graduate school and lily allen

i'm currently listening to lily allen, who is this cheeky, british pop star that cusses up a storm in her songs. there is a dance beat in the background, and although her lyrics aren't poetry, they give me something to think about (sometimes) that isn't related to the two page paper i have to write to be accepted into graduate school.

speaking of which, in applying for graduate school, i've had to delve into my past.

college was particularly difficult for me. not necessarily because the material itself was difficult, but mostly because i'd always been a high-achieving student, and when i was left to my own devices, i didn't know what i really wanted to do with my life.

i'd been told by multiple people: "you don't have to know what you want your future to be", however, being a twenty-something who was extremely stubborn i thought "they can't possibly know what i'm going through right now because they know what they want.' this makes me want to back-up for a second and explain something further about my personality.

i have always had friends who are older. i've been told i have an old soul, and i would agree with that assertion. as a result of having friends who are older, these people have inevitably experienced more than i, and either know what they want to be when they grow up or are already living their passions. this has really caused me for a long time to believe that should have had everything figured out as an undergraduate student who was, you know, 19 years old. as wise/intelligent as i am, how fucking stupid of me.

ok, so after a not-so-stellar first round of college and a really shitty first job, i have an idea about what i want to do and as such, i've been applying for graduate school.

for the application i have to have three letters of recommendation, two of which the gender and women's studies department prefers are academic resources.

one of these resources is one of my favorite professors, who is undeniably one of the most intelligent theorists i've met in my short life so far. the other is another extremely intelligent individual who i had as my primary physiology professor back when i was wanting to go to medical school.

i met with this last professor to talk about my letter of recommendation, and i was reminded that i was not just a number in his class. he explained that he's had thousands of students, but, after four years, when i contacted him, he remembered who i was. that was so significant for me-- made me feel so proud and helped to alleviate some of the worries i've had about my academic past.

anyway, in talking with this professor, i remembered a "relationship" i had as a sophomore. i thought it was something, he did not. he was a medical student, and i believe we were attracted to each other, but, there was always something in the way. i think he had a girlfriend, but, whatever, the point is that i was infatuated with him. he was charming, remarkably handsome, and ended up being my TA during this physiology class, so i got to see him in an academic setting as well as a personal/informal setting. i was so unbelievably attracted to him- still am. i'm attracted to his confidence (egoism. that's a better word) and his smile, and his easy-going attitude. i miss smoking with him and just hanging out. it'd be nice to get a scotch with him again and pick his brain about being a doctor.

i saw him in his car a year ago and i remember being flustered as hell.

please don't get me wrong, i am in an amazing relationship with the most wonderful person in the world. i want to spend the rest of my life with this man, and i plan to do so. he is the only person i could ever see myself being with.

mike is different. he is the representation of a time when i really felt intelligent, when i could have a conversation with a medical student and be respected. he was the idea that an attractive and high achieving person could enjoy my company-- his friendship (and the possibility of more) was validation for me.

i've just recently (about two hours ago) had the opportunity to speak again, and i sent him that proverbial IM. fate is sort of funny like that. i feel that there are some things unresolved for me, but not with mike, just with myself as a younger, much more naive person. mike is the realization that i didn't have to know what i wanted to do with my life, i just had to keep trying different things until i found sociology and women's studies. i've also found wine, which has become quite a passion of mine.

four years ago i felt stuck. i had a lot of things going for me and i couldn't see the forest for the trees. my family and friends tried their hardest to help, but, it would have been great to hear the things i've heard the past couple of weeks from my recommenders about my intellectual and academic capabilities.

so graduate school, hopefully here i come. i'm ready to take the leap into the land of the unknown and find out whether or not i do want to be a professor of gender and women's studies. no harm in trying, that's for sure, and with the experiences i've had, i can accept that this is how you figure out what you really want to do: by DOING it.

mike, if you're reading this, which, i'm sure you're not, let's get together when you're in madison again. i really want to catch up with my past--it's been moving a little faster than i'd expected.

cheers.

holding onto a hero

i am remarkably happy with the local diner in my hometown. not only do they have relatively good food, but they are also friendly in the "i-don't-really-want-to-talk-to-you-but-you're-the-only-peron-here-so-i-might-as-well-make-it-worth-my-while" kind of way: this is what a diner is supposed to be. also, nothing really beats the smell of grease and the promise of food that is not 'healthy', but just plain good.

the best part about the local diner is that no matter what, i can go there and not have to look at the menu. i know the owner, chat with a local policeman, chuckle with the local retirees who are there for breakfast at 1:30 p.m., and take a short walk back to work.

my favorite part of my diner lunch today was the side salad: iceberg and purple cabbage with cut carrots, cukes, and tomatoes. this was accompanied by a quart of homemade chili (which is kind of runny-not classic, but classically 'the diner'), and (drumroll, please) an egg salad sandwich on rye toast, garnished with three leaves of romaine-- naturally.

i've been to some great restaurants in the past, and as much as i loved each of those experiences (bouchon, bottega, blue marlin, l'etoile, etc.), none of them come close to the warmth and good feeling i get from the diner.

when i was a girl, my dad and i would go over to the diner during lunch. he would always get the grilled cheese on wheat, i would get the egg salad on rye toast, and we would share a plate of french fries. we'd get sodas and eat our meals in about 20 minutes, returning to the (usual) chaos that is our family business.

while my dad didn't come with me today, i felt the same feeling. oh, he did eat some of my food (which is good, considering he is too skinny and needs to put on some weight), and we talked about the 'good times'. just having that conversation, i realized that i don't remember any bad times with my dad at all-ever.

i guess i'm nostalgic with this post today because, last night, i was really nervous about going back to school. it didn't really work out so well for me in the past, and those old feelings of anxiety started creeping in. i didn't sleep well, and this morning, there were definitely lingering feelings of stress.

i was linus today, and the diner, my security blanket. it's my recollection of easier times in my life where the only thing i was worried about was getting home before the sun went down so i could play outside with my friends. it's my memories of working with my father for the better part of my life-- being proud to be his daughter and being proud to work at his very successful business. it's the only reason i didn't go completely insane during my 12 hour shifts (which happened too often one summer), my time with my daddy. our time.

i guess i'm feeling guilty about the whole school thing because i've gotten used to working with him everyday. i've grown accustomed to us discussing the future of our business, how we're going to change something with our products, how we're going to handle our employees-- this is what we now share: what we've shared for eons, it seems.

i'm tearing up just thinking about losing two days a week with the man. he is just unreal as far as people go-- he is my hero.

i love my industry and i do want to continue drinking, selling, and learning about wine. the topic drives me crazy with passion and desire and i am thrilled that i have the opportunity to grow with such a great example.

the plan for aaron and me is to move to Napa when i graduate from college...again. i just hope there is a diner there that i can go and order my lunch, bring it to work, and share with my favorite co-worker.

sometimes i almost wish i could take my dad with me and we could do what we do everyday in California-- that would make the move (and my life) much easier, i think. it's hard to leave your hero behind, especially when that hero is tied to some of the most wonderful memories in your life.

well, life is choc-full of experiences that are supposed to stretch your mind and widen your horizons.

all i know is that diner i find in Napa had better be good-- it has a lot to live up to.

cheers, everyone.

the worst band in history

i guess, first, hello! thank you for reading my blog.

what made me start this venture you might ask? well, i've found over the years that i am an extremely opinionated person-- shocking, i know, especially to those who know me-- and what better way to express myself than a blog?

diaries haven't worked in the past because, lo-and-behold, i was always the only person reading what i was wishing to express.

well, not anymore. in theory.

if no one reads this, that's ok. i guess the idea that someone would click the link and take a look is much better than the actual act itself. it's sort of freeing, like postsecret. although the anonymity (of the author) is gone, i certainly do not know who is reading what i'm writing, thus preserving some mystery about the whole ordeal.

disclaimer: this is a compilation of thoughts and by no means will reflect proper grammar or spelling. as much as i know run-on sentences annoy many people, there will be many here. deal with it. it's my blog and i'll post how i want to.

ok, onto the actual thought for the day.

i titled this entry "the worst band in history". this is a result of me being subjected to Sugarland, a country music duo. they have won grammy's (proof that the grammy's are rigged and do not reflect true musical talent and showmanship), and they have two, maybe three albums out right now. my boyfriend's sister-in-law LOVES the band. so does his mother. apparently there are many people who listen to and like Sugarland. i do not.

this was the rant i had ready for my facebook status:

if I have to hear another Sugarland song today (or for the rest of my life) I am going to scratch out my eardrums so I may never hear again. They are the worst band in the history of music. Talented, beautiful, and articulate composers, singers, guitar players, pianists, baby kittens, and angels in Heaven are crying right now due to the inception of this musical tragedy. I think the only thing worse than listening to that foul woman singing would be my skin melting from a chemical bath of HCl. Wait, come to think of it, I would take that over hearing that band ever again. Whoever thinks this sorry excuse for a band is actually talented really needs to have their mental capacity tested as well as their hearing checked. Honestly, I've heard birthing cows with more talent and musical ability than the crap that is Sugarland.

a little harsh, i must admit, but true. all very, very true.

now, i don't want to categorize the whole because of the actions of one (thank you Sociology), so, i am going to narrow my thesis: the lead singer of Sugarland, jennifer nettles, is a horrible singer. she is talentless, has obvious hearing problems, and her tonality and musical ability fall just short of the noises animals make while they are in serious distress.

i know that i personally am not the world's greatest vocalist; however, i more than have the ability to carry a tune and i know much about singing.

jennifer's voice, to sum, can be likened (as i mentioned above, multiple times) to a birthing cow. thank god for the creation of pitch-editing software because when she performs live, even with an ear piece feeding her each and every note (including the ridiculous trills she insists upon attempting), she cannot, for the life of her, find the pitch. it ironically seems to be the elusive quality she so wrongly feels she's mastered. ignorance is (only her) obvious bliss.

you know, one would think that same pitch-correcting software could also perfect her tone. the answer, sadly, is no.

how sad that her album reflects as much musical correction as it does (it's really evident, folks, no matter how you protest), and she still sounds like hell? astounding. if anything, there should be a grammy category for "the worst artist AFTER hours of technical correction" winner: Sugarland.

i know, you are wondering where my disgust was born? i distinctly remember the moment. much like you remember exact details of your immediate surroundings during a tragic event, i remember the first Sugarland song i ever heard: it is still their most repulsive song to date.

"all i wanna do" is the offender, and most specifically, the chorus, where jennifer unsuccessfully exclaims "all i wanna do-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo is lo-ove you". yes. heart-wrenching. the Brontë sisters would weap- and not in the way they poetically make millions of readers weep, but in the way an onion, when cut, makes you involuntarily weep. hmmmmm, i think i will digress a moment compare onions and jennifer nettles (a quick diversion for you all to enjoy):

Onions

Pros: excellent taste and texture; used as a base for the majority of the world's diet; many different forms which yield many different variations of use; Bouchon's French Onion Soup--a gift to all

Cons: hurt eyes when cut; give you bad breath when consumed raw; occasionally overpower the flavors of the rest of the dish; unpleasing texture to some; slightly acidic

Jennifer Nettles

Pros: she makes other singers/songwriters actually appear talented when they are most likely just mediocre

Cons: hurts my ears when singing; gives me bad breath when i puke from her sound; overpowers all in her band and the radio; unpleasing tone to all; absolutely corrosive to ears

ahhhhh, the power of analogy.

back to my previous thought: every time i hear "all i wanna do" i feel the urge to scream. to make matters worse, the country station to which i am subjected during the day insists upon playing the wretched band at least two to three times per hour. i work 8 hours/day. that is 16-24 times/day that i have to hear nettle's screeching voice. i honestly thought i was pregnant awhile ago with how nauseous i feel all day long. i realized that no, i am not pregnant (thank god), just really, physically ill due to the constant Sugarland noise that floods our echoing establishment.

i could elaborate more, but as i was told by a friend, i've already written an essay. i understand that i did not completely elaborate, however, if i would really like to outline and write a true argument as to why jennifer nettles is the worst singer in the history of the universe (yes, folks, i've extended the argument to the universe now), i would simply not have enough blog space. it would never, ever be enough space. ever.

so i will end my thoughts here.

i hope you enjoyed, and until next time, keep your glasses, minds, and hearts filled. but, mostly your glasses :) cheers!