Defense

Today at 3:30 MST I defended my Master's thesis. I wasn't too worried.

My committee (four professors who have been giant shaping mechanisms for three years) sat smiling at a rectangle table. They were good-natured because I brought them cookies and because they knew what I knew. The heavy lifting is in the distant past now--my play opened half a year ago, my comprehensive exam was in February.

They asked me a few questions. They made a few comments. The feel was "Good on you" and the meeting was more "You have a lot of places you can go!" vs. "Let's navel-gaze at where you've been." I feel excited to move on. I love/ have loved school. But this chapter is over, and I have no desire to drag my feet.

I had to leave the room. I felt a pang of concern. It's strange to stand outside doors while people talk about you. I waited longer than I expected to. Wasn't it just yay or neigh? What's taking so long? Is someone asking I do more revisions of something? I stood still because I had nothing in my hands (which never happens anymore--hi, cell phones). The door opened. They said I'd be a Master. They all hugged me.

I don't usually love hugs, and this wasn't an acception. But that's fine. I know I have learned a lot in grad school, and most of it these people don't even know. That's also fine.

The library. Took this my first week of grad school.

I remember going out to dinner with my cousin when I was living in San Diego winter 2007. A strange thing. We went to a nice Italian place and one of his friends joined. We both got risoutto. Halfway through the meal she mentioned she had just finished her final grad school exam that day. I remember thinking it was an odd way to celebrate such a big thing. A rando dinner with two friends and a cousin? But now I get it. I'm here. The show must go on.

Finals Are Happening

So blog is backburnin'. See y'all in...a while.

If you're wondering what I'm up to....it probably looks like some for of this.

Finals Semester Dos: Grad School Year Uno

After reading this study question three times, in true self-defense, I just fell asleep for an hour:

"According to our reading, 'the linguistic sign unites not a thing and a name, but a concept and a sound image' (Saussure 4). Basing your discussion in this idea of semiotics, explain general structural and post-structural perspectives of interpretation. Discuss specifically how this relates to theatre performance by discussing how structural and post-structural interpretive perspectives might differ when brought to bear on a production of Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler."

Uh...kill me?

My current fantasy:

Swimming in my pool for an hour or so followed by nachos and watching Titanic again in the theatre. Then, brownie sundaes and reading Beginner's Guide to Community-Based Theatre. Other stipulations: a cold bed and warm blankets to read in, braless day, phone turned off, no emails, boombox playing Lucky Boys Confusion while I swim. Shut up, shut up, shut up--it's my day.

Cool. Now thats out of my system...Except now that I wrote it, I just want it more.

The Pacific in 2011. COME BACK OCEAN.

The radio plays our favorite song. It's what keeps me holding on.
Baby, do you miss me now that I'm gone?
Do you miss me?
I remember the day that you told me you wanted to find another man.
Now I hear you cry every time we play Arizona Stand.
Now I'm standing here with 50 of my friends and a keg of Killians.
And you're at home with your Ani Difranco tapes again.