Alec: "Mom, my underpants have been crazy today!"
I have no idea what he meant by this. Clearly his underpants are capable of things mine are not.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
the cruelest month
Every year, in February, I start to believe the world is going to end. Fortunately, by now, I have recognized this as a pattern, so I can at least brace myself.
This year I've decided to go one better. Since I have what appears to be a midlife crisis already underway, I'm experimenting with letting the Annual February Crisis feed into it. I'm hoping what ensues will be useful momentum and not total disaster.
"A midlife crisis?" you say, "What can it be? A trendy diet-and-workout routine? A life-changing trip to Tuscany? A tattoo??"
Even better; I'm getting a Master's Degree. And not just any Master's Degree, an MFA. In creative writing. I was really hoping to do a cross-disciplinary study in which I'd teach Cuban folk music to dolphins, but I ultimately settled on the practical option.
And, mind you, when I say "getting" an MFA, it's more that I'm "contemplating the possibility of embarking on" or "getting totally bogged down by the obstacles to achieving" or "berating my own insanity at considering." I have not yet applied to any programs. I am fairly sure I do not know three people who could write me recommendation letters. I am shuffling through very old notebooks trying to excavate something that resembles a writing sample.
However, it has moved up from the "daydream" stage to the "semi-possible" stage, which is an improvement.
I am counting on February to get me the rest of the way there, to back me into the freezing gray corner, to keep me convinced that the status quo is no longer an option. Wish me luck!
This year I've decided to go one better. Since I have what appears to be a midlife crisis already underway, I'm experimenting with letting the Annual February Crisis feed into it. I'm hoping what ensues will be useful momentum and not total disaster.
"A midlife crisis?" you say, "What can it be? A trendy diet-and-workout routine? A life-changing trip to Tuscany? A tattoo??"
Even better; I'm getting a Master's Degree. And not just any Master's Degree, an MFA. In creative writing. I was really hoping to do a cross-disciplinary study in which I'd teach Cuban folk music to dolphins, but I ultimately settled on the practical option.
And, mind you, when I say "getting" an MFA, it's more that I'm "contemplating the possibility of embarking on" or "getting totally bogged down by the obstacles to achieving" or "berating my own insanity at considering." I have not yet applied to any programs. I am fairly sure I do not know three people who could write me recommendation letters. I am shuffling through very old notebooks trying to excavate something that resembles a writing sample.
However, it has moved up from the "daydream" stage to the "semi-possible" stage, which is an improvement.
I am counting on February to get me the rest of the way there, to back me into the freezing gray corner, to keep me convinced that the status quo is no longer an option. Wish me luck!
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