![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivx1uYwbONoI3hJTdGzBlLPBGoaZiqNuOmfQfGtOcO6Nl7dI5y0hWeaGGoSDm5Qns0PBT04xTgHKpgNL6PEi2L1uCDbx6x-0xGfBgO70FWjvfE5gLrLrrYBQyxugEulcBmPDsf/s320/bird.bmp)
I agree. There is a lot of explaining. Where the hell have I been for the last month? I have simply one answer. School. Yes, It is kicking my ass. This time around the experience is kicking my ass in numerous ways. I have some mornings where I wake up and think I could possibly skip town with my loan money, but then I question if the department would still pay me? Some mornings I'm ready to conquer the world and revolutionize the world of sociology (Is it possible, Colin?)Most mornings, I'm just tired, exhausted, running on about 6 hours of sleep, while still trying to read one last article, write one last word, conquer one last statistics problem.
I'm learning many valuable things. Most of these have to do with just learning essential ways to navigate the world. I'm learning about friendships. There is nothing like 20-odd new acquaintances and friends to teach on a mass level what it is like to have friends, keep friends, and maintain friends. I'm learning to prioritize. I've already had to give up my drunken life that I so dearly loved before. I've actually had to decide to skip the Ezra Furman show (last week) and the Conor Oberst/Jenny Lewis show (this weekend)- not to mention numerous parties. I find myself saying things like, "I'd rather clean my house and run problem set 3 instead of get rip roaring drunk and feel bad the next day." If that isn't maturity and responsibility, then I'm out. I have no idea.
This is drastically different from my last program. In that, I think there was maybe one or two weeks that I wasn't drunk, hungover, thinking about drinking, or out drinking. I'm over exaggerating the past for effect (I've also learned how to bullshit more too), but I'm having a very different experience from last time.
All of that being said, I'm having a great time. I feel a tiny bit like a lab rat, but I'm getting use to it. I spend at least 97% (approximately 2 standard deviations) of my time in either the sociology department or sitting at my work table...all the while reading or making stupid jokes about school (see above).
Beyond that...the obvious. I'm dealing with other experiences that I wasn't quite prepared for. I wasn't quite prepared for the identity ambivalence that I feel. Yes, I have a word now to discuss the distinct feeling of transition and confusion that I'm going through. Also, I know...what a whiner, right? I'm going to a top 20 school and I'm totally funded..and I'm bitching. I just can't help myself though. Besides, what good is a blog if I can't bitch from time to time.
So, yes, me...I'm at an elite institution. There are norms, rules, regulations, bureaucracies. There are things like networking and appearances. There are times I have to feign interest when really I'm planning my grocery list for the week. And a majority of the time, I spend walking around on the campus or sitting through class feeling like a total fraud. I'm nervous that one day next week or perhaps later in the semester that there will be some huge discovery that I don't belong here. I'm from the trailer park. I'm from the country. How dare I think I would belong? Right?
Now, I know....and please spare me any of the compassion (if that really exists) and the psychological analysis...but I think I've carried that feeling with me around for years. I've always felt slightly outside of the norm, just by a small amount. Not enough for others to notice, but just enough for me to notice.
And I know it probably isn't quite "disaster plus time" yet, but I mentioned this the other night to Tim and he immediately found a passage in David Foster Wallace's book of stories
oblivion...and he read it to me. It resonated. It is from the story "Good Old Neon."
"My whole life I've been a fraud. I'm not exaggerating. Pretty much all I've ever done all the time is try to create a certain impression of me in other people. Mostly to be liked or admired. It's a little more complicated than that, maybe. But when you come right down to it it's to be liked, loved. Admired, approved of, applauded, whatever. You get the idea. I did well in school, but deep down the whole thing's motive wasn't to learn or improve myself but just to do well, to get good grades and make sports teams and perform well. To have a good transcript or varsity letters to show people. I didn't enjoy it much because I was always scared I wouldn't do well enough. The fear made me work really hard, so I'd always do well and end up getting what I wanted. But then, once I got the best grade or made All City or got Angela Mead to let me put my hand on her breast, I wouldn't feel much of anything except maybe fear that I wouldn't be able to get it again. The next time or next thing I wanted..."
There is more, but like he wrote, you get the idea. I'm not saying this is exactly what I feel, but given the circumstances, it seemed like a good idea to quote it.
Now onwards...
I came home from an all day required grant writing workshop today (yes, on Saturday) and I had a reading to complete for a class. The chapter is from John Dewey and I realized this is what I'm suppose to be thinking...and it felt good. It felt right.
"Life itself consists of phases in which the organism falls out of step with the march of surrounding things and then recovers unison with it- either through effort or by some happy chance. And, in a growing life, the recovery is never mere return to a prior state, for it is enriched by the state of disparity and resistance through which it has successfully passed. If the gap between organism and environment is too wide, the creature dies. If its activity is not enhanced by the temporary alienation, it merely subsists. Life grows when a temporary falling out is a transition to a more extensive balance of the energies of the organism with those of the condition under which it lives."
There is more -again. Though I think for one blog, this is plenty. I'm learning to navigate and negotiate. I'm trying to figure out who I'm going to be when this all seeps in and I start to change into something else. I'm scared. Who wouldn't be, right? And it is isolating.
I mean who really wants to hear me talk about regression lines.
So, why the bird picture? Last night I had a dream that feels completely indicative of the experience I'm having. I dreamt there was a butterfly in my house...that turned into a bird. It was flying all around trying to find the outside. It seems obvious. Metamorphosis and trying to make it to the outside.