on real life, etc.
"it went well. yes. no. thanks for asking. i'm not sure yet."
in answer to various questions on obtaining the previously pondered masters degree and thesis screening mentioned earlier.
the room was full and popcorn was left crunched underfoot behind the shuffling mass that was kind enough to lend their eyes and ears to me on friday.
however, i have still come to the conclusion that people are still devout followers of the teachings of Darwin. and what i mean by that is simply: everyone lives their lives incredibly absorbed in themselves. survival of the fittest.
the friends and well-wishers and fellow students and smattering of random viewers in the audience became the highlighted lines over sentences in a book. long, fluorescent, drawn-out marks among the bystanders that may or may not acknowledge your achievements.
the euphoria of lavished attention, having worn off, suddenly becomes red hot furrowed brow and distracting anger at those who simply decided not to go. or the MICA faculty that seemed to revel in defying any sense of responsibility toward the student, anxiously waiting for a word. or the simple fact of the competitive and scarce job opportunities within the city i have embraced so tightly. or the fact that now my time can be stretched quite far and wide again. one day without deadline and my heart sinks.
and yes here is my fifteen minutes of commendable work, but to make more and be paid is walking naked in melted salt water taffy.
and here i am with your coffee, and the thirty-year olds recognize me from somewhere at parties.
"oh yes, the coffee shop."
and their darting eyes move with a blink to the nearest respectable man or woman who makes a yearly salary.
no longer am i "in grad school."
should i now answer that question with "...in a coffee shop but i have a masters"?
or would that seem a little conspicuous?
i like biding some hours in my lower class job.
but does word of mouth carry that far?
"yes, i know that girl. the one with the mohawk?"
small little ripples in a small pond.
often i find myself staring out of windows.
and i am at dinner or work:
"i'm sorry, what was that last part? i didn't hear you."
in answer to various questions on obtaining the previously pondered masters degree and thesis screening mentioned earlier.
the room was full and popcorn was left crunched underfoot behind the shuffling mass that was kind enough to lend their eyes and ears to me on friday.
however, i have still come to the conclusion that people are still devout followers of the teachings of Darwin. and what i mean by that is simply: everyone lives their lives incredibly absorbed in themselves. survival of the fittest.
the friends and well-wishers and fellow students and smattering of random viewers in the audience became the highlighted lines over sentences in a book. long, fluorescent, drawn-out marks among the bystanders that may or may not acknowledge your achievements.
the euphoria of lavished attention, having worn off, suddenly becomes red hot furrowed brow and distracting anger at those who simply decided not to go. or the MICA faculty that seemed to revel in defying any sense of responsibility toward the student, anxiously waiting for a word. or the simple fact of the competitive and scarce job opportunities within the city i have embraced so tightly. or the fact that now my time can be stretched quite far and wide again. one day without deadline and my heart sinks.
and yes here is my fifteen minutes of commendable work, but to make more and be paid is walking naked in melted salt water taffy.
and here i am with your coffee, and the thirty-year olds recognize me from somewhere at parties.
"oh yes, the coffee shop."
and their darting eyes move with a blink to the nearest respectable man or woman who makes a yearly salary.
no longer am i "in grad school."
should i now answer that question with "...in a coffee shop but i have a masters"?
or would that seem a little conspicuous?
i like biding some hours in my lower class job.
but does word of mouth carry that far?
"yes, i know that girl. the one with the mohawk?"
small little ripples in a small pond.
often i find myself staring out of windows.
and i am at dinner or work:
"i'm sorry, what was that last part? i didn't hear you."