Bless It and Let It Go

I’ve been in a de-cluttering frenzy the last few weeks. I’ve gone through my kitchen and have loaded the back of my car with things to donate. I’m about to go through the pantry and do the same.

I’m sick of having so much stuff to deal with. As I was cleaning yesterday, and contemplating finances, and the future, I began calculating what I could get by selling some of this stuff, the big stuff like the piano, and even though I DO love it, the treadmill, some of the extra furniture at some point. Enough to erase a good portion of credit card debt, thats for sure. Compared to some, I don’t have a lot of credit card debt. But being late on some payments these last few years while working and in school, money being tight, not working as much, being so bogged down that I forgot to pay them…that’s taken a toll on my credit score.

Five years ago, when I bought this house, I’d done a great job with my credit.

It seems that since then, everything has just been expensive, and broken, and draining.

And of course, I’ll just add, that the way I learned how to manage money was to hide the bills from my Dad. That was the total education. So I’ve done my own thing, and some days I do better than other days. The thing is, on all of those days, I’m figuring it out.

There is always the possibility of renting out the guest room again, if needed.

Anyways, I’m cleaning. I’m getting rid of the excess. The weather is changing, the days are longer, all of this is the perfect storm for me to spring clean EVERY aspect of life. Get rid of the cobwebs, get rid of the funk!

What are you doing to prepare for the coming season change? Does it get you fired up to make any changes?

L.

Ya know when you just have a ton of things to do, chores, cleaning, homework, errands…and the bigger things to think about on top of that…

sometimes the only thing to do about it is hide under a gypsy blanket and watch episodes of Friday Night Lights.

*this message brought to you by the letter L. For Lazy.

What IS A Weekend?

And then it was Monday…

More and more I’m of the same mindset of the Dowager Dutchess:

Because I work Saturday, Friday nights aren’t really “Friday nights”, and Mark is busy with the PAS and the Depot shows, most every Sunday. In a few weeks, the Summer Breeze series will begin. Then it’s Monday and he’s off to the salt mines and I’m (for a few more weeks at least) doing homework, laundry, cleaning, chores, banking, grocery shopping, and all other duties as assigned before the week begins again.

Whirlwind.

This “weekend” was a packed one.

Friday night we saw Kelly McRae in a house concert. Do you know this amazing singer/songwriter? She and her husband threw everything into their VW van about two years ago and started traveling the country with their music. This is the second house concert I’ve seen of hers and was just as floored by the sheer talent the second time as I was the first. Put her on your radar. She’s worth the effort to go see live.

Saturday was spent watching some of my friends in a play. This is a new theatre company that is producing/workshopping/supporting original works. I’m so proud of them and their commitment to bringing new work to our theatre scene. I’m also really thankful to be able to get out, support their art and not be mired down by school. This show was pretty damned funny. I think you’ll see it published at some point.

I have to say, though, it was todays agenda that rounded out the weekend.

Heather, Julie and I met and made our first round selections for our Listen To Your Mother Show. We did a walk through of the venue, and talked a bit to our tech guy (who wasn’t supposed to be there per the event coordinator. ugh.) and I really feel good about it all. We’ve got to get a punch list set for tech, get our videographer on the same page as us, and then really…we’re set. The space is awesome. I think it’s going to work really well for us.

We moved to a restaurant and started delving into details on sponsorship, details on PR, checking thinks, listing more things…and then we got to the good stuff.

I have to say, in the beginning I was really wary of the quality of submissions we would get. I was afraid we wouldn’t get any. Then I was afraid we wouldn’t get any *good ones. Then I was afraid we would only get the *sad ones.

I am pleased to say, my fears were for naught.

There is a beautiful variety of stories in our pile. Those that we couldn’t use, weren’t because they were *bad…they just didn’t fit the trajectory of our show.

In two weeks we’ll have live auditions and I know that really, honestly, we have material enough for two shows. So…woof.

I’m excited.

Polishing off the night with dinner and drinks and lots of girl talk with Yaya and Mandrea…I’m sitting here full.

Tomorrow is a deep deep cleaning of this house. Kikimama is peeing everywhere. I can’t even talk about her situation right now. Also, Mandrea and I have some facetime scheduled, and I’ve got some homework/work to do on my class.

What is a weekend?

Someone do tell me if you figure it out.

This. Today. Everyday.

It's not the critic that counts — It’s not the critic that counts

Air Bubbles

My new committee has all agreed and been formed for my Fall comps exam. This is a great source of relief and all due to the work of my advisor who is leading the charge and the committee.

I should note, *this advisor, only came on board in that capacity for my program in January . Previously, in all of the semesters previous, I had the same woman. She is notorious for not communicating, for not answering or even acknowledging emails. Do you remember the trouble I had first enrolling, right? Remember how she was impossible to get through to, to get a response from or ANY kind of enrolling advise for that matter. The tiny bit she DID give me? Completely wrong, in hindsight. The moment’s we did have scheduled for face to face visits were spent talking about what did I think about her hair. SO. This guy? This new advisor? Rest assured he is just as frustrated about how all of this went down as I am. And he is working his arse off, with emails way past office hours, to help me through this.

I still have a list of things to do to clean up this mess. But the mess in my head is so much better. Thanks to all of you and your support and comments and commiseration. There is also another idea that is forming from all the muck and mire. . . I’ll tell you about it soon.

In the meantime, New Thoughts.

Thoughts become Things.

I must remember that.

Change the language, quit talking to myself in such a way that…if I saw someone talking to YOU like that? I’d karate chop their windpipe.

Be nicer to myself.

Understand that love is not contingent on a master’s degree, or any inanimate thing in this world.

Tell those voices, They Were Wrong. (thanks for that, Spence. You always know what to say)

Thank you.

Words are powerful. Believe you me. Each one was an airbubble, that you so delicately shoved down my throat and allowed me one more breath. One more breath to get to today. One more breath.

I’m working on tomorrows Shakespeare readings this morning. Then I’m going into the salon for some good hair banging and business strategery with a little LTYM business sponsorship work thrown in between.

This is perhaps the first day that I don’t feel like Pigpen with the cloud of funk swirling about.

Chin up, boobs out.

Let’s dance!

Spectacular Fail.

So. Here’s the gist of it.

I failed my comps.

I won’t graduate in the Spring.

*They don’t give the exams in the Summer like previously advised.

It will have to be the Fall.

I found all of this out Friday afternoon. That morning I received my official rejection letter from OU. I knew that was happening, and really after hearing what I’d already heard about that department, and visiting the building that stank of armpit hair, I was okay with it.

Then I got the email saying I’d failed my comps.

My advisor was and has been really supportive. He sees that while it was MY lack of thesis writing that caused all of this to happen, the really awesome lack of advisement on any of it, writing a thesis, guideline/timelines, the comprehensive exams as another option, criteria for those, the building of a committee all played a major role. My advisement to take the comps this semester, when they were 9 days away and knowing I was at a conference presenting a paper was also poor advise. My third committee member, whom I’ve had for a class before and made an A, is known for failing students on their comps and for some reason refuses to answer/acknowledge any of my emails this semester.

I was never going to pass this. Ever. This was a perfect storm for guaranteed failure.

I had a tiny bit of hope, though.

The buck still lands with me. My thesis wasn’t happening. I wasn’t happy with my topic, not finding much in terms of research and certainly not writing. I should have done something different.

I’m going to always maintain that I’VE NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE so completely and utterly trust those with the letters by their name and take their advise anytime it’s given. But that is neither here nor there.

The bottom line is this: no graduation for at least another nine months. Student loans and financial aid are factors that are becoming dire. I meditated on that all weekend, and then yesterday I got the email saying this:

WELCOME TO OSU! WE ARE ADMITTING YOU TO THE PROGRAM AND HERE’S YOUR T.A. OFFER!

It’s like the bleach in the paper cut.

So now I have a list of things to do:

un-apply for graduation.

drop the one hour of comp exam that I enrolled in at last minute.

talk to financial aid and see where I stand with repayment.

build a new committee.

call OSU and regretfully decline their offer of the assistantship and ask about possible deferment of admission and really decide if that is what I want at all.

write an official petition to the department asking to re-take the comps in the Fall.

In juggling all of this, I’ve let my Shakespeare class slide. I got re-focused and caught up this weekend but not before two really spectacular failures in that class as well. I sent an email to my professor owning that and promising better.

This has just been a really awful rollar coaster of a thing. I’m angry, and embarrassed, and exhausted and defeated and angry again. But the extra time is what I know I needed. . . I just didn’t know I needed that much. I understand that there is a lesson here. Several in fact. But really…I just want it to be over. I just want it all to be over.

I don’t know when I’ll be solid with this turn of events. Right now I’m very mercurial. I’m stuck somewhere between “this is what I needed and I’m good enough to figure it all out” and swimming in a pool of self doubt that is reinforced by every single detail of this debacle.

It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok. It’ll be ok.

***some of you have text/emailed regarding yesterdays post. no. no one is talking about marriage. everybody calm down. that is not this…and really, after all of this word vomit today who’d want to. 😉 it’s not a prophetic dream. just a dream where solace was found at a train depot.

Dream a Little Dream

I had the craziest dreams last night.

I dreamed we (several people from my life, from Mark’s life, and from Downton Abbey) were on a bus and we were traveling way way far and up some really steep hills/mountains.

I often have the driving steeply then falling to the point of danger on both sides of the hill-dream. This one was different because there were more people with me other than me, and I wasn’t driving a two seater car. Waaaaaay up steeply, then waaaaay down so steeply. So scary.

When we finally get to our destination, I know that it’s some Latino culture because we’re all eating cilantro and black beans. Or maybe we’re at Machu Picchu. Because that place was far.

Suddenly there were ladies around me. I knew some of them. Sharon Ely was one. And they were unpacking my luggage and asking me where everything was? What everything?

Your wedding dress.

Your shoes.

Your hair and makeup supplies.

I found a dress that I’m thinking about wearing to Lindsay’s wedding in a few weeks, but no shoes. Wrong color bra. My hair was wet. Everyone was trying to twist it and scrunch it into curls or some form of something resembling the hair of someone who was about to get married.

I have no idea really how it worked out. I remember just as I was about to walk into the depot (we were back in Norman) and down an aisle made by all of these friends just separating, I saw Mark.

And there was this feeling in my stomach about how it was all going to be ok. Everything. All of it. And if it wasn’t then we’d figure it out. It would be ok.

And I started crying.

And I woke up.

Most of the details came back to me on my drive home this morning as I thought what a wet blanket I was this weekend, and how today was a brand new day and it was going to be ok. The song that he put on my “woo-ing cd” was playing.

This is one of those dreams that sticks with you in the pit of your everything all day long.

I’m so grateful for that.

Happy Monday, ya’ll.

http://mediaservices.myspace.com/services/media/embed.aspx/m=26684165,t=1,mt=video

Ten Minute Superstar

The first day of March was a horrible one. I’ll fill you in on the details later, but just trust me when I say I almost quit.

Everything.

With a little time between me and the day from hell, I’m feeling still pretty much defeated and disgusted, but there is a little glimmer of hope. I keep reminding myself that we can’t see around the corner, there is something coming that I don’t know about and it’s all going to be okay.

I spent the morning reading our submissions for Listen To Your Mother. We got some really great stories. I’m excited to meet with Heather and Julie next week, excited to talk about the entries, excited about seeing the live auditions.

It feels good to know I’m succeeding at least with this.

This day is going to be beautiful outside. I’ve got some serious catching up to do with my Shakespeare class, and an upcoming notoriously fierce test on Tuesday. Last Thursday’s test was a disaster, setting the stage for the next 24 hours worth of disaster. I’m determined not to let Tuesday turn out the same way.

Determined.

Well…about ten minutes out of each hour I’m determined. Then it gets gross in my head. But for those ten minutes?

I’m kicking some ass.

Girlchat Over A Bonfire

So that test was a fabulous disaster.

But my thesis/paper topic was a Good! and my projected research is a Good! so that was a win. And the test only counts 10% of my grade, and let’s be honest. I didn’t deserve a good grade. It did show me where I need to refocus my efforts for Tuesday’s essay exam and that’s also a win in my book.

I went to work, and turns out that was EXACTLY what I needed. My first (and only) client is also a friend. She listened to me word vomit about nixing my thesis, adding the comprehensive exam, doing that with less than a week’s notice, the conference, how I despise the English Academics, my fears of spending the next five years in a program where I’ll have to do nothing but that stuff, associate with no one but those people. How I was ready to throw it all in and be the worlds most fully educated hair stylist and just say F-it all straight to hell.

I felt so much better after talking to her.

Then, I sat around the salon for another hour and a half talking to my girlfriends/co-workers.

It seems we could all of us set some shit on fire this week.

On. Fire.

I said I could dropkick a cat. Or a baby. Right over the rainbow.

And it would feel good.

Stupid hormones.

I mean STUPID hormones.

And just like that, comparing stories, laughing at how hateful awful we all are, just like that…

I felt relief.

It’s all about community, isn’t it? Sharing your stories? Finding power in our voice, whether we trust it or not?

It’s the same underlying theme of Listen To Your Mother.

It’s about community.

and not feeling alone in your experience.

Today was our final day to accept submissions***

I’ve read a few of them.

There is power in the word.

Be it spoken around the reception area at work, or written on paper.

I cannot WAIT to share this with you.

Until then, I’ma pour myself another jelly jar of wine, and go watch some more Shakespeare movies on the Youtubes. That Tom Hiddleston is delish.

***I’ve been known to give an extension or two on the deadline. In case you were thinking of submitting.

Waiting.

Got an email from my advisor today.

He’s still waiting to hear from my other two committee members…should know something “soon.”

Soon.

I got a big fat envelope in the mail yesterday about paying back student loans. Since I switched from thesis hours to one hour of comprehensive exam, I fell below the full time status and must begin paying them back. I hope with some investigation that I can at least wait until I graduate.

Whenever that happens.

I’m off to take a test in a class I haven’t paid a bit of attention to these past two months. And then to work.

This is me today. I’m blaming it on…

everything.