Mission accomplished
Happy April!
I am going to Berkeley! They finally offered me funding, and although it is not, alas, as juicy as Cornell's (or even, as far as the first year offer is concerned, as Santa Cruz's), it is sufficient, and I have accepted the offer and I am going to Berkeley!
(This school, I might add, was the most difficult to apply to. The online system did not work properly, and I kept waiting for it to be fixed, and it kept not being fixed, and I kept corresponding with the department to no avail, until the day it was due the system would still not work properly, so I printed everything out in hardcopy, stood in line at the post office to get a money order for the application fee, and went to the university to send it in, only to discover, to my horror, that since it was a weekend, the doors were locked and there was no way to get into the building to deliver the application. Calmer minds might have thought that since the application deadline fell on a weekend, as long as it was in by the following Monday all was well, but my mind was anything but calm, and I had a mini-meltdown until, on our fourth trip round the building (or so), Daniel spotted some people inside and banged on the door until they let us in. And so all was well. He mentioned that later we would laugh, and I whimpered and sobbed, but then today, after all the paperwork was completed, we laughed. So he was right. Because he's cute.)
Round-up
We've been doing nice things lately! We went to Tilden and saw pretty wildflowers, and went to the Tchaikovsky Perm Ballet and Orchestra's performance of Swan Lake, which was fabulous in many different ways: the costumes, the general quality of the dancing, the staging, the costumes, the choreography and unity of the ensemble pieces (which, since we had cheap, high-up seats, we were in a great position to admire. Those angles and positions on stage were flawless!), and, of course, the costumes. I would mention, however, that the choreography of the singles and couples dances left a bit to be desired. It usually went as follows: Here's a pretty pose. Watch me hold the pretty pose. Watch me hold another pretty pose. Watch me do some impressive jumps/spins. Watch me lift my partner while she strikes a pretty pose. Watch me spin my partner while she strikes a pretty pose. Oh, is it time to end? Let's do one more pretty pose before we bow to wildly disproportionate applause. Yes, a minute and a half of fouettés is pretty cool, but not when it's the entirety of your dance besides the pretty poses. And speaking of posing prettily, Odette was much too thin to do it. She posed all right, but it didn't look pretty. I know emaciation is a problem in ballet, and to some extent I'm prepared for it, but I was amazed this woman had the strength to walk across the stage, let alone dance the whole performance. Fortunately, Swan Lake has quite a lot of ensemble stuff, so we didn't have to watch too much of her boniness, and overall it was fabulous. People, if this company comes on tour to the nearest big city to you, it is not to be missed.
I have also been given a raise at work--not in terms of cash, but in terms of work-load. Apparently, since I've decided not to switch health plans for the few months before I leave (to go to Berkeley!), something about the percentage of full-time employees enrolled in the health plan is bad, so I need to be no longer full-time. So now I work half a day a week less for the same pay. Very convenient!
Speaking of health
Daniel does not understand the phenomenon of the psychosomatic symptom. I understand that he has never experienced the tummy-ache on the morning he doesn't want to go to school, because he's just that fabulous, but it's interfering with his ability to reassure me. For example: I feel as if my tooth has been hurting for a week or so now, and so naturally I'm thinking all sorts of horrible things: advanced cavities, tooth falling out, root canal, bankrupting dental bills, and so on. (Parents, do not be alarmed. I have dental coverage and I will be seeing a dentist in early May.) On the other hand, it's kind of intermittent, and since I've started paying attention to my teeth, I'm noticing all sorts of twinges in other areas that I otherwise would not have worried. Yes, I haven't seen a dentist for something like two years, but I've only had one cavity in my life (well, two, if you count the one in the baby tooth, but that fell out a long time ago), and since I brush twice and floss once a day and drink fluoridated tap water, I think it's highly unlikely I have cavities in all of those half a dozen places I've felt twinging. So I mention this to Daniel and say that it's probably my brain telling me I'm uncomfortable without having seen a dentist in so long, and probably nothing's wrong--it's all in my head. Now obviously the right thing to say in response is, "Of course it's all in your head, dear; I'm sure there's nothing wrong." But he gives me instead a perplexed look and asks, "Why would you make up an illness?" This is not reassuring.
However, I will finish on a high note, by saying that since I've learned I was accepted to Berkeley my teeth have felt fine. Therefore, it was all in my head. The end.
I am going to Berkeley! They finally offered me funding, and although it is not, alas, as juicy as Cornell's (or even, as far as the first year offer is concerned, as Santa Cruz's), it is sufficient, and I have accepted the offer and I am going to Berkeley!
(This school, I might add, was the most difficult to apply to. The online system did not work properly, and I kept waiting for it to be fixed, and it kept not being fixed, and I kept corresponding with the department to no avail, until the day it was due the system would still not work properly, so I printed everything out in hardcopy, stood in line at the post office to get a money order for the application fee, and went to the university to send it in, only to discover, to my horror, that since it was a weekend, the doors were locked and there was no way to get into the building to deliver the application. Calmer minds might have thought that since the application deadline fell on a weekend, as long as it was in by the following Monday all was well, but my mind was anything but calm, and I had a mini-meltdown until, on our fourth trip round the building (or so), Daniel spotted some people inside and banged on the door until they let us in. And so all was well. He mentioned that later we would laugh, and I whimpered and sobbed, but then today, after all the paperwork was completed, we laughed. So he was right. Because he's cute.)
Round-up
We've been doing nice things lately! We went to Tilden and saw pretty wildflowers, and went to the Tchaikovsky Perm Ballet and Orchestra's performance of Swan Lake, which was fabulous in many different ways: the costumes, the general quality of the dancing, the staging, the costumes, the choreography and unity of the ensemble pieces (which, since we had cheap, high-up seats, we were in a great position to admire. Those angles and positions on stage were flawless!), and, of course, the costumes. I would mention, however, that the choreography of the singles and couples dances left a bit to be desired. It usually went as follows: Here's a pretty pose. Watch me hold the pretty pose. Watch me hold another pretty pose. Watch me do some impressive jumps/spins. Watch me lift my partner while she strikes a pretty pose. Watch me spin my partner while she strikes a pretty pose. Oh, is it time to end? Let's do one more pretty pose before we bow to wildly disproportionate applause. Yes, a minute and a half of fouettés is pretty cool, but not when it's the entirety of your dance besides the pretty poses. And speaking of posing prettily, Odette was much too thin to do it. She posed all right, but it didn't look pretty. I know emaciation is a problem in ballet, and to some extent I'm prepared for it, but I was amazed this woman had the strength to walk across the stage, let alone dance the whole performance. Fortunately, Swan Lake has quite a lot of ensemble stuff, so we didn't have to watch too much of her boniness, and overall it was fabulous. People, if this company comes on tour to the nearest big city to you, it is not to be missed.
I have also been given a raise at work--not in terms of cash, but in terms of work-load. Apparently, since I've decided not to switch health plans for the few months before I leave (to go to Berkeley!), something about the percentage of full-time employees enrolled in the health plan is bad, so I need to be no longer full-time. So now I work half a day a week less for the same pay. Very convenient!
Speaking of health
Daniel does not understand the phenomenon of the psychosomatic symptom. I understand that he has never experienced the tummy-ache on the morning he doesn't want to go to school, because he's just that fabulous, but it's interfering with his ability to reassure me. For example: I feel as if my tooth has been hurting for a week or so now, and so naturally I'm thinking all sorts of horrible things: advanced cavities, tooth falling out, root canal, bankrupting dental bills, and so on. (Parents, do not be alarmed. I have dental coverage and I will be seeing a dentist in early May.) On the other hand, it's kind of intermittent, and since I've started paying attention to my teeth, I'm noticing all sorts of twinges in other areas that I otherwise would not have worried. Yes, I haven't seen a dentist for something like two years, but I've only had one cavity in my life (well, two, if you count the one in the baby tooth, but that fell out a long time ago), and since I brush twice and floss once a day and drink fluoridated tap water, I think it's highly unlikely I have cavities in all of those half a dozen places I've felt twinging. So I mention this to Daniel and say that it's probably my brain telling me I'm uncomfortable without having seen a dentist in so long, and probably nothing's wrong--it's all in my head. Now obviously the right thing to say in response is, "Of course it's all in your head, dear; I'm sure there's nothing wrong." But he gives me instead a perplexed look and asks, "Why would you make up an illness?" This is not reassuring.
However, I will finish on a high note, by saying that since I've learned I was accepted to Berkeley my teeth have felt fine. Therefore, it was all in my head. The end.