Grad School Dreams

I’m really lacking on the content lately, guys. I know. I’m not doing anything very interesting with my life and most of the discussable news topics are so sad that I don’t want to rehash them outside of actual, face-to-face conversations. No one wants to listen to me complain about the state of the economy, job market, social issues, and wars around the world.

Outside of that, I need to talk about something because the whole point of picking the blog back up is to start viewing it as a practice for possible future jobs: semi-regular blogging schedule, actual content, the whole shebang.

So today, we’re going to talk about grad school. 

I’m applying to two grad school programs but technically it’s three grad schools. Confusing, huh?

I’m planning to apply to UNC Greensboro for a Masters in Library and Information Science. Technically, I guess I could call this my ‘safety school’ even though I hate that term. It’s the school that I’m not entirely worried about getting into, unlike the following program.

My dream program is this dual degree program at NYU that also means taking classes with Long Island University. Upon completion, I’d possess not only a Masters in Communication (technically Media, Culture, and Communication but we’ll stick with COMM for short) but also a Masters in Library Science.

My attraction to this program is two-fold. Obviously, I want to work with books one day. I’ve dreamed of being an editor since as long as I can remember but I’m also aware of how few and far between those careers exist. So being a librarian? Pretty perfect consolation prize. I’m also a huge knowledge geek. I love to learn and to teach and to be taught. The ability to work in a field in which those are regular occurrences? Sign me up now!

On top of that, I fell in love with my communication program when I was working on my Bachelors. The reason I’m aiming for the dual degree is because the areas of study appeal to me. Two of them, if we’re being precise and I’m going to have to narrow that down to one. Right now though, I’m really interested in their Interaction and Social Processes area and their visual culture and cultural studies area.

So basically, the NYU program needs to be my future or I might die. Like, to death.

Okay. Teen Wolf inspired hyperbole aside, I’m going to work my butt off trying to make this a reality. 

Wish me luck!

The basics

For my first post after reintroducing myself to my blog, I’m going to do one of my ‘currently’ posts because why not tell you guys what I’m watching/reading/listening to at the moment?

Currently Reading: Winter’s Tale by Mark Helprin. Yes, this is the book that newish Colin Farrell movie is based upon. The book is… rough to get into. But it was my grandmother’s favorite book. It was passed down to my aunt and then my stepdad and then to me so even though I’m struggling with it a bit, I’m reading it for them. If you knew these people, you’d know they don’t recommend books on a whim. It’ll be worth it.

Currently Watching: Greek. And crying my eyes out. This finale makes me cry like a baby EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I’m not sure what my next show is going to be. Maybe Weeds? I’ve heard great things. I really want to get into Shameless but I’m more into shows that are already finished so we’ll see.

Currently Listening: Oh Honey! Omg, I’m obsessed with this band. I heard their song ‘be okay’ on the radio and it’s my go-to happy place song. Sometimes you just need something fun and refreshing!

Missing in Action

holy canoli guys! I’ve been gone for a LONG TIME.

Work got a bit… hectic in the most negative way possible and after getting myself out of a very hostile and toxic environment, I’m back in the cyber world!

What am I going to write about? well, WHO KNOWS?! But it’s time to stop keeping all my thoughts in my head because it can get stressful!

I hope you guys are ready to be seeing more of me on your reader. If not, I’m sorry! I just hope you can enjoy whatever comes out of my silly little head for the time being.

Life Update.

So, I’ve been sick as hell for the last week or so and insanely busy with work and my roommate’s senior art show before that so I’m been kind of MIA. I’ve had a lot of thoughts of what to post about but no time to write them out so we’re gonna do a quickie right now and update you guys on my ‘currently’ list at the moment.

Currently Listening: I recently downloaded Spotify so I’m all about finding new music so there’s a major variety going on there. I’m also loving Betty Who more and more than ever. I downloaded her EP months ago but I’ve just been really loving it more lately.

Currently Reading: I just finished Mindy Kaling’s “Is everyone hanging out without me?” and it was amazing. I highly recommend it! After finishing it, I finally started John Green’s “The Fault in Our Stars” so I’ll be crying for the next few days.

Currently Watching: “Don’t trust the B- in apartment 23” and what is my life? It’s hilarious. I wasn’t expecting it to be amusing but now I’m adoring it. Everyone should check it out!

Fun but relatively useless fact that I learned during my workout today.

Hey guys! Just stopping by to post some useless information that I learned today during this ridiculously insane week of work!

I’ve mentioned on here that I do yoga as a way to help my back. Most of the poses for stretching my back use very little balance. That’s the preface to this post.

Anyone who knows me knows that I have kinda crap balance. I tend to trip easily and lose my footing quite a bit. That’s why the lack of balance-heavy poses for my yoga routine is amazing: no risk of hurting myself or others when I fall on my ass or face.

Well, today, out of curiosity, I decided to try out a new pose, just for the hell of it. Let me tell you know, the pose I’m about to mention is not a hard pose. It is not a hard pose. Got it? But I’ve never attempted any of the balance poses because standing on two feet is hard enough for me, let alone one foot or, god forbid, my hands!

Today, I found out that I can do the tree pose.

yoga-tree-pose1

 

Like I said, not that complicated, but I can’t even tell you how excited I was because holy shit, I can balance y’all. I’m so happy you guys!

Yeah, that’s all. I’m a nerd, I know.

I wrote a post a while back for another blog I’m sometimes a part of about my three favorite yoga poses and why I like them and yada yada. I may post that up here later this week if I’m not completely swamped in exhaustion.

I hope you’re all well.

Death is hardest on those you leave behind.

My grandfather died when I was 16 years old. Seven years ago, yesterday, to be exact.

Today would have been his 85th birthday.

In honor of him and the amazing, wonderful man that he was, I’ve decided to share something I wrote about him a year or so after his passing.

Tobacco and Peppermint

My granddaddy was always the strong, silent type. I’ve never even heard him raise his voice in anger. He loved his family and nothing made him happier than being with the ones he loved and seeing them smiling and laughing. 

Being the youngest of his grandchildren, my sister and I were considerably more spoiled. The fact that we lived further away than his other grandchildren (who were all of driving age or really close to it by the time we were born and, therefore, could always come over whenever they wanted) also warranted spoiling whenever we did see him. We were rarely turned down for anything we wanted. We never got in trouble and, when we did, Granddaddy was never the one to punish us. He left that for Grandma. 

I don’t remember much about him from my childhood, before he was sick. I regret that I didn’t see him as often as I should. What I do remember are little tidbits. I remember his old shop which, though is still standing to this day, wasn’t put to much use as I got older except as a base point for my sister, Ashley, and I on the golf cart. I remember Granddaddy showing me how to hold a kitten the first time I had ever seen one. I remember shelling peas or peeling potatoes or washing fresh cabbage from the garden under the car port before the back porch was built. I remember curling up in his old leather chair to watch TV, usually Jeopardy! or Wheel of Fortune, before bed because his chair was always more comfortable than Grandma’s chair. However, the one thing that I remember most of all is how he always smelled of tobacco and peppermint. I’m still hit by a ton of bricks every time I walk into the house and the scent still lingers on the furniture, in the laundry, in the air. 

For as long as I can remember, my Granddaddy chewed tobacco. I always thought it was the most disgusting thing in the world. It always looked so gross and I hated when I would stumble upon one of his spit cups. My grandma always had peppermints, I remember that vividly. She still does, in fact, because I always steal some when I’m at the house. I guess Grandma made him eat the peppermints a lot to cover the smell or something like that because every time I hugged him, hell, every time I was in the same room as him, I could smell the tobacco and the peppermints. It became a comfort to me as I grew up and everything around me seemed to be changing, it was something always present, always solid, always the same. 

As he got sicker, Granddaddy stopped chewing tobacco due to it being so bad for his health. The smell started to fade much like he did. I didn’t see him a lot once I hit puberty. My life suddenly took precedent. I regret that now. I regret hardly seeing him and I regret not spending as much time with him as I should have. My granddaddy is with the angels now, where he was always meant to be, but that doesn’t stop me from missing the smell of tobacco and peppermint. I know he’s happier now though. And that is a slightly better comfort. The smell continued to linger in the house and I continued to love going over there because that smell was the slightest comfort I had throughout all the issues that popped up in school and at home. 

The house was sold a few months ago. My grandmother now lives in a smaller home on my family’s property between Beulaville and Richlands. I think part of the move had to deal with her not wanting to live alone, surrounded by the walls they made a home for decades and the memories he left behind. However, she will only tell us that it was so she’d be near people and not in such seclusion, in case something happened. 

Whenever I drive by the road the house is on, I’m always tempted to drive by it, to remember the Easter egg hunts and the cook-outs and the Christmas dinners. On a few sporadic occasions, I’m tempted to pull over, maybe even ask to go in, just to see if the smell still lingers in the air, tobacco and peppermint in the pillows, the bed spreads, the couch cushions, everything. But I don’t. I just keep driving and allow the emotional memories to overpower the physical ones. 

However, every once in a while, when I’m not really concentrating on anything in particular, I’ll get a whiff of it, that pungent mixture of bitter tobacco and sweet peppermint. And it’s at those moments that I can’t help but think he’s watching over me, keeping me safe and making sure I do what’s right with my life. My very own guardian angel.