Friday, January 23, 2009

Round, round, get around

I've been thinking a lot lately about my car. It's a reliable vehicle thus far - it's almost over the hill (100,000 miles) and it's endured some of the roughest weather and terrain this state has to offer. Though I treat my car very well (tune-up's, obsessively-regular oil changes, transmission flushes, tire rotations, etc) I still have every reason to be thankful that the little American-made four-banger turns over in sub-zero temperatures. It never fails to get from point A to B and for that I give it a little tap on the trunk and occasionally clean all the empty water bottles and gum wrappers from its floorboards.

The problem is - I'm not sure I want to drive a car anymore. Some of you might be thinking "So don't, what's the big deal?" Unfortunately there is a big deal and it's larger than my singular progressive forward-thinking self can sometimes fathom. The issue is a social stigma that may very well be quite sweeping, but in my experience is very concentrated in the midwest - particularly Michigan and even more so, this "Motor City" I love so much.

Growing up in Southwest Detroit had very few advantages. Living blocks away from a huge steel mill in one of the most crime-infested areas in the entire nation was not an ideal situation - but it was the best that my mother and stepfather could provide. The environment always gave me one strong feeling - the need to escape, to explore, to expand - and the easiest way to achieve this was to get a license and car as quick as humanly possible.

On top of the escapism built the pressures of adolescence and being "cool." Everyone in high school wanted to have a car. Never once was there talk of walking (that's what people without CARS do, DUH) or riding a bike (That's what kids do, DUH) or taking the bus (That's what poor people and bums do, DUH!) Alternative transportation didn't exist in my world and I have a feeling my experience wasn't too far from that of many others.

This nasty stigma around pooling, biking, and mass transit is a large reason why it's so difficult to actually participate in any of those activities in the state of Michigan. 3 months of brutal cold and heavy snow make it nearly impossible to bike - but it doesn't rule out hoping on a bus. Even in the warmer months, the lack of bike lanes also makes the two-wheeled commute challenging and dangerous at times. To add insult, every time I chain my bike outside of an establishment, people stare at me with a facial expression that reads "Wow, she must have more than a couple DUIs."

I'm not sure what I'll do when my current vehicle finally kicks the proverbial bucket. Perhaps I'll be in another state by then or maybe I'll live closer to all point B's of great necessity. Either way - I'm over 4 wheels.

I need a fuckin' revolution.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Under Pressure

Tonight I was invited to sit in on an 8000 level graduate course. In order to sit, I had to agree (after a quick review of the syllabus) to commit to all of the required work.

The work includes one 8-10 page proposal, consistent participation on a class blog as well as a 20 page final paper.

I'm incredibly flattered that a former professor of mine would want me to join such a high-level course, to sit next to people who have put far more thought into their dissertations. I will be a bud amidst partially-bloomed flowers.

Thing is, all of this will be going on while a committee meets to decide whether or not I should be funded in my freshmen year of graduate school.

I'm nervous, but determined. I know I can own this. I plan on walking into that classroom Monday night and getting right down to business.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

When life lifts you up, but he lets you down

So, your dream came true. You're well on your way to becoming a college professor and an author. You're involved in projects that promote literacy, stress the benefits of integrating comics into secondary education classrooms, and advocate clean transportation around your home state.

You've come from a poor, underprivileged school district to earn a Bachelor's degree from a major research University. You've gone from being an awkward, unpopular teenager to having the confidence to stick your foot in any door - to shake any hand - to make your presence known in any way. You're not afraid to smile, even though it shows that your mother never had the money to fix a few crooked teeth. You're not afraid to work harder at staying healthy because you sacrificed insurance coverage for full-time education.

You've watched drugs ruin the lives of immediate family members, and you've endured the depression of losing a loved one. You live with two chronic illnesses and yet you rarely let it get you down - even on bad days, you never call off and never skip out. You could've settled many times, but you listen to your heart and let your passion guide you. You believe in hard work, service, education, and innovation. You've always been honest and loyal. You're determined to prove that tattoos and distended earlobes simply decorate an individual - they do not define them.

You've done a lot - but you're going to do so much more. Very little gets you down, because you were raised to hold your head high no matter the task, no matter the challenge. You were raised to understand that you are nothing if not part of something greater. You tell yourself that if it hurts, think of how it could be worse - slam your fingers in the door when someone steps on your toes.

And here you are almost every evening thinking about how it could be worse. Amidst all of your accomplishments, you can only focus on one failure. And yet, you remain selfless through it all - concerned more about his feelings than yours. Letting your unanswered questions fester for the sake of respecting a complexity that you don't quite understand. You've been swept into an undertow but you'd rather drown than ask for help.

What's wrong with you? That's the question, indeed. The question you ask yourself when you look in the mirror. The question they ask when you keep giving excuses for sticking around - for enduring the embarrassment and pain in hopes that some day it'll fade. But it won't dissipate. Every single time he gives you that sympathetic smile, you only feel the suffix. If everyone knew, you'd be a joke. It's a good thing for the most part, this is buried in your own ribcage.

Just shy of good enough - the ultimate insult.

Sunday, January 11, 2009

The long and the short of it

I've never really been big on "resolutions," but I do love making lists. My desk at home is littered with post-it notes (a mini-obsession of mine.) Most of them have my monthly bill payments and writing ideas scribbled down - but a lot of them have lists of short-term and long-term goals. I create lists mostly because I seem to have inherited a shitty memory. I haven't done a drug in my life and yet I have to work extra hard to memorize things. It's wild - but, the harder the work the more rewarding the payoff, right? Right.

I have a couple lists that are important to me. I want to post them partly because I enjoy sharing several aspects of my life and also because this list is less likely to be lost in the chaotic battleground that is my desk.

To achieve by June 2009:

- Lose another 15 lbs (Which will take me to 150 lbs - a total of 55 lbs lost in 15 months)
- Eliminate three of the six credit card debts I currently pay down each month.
- Keep my savings account above $2,000
- Completely wean myself off of weekly comics. Limit myself to one new graphic novel a month
- Get the last two sessions in on my left and right sleeves.
- Become accustomed to drinking green tea
- Achieve the minimalism I'm content with. It's alright to wear the same two pairs of jeans, the same old hoodie and the same three lame tank tops all the time - having a ton of clothes is overrated.
- Never buy another t-shirt - I never wear them.


A more short-term list:

- Start strength training with my cardio, again.
- Buy a rice cooker
- Early to bed, early to rise. No more mid-morning naps
- Now that the PhD application strain is over - start reading nightly again
- Finish two chapters of my book before the end of February
- Get the Mac repaired. I miss it.
- Take advantage of the free cookbooks Rodale sent and start making dinner for Grandma for a change
- Get a hair trim

Friday, January 9, 2009

Real-life Revolutionaries

As it turns out, becoming a graduate student is a business that requires a lot of footwork. Call this office, pick this up, drop it off here - send this in, pay this fee, sign this, email that - so on, and so forth. All of the while your goals, dreams, and the next five or so years of your life hang in the balance.

Not too stressful, right? Hah.

Today I had the task of getting my undergraduate records transferred to the director of Graduate studies in the English department. Sounds simple enough - call Graduate Admissions, tell them what you want - done.

Wrong.

Approx 1:30 PM - Call Graduate admissions and get placed on hold
1:36 PM - After 5 minutes of dead air, hang up and call again
1:37 PM - Get a different person at Graduate admissions who completely misunderstands my request and transfers me to the English department
1:39 PM - After explaining to the receptionist in the English department that she's talking to me due to the folly of the Grad admissions office, she transfers me to the records office
1:40 PM - Records office requires three different explanations of my very simple transcript request
1:43 PM - Records office informs me that there is ONE individual employed by the ENTIRE university who handles transcript requests - she rattles off his number, tells me to call him.
1:44 PM - Me: "Couldn't you just transfer the call?"
1:45 PM - Call transferred to "Mark" at Records
1:45 PM - Mark at Records answers the phone and immediately takes acception to my qualms with the Records office and the University's phone etiquette as a whole. He and I exchange laughs about how much we hate ignorant people.
1:48 PM - Mark informs me that instead of having me jump through flaming hoops, he would like to personally deliver my transcript to the English department. "Mark, you are a true revolutionary sir!" "Thank you so much! I haven't been called that in years!"

When I arrived on the 4th floor, I called Mark and moments later he walked through the door carrying my transcripts. The moment he stepped into the hallway, I thought "Yeah, this dude was definitely an activist early in his life." He looked like a 5'4 version of Icabod Crane! Short, hyper but pointed with his energy - his long white hair sloppily wrangled into a pony tail. We eagerly shook hands, grinning like kindred spirits.

Mark and I flamboyantly delivered my transcripts to the department's main office. A professor standing nearby watched the entire display, simply uttering "Impressive." I wanted to turn around and say "That's exactly who I am, and that's exactly what I do!"

It's remarkable to me sometimes - that we can go our whole lives never reading every book, never seeing every thing of beauty, and never meeting every person who could brighten even a portion of our day - but we can still be happy with what we have. Today, one person made me happy with my ability to connect and let my personality be my guide through tough situations.

Thank you, Mark from Records. One day, you'll have a pack of Marlboros in your mailbox courtesy of yours truly.

For now, I'm reading comics, working out, and hitting the hay. Hopefully tonight I'll actually get some sleep.

Oh, but here's some photos:
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Twitter<3

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Finally able to grab a pull for the first time in a few weeks

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Now that it's all over - I think I'm going to treat myself to an eyebrow wax and a hair trim. I deserve it.