Ten Years Later

Ten years ago, I was standing before a crowd of 17 and 18 year olds, giving a painfully brief valedictorian address.  Because I was so shy, I had a hard time coming up with something interesting to say and I probably just read it hurriedly, saying nothing of note or interest.  I barely remember what I said, only that it was short.  I was proud to be up there, proud to have the honor, but I had no idea about how to give a good speech.  I still think about it with a twinge of regret, and will likely avoid watching the video of it, if asked.

That failed speech, however, taught me a lot.  I still get nervous speaking in front of people, but I'm getting better about delivery and actually saying something interesting.  Thanks to a great freshman year speech class, the constant requirement to speak in front of large groups, and my desire to be a professor, I've worked on it.  I've also become a lot less shy, which helps enormously.

Ten years ago, I was a high school graduate, naive and scared of the big, wide world.  Now I'm beginning a Ph.D. program in the fall and setting my sights on scholarship, research, and teaching.  It's exciting, this life of mine, if only to me.

I feel like such a different person now, but the reality is that I'm still that teenaged girl, just grown up and with more life experiences.  I'm different because of my experiences: college, travel, friendships and relationships.  Each taught me something new and helped me learn more about myself and how to navigate this not-so-scary world.  I used to be terrified of the unknown, but now I embrace it and acknowledge that it's still a little scary.  But part of the fun is the twinge of anxiety when facing something new.  I've learned to see the world differently, and that's why I feel so different now, ten years after leaving high school.

When we were at Lance's parents' church last weekend, the service was dedicated to the high school (and college) graduates.  One guy said something about how high school was the best time of his life.  I have to disagree: high school was okay.  I didn't hate it, and I have some good memories.  It wasn't bad, but I don't think I'd ever go back (even to redo my valedictorian speech).  I feel like my life is getting better every single day: I'm in love with a wonderful man, I have purpose and goals to work toward, I have great friends and family, and am surrounded by people I love and who love me.  I have cats who like to snuggle with me in the morning.  I am satisfied with my life and know that more good experiences await me.  Right now is the best time of my life, and if you talk to me in ten years, I hope that I say that that moment is the best.

Photo Ops

Often, I'm convinced that I'm not photogenic. I'll look at a picture of myself, and all I see is that I'm not wearing make-up (makes my eyes look tired), or my head is at a funny angle, making me look like I have an extra chin.

My graduation pictures were both terrible. Well, one was pretty terrible and the other was okay. I ordered the okay one because I wanted an "official" picture to give to family. The graduation action-shot--photo taken as I'm being handed my diploma-cover--was the worst of the two. I was confused as I was walking across the stage, and I looked at the camera instead of the person handing me the diploma. I look like a deer caught in headlights. The second photo is okay, except that my bangs covered one eye and my mortarboard slid back on my head. It was definitely the winner.

People tell me that I'm crazy for thinking I'm not photogenic, but I've seen lots of bad pictures of myself. Then one like this pops up:












And I'm convinced that I'm capable of having good pictures of myself. Thanks to the ever-lovely J. for making a decent photograph of graduation exist.

The Week After

If you haven't heard by now, I successfully defended my thesis on the 16th. This past week (and weekend) has been spent lazing about, reading books, thinking about putting the finishing touches on my final copies, and visiting with good friends.

The defense itself was, well, intense. I had prepared a twenty-minute formal presentation, only to be told the morning of that I needed to prepare to speak "no more than fifteen minutes". After the panic subsided, I figured I'd just go with what I'd prepared. When the defense began, my adviser introduced me and set an informal tone to the defense, so I ended up discarding my notes and just talking. And I think it went better than if I had been more formal.

Then came the questions. Oh, the questions! For about 40 minutes, they grilled me. I didn't have time to even be nervous about anything, though my adviser had to bail me out of one tight spot. Toward the end, the defense became a discussion on the writing and educational needs of engineering students from all who were present (I had three guests), which I thought was a great way to conclude. After receiving an "you're okay" gesture from my adviser, I stepped into the hall for a moment , chatting with S, an engineering professor. Then my committee called me back in and congratulated me. I was now a Master.

I thought I would feel some great sense of relief, but I was a little dazed after the intensity of the defense, and I still can't quite believe it's all done. But it is, and I felt pretty good. I learned a lot about large research projects, which should serve me well in my PhD program.

I've begun reading The Story of Edgar Sawtelle (great recommendation, Donna!) and I read Coraline on the way home from Little Rock. Coraline was good, and although the movie differs quite a bit, the film's changes enhance the story on that level. I enjoyed both for their individual merits, and would recommend them for children (probably seven or older, though).

I've also been cleaning and cooking, participating in the Kitchn Cure Challenge, and doing lots of yoga. I missed taking care of all the little household things like cleaning and cooking and keepting the house tidy. I'm sure I'll get tired of not working and schooling all at the same time, but it won't be any time soon!

Slogging Away

I AM graduating this semester. There's no reason for me not to. I've applied for graduation, paid my fees, picked up my regalia, turned in my forms. What's left? Oh yeah, my thesis.

I really love talking about my thesis. I've read a lot, learned a lot, and thought a lot. Now it's time to get it all out on PAPER. So I've been alternating reading and writing.

I met up with my adviser last week, and we set up some deadlines. I modified them to give myself a better cushion, but here they are:

March 2: turn in a chapter
March 23: turn in two more chapters + syllabi drafts
April 1: Complete draft due
May 1: final copies turned into the graduate school

Now, my adviser wanted me to turn in a complete draft on on April 15. But the thought of only having two weeks to scrape together my defense, revise and edit, etc. terrified me, so I moved the date up on myself. If I can get a complete rough draft to my adviser on April 1st, I'll be doing well. And also can possibly set up my defense; we'll, of course, have to see about that.

I'm slogging away at it. Right now, I'm shooting to get about 15 pages of writing per chapter, since I figure I'll add a lot more as I revise and edit. I'm also still doing research, so I'll add more in as I go. Then I'll have the syllabi, course assignments, and many appendices, so that should flesh it out to a tidy length.

The end is in sight--I just need to get to work!