I have to go into the crevasse

You know you've been in school too long...

...when you start considering new and drastic career moves, like opening a Krispy Kreme in Des Moines.

...when you call your mom while watching the playoffs to let her know that you think Lebron needs to learn how to self-soothe.

...if the very thought of going into another classroom and announcing your name, concentration and reason for taking the class makes you want to shove baby carrots up your nose.

...when you think washing your sheets and comforter is an acceptable reason to be late to class.

...if you dream of someday hanging things on your walls with something other than Blu-tack.

...if those things you dream of hanging on your walls are not posters or Chinese restaurant menus.

...when it seems perfectly acceptable to spend $50 on shoes rather than buying the $75 textbook for the class you're currently attending.

...if you have to stop yourself from scratching someone's eyes out when they say, "Well, six months isn't that long..."

...if the idea of the world ending in October pisses you off because that's before you graduate.

You are one sixing, sevening monkey-fiver!

I have worked many a job.

I've been a baby-sitter, a fast food worker, an intern, a teacher, a musical director, a clerk, a nanny, a client services representative and a grad assistant.

However, there is one position I've held more than any of these, and that is a receptionist.  And I'm AWESOME at it.

Here's what I learned being a receptionist:

• Almost everyone you meet thinks they can do your job better than you.
• A genuine smile and a pleasant attitude can save your ass.
• Not everyone gets obscure Ghostbuster humor.
• Other employees will ignore you or treat you like crap until they need a favor.
• A self-important jackass from another department will assume you have nothing to do, wait until you leave for lunch and then leave a pile of tasks on your desk with a Post-it that says, "Need by 2pm today."  He/she will do this because he/she is an unbelievable tool
• You are the last to be notified if there is cake in the break room

Tips for getting along in your next receptionist interaction:

• Be polite, damn it!
• Bring cake, damn it!

Because I have worked this job and know how to do it, I also know when somebody else SUCKS AT IT.

I have been dealing with my Financial Aid dept. quite a bit the last few weeks.  The first time I went to the office, I encountered the F.A. receptionist.  She had the people skills of a used dryer sheet.

So, when I had to go back yesterday, I decided that the last time I saw the belligerent harpy, she was simply having a bad day and I needed to be more understanding given that it could not be a magical place to work.

Upon entering the office, I saw TWO receptionists!  I headed toward the one with whom I was less familiar.

Sara: Hello, may I ask you a question?
Nice receptionist: (smiling) Sure.
Sara: (explain long-winded situation) Do you know what I should do?
NR: You know, that's been happening to other students, too.  I-
Shrew receptionist: (overhears my story and interrupts) She didn't complete her promissory note.
Sara: Oh, actually I already did that.
SR: (blank stare followed by a cricket) You did what?
Sara: I filled out the promissory note.
SR: (heavy sigh and rolled eyes) Then what holds do you have on your account?
Sara: I don't have any.
SR: (blank stare and that damn cricket again)
Sara: I had a hold but I fixed it a few days ago.
SR: I need your ID.
Sara: My student ID?
SR: I don't care.  Just one with a picture.
Sara: (I hand it over, thinking evil thoughts involving rubber cement and a monkey wrench)
SR: (looks my info up on the 'puter) Okay, the hold hasn't been lifted.
Sara: Okay, will I be notified when it is?
SR: No, you just have to keep checking.
Sara: (to SR) Thanks.  (to NR) Thank you so much!
SR: (grunts and gnaws the head off a kitten)
NR: You're welcome!


First of all, nobody likes it when you interrupt.

Second, don't talk about me like I'm not there. 

Also, while I don't doubt that many students walking into this office are incompetent morons, don't speak to me like I am one.

And finally, I want you to return to your home this evening and shove a whole mess of leafy greens, broccoli and raisin bran down your throat and wash it down with a tall glass of prune juice.  I'll bet you're wildly constipated and a good poop would do you a world of good.

An overdue rant

People drive like shit here.

I noticed this the first week I moved here last August.

Would you like a list?  I would LOVE to give you one.


I believe this is the only guidance the people of Boone receive when they get their driver's licenses:

1. Green means "go", yellow means "go" and red means "go ahead, but only if traffic is backed up.  So, you'll need to stop in the middle of the intersection and block oncoming cars from the other direction."
2. When the speed limit is posted as 35 mph, go 30 mph to be really sure you allow the person behind you appreciate the countryside.
3. If driving on a two-lane road, try not to truly commit to either lane.  Should you feel the need to go especially slow, definitely keep to the left so the person behind you can't pass.
4. Turn signals are confusing!  When coming to a 4-way stop, apply the following rules:
1. Do not come to a full stop, unless you see someone you know on the sidewalk.
2. Refrain from using turn signals, especially if actually turning.
3. If at all possible, change your mind in the middle of the intersection and try to take out any pedestrians who have been thrown off by your actions.
5. Whenever pulling out on to a busy road, make sure to do it right in front of another car that is moving quickly, and then be sure to slow down to the previously mentioned 5 under the limit.
6. Exit Only signs are funny, aren't they?  Completely disregard!
7. If all else fails, quickly get out your phone and start texting IMMEDIATELY.  Don't worry.  The people behind you will wait.
8. Should it begin raining, snowing, sleeting or snizzling, fight the urge to turn on your lights.  This kind of overuse will only burn out your bulbs sooner.  Besides, you can see, right?
9. At some point, your rearview mirrors will get knocked off.  Don't bother fixing or replacing them as it's really only important to know what's going on in front of you.
10. Should you err in your driving, avoid eye contact with the other drivers and feign ignorance.  This shouldn't be too difficult.

Now, I'm not saying I'm the best driver in the world because I think that attitude can get you into trouble, too.

What is so surprising to me, however, is that this is such a courteous and polite town.  Everyone holds doors, almost any female starting from age 2 is referred to as "ma'am, and many would return your lost wallet with an extra $20 in it because they "figured you probably had a hard day and would need it."

So, why does everyone drive like they're the only car on the road?

I don't have an answer.

I do know, however, that the next time a little old lady tries to bake me some cookies, I'm going to throw them back in her face and say, "I'd rather you take the bus!"

Trick question... or am I?

It snows in the mountains: true or false?

True!  Wait, false?  No... yes... uhh, purple?  Forty-three.  Gerald Ford!

Since I first moved here, I have been warned that Winter is long and bitchy, often giving us snow as late as May.  And yet, the residents of this little town seem to forget all that the second the weather predictions turn itchy.

I swear, every time snow, sleet, ice or all of the above are forecast for the High Country, people here flip their biscuits (a-thank you, Lisa!).


Suddenly, the parking lot at Harris Teeter is a freaking zoo, all the baskets (both big and small) are taken and hoarded, and Lucy Logic has officially taken a backseat to Annie Alarmist.


What really amuses me are the things people deem as "essentials."

So, for the most part you see baskets teeming with milk, pasta, cereal, bread, bottled water, etc.  These are the traditional items on which people choose to stock up when they think they're going to die.

On the other hand, you'll also see a couple college-age guys walking out of the grocery store with two cases of Coors and a 12-pack of toilet paper, looking pretty proud of themselves I might add.

What did I get at the grocery store, you wonder?

Thank you for asking.

I stopped off at The Teet for only the most basic items any woman may find indispensable when bombarded with the seven plagues of the apocalypse.

I got a wheel of brie and a copy of US Weekly.

Boo-yah.

Inner peace is painful

Last Thursday, Sarah and I got bitch-slapped by serenity.

That's right.  We went to a yoga class.

This involved waking up at a whopping 6:45am on a day that I don't even have class and Sarah had four or so.

I think we both get credit for just being willing to think about maybe doing that.

It was a cold and breezy day.  I remember the gustiness because my bangs are pretty similar to a quality wind-sock when a good nor'easter blows in.

This particular class is held in our Student Union.  Now, in order to get to the Union, you need to park somewhere.  If you're a student, that probably entails parking at the stadium.  This means that you walk downhill from the parking lot, through the tunnel that goes under the street and on to campus.

Then, you start your journey uphill.  This begins with two sets of stairs followed by a sharp incline through two buildings.  The incline continues until you reach the stairs to the Union.  Once inside the Union, you take TWO MORE SETS OF STAIRS just to get to the gym entrance.

By the time I got there, I was pretty much ready to call it a day.  But I knew Sarah was waiting on me and I headed for the classroom.

That girl is sweet as pie and cuter than grits!  The other people in the class probably thought we were nuts because we were hugging but still saying, "Sara(h)?  Is that you?"

So, we had a brief chat, grabbed some mats and settled in to get are qi all harnessed and our chakras totally aligned.

We were really good, by the way.  The instructor was especially impressed when we pulled out this number:

It could've happened.

The class itself was just fine.  It was pretty low-key and very relaxing.  It's so relaxing, in fact, that you don't quite realize how many muscle groups you're working until it's over.

We both waddled out on shaky legs, conveniently forgetting all the stairs and uphill and downhill climbs waiting for us.

I regret to inform you, however, that no one farted.  Not even me.  That makes this story much less spicy, but there's always next time.

Overall, it was a good experience!

I liked

• the mellow pace.
• the instructor.
• the company.

I disliked

• the mats they provided.  They smelled like corn chips and ass.
• the time, but it's actually good for me because it gets me going in the morning.
• the co-instructor, who didn't do anything except the poses.  Way to co-instruct, butthead.

So, in conclusion, I shall return with my own mat (as soon as I find a mat bag worthy of me) and with Sarah, if she will have me. 

**The link I have provided will give Sarah's abbreviated version of the story.  She was very kind as she never once mentioned what my ass looks like in sweatpants.

Get your freak on

Sometimes people are weird.

They have odd habits. They dress poorly. Maybe they have hidden quirks or idiosyncrasies. Perhaps they say whatever comes out of their mouths without thinking or filtering. Other times, they're just funny looking.

Unfortunately, every single one of these glorious characteristics is sadly lacking from the majority of the other students in my program.

I went to class today and was bombarded with regularity.

They get to class on time. The girls wear blouses and the guys wear polo shirts. They have standard notebook paper with #2 pencils. In their spare time, I'll bet several of them go to football games and mixers sponsored by the university!

Today's class was a 2 1/2 hour onslaught of normal.

I've never felt so dirty in my life.

So, this is a shout-out to all the nut-jobs out there.

I miss you, flamboyantly gay gentleman, wearing your itty bitty tees, designer sunglasses and Juicy Couture sweatpants!

I miss you, funky alternative girl, sharing every spiritual thought and feeling you have with every single person in the classroom, hoping to convince us all to do the same!

I miss you, super nerdy guy, wearing your Bugle Boy denim shorts and Everclear tee, because you think it might still be cool (not that it ever was)!

I miss you, incredibly attractive Asian girl, with your sideswept bangs, designer shoes and ridiculous power to make all the guys idolize you and make all the girls a little gay for you!

Never stop being off-beat and remarkable.

NEVER!

This is untoward! This is not toward!

Well, hell.

In about a week, I'm taking this dog and pony show on the road.

I'll be setting up shop in a complicated dichotomy of a town comprised of pot smoking, patchouli wearing, dreadlock sporting hippies as well as Bible beating, Nascar loving, small business hating Republicans.

It's too bad there isn't a middle-of-the-road student group called "Women Libbers Who Like to Shower".

I think that defines me pretty well.

There are some things to which, I know, I will adjust very nicely. For example, I already know I like minor league baseball, southern accents and Cheerwine.

There are other aspects, however, that might take an adjustment. For example, the general slower pace of the South.

Most people don't think of the Midwest as a fast-paced environment. Well, it's not. That's not the point!

The South just moves at a different rate of speed.

The news of my assistantship was supposed to come the first week in July. It came the first week in August.

A form was e-mailed to me 2 days before it was supposed to be filled out, signed by a physician and returned.

Everyone takes a little longer to return my phone calls and so far, deadlines seem like more of a suggestion than anything.

Granted, I have never been a highly organized or structured person, but I am used to a slightly less relaxed attitude toward dates and time limits.

In fact, due to my procrastination and lackadaisical attitude toward due dates, I require that structured lifestyle to make sure I pay my cable bill or brush my teeth once in a while.

I'm sure it'll work itself out.

Of course there is also the concern that my new roommates/friends might make me try to, you know, like, love nature and whatnot.

I mean, I'll go on a short hike or get a little rowdy on the playground, but I'm not sleeping in a tent and spooning a bunch of squirrels, alright?

Well, I've still got a week to think about it.

In the words of Jack Donaghy from 30 Rock, "If I wanted to lick a hippie, I'd return Joan Baez's phone calls."

How am I supposed to get into Harvard if I have no wilderness skills?

In a little more than two months, whether I'm ready or not, I'll be putting on my Student Pants once again.

On Monday, I secured a place to live for my first year of grad school. On Tuesday, I made my Fall '09 class schedule. Since my weekly productivity clearly peaked yesterday, I'm giving myself the rest of the week off.

There are already a lot of things I like better about grad school:

-my schedule gives me one class on T/W/R/F respectively
-registering for classes took me about 10 min.
-every time I call anyone at the university for assistance, I'm greeted with a mild southern drawl

There are, however, some things I will miss about undergrad:

-close proximity to my hometown
-having huge classes so no one notices if I "overslept"
-claiming I can't answer a question in Music Theory because I've been put on "vocal rest"

And still, some things remain the same:

-living in a small, hippie town at least an hour from a large city
-having all my classes in the same building
-ignoring all the nature-related opportunities for camping, hiking, canoeing, etc.

In time, I'm sure I'll fully adjust to the Boone way of life. This will probably involve making my own peanut butter, giving names to all the spiders I relocate to the outdoors and changing my name to Benevolent Ragweed Juice.

That could be a mild exaggeration, but if it isn't, there is no way in Hell I'm making my own peanut butter.

Choosy Hippies Choose Jif.

Onward, scholastic soldiers!

I can't remember if I've officially announced this or not (and I'm too lazy to check), but I'm going to grad school this Fall.

When I first started telling people of my return to academics, I got one of two very strong reactions.

Reaction A
Man 1: So, what are you up to these days?
Sara: Well, I'm heading to Appalachian State in the Fall to study marriage and family therapy.
Man 1: Wow, that sounds really interesting! Good luck with that!

Reaction B
Woman 1: So, what's next for you?
Sara: Well, I'm heading to Appalachian State in the Fall to study marriage and family therapy.
Woman 1: Oh. That's not music.
Sara: No, but I'll still sing and take lessons. I'm just really excited to, you know, have a job and insurance.
Woman 1: Huh. Well, that's... different.

Mind you, both examples of these reactions generally come from seventy-five year old men and women at my church who probably don't understand what MFT is and think it's some sort of hippie lingo the kids use these days. I don't take it personally.

I have to say, I'm really looking forward to being a student again. I know it won't be exactly like my undergrad, which makes me a little sad. There are some aspects, however, that will probably be pretty similar.

For example, when else in life can you skip showering for days at a time, order Chinese at 2am and nap in the middle of the day without someone being concerned? Should anyone have the audacity to say, "Wow, you look really tired" or "Have you recently taken up meth?", you get to smugly reply, "Don't worry about it. I'm a grad student."

It explains all manner of sins.

I do, of course, have a few reservations. Will I be able to keep up with the course load? Can I meet all the requirements? Will I be forced to interact with the surrounding wilderness?

Yeah, you heard me.

The best and worst thing about Boone, the tiny town in North Carolina that hosts App State, is the vast expanse of mountains, trees, flowers and general nature. Of course, it is absolutely beautiful... and I plan to appreciate that beauty from afar. During my two years, however, I'm sure someone is going to try and make me hike, canoe, camp, etc. God forbid.

If you have any other questions for me, feel free to drop me a comment. Or, I would direct your attention to the video clip below. Whether or not you have questions for me, I beg of you to watch it.

Stool boom!

A play about Boone, NC

http://www.horninthewest.com/show.htm

Does this remind anyone else of another show about a town starting with a B?





I knew Appalachian State was the right place for me!

Ding dong! Normal guy in the house!

Quick update:

1) Children of Eden closed yesterday after three weeks
2) I was accepted to Appalachian State
3) I got a speeding ticket on Saturday ($120)
4) Someone who saw the show told me I look like Katy Perry (I'll take it)

Also, these are some of my new favorite people:



That is Lisa, Jeff and Kate whom I met through Children of Eden and this is what we do together. I figured they were worth formally introducing because they'll undoubtedly pop up in future posts from time to time.

And yes, that's a Hawaiian burger on my plate.

4 states in 9 hours

For those of you unaware, my dad and I drove to North Carolina last Sunday/Monday.

I was invited to interview for one of twelve positions in the graduate program for Marriage and Family Therapy at Appalachian State.



The only reason this sucked a big fat one was due to my unmovable obligation Sunday evening (Children of Eden). So, my dad and I had to start our journey around 6:30pm Sunday night. That poor man drove straight through the night from Lafayette to Boone, NC while I attempted to get a few hours of sleep.

We arrived in Boone at 4am (that mess was foggy, too). Luckily, my interview wasn't until 9am, so I got a couple more hours of sleep (hahaha...ha... oh dear God).

Well, as far as I can tell, I think the interview went well enough. I tried to look relaxed but not bored, I tried to answer questions completely (and interestingly) without giving my life story and I wore red, dammit! I knew nobody else would be wearing red and I was right. In short, I'm pretty sure I won.

The highlight of this trip was a combination of the food and the sights. My dad and I ate at Mellow Mushroom pizza and the Waffle House and even managed to squeeze in the world's largest baseball bat in Louisville. Observe, if you will:

Note scary Kentucky locals in the background

God bless the South



All good interviews deserve good pizza
(It's in the Bible, I think)

Dad and I generally like "the world's largest" anything

So, even if App State decides I'm not "Mountaineer material", this was not a wasted trip. I learned several worthwhile things about myself and others. For example...

...I find fog to be a little creepy.
...my dad can drive with his eyes closed.
...I can give a relatively successful interview with little sleep and no preparation.
...Kentucky sucks.