Bruised

I bruise easily, physically and metaphorically.  This week I have managed to survive without physically causing injury to myself, though I will note that my injury from falling in to and then out my suitcase while packing for Portland is still very bumpy and ugly... Anyways not the point.

I think I have mentioned that I offered my proposal to Dr. G this week to be critiqued.  I will note that this is the second time in my educational history that I have done such an act, though I have visited at office hours on three other occasions, one of which was in the Chemistry department so I am going to negate that one.  So let's just say I don't like asking for help, and I really don't like feeling dumb.  I know that being criticized does not mean or make me dumb.  However, that is how I feel, so I have spent many many years happy with B/B+/A-'s because that means I didn't have to deal with the uncomfortable nature of my dis-comfortableness with critique.  So in the end I got critiqued, actually I was more than that, I was left with basically one sentence from which Dr. G proclaimed go forth and make a 14 page essay.  That sentence folks:

"While it is simple to specifically look at the women, for there to be a discussion on their judgment we also need to address the men who lay blame."

Note there was a page written before that sentence.

That is not the worst of the meeting.  The worst part, was his response when he found out that I wanted to apply for Graduate school in the field of English.  Oooooh... long slow with that pregnant pause on the end, followed by a well you're ahead of the class in preparing, but get on fixing that proposal.  Um first what's with the Ooooh, I know that Ooooh, that's the parent Ooooh to the child who suggested seriously that they're going to say go to university when they haven't considered that their regular routine of sleeping in, skipping class and failing to complete assignments excludes them from that option... or some other comparison.  $%#)%# x 4 and maybe a little more.  This man has never seen my GPA (which is probably a good thing) and here I am being given the Ooooh.

And then I realized something - one there are a bazillion schools in the world.  Well maybe not a bazillion, my math isn't fabulous, I blame the sessional I had in Linear Algebra for that, but regardless, if it's meant to be it will happen.  And two I have to finish this bloody degree so why the hell not fight it out right? RIGHT? Damn straight!

So now that the vent and the pep talk are over, the song that inspired me to chill out as much as my caffeine influenced body/mind can:



PS Ms J only watch with Kleenex on hand



Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/moresque/3969882328/