Update

If you're wondering where I've gone, worried that's I've disappeared off the face of the planet, take heart! I've simply moved blogs. Please make sure to check out my new one, titled Somewhere Before Mars, to get the latest awesomeness from me:

http://redplasticdinosaur.wordpress.com/

Success!

It's been a while since I've felt like I've succeeded in accomplishing something important. Finally a blog that won't be about treading water or gray skies or sleeping. A blog about moving forward. A blog about taking the on the GRE and coming out with a slightly above average score.

My history with standardized testing is one of anger and misfortune. From the moment I first picked up a number two pencil and stared at the bubble pocked answer sheet I knew this relationship would be one filled with mediocrity. Lucky for me, I wanted to go to a state university so a middling score on the SAT was fine.

But then I decided I wanted to go to grad school. The first time I took the GRE, this past October, my score was sub par, even for me. Verbal was okay, but quantitative, woof. So there was much heartbreak, much moaning about my dismal future, and much punching of pillows. At last there was a steeling of resolve as I realized, wait, I didn't really study.

So I studied. And I got my sliver above mediocrity. And I'm tickled pink.

Please don't mistake my joy at an average score as a red flag for laziness and an absence of care when it comes to topics of scholarship. I am every bit the opposite when it comes to actual school work. You need only glance at my undergrad GPA to see that. Standardized testing though is an evil meant to give good test takers the upper hand when applying to school. Maybe it's a necessary evil.

All I know or care is that I have a score that gives me a chance at getting into gradschool. One day I might have a Master's degree and then maybe even a Doctorate! One of my steps to a happier and better me has been taken successfully.

Hibernation

I'm not going to lie. I haven't been up to a whole hell of a lot. Since Sergio left for Virginia I've sort of been coasting through the week with very little motivation. Usually he's the one that pushes me to do something. Now I just go home and sleep.

My free time is relegated to two days a week. I still love my job but I'm quickly realizing the regular work week is not conducive to my mental health. I need a bit of spontaneity in my schedule. School gave that to me. Boy do I miss school. Reading and writing and discussing in class. Those were the days my friends.

Even now I'm finding it hard to write. I'm scared to harp on the same subjects over and over. But little has changed in the past two years. I'm still confused. I still want to go to grad school.

But at least it's warm now.

Recharged

It's amazing what good a little sunlight, heat, and music can do for the soul. Bitter and grey I left Chicago and arrived in New Orleans to feel the tendrils of heart crushing winter fly from my shoulders. The sun reached into my very innards and coaxed to life that nut of happiness and hope that had hibernated through the rain, sleet, and snow that comprises a winter in Chicago.

While having my nose and shoulders softly kissed red by the heavens would have been enough to set any soul blooming like so many tulips, the people truly set the smile on my face. My friend Kristi picked me up from the airport and whisked me to Baton Rouge for the evening, introducing me to potential grad school professors, and then drove me tirelessly back to New Orleans. Getting to spend time with my parents in a way reminiscent of the family vacations we took not so long ago was priceless. I miss them and it was wonderful.

And then the music! The music and the art and the people! And the food! Oh, the culture! That beautiful, slow, rich Southern culture that is so often dismissed as poor and ignorant, not worth preservation. Being in the North, where I'm considered a slow walker, I've forgotten how quick I am below the Mason Dixon Line.

Maybe it's only a mirage to be admired while on vacation. I feel like a part of me is tied to New Orleans. It's had its hooks in me from a young age. I feel myself pulled to her. But am I just nostalgic for the nostalgia that isn't mine? Am I infatuated with city that's an empty shell of its former glory? No. No! Because we need a New Orleans. We need that other worldly place to escape and revel, and even sin.

I don't know what I want. I know I don't want this cold angry city the rest of my life. I don't want this loss of purpose that accompanies my vitamin D deficiency. I know I want love and intelligence and to somehow improve this world, this country. But that's so general! I'll simply plow forward and see what comes. What can any of us do besides that?

Rainy Monday

It's grey but not freezing so I can't complain. This weekend I'll be gone to the warm Southern comfort of Louisiana. I can already feel those short skirts brushing the back of my legs and the slim soled sandles beneath my feet. The food will be heavy and the music loud and I'll finally be in my sunny element once again.

I need to forget about things that are pressing firmly on my mind. I need to unknit my brow, settle my stomach, and accept the moment for what it is. There will be plenty of time to be worried and stressed when I return. But this weekend is an escape from all that for a few precious days.

When I get back, then I'll set to figuring things out. Then I'll wonder where I'll go, what to do, what's most important. My batteries will be recharged. My mind will be less fried. I'll come back to a warmer and better Chicago. Hopefully I can have a positive and productive outlook for a while insteady of this foggy quagmire of uncertainty and aggrivation I've been sunk in.

It will be kittens and rainbows from now on.

Adventures in Writing

I'm getting geared up for a few writing projects I have in mind. It looks like Sergio will be going to Virginia to do the Endstation Theatre Festival again May through July so I figure I'll have pleanty of time to knock out a few pages of my latest attempt at a novel. The project I'm most excited about is one that will involve a month long roadtrip up the Eastern Seaboard. Needless to say, that one won't be happening for a while.

This will be the summer of writing. Well, writing and applying to grad school! And eating well! How about the summer of getting my life in order? The summer of doing those things which will make me a more successful and proactive person! All of the above!

Perhaps it's the sunshine outside or the gift of warm weather dangling just out of reach, but I'm feeling pretty gung-ho about things. In a month I'll look back and rejoice at the fact that I'm done moving. In a week I'll be an hours flight outside of New Orleans. Everything will work out because it always works out. I'm always alive at the end of the day and if I'm not, well, I guess I won't care at that point.

I've made the decision that while I'll be lonely without Sergio, I'm going to have a positive summer. It'll only be a tiny two and a half months. Plus I have Fay. It'll be fine.

Moving

In theory, moving a 300 square foot apartment into a much larger house is a thing of simplicity. Through a few dishes and books in a box, tuck your cat under your arm, and boom. Done. After almost two years of feeling settled, I've forgotten this back breaking, mind numbing, nerve bending task and have formed an even greater collection of stuff. From my easel and painting supplies, to my small record collection. From my desk to my bed, this won't be fun. I can rejoice in the fact that I have a few weeks to move out. I dread the day I have to do it all at once. Most of my books are already at home in their new bookshelf and the majority of my kitchen supplies are getting cozy in new cabinets. But there are pots and pans, DVDs, an entire walk-in closet, my bathroom, and all of my furniture left. I need to set goals. This weekend, the rest of my kitchen, the rest of my books, all of my DVDs, video games, records and CD's will be moved. That's the minimum. The following weekend I'll be out of town and then I have one more weekend to get all my small stuff out before I call in the movers to take the big stuff and then clean. It's all very daunting. I need to focus on the future right now. I need to see myself with my little attic painting/writing studio and doing laundry on a weekly basis, and having barbeque's in the backyard, and drinking brandy out of my new little snifters I bought online. Forward, that's where I'm going. Forward, forward, forward. To here, to grad school, to a place I can put down my bags and not move for at least five years. To warmth and happiness, and a tiny slice of contentment (but not enough to stagnate of course). One day soon this move will be complete and I'll bask in the sun of my low rent and ample room.