Well hello, morning.

Today was the first day of the rest of the semester. I have this strategy that I follow every semester. During the first few weeks (basically as long as I can manage it), I let myself sleep in in the mornings. During the very first week, I don’t even set an alarm. SSShhhh, I know. I can’t believe it either. It’s my little secret. And, now, yours. Once I determine that my reading list has gotten out of control and that my productivity level needs a good shot of adrenaline, I start the daily library trek. That’s right, 8 AM, hello wonderfully vacant first floor reading room with the tables near outlets and the big, bright windows.

As we walked to campus this morning, I mentioned to my neighbor that it seemed colder than usual today. She questioned this statement, saying she didn’t notice any difference. As I wondered why I would notice it and not she, I realized that it’s the first time in a long time since I’ve walked to campus so early in the morning. First day of the rest of the semester, indeed.

Back at UCF, I could usually bribe one friend or another to join me during these library stints, but I haven’t found a dedicated library buddy here at Seton Hall. It makes me a little sad (not to mention a little terrified of my impending crazy cat lady doom) to spend my days alone in the library, but I know I’m doing this to achieve my goals and to get myself where I want to go. It’s a tradeoff I’m willing to make right now.

That being said, I may have finally decided on a shortlist for applications. It’s exciting and terrifying all at once. I may share in a few days, we’ll see. In the meantime, if you happen to hear of a university with a fantabulous Medieval lit program, let me know.

As promised.

So, as everyone knows, I recently visited Orlando, my former home-away-from-home and land where most of my best friends still live. I knew I would kick myself if I didn’t make it up to Orlando during my month-long vacation at home, but at the same time as I was extraordinarily excited to get there, I was also a little worried about possible ramifications. Namely, I was worried that I would remember how much I loved it there and would never want to leave, that I would once again be unable to see New Jersey as my new home-away-from-home and would fall back into terrible homesickness.

Quite the contrary happened while I was there. I spent some time in the UCF library, my old haunt, and walked all around campus. I revisited some of my favorite restaurants and reconnected with old friends. It was, all in all, in every way, a fantastic trip.

It was so great not only for the fact that I got to spend some time with people I have sorely missed (and continue to), but also because I was finally able to come to terms with leaving it behind. I’ve spent the last four months wondering (and wishing it were the case sometimes) what my life would be like if I had chosen to stay in Orlando. I would still be able to see my best friends on a daily basis; I would know my way around; I would have a car. I would still be living in my old comfort zone. I would not be growing and changing. (I also would not have the most adorable kitty in the world to call my own.)

As I sat beside the UCF reflection pond with book and coffee in hand, just as I’ve done 1000 times before, I finally realized that my moving away was the absolute right choice. I needed to do it, and no matter how scared I was (and still am sometimes), I know in my heart I made the right choice. I am supposed to be where I am. If I had stayed (in other words, given in to some of my biggest fears), I probably would have suffocated from claustrophobia. I’ve said it before, but now I truly believe it, I needed this change in my life.

When I moved to New Jersey, I felt that I had lost a lot of things. I worried that I would forget them, that they would no longer be a part of my life. Now, I can look at all that I have gained and appreciate where I came from. I’m no longer clinging to the past, crying over what could have been. While I was home, I spent some time trying to work out the particulars of a rather complicated relationship in my life right now, a relationship I’m not quite sure how to define. As we talked it over, the other half of this bundle of complications told me I needed to let go of things and move on. At the time, I brushed it off. I truly believed I had already done that (see here).

However, as I sat that day by the pond and thought about all the other times I had come to the very same place for solace, for peace, for comfort, for joy and about all the people I had shared parts of myself with while watching the water spill from the fountain, droplets dancing in the sun or moon, I finally did what I had been trying to do for so long (what I believed I’d already done). I just let it all go. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a simple revelation. Something so simple, but I could feel the change in me instantly.

Now I can begin to build a new life and know that in building it I am not forgetting or forsaking all that came before, but rather relying on my strong foundation to grow even higher.

And then I woke up.

I’m a big believer in fate.

Those who know I come from a religious background might question this, but fate can take many forms. Does it matter if God, gods, or bundles of sticks are controlling things? Not really. I have my own beliefs in the behind-the-scenes of it all, but the essential and important part is that I believe in fate.

Not the kind of fate that means I have no free will or that my life is predetermined by my saved or reprobate soul (sorry Calvin) or the kind of fate that one can ruin by making the wrong choices throughout life (sorry ancient gods of yore). I just believe that life presents us with situations and events that we need. They could be as simple as getting stuck in a rain shower with no umbrella to remind us that we should be more organized or as complex as a relationship meant to change our lives and alter our perceptions of the world.

I believe that fate will take me where I need to be in life. This place may not be where I envisioned it to be, and the path may not be the one I planned out for myself. Yet, I know and truly believe that it will be what is right for me and right in my life.

It seems easy, right? Just believe in fate and all will be great. Well, no. Like I said, I don’t believe that fate will simply hand me everything I want. If I want my life to go a certain way, I need to work for it. If I do, fate will make sure that I get where I’m supposed to be.

Perhaps an example will help clarify some points:

When I was applying to colleges for my undergrad studies, I had my heart set on moving out of state. I knew that CUA was the place I needed to be. I could feel it, and I wanted it so badly. I made sure that I got myself into a position come high school graduation to make this dream a reality. As much as I knew CUA was the place I needed to be, I knew that UCF was the place I did not want to be, the place that would be a terrible life decision. I’m sure that many of you are laughing right now. See, I lost hours and hours of sleep trying to figure out why I couldn’t commit to CUA. Everything had worked out like I’d planned, but something was stopping me from sending in my deposit check. Then, I woke up one morning knowing that I needed to attend UCF, knowing without a doubt that I needed to be there. I sent in the deposit check that afternoon.

I joke around sometimes, saying that I was divinely inspired to choose UCF for my post-secondary education. It makes for a more exciting tale that way, but the truth is I have no idea why I suddenly changed my mind. Fate.

I suppose there’s no saying that I wouldn’t have found a best friend in Washington, DC or that I wouldn’t have succeeded in my classes. I’m sure I would have. I may even had to chance to study abroad and to fall in love with Medieval literature, maybe. I’m not sure what about my life at UCF was so fated for me to experience, but I know that I don’t regret it and that, for whatever reason, I was meant to be there. I am who I am today because of it.

This belief in fate was difficult to hold on to when applying to graduate schools. I watched dream school after dream school turn me down, say I wasn’t good enough, thanks but no thanks. I thought I’d run out of options, that my dreams would have to wait. Then, I realized that I had all the power in the world to make things happen the way I wanted them to and ended up at a school more perfect than I believed was possible.

I don’t know exactly why I’m here. Maybe to prove to myself that I can leave everything behind and start all over on my own, far from home. Maybe to meet someone who will change my life. Maybe simply to adopt the cutest little black kitten so that he will have someone to love him for the rest of his life. Maybe, like my time at UCF, I’ll never know.

It’s been difficult remaining firm in my faith in fate as I begin to prepare for another round of PhD applications. I’d wanted to be done with this whole process, but I’ve been trying, truly trying, to approach it from a better place this time. Maybe it won’t work out the way I want it to, but it will work out the way I need it to.

Never far enough.

Sometimes I wonder why life plays cruel tricks on us. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve resolved to forget something, or to wipe it from my mind, only to find reminders of it around every corner.

In high school I couldn’t wait for college. By the middle of my Senior year, I was ready to be gone. I wanted a whole new life in a whole new place. I wanted to move beyond high school, to leave it in the past, and to embrace something entirely new. Looking back, I know this feeling of restlessness and my somewhat overwhelming feeling of needing to escape led to my obsession with moving out of state. As those of you who know me or who can recall old posts know, I did not leave my home state of Florida for college. I moved from Fort Lauderdale to Orlando – a whole three hours away. As soon as I started at UCF, I found reminders of home and my high school everywhere. I saw people from back home in my classes and walking around campus, my high school played the football states championship game in Orlando, and on and on. I felt like I’d never be far enough away from it all.

I cannot say that I felt the same when leaving UCF as I did when leaving my high school. I was so connected to UCF and to Orlando; my whole life was there. Yet, I finally achieved my goal of moving to a new state. As a friend of mine said the day before I left Florida for good, “You’ve finally done what you always said you wanted to do. That must feel great.” And it did, and it does. You learn things about yourself when you leave behind everything you’ve ever known and loved in order to pursue a dream – things that you’d never learn any other way.

I have grown and changed and become a new person in the few short weeks I’ve been here, but I’ve also been clinging to aspects of my life in Orlando. I’ve been wishing that I could have moved them here with me – my favorite UCF Starbucks, UCF’s beautiful campus that I knew like the back of my hand, my RA apartment, my level of comfort, everyone I care about. Recent events, however, have taught me that clinging to the past is the best way to ruin the present and to occlude the future. In some respects I’ve embraced my completely new life here, but under the surface, I know I’ve been desperately clutching at my comfortable UCF existence – at lunches with my older brother every week, at living mere feet from my best friend, at everything that made my life so perfect for the last few years.

I need to stop. I need to stop wishing that my UCF life will magically repeat itself here. I need to stop looking for people I know and love around every corner. I need to accept that everything is different now, even me.

And as I try to move forward, just when I think I’m no longer homesick or wishing to rewind time to the gloriousness of the summer, I’m reminded of all that I left behind in Orlando. An episode of House Hunters featured the Winter Park Farmer’s Market this afternoon, and I almost cried. I had to change the channel. I couldn’t take it – all the talk about people loving and enjoying the things I can no longer have, the things that are no longer a part of my life, the memories I want so desperately to be more than memories.

The other day I came across a quote while browsing my Pinterest feed.

You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one.

It’s time for me to stop re-reading, revisiting, and attempting to rewind. It’s time for me to acknowledge the passage of time, the change of place, and the birth of a new me.

I suppose it’s time to let go.

Pressure makes diamonds.

Ever since I can remember, people have told me that “God won’t give me more than I can handle.” I appreciate the cliché, but sometimes I also wonder who God thinks I am. How does he look at my life and myself and say “Yeah, she can handle this”?

My first two weeks of graduate school have been somewhat of an emotional roller coaster. While I feel fulfilled and happy and excited and satisfied on the one hand, my other hand is shaking under the pressure and feeling a little overwhelmed and scared and anxious and nervous. Lately, I’ve been besieged by a multitude of feelings and emotions, feelings and emotions that I have had ample time to investigate over the past two weeks. Perhaps this level of introspection arises from the fact that I have yet to begin working.  I was hired, yes, but I’m still in the paperwork phase. At first I loved all of my free time. Now, I’m remembering why I killed myself with an impossible schedule in undergrad – free time leads to more hours of worry.

I’ve been settling in quite well here, but at the same time I feel as though I’m receiving so many messages that say “Don’t stop and get comfortable here,” “Don’t get too attached,” “Decide where you’re going next,” and “DO IT ALL RIGHT NOW”! The pressure has been building, and because I’ve had so much time to contemplate just how much pressure I’ve been feeling, I’m already beginning to crack. Is it not enough to deal solely with moving hundreds of miles away from my home, my family, my friends, and my boyfriend? Must I also tackle planning the rest of my life RIGHT NOW? According to my school’s advisers, yes, I must.  I must make plans and figure it all out immediately.

In my previous post, I talked about my tendency to plan and the fact that I’ve been struggling with my compulsive need to know the next five steps in my life. Today after a frantic and rather ranting discussion with my boyfriend, I understand that it’s okay to plan as long as I don’t lose my hold on the present. He tells me that I need to stop worrying about what comes next and just live. I agree, but I also know that I will always be a worrier. He says to look to my generally successful past to assure myself that I have carved the best possible path for myself. I agree, but I also know that I have a hard time trusting myself.

See the thing is, I’ve been feeling a little conflicted about my choice of specialization. In my Hurricane-Irene-make-up class on Friday, my professor asked each of us to introduce ourselves and to state why we are currently here pursuing a graduate degree in English. Simple enough. I listened to my classmates as they spoke and lost track of time as I delighted in what a diverse and interesting group we are. Before I knew it, the class was staring at me, and I had not planned my speech. I began talking saying what came to mind and found myself recalling my experiences at UCF‘s Writing Center: “I worked at UCF’s Writing Center for two years and fell in love with working with college students and their writing… Oh, and I love Medieval literature.”

When I finished speaking, I realized that for the fist time my interest in working with students’ writing came before my love for Medieval knights, ladies, castles, and magic. What? Haven’t I spent the last two and a half years killing myself to study Medieval lit and expended all of my efforts getting to Seton Hall to do just that? Aren’t I staring down the woman whose research influenced my outlook on the whole discipline and calling her my professor? Where did this interest in “college students and their writing” come from? I freaked myself so thoroughly that I’ve spent this entire weekend stressing over how to choose a PhD field of study.

After chatting with (aka venting all of my worries and troubles to) my boyfriend tonight, I feel better. He helped me see that, yes, I must choose a field for PhD study, but choosing a primary field does not mean I must abandon all other interests. I can study Medieval literature and work with students. I can become a medievalist (or a medievalismist, as my undergrad thesis adviser called me) and still teach composition and writing (perhaps even direct a Writing Center), and it will be that very second interest that makes me, well, interesting. I am a human and not a machine. My mind and interests and passions will inevitably be multifaceted, and I should not shrink from them – I should, in fact, embrace them all.

Once again I have come to the end of a post in a much more cheerful attitude than I began, but I also know that my worries are not entirely dissolved. They are there, still, beneath my confident facade and my nascent sense of trust in my own abilities. I leave you all with the same quote that my boyfriend shared with me:

The brick walls are there for a reason. The brick walls are not there to keep us out; the brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something. The brick walls are there to stop the people who don’t want it badly enough. They are there to stop the other people!

–Randy Pausch

I know that I want this, this life in academia. I know that it is right for me. I know that I can do it and that I do not need to sacrifice any of my many interests in order to be successful. I will inevitably face disappointment and will definitely face setbacks along the way, but as my boyfriend pointed out, that has never stopped me before now.

So it is with a confident, but not cocky, voice that I say I trust God’s evaluation of my abilities and that I trust myself to make the right decisions. It is also with steady legs that I say, “Onward.”

 

What’s in a plan?

Last night I arrived at my Shakespeare class a few minutes early, and my professor began asking me about myself.  I told her all about UCF, its massive size, the English Department, living in Orlando, and my fear that the temperature in NJ has already dropped into the low 60s during the afternoons.  We eventually got onto the topic of my plans beyond Seton Hall.  I explained that I wanted to pursue a PhD and to become a college professor.  At this point the rest of my classmates began to arrive, and we ended our singular conversation.

As it happens, last night we did not participate in a “normal” class; rather, two directors of the Library came to discuss the many resources available to us as graduate students.  Because I’d already investigated these resources on my own, my mind began to wander.  I started to think about what Dr. Weisl said at our New Graduate Student Orientation: “You really need to start formulating a plan for your theses and plans after graduation.  Four semesters will be over before you realize it.  Don’t wait until the last minute to figure things out.”

This simple advice could possibly be one of the worst things I could have heard that day, and I haven’t been able to get it out of my head since.  I’m sure her advice was well intended and I’m sure that many of my classmates probably needed to hear it.  I, however, began planning my steps for post-SHU-graduation the day I decided to attend.  I’ve told you before I’m a planner.

Anyway, beset by a bout of nervousness and slight homesickness last night, I took to planning again.  Now I have a clear picture, something I can visualize in my head and work towards for the next two years. After tearing my plan from my notebook to pin above my desk as motivation, I began to wonder if perhaps I plan too much.  I felt uncomfortable.  Am I limiting myself with this plan?  Am I forcing myself into a box?  Am I setting myself up for failure, disappointment, problems?

I suppose I’ll never know the answers to those questions and for now I should probably stick to what I know – planning in comfort, planning to ease my nerves, planning for the future.  Let’s hope it all works out.

Welcome to Graduate School. You may now begin reading.

I logged in to my new student account today to check my e-mail and noticed that one of my professors posted the reading list for class in the Fall.  Out of curiosity I downloaded and opened the file, all five pages, size ten font of it.  All five pages, size ten font, single-spaced list of novels and articles of it.  Now I’m not complaining.  I knew that graduate classes would have more extensive reading lists and more intensive work loads than my undergraduate ones.  I’m also not complaining that I won’t be able to handle it.  I know that I can handle it.  I know what I want.  I want to get into a killer PhD program, and if reading a five-page, size ten font, single spaced list of postcolonial literature will help me get there, I will spend every minute reading every line of that list.  I repeat, I know what I want.  I’m also ready to do what it takes to make what I want happen.  I will give the adcoms no excuse to toss me aside.

I also know that reading every line of every reading list is probably not what I should be doing.  I know that I will have to tackle this intelligently.  I am excited to begin, to engage new muscles and develop new skills.  I am ready to find a perfect camping spot in Walsh Library and anxious to meet my new peers.  Something about opening this list, thinking back on my visit to campus, wearing my new SHU hoodie, something about all of these things tells me that life is about to get crazy.  Life is about to change, big time.

Part of my panic this past weekend arose from the fact that setting foot on my new campus, sitting for my new student ID picture, talking with my new mentor truly closed the door to UCF.  I have soaked up what UCF had to offer and am officially moving on; everything is becoming very real.  I think most people go through this experience at graduation, but since I left the commencement ceremony and walked home to my on-campus apartment (where I’m still living by the way), the finality of the moment never settled in for me.

I have posted repeatedly about being ready for change, about wanting to embrace it whole-heartedly, about moving forward full-throttle, and these desires are still true.  I still crave change, the change I have been waiting my whole life for, it seems.  I guess I’m just terrible at goodbyes, at letting go.  This is why I am a terrible decision maker.  I can never seem to let go; opportunity costs haunt me.  Perhaps I fall victim to the age-old “I want to have my cake and it too” mentality.  I’ve never thought of it that way before, but I now understand.  I want to hold on to UCF while embracing SHU.  I don’t want to lose what I had.

I guess the lesson learned today is that UCF and the people and experiences I found here will always be a part of who I am, a part of my foundation.  I should enjoy it while it lasts.

A little Vitamin C and a lot of change.

Remember that old song we all sang when we left the 8th grade?  It’s been kind of stuck in my head.  Now you can share in the experience.

As graduation approaches, I have been in a constant state of turbulent emotion.  I am excited to graduate, happy to be done with classes, to know that I accomplished something great here at UCF.  Yet, in the back of my mind, I feel like life is a ticking time bomb.  Here at UCF, at school, I have a great life.  It took me a while to build it, and now that I have it, I’m not sure I’m ready to give it up quite yet.

I can do well in classes.  I love campus, with its lawns and trees, the reflection pond, the library with its freezing basement and dusty literature shelves on the 4th floor.  I love the Teaching Academy with its giant, spinning statue of a hand, Colbourn Hall, the crumbling home of the humble English Department, site of my thesis defense.  I even love the crazy construction and the tiny trailer of a UWC I spent 30 hours a week in for so many months.

I will miss all of this, but mostly, I will miss the people.  I will miss the people who have somehow become my family away from family, the people who make me laugh and smile, the people I can call at any hour, the people I share tea and tears with on a regular basis, the people who understand the crazy path I have chosen, the people who have made this city my home for the last four years.

I am afraid to leave them.  I am afraid I will never find something so great again.  I know that the relationships I value most will not end with graduation, that no distance can break them.  Yet still, I am afraid.  I don’t want to give up my ability to visit my best friend at any time, to walk across campus to share bagels and tea (or coffee) at Einstein’s, to drive to Starbucks and know that friends will be waiting there for me.  I am afraid to leave everything I have grown attached to over the last four years.  I have built a life here, a life that I love, and in a few short days, it will all be over.  It will all change.

It’s taken me a while to come to terms with this fact, and I’m not entirely sure that I have 100%.  I know that I am ready to move on, to start something new.  I need a new challenge, a new setting, a new perspective.  It will be healthy for me right now to get away from here, to start again.  I’ve slowly come to understand that, as much as I am afraid, I am ready for this change.  I am ready to embrace a new life, to create something fabulous again.

I will not lose what I have here.  The things that matter most will follow me wherever I go.  The people I love will always be with me.  I may not be able to stargaze with my boyfriend at the reflection pond and I may not be able to share some Joffrey’s tea with my best friend, but I will still have what these people (and so many others) have given me.  I will still be the person I am finally happy to be.  My life will change, but I do not have to.  I have changed so much since my first year here that I might not even recognize myself back then.  I have become the person I’ve wanted to be for a while.  I have grown, and just because I’m moving does not mean I have to lose that.  The more things change, the more they stay the same, right?  Well, I am ready for a change.  I am ready to embrace the unknown and to attempt the impossible.  Who’s with me?

Sometimes you just need a daily jigsaw.

Click here to try it out!

If jigsaw puzzles aren’t your thing, try out Gluey.  It’s kind of like Bejeweled, but with blobs that have eyes (aka, much more fun).

In case you can’t tell, I’ve been procrastinating a lot.  A LOT.  See, I have this epic exam tomorrow.  Why so epic?  Well, it determines whether or not I will be certified as a teacher in Florida.  It determines whether or not I will graduate from UCF in one month.  It basically determines whether or not the rest of my life will happen.  No big deal, right?  Well, I tried to study.  I really did.  Honestly.  I simply could not bring myself to read past Chapter 3 of my practice book.  I felt like I was going to explode, so what did I do?  I took a practice test to gauge my knowledge and to hopefully find some motivation to study.  Well, I scored a 90% on the practice exam without ever reading any of the material.  I suppose you can see how I ended up doing virtual puzzles and playing with blobs.  Today was supposed to be my productive day.  Hopefully you all did better at sticking to your goals for today than I did.  Hopefully I don’t fail tomorrow.  Wish me luck, okay?

Faith and Perspective

I’ve been dealing a lot with faith and perspective lately.  Basically, I’ve been trying to find both.  My search has been more difficult on some days than on others.  Overall, I feel like I’m doing a pretty good job.  I feel like I’m succeeding.  I guess that explains a lot though.  I am used to succeeding.  I have always been able to set my goals and achieve them.  It’s a matter of will power more than anything else.  How badly do I want to succeed?  How much am I willing to push myself?

Over the past several years, I’ve always managed to push myself enough to get what I wanted.  Now, I’m sitting here saying, “I’ve pushed myself like I usually do.  Why aren’t things working out like they should?”  This reality has been hard to deal with, hard to understand over the past few weeks.  I wonder why God would make me want something so badly if I’m not destined to have it.  Just to taste disappointment?  I find that hard to believe.  To tell me that I didn’t push myself enough?  Again, I’m skeptical.  That just doesn’t sound like something He’d do.  I hear He’s a pretty cool guy.

So, then, I’m left with the same question.  Why do I want this so badly if I’m not destined to have it?  Why am I so academically inclined if my path in academia is meant to end this year?  Why am I happiest when I’m studying and learning and writing and revising if I’m not meant to continue doing those things?  Why?  Why?  Why?  I can’t get that word out of my head.  At this point I’m reminded of Alfred Lord Tennyson‘s “The Charge of the Light Brigade“:

Theirs not to reason why

Theirs but to do and die

My lot is simply to do and die, I suppose.  I’m just a human.  I’m not meant to have all of the answers.  ”That’s where faith comes in,” my mom would say.  I hear her and agree.  This is where faith comes in.  This is where faith fills in the holes, where I must “keep the faith” (as Miley Cyrus says).  Yes, I did just reference “The Climb.”  Get over it.  I also quoted Tennyson.  Anyway, I have been struggling with this idea for the last few weeks as my graduate school admission decisions begin to roll in.

Right now, all I know is failure.  I can’t even imagine what an acceptance letter looks like.  This is new to me.  I am used to succeeding.  I know that there is a “master plan,” or whatever you like to call it – fate, destiny, predestination – whatever floats your boat.  I know there is one.  I know that I have faith in it.  I know I trust that this master plan will take me where I need to be.  Four years ago, I refused to believe that I belonged at UCF.  Now, looking back, all I can do is laugh.  UCF is absolutely, 100% the place I needed to be for the past four years.  Why?  I don’t know.  I just know that something about my being here is right.  ”Theirs not to reason why / Theirs but to do and die,” remember?

Well, for now, I’m here doing and dying.  Dying to receive an acceptance.  Dying to know the next step in the master plan.