A Leap of Faith

A dilemma: Do I quit without an acceptable alternative or stay in a work situation that is harmful to my health?  The conservatives argue "wait until you find a job." But what happens if staying there is harmful to your health...your emotional well being...and you can't find a job.  What happens if you have a child?  What do you do? I'm almost finished a masters degree that prepares me for what?  At this point McDonald's seems like a good alternative.  Will I be the first masters student working at McDonald's? Do I let a job go and trust that another pops into my path? I'm setting the quitting date because now I'd rather work a minimum wage job than live through another day of my job.  I've lived on the street; I've eaten at the food bank.  It can be done.  Why would I risk my emotional and physical health at a job that treats me poorly? Do I make a leap of faith...quit without an another job...and trust that is the right move?

A Graduate Change

What's happening? Why am I questioning...yes, gasp my esteemed professors...the same ones that I cowered in fear when they mentioned the word "paradigm?" Maybe I'm growing up.  Maybe I'm becoming (and I hate to say it) an expert in my chosen area. I'm the person who always downplays her skills, avoids competition, and thinks of failure when a new assignment is posted.  But now...things seem different.  I notice inconsistencies, incongruities, and downright silliness from my professors.  Don't get me wrong...I respect what they say most of the time...but now they seem almost human...and make mistakes like the rest of us.  This knowledge makes me smile, not in a superior way, but in the way that you know a secret...and it feels good.

My other friends...don't

It feels a little lonely without my cohort--especially the ones that mopped up my tears, pushed me forward, and never let me down when I needed help.  Out of the unlikeliest places, I found people--even though so different in temperament--who managed to squeeze into a section of my heart.  I love our online revelations, theoretical musings, frustrations, and delight over our program.  My other friends don't get excited over understanding Foucault, the correct placement of a comma, the completion of a grueling literature review, the success of a team project after spending only a few hours creating the damn thing, the beginning of a new class, a full eight hours sleep, or a killer mark in the most hair tearing out class you've ever had in your life...ever. Maybe they get excited over other things, but I don't know because I'm here in this moment...and soon I won't be...so I think I'll just savour this moment while I can.

Where Do We Go From Here?

I just finished a grueling graduate school residency and now ponder the path to work fulfillment. My brain filled with concepts looks to a place where I can use company time to wander over to twitter while earning enough money to pay off this huge school debt.  I just don't know.  How do I translate the knowledge gained into a world that pays? Have I somewhere crossed the line from under-qualified to over-qualified? Where do I begin? I'm already looking at the next masters degree since the job market looks dismal.  I imagine my life filled with degrees and the masochistic side of me smiles in appreciation and anticipation of the sleep deprivation.

Academia = Tight Pants

I'm not one to sit at a desk all day: I prefer breaks--preferably long breaks--that involve sunshine and breathing in non-recycled air.  Since starting grad school, my hours of sitting in front of the computer are increasing and the result is uncomfortably tight pants.  If I gain five more pounds, a new wardrobe will be added as an expense on my bursary application.  It's a dilemma: how to study, research, and write while still finding time to exercise.  I did discover that movement helps me figure out problems so... I still take breaks--shorter ones--which help me become more productive and spend less time on the computer.  Another tip: learning when a paper is good enough to stop and leave it for some outdoor activity.

My Love/Hate Relationship with Moodle

For those unaware, Moodle happens to be an e-learning software platform that my graduate school uses. It also happens to be a little finicky, hard to understand, confusing, annoying at times, and repeats itself....In fact, it kind of reminds me of a bad boyfriend that won't behave.  I love/hate the fact that I can receive and offer communication instantaneously to my cohort.  I can upload, download, post, and view assignments at all hours of the day... although having a few glasses of wine in the evening and then posting is generally a very bad idea.  I just miss the face-to-face for clarification...instead I'm left guessing what that post really means or not means.  I just don't know anymore.

The 10 Minute Over-Hug

Don't get me wrong--I love hugs--short sweet hugs, passionate hugs, comforting hugs--you name it. All except the 10 minute hug because...well...it's creepy and disturbing. I first encountered the ten minute hug when I moved to Nelson. I had many questions after it; Did he like like me? Did he want to ask me out on a date? Did he hug everybody like this? The answers: No, he didn't like like me, he didn't want to ask me out on a date, and yes, he hugged everybody like that. Well, being an Ontario girl, we don't hug like that unless we mean business. Now living on the Island, I found a few 10 minute huggers that seek me out at potluck parties. I know better; it doesn't mean anything--but I still avoid them because as I've mentioned, it creeps me out. Now I wonder, why do they do it? An uncontrollable urge? A need not yet satisfied by a sexual partner? Please stop...it disturbs me...and besides I barely know you.

An Entrepreneurial Spirit

It all started with an 11-year-old wanting a Wii. "Not a chance," I said. And so...it started with a desire, mixed with a passion, and then the decision to meet the challenge. Part of me wanted to give her what she wanted (something I never had) but something stopped me. I remembered that not getting everything I wanted gave me the desire to work hard.

True, she didn't go after a job; she took the opportunity that was presented. The opportunity came because of her passion for animals. It didn't hurt that her timing was impeccable. She simply stated what she wanted and something came along. Things like this give me hope: hope for new beginnings and hope that people still take a chance on others.

Lack and a Matter of Perspective

How often do I hear from those who have money and lack free time to those who enjoy lots of free time and lack money? Where do I fit in? I move and cross the lines frequently--often seeing a combination of states. The funny thing? Wherever I sit, I yearn to be on the other side. I've noticed this becoming a problem for me: the irritation, and the desperation, the longing. How do I just become content with being where I am? How do I find a balance? I've tried meditation, gurus, books, and counselling. I don't think one answer exists for all people. Maybe we aren't meant to be static; maybe moving between these different possibilities and the struggle is what matters. Perhaps, I just need to be fine on occasion wherever I am and stop trying to change everything. I think if I can do this for one hour per day, I am doing well.

I don't like Salespeople

Now, I must admit to an aversion to salespeople (SP). I don't how or why it started, but it clings with me every time I walk into a store and spot a smiley-faced figure approaching. At 12:54 p.m. today, I nervously entered into a cell phone selling store in order to inquire about a new phone and the dreaded monthly plan. The SP on duty scornfully looked at my current five-year-old cell phone and shook his head. After plainly stating what I wanted and what I was willing and able to pay, the SP cut me off, shook his head, and pointed to a plan that would cost $20 more...smoothly informing me that I would get free texting, facebook, instant messaging, and email. Do I look like a teenager or somebody under 30? I do not. Sure, email sounds great but I don't want the extras. SP looks up my account and proceeds to state that I am paying this inflated price already. What bill was SP looking at? I pay the same amount every month. SP continued the argument...clearly implying I don't know what I am doing, what I am paying, or what I really need. Do you know what I need? I need to find a better SP.

Where Art Thou O Brain of Mine?

How I wish I could wear a sleek black suit like Trinity on "The Matrix", get plugged in, and quickly download a program that allows me to fly a chopper...or in my case absorb a massive University textbook. How about Universities tweeting pertinent information in manageable chunks? I am not sure my brain is equipped to digest large amount of text in a short period of time and then spew it out in my own words in a comprehensible fashion. I think Twitter has ruined my brain; I now look for 140 characters, absorb the message, then scroll down for an entirely new tidbit of news. How can this prepare me for University?

Lovin' Twitter

After endless debate with myself, I hopped on the Twitter train. After a few crashes here and there...I'm here for good. Tips for beginners--watch what you say--everything lies within the public domain which means any person (moms, bosses) can view the post. I've asked myself, "Did I just say that?" Whoops, no correction allowed (although you can delete). Case in point: tweeting about what your boss might be doing just gets you into trouble. Like: business promotion, watching the Olympic hockey game with my University cohort strewn across the country in real time. Not like so much: Creepy followers (you can block them) and an overwhelming amount of information. To help with the information overload, a fellow Communications student offered this sage advice: "Just look at it as a stream of consciousness; some tweets will stay with you and some won't."

Why are you shortening my name?

I don't know you; you don't know me. We recently met; yet you feel the need to shorten my name. Why? I let friends call me Steph, and my family enjoy the small privilege of crazifiing my name to a semi short word that resembles a version of Steph. I attribute this strangeness to growing up as children and unable to actually verbalize my name correctly. But seriously--people I have just met? The implied intimacy is there--but it isn't--because...we just met. A friend attributes this phenomena to a control issue on their part. I think they don't know what they are doing. I also think they do it to everyone. Usually I feel shocked and confused. Next time, I will summon the courage to mumble "Stephanie" and hope they catch it. Next time.

Two names - One person?

Just wondering if Ann Coulter and the recently deceased Charlton Heston are one and the same? Yes, I know one is female, but the rhetoric sounds the same. The cry for freedom of speech masks the hatred that lies beneath. Her comment to a Muslim student to "take a camel" instead of flying is offensive. I do wonder why I am irritated when I hear her name. The lack of intelligence and knowledge of Canada alarms me. I am an advocate of free speech (up to a point) but what about the individuals who hear her racist comments? Maybe I should ignore unintelligent comments; unfortunately her creepy dead eyes get in the way of my sleep.