A Bit Hazy

Yesterday afternoon around 5 I put my head down on my keyboard and cried, because the entire essay I'd been working on all week was crap. Kind of like when you hold up the sweater you've been knitting away at for, like, ever, and you realize that you've failed to get gauge and it's way to small/big/ugly to ever wear. I texted Terry and he called right back and within a few hours he'd helped me figure out a different approach to kind of reframe what I'd been writing about. I tried it and it actually worked... so I'm 2 days past when the essay was due, but I will turn it in tonight. The prof said I could go over.

These exams are like some kind of crazy hazing ritual. Like when Anita and Phoebe had made up this game called "Bloompes," and I so wanted to be a Bloompe too, but in order to become one I had to run up and down the Banana Patch trail (between the main road and the print shop). No big deal, except that to provide traction for motorcycles during rainy season they'd spread crushed bricks all over the trail. And we went everywhere barefoot. Have you ever walked across crushed bricks barefoot? OUCH is all I have to say about that. Only rubber nut shells were sharper. It was worth it though, to subsequently be permitted to make (imaginary) stomach bag beezle nut pickle nut brew, collect golden cups (a certain kind of yellow flower), and do arm piggy-wiggy (if you have to ask you obviously were not a Bloompe).

Now I want to be a PhD candidate so I have to write these punishing essays. No big deal, except that about a month from now I'll be sitting in front of a panel of my advisor, two committee memebers, and a field representative for the oral defense. SCARY, is all I have to say about that. It will hopefully be worth it, though, to subsequently be permitted to conduct original field research, write and defend a dissertation, and earn the title of Doctor Phelps. Mmmmm... yeah, that sounds pretty cool to me.