It’s weird. This is my first blog since the beginning of March. So much has happened since then; every time I attempt to write an entry I think, there’s too much to say and/or no one reads this anyone. These facts may very well still be true, but I’ve been catching up on other people’s blogs (okay, like one blog), so I feel it’s fair to update everyone on my life also.
So, it’s June. I graduated on May 14th, 2010. I declined walking down the hill, even though it could have been fun. I was at a point in my life where I felt as though I was walking through the actions of being a student, even though I already had a full-time job, and didn’t have anything really school-related to accomplish. I’ve been so frustrated with this last year of schooling that I don’t even want to think about it again. But, it’s over. It was anti-climactic to say in the least. There were no major parties; I wasn’t celebrating the end of an era. I had to work the day afterwards, and I felt like somewhere in the last couple of months this “era” was lost, and I maybe I never really gave a shit.
I’ve been working full-time since the middle of May at MOCSA. I’ve been really enjoying it, but it’s calmed down a bit. I was on high-stress level with school presentations, but now that most schools have come to summer break, I’ve been having a lot of office time, which is productive in its own merit, but it’s strange to go from out-in-the-community-all-the-time to in-the-office-all-the-time mode. But it’s been nice to spend so much time learning. And let’s mention how much free time I have not being in school! Yesterday, after work, I spent the late-afternoon/early-evening in the pool, enjoying the sun, and then ate dinner, watched Mad Men, and went to bed. I plan on joining a gym this week. And reading for fun? What a novel thought! I finished the new set of Jhumpa Lahiri’s short stories called “Unaccustomed Earth,” the author of “The Namesake.” It was delightful. I’m re-reading Nine Stories by J.D. Salinger, and then will move on to either “The Clown” by Heinrich Boll or “Les Misérables” by Victor Hugo. Or re-read “East of Eden” by John Steinbeck. The fact that I have choices in what I read, and that I’ll have the free time to do so for, pretty much, several years.
Speaking of life plans, I’ve been thinking about what I’ll do in the next 10 or so years. I’m thinking I’d like to get a good 5 or so years of work experience under my belt. Then, at that point, I’ll either get my dual degree in MSW/MPH (Masters in Social Work/Public Health) or my MPH/JD (Masters in Public Health/Law Degree). I’m looking at Johns Hopkins, but I’m not sure what it will take to get there. Luckily I have 5ish years to save up/figure it out. I’m really interested in the Masters in Public health degree. It’s like specialized social work in the health care field. You can go here and look at the course requirements for an MPH at Johns Hopkins’ Bloomberg School of Public Health: http://www.jhsph.edu/academics/degreeprograms/mph/curriculum/E_Core.Courses.html.
I’ve been reminiscing a lot lately and realizing that I hate reminiscing. I’ve changed so much in the last five years that I find it almost laughable to look back at who I was. I think I often feel this way about high school. It’s weird, because I spent so much of my life remembering being 15 that I couldn’t enjoy where I was. And I dislike where I am now so much, I can’t help but look towards the future. I know that’s a major component of leading a safe/balanced life: living in the present. But the structure of my life just doesn’t allow for it. I’m not sure I can be who anyone else wants me to be, and I’m not sure I know who I want myself to be. This is a complicating paragraph, but I don’t mean for it to be. I’ve been spending my time missing people I should have missed in the first place, and definitely not missing people I thought I would. It’s weird how important you find people to be when they’re gone. I feel like I’m witnessing little glimpses of everyone–but I’m never really part of anything. Ugh, how whiny is this?
I hate living in Johnson County. More than anything. I did not spend my life hating Manhattan, KS so I could end up in Johnson County–fucking Olathe, for christ’s sake. It’s weird–I hate Manhattan, I fit into Lawrence (my god did I fit, and did I love it, and do I love it!), and now Olathe? How awful.
I don’t want to end this entry on that note, especially not knowing when I’ll write again, but there it is.
Do you still read this?