Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Why grad school is not the best choice for everyone
The semester started on January 21st, but it wasn't until April 15th that I received the syllabus for one of my classes this term. And I still haven't heard from my professor at all (the ladies who run the front office for my department sent me the syllabus).
Moreover, I still have to complete all the work of a semester in less than 2 1/2 weeks time.
And this despite repeated attempts on my behalf to contact my professor and receive my assignments. In fact, the only reason that the syllabus was given me was because of my last attempt to contact the department so that there are no issues when it comes time to graduate in May.
I don't point this out to give my university a bad reputation, or really even to drag my professor through the mud. But it did remind me of all the times in my undergraduate and graduate career that teachers failed to live up to their responsibilities as educators. While the work isn't really that difficult, it is really disappointing that my repeated emails and phone calls go unanswered. Especially because I pay full out-of-state tuition. And because I want to do well.
I spent the past 3 years living like a hermit, focusing all my energies on my studies (if you don't believe me, just ask Anthony, my poor neglected boy), and it upsets me when professors at my university do not recognize that. It's a simple courtesy to send a few lines by email or to pick up a phone, even if it's just to say that you're too busy to respond fully at the moment or to help out in a project. That is the kind of thing I appreciate, particularly considering the fact that for every 3 credits (1 course), I shell out approximately $3,000.
So if you are a teacher, please make those of us who pay tuition feel like we're receiving the service we pay for: return our phone calls, write us an email...heck, a messenger pigeon would be pretty darn awesome, too.
Moreover, I still have to complete all the work of a semester in less than 2 1/2 weeks time.
And this despite repeated attempts on my behalf to contact my professor and receive my assignments. In fact, the only reason that the syllabus was given me was because of my last attempt to contact the department so that there are no issues when it comes time to graduate in May.
I don't point this out to give my university a bad reputation, or really even to drag my professor through the mud. But it did remind me of all the times in my undergraduate and graduate career that teachers failed to live up to their responsibilities as educators. While the work isn't really that difficult, it is really disappointing that my repeated emails and phone calls go unanswered. Especially because I pay full out-of-state tuition. And because I want to do well.
I spent the past 3 years living like a hermit, focusing all my energies on my studies (if you don't believe me, just ask Anthony, my poor neglected boy), and it upsets me when professors at my university do not recognize that. It's a simple courtesy to send a few lines by email or to pick up a phone, even if it's just to say that you're too busy to respond fully at the moment or to help out in a project. That is the kind of thing I appreciate, particularly considering the fact that for every 3 credits (1 course), I shell out approximately $3,000.
So if you are a teacher, please make those of us who pay tuition feel like we're receiving the service we pay for: return our phone calls, write us an email...heck, a messenger pigeon would be pretty darn awesome, too.
I’m now in week three of Hal Higdon’s novice training program for running a half marathon. I’d like to say that I’m kicking a$$ and taking names, but the reality is that my body currently hates me and is staging a revolt. A very painful revolt.
It didn’t help that I volunteered to take part in the Regional Security Office’s volleyball team for the Embassy Games – the Embassy’s version of the Olympics. Not only did we lose three games in a row, thereby ensuring that we wouldn’t be playing in the semi-finals, we also made sure that my legs, back and arms were in so much pain that I remained in traction on the couch all day Sunday.
Thankfully, by Monday, I was enough recovered for a 3.5 mile run. The only thing that remains to remind me of my volleyball days is a few greenish bruises on my forearms and the back of my hands, some mild nerve damage in my fingers, and what feels like a charlie-horse in my left quad. But these things will all heal in time, and I can continue to train for that half marathon I (insanely) signed up for.
So, what is this half-marathon in which you were crazy enough to enlist, you ask? It’s called the Pacasmayo International Marathon and runners of all ages and abilities are invited to participate in a full marathon, a half marathon, a 10k, or a 5k. The event takes place over the 4th of July weekend in Pacasmayo, a small beach town on the northern coast of Peru known for its surfing. This year the proceeds from the race will go to purchase supplies for Olga Enders de Ugás, a Pacasmayo food kitchen for children and the elderly.
Of course, I immediately signed up for the half marathon, thinking that the full marathon would be too much for my first attempt at something of this sort. What I didn’t stop to consider was the fact that, even at my peak form in high school, the farthest I have ever run in my life at one time was 5 miles. And a half marathon is a little over 13 miles. At this stage in my training, I imagine I will be eating the dust of little old ladies as they pass me by with their speedy aluminum walkers. Good times.
Clearly, you should be wishing me luck now. Barrels of it.
It didn’t help that I volunteered to take part in the Regional Security Office’s volleyball team for the Embassy Games – the Embassy’s version of the Olympics. Not only did we lose three games in a row, thereby ensuring that we wouldn’t be playing in the semi-finals, we also made sure that my legs, back and arms were in so much pain that I remained in traction on the couch all day Sunday.
Thankfully, by Monday, I was enough recovered for a 3.5 mile run. The only thing that remains to remind me of my volleyball days is a few greenish bruises on my forearms and the back of my hands, some mild nerve damage in my fingers, and what feels like a charlie-horse in my left quad. But these things will all heal in time, and I can continue to train for that half marathon I (insanely) signed up for.
So, what is this half-marathon in which you were crazy enough to enlist, you ask? It’s called the Pacasmayo International Marathon and runners of all ages and abilities are invited to participate in a full marathon, a half marathon, a 10k, or a 5k. The event takes place over the 4th of July weekend in Pacasmayo, a small beach town on the northern coast of Peru known for its surfing. This year the proceeds from the race will go to purchase supplies for Olga Enders de Ugás, a Pacasmayo food kitchen for children and the elderly.
Of course, I immediately signed up for the half marathon, thinking that the full marathon would be too much for my first attempt at something of this sort. What I didn’t stop to consider was the fact that, even at my peak form in high school, the farthest I have ever run in my life at one time was 5 miles. And a half marathon is a little over 13 miles. At this stage in my training, I imagine I will be eating the dust of little old ladies as they pass me by with their speedy aluminum walkers. Good times.
Clearly, you should be wishing me luck now. Barrels of it.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
The intern
There is yet another warm body living in our house these days: Anthony's office's intern. He moved in last Thursday and he's already putting us to shame. He's the guy who still survives on 2 hours or less of sleep at night, drinks until 4AM and still gets to work by 8AM, and crushes the ladies at all the local bars and clubs. I think we see him, on average, for 2 or 3 minutes a day.
I like to think I'm setting an example by being so studious and staying at home like a hermit, but secretly I think he prefers his own lifestyle. Not that there's anything wrong with that (a little Seinfeld humor, folks).
Well, I certainly didn't turn the tide in my favor this past Friday. I was going grocery shopping and he decided to come with me. On our way home, we hit the dreaded rush-hour (which lasts a good 6 hours a day here) traffic and I decided (stupidly) to try to take a side road to avoid the main route. What we ended up doing was circling back to the supermarket parking lot. TWO HOURS LATER.
And let me clarify this, guys: the supermarket is a 5 minute drive from my house under clear traffic conditions.
We traveled through some of the nicest and not-so-nice neighborhoods in the surrounding area, without once finding a street or reference point that looked at all familiar. I eventually stopped for directions and we slowly, painfully, and embarrassingly (for me) made our way, defeated, back to the Wong's (the supermarket).
All I can say is this: Russell will never, ever, NEVER volunteer to go to the supermarket with me again.
I like to think I'm setting an example by being so studious and staying at home like a hermit, but secretly I think he prefers his own lifestyle. Not that there's anything wrong with that (a little Seinfeld humor, folks).
Well, I certainly didn't turn the tide in my favor this past Friday. I was going grocery shopping and he decided to come with me. On our way home, we hit the dreaded rush-hour (which lasts a good 6 hours a day here) traffic and I decided (stupidly) to try to take a side road to avoid the main route. What we ended up doing was circling back to the supermarket parking lot. TWO HOURS LATER.
And let me clarify this, guys: the supermarket is a 5 minute drive from my house under clear traffic conditions.
We traveled through some of the nicest and not-so-nice neighborhoods in the surrounding area, without once finding a street or reference point that looked at all familiar. I eventually stopped for directions and we slowly, painfully, and embarrassingly (for me) made our way, defeated, back to the Wong's (the supermarket).
All I can say is this: Russell will never, ever, NEVER volunteer to go to the supermarket with me again.
Who's the old lady?
I am.
I started my half-marathon training regimen last week and I gotta admit it: I'm and OLD FART. (Yeah, mom, that makes you ANCIENT. Older than ancient, even. According to my tally, you pre-date dirt.)
I'm up to about 3 miles before my lungs give out and that little hollow space where my kidney used to be starts screaming, "WHAT THE HELL, YOU CRAZED PSYCHOPATH?!!!" There's also the back problems, which I thank you so profusely for, Da' Momma.
The upside is that the stretches I do after running are pretty beneficial for my back. The unanticipated downside is that running for miles on end does nothing to quell the exuberance of Maggie the Monster Dog. I now believe she could run the whole marathon herself and still come home to eat the furniture.
The marathon (of which I will only be doing half - I can only be so masochistic) will be taking place over the Fourth of July weekend in Pacasmayo. If you're interested in reading more about the event, it's the Pacasmayo International Marathon. Whether you read up on it or not, please wish me luck. I can only hope that I survive.
I started my half-marathon training regimen last week and I gotta admit it: I'm and OLD FART. (Yeah, mom, that makes you ANCIENT. Older than ancient, even. According to my tally, you pre-date dirt.)
I'm up to about 3 miles before my lungs give out and that little hollow space where my kidney used to be starts screaming, "WHAT THE HELL, YOU CRAZED PSYCHOPATH?!!!" There's also the back problems, which I thank you so profusely for, Da' Momma.
The upside is that the stretches I do after running are pretty beneficial for my back. The unanticipated downside is that running for miles on end does nothing to quell the exuberance of Maggie the Monster Dog. I now believe she could run the whole marathon herself and still come home to eat the furniture.
The marathon (of which I will only be doing half - I can only be so masochistic) will be taking place over the Fourth of July weekend in Pacasmayo. If you're interested in reading more about the event, it's the Pacasmayo International Marathon. Whether you read up on it or not, please wish me luck. I can only hope that I survive.
Light at the end of the tunnel
I am nearly done with my graduate degree. As of this moment, only 2 papers stand in the way of my diploma, one of which will be complete on or around Easter Sunday. This, of course, reminds me that every holiday and every long weekend over the last three years has been spent reading, researching, or writing so that I can successfully complete my masters degree. All that effort, all the blood, sweat and tears are now bringing about what I wanted: a MPA and the hope that I can get a job that has nothing to do with security, protection, criminal casework, or carrying a gun.
Granted, I am graduating in the midst of an economic crisis that has wreaked havoc on the employment prospects of thousands of hard-working Americans (not to mention other nationalities), but I am hopeful that my experience, academics and charisma (ha!) will help me land a new career - one that I can be proud of and happy to serve in.
In any case, I will be celebrating in May, several times over. My friend Ali, who is the Peace Corps Lima volunteer, has been pestering me since I met her to just forget about the books and get really drunk so I have allowed her to think she is planning a big night of drinking and dancing for me. Anthony has been informed that he will be treating me to dinner at Rafael, one of the nice fancy-schmancy restaurants here in Lima, and that all my Lima friends will be invited to some kind of grown-up, mature cocktail-hour type event. And then, as a treat to myself, I have indulged in the purchase of a guided trek to Machu Picchu with my dear friends Eric, Marilyn and Celia, who arrive just prior to my final paper due date.
The exciting news is that yesterday I finally purchases my roundtrip flight to Cuzco, which only cost me a little over US$130 (I got the tickets on special!!!). This saves me from the 24+ hour bus ride (each way) and makes the trip one step closer to realized. It's gonna be AWESOME.
Granted, I am graduating in the midst of an economic crisis that has wreaked havoc on the employment prospects of thousands of hard-working Americans (not to mention other nationalities), but I am hopeful that my experience, academics and charisma (ha!) will help me land a new career - one that I can be proud of and happy to serve in.
In any case, I will be celebrating in May, several times over. My friend Ali, who is the Peace Corps Lima volunteer, has been pestering me since I met her to just forget about the books and get really drunk so I have allowed her to think she is planning a big night of drinking and dancing for me. Anthony has been informed that he will be treating me to dinner at Rafael, one of the nice fancy-schmancy restaurants here in Lima, and that all my Lima friends will be invited to some kind of grown-up, mature cocktail-hour type event. And then, as a treat to myself, I have indulged in the purchase of a guided trek to Machu Picchu with my dear friends Eric, Marilyn and Celia, who arrive just prior to my final paper due date.
The exciting news is that yesterday I finally purchases my roundtrip flight to Cuzco, which only cost me a little over US$130 (I got the tickets on special!!!). This saves me from the 24+ hour bus ride (each way) and makes the trip one step closer to realized. It's gonna be AWESOME.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
How did I get to be so sweet? I took lemons and made lemonade...
My friend Carolyn (bless her heart, and her little kickypants) recently nominated me for a Lemonade Award, which is an award for blogs showing great attitude or gratitude. Since I'm a little light on the gratitude, I'm assuming she thinks my attitude is pretty darn positive. Aw shucks!My feeling of the whole thing is that it's a kind of chain letter that let's your friends, family, or complete strangers know that you really enjoy reading their life stories.
So here are the rules:
1) Put the logo on your blog or post.
2) Nominate at least 10 blogs that show great attitude or gratitude, (i.e. turn lemons into lemonade)
3) Link to your nominees within your post.
4) Let the nominees know that they have received this award by commenting on their blog.
5) Share the love and link to the person from who you received your award.
Yet it turns out that my Blogosphere is quite small and I really only have 2 nominees. I used to know more people that blogged, but one by one their blogging has fallen to the wayside and I am left with a limited few who, like myself, occassionally find a few free moments to write. So here's a big ol' electronic nod to the 2 people who update, who make me laugh, and are unerringly positive, or at least sarcastic (which in my book is WAY better):
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