world of academia.

And wild it will be! Dr. Recruiter is an exceptionally quirky geek, which I already knew. This seems to translate fabulously well into the classroom. I shall not be bored. However, I might be buried. The workload is a bit daunting. Doable, but definitely intimidating! Dr. Recruiter told us last night that there's a synonym for "Quarter System," and that synonym is "Abomination." This is a ten week class, and by the end, I will have had to write a 25-40 page paper on a topic to be determined by next Tuesday.

Yikes.

But when I look at it, I see a worthy challenge. I see a battle I can potentially win, but it's a win I will have to fight for. This, of course, will only make the eventual victory sweeter.

AAAAHHHH!!!!

Big event this Thursday.

Classes start tomorrow.

Not the greatest day at work.

Trying to find a human at the university to answer some questions.

No human in admissions, registration, or extended learning.

Not surprising.

Still haven't gotten that essay written.

Again, not surprising. Can't even think in complete sentences.

Halfway, Nearly There, and Way Out of Reach

When Lent is over, I'm getting a pizza steak.

Classes start Tuesday. I still have an essay to write and there are transcripts yet to arrive. I'm a bit nervous about this. This could, however, be partly because of the general feeling of down-ness I'm currently experiencing.

Everything's coming together so well. Why am I down? Probably because Thursday and Friday were up days, and what goes up... Yeah.

The confession thing still hasn't happened, and it needs to. It will this week. I'm far too good at going through motions and far too not good at the things that really matter. For this reason, the food related aspects of Lent have been no problem, but the follow-through on the other things has been lacking. I have a long way to go.

There's also that little detail of 3300+ miles. It's still 3300+ miles. It will continue to be 3300+ miles for the foreseeable future.

Sleepless in SoCal

Tuesday Night, 11:40 PM

Random thoughts are running through my mind. Some of them are entertaining in their nonsensicality. Since I seem to be unable to sleep, I thought I'd share.

1. It came to mind that I could change The Boy's name to Dream Man. Such a change, however, while perfectly applicable, I find to be dreadfully schmaltzy and consequently utterly nauseating. I will now accept your forthcoming gratitude for my consideration of your respective digestive tracts. ;)
   


2. In a tangentially related thought, I just realized that I might actually get to be everything I ever wanted to be! (List circa 1986-1989- before I quit dreaming)
   
1. Linguist (B.A. Linguistics, 2002)
   
2. Missionary (Russia, summer 2001-2004)
   
3. Pastor's wife (Hokey, I know, but The Boy is going to be a priest, and we're on track for this one to happen.)
   
4. MacGyver (Seriously. Maybe not so much literally, but in a somewhat less than literal sense, I'll be MacGyver. Except for the blowing things up, which is kind of a bummer. But learning how to prevent things from blowing up is pretty darn cool, too!)
   


3. Apparently, half of my dreams required me to become Orthodox, because they started coming together about ten minutes after I made that decision. Who knew?
   


4. I am entirely aware of the fact that #2 gives the impression that I was an exceedingly odd child. I was. Is that really so surprising?
   

*******************************************************

• Letters of Recommendation have been delivered.
• Application to University is completed and submitted online (including the first of the two essays)
• Transcript request for College of the Cornfields is in. Three transcript requests for local schools await today's trip to the Post Office.
• Application to NSS program is filled out.

As far as I can tell, all I have left to do is the second essay. Good thing, too. Time is short.

Active Avoidance, Passive Distraction

I remember with clarity the painful process of writing the two application essays two years ago. I was writing in one window while chatting in another, a swirly blue, Jetsons-theme-singing window. I had cheerleaders from the other side of the country. I seem to recall a grey fonted Geek, an orange dark chocolate loving enzyme guru, and a purple hockey loving ninja pastor.

No cheering section here. Just an empty office with endless opportunities for distraction. The lobby and phone have been busier today than they have in weeks. The drama of small town life has been the theme of the day. One call, one visitor after another. Visitors from the new Club Store. City Manager. City Councilman. Calls from board members, long established business people, active individual citizens. This job sometimes feels like I'm sitting on top of the world, perched happily in the crow's nest, watching things happen. Other times I'm the one cleaning the deck, or worse, the hold.

I received a packet yesterday by courier. In it were three Letter of Recommendation forms, a pamphlet about the program, several pages of catalog-type information, and the application to the program itself. Never before have I been so intrigued by a course listing for a program. Seriously, which sounds more interesting, Descriptive Linguistics* or International Relations Theory? To fulfull my course requirements, I can select such courses as HIST 521 The Soviet Union or PSCI 581 Political Economy of Russia or PSCI 622 Arms Control. Can you see me drooling? Is there any way that I won't absolutely love this?

After work today, I'll drive 32 miles round-trip to deliver Letter of Recommendation forms to my two favorite linguistics profs. The third form will go back to the man whose wife delivered it to me, for he is my future professor and the supplier of the most important recommendation. How can I go wrong when one of my recommendations is from a prof in the program?!

Transcript requests for the four previous colleges have been filled out. The online application is nearly complete. All that is left is the dreaded two-fold application essay. I'd best get the rest of my work done so as to eliminate my last rationalization for procrastination.

National Security Studies, here I come!

*Descriptive Linguistics was a core requirement in the Linguistics program. The material was fascinating and the professor eventually became one of my favorites. But let's be honest here. The class itself was the height of tedium. There were five of us in class, and we would jockey for the best seats every class session. The best seats were those immediately behind any other classmate, so as to hide the fact that we had fallen asleep. Again.

Finis

I am FAFSA'd.

Now for the application. The clock is a-ticking. Quarter starts first week of April.

No pressure, Young Arachnid.

*takes a deep breath*

I Wish I Could Go Back to College

In May of 2005, when I found out I would no longer be teaching but would henceforth be relegated to the library, I decided to go back to school and get myself a master's degree in... something. The goal was to be measurably more employable than I am with a BA in linguistics. I found a program, studied hard and did a darn good job on the GRE, applied for the program, and was rejected by the university. Not the program. The uni. The Cal State University. The Cal State University located in an area generally thought of as lower class. It was insulting. It was also devastating, as my stuckness was only reinforced. It was this rejection, in fact, which I suspect launched the three month sequence of panic attacks shortly thereafter.

It's been two years since my mad dash to improve my GPA (I got an A in Chinese), and I'm in yet another dead end job that doesn't pay enough. At least I like this job, and no one's out to get me. (!) This doesn't change the fact that I can't stay here forever, and I'm not much more employable now than I was two years ago.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, though. If I can scrape together the money to pay for it (to which purpose I am working on filling out the FAFSA), I'll be heading to grad school at some point this calendar year! A program that is absolutely perfect for me turned up at that same university. In fact, a friend and fellow catechumen at church is one of the professors, and he's been attempting to recruit me since we met.

I'm just having a bit of trouble actually getting the paperwork done. I'm scared. Counselor and I are going to tackle this tonight. Meanwhile, for motivational purposes, every number in my phone that is associated with my current job is receiving this ring tone.