"You're so 1990/And it's 1994..."

Life is trying to knock me back into 1994, where only my firefighter uncle had a cell phone and where the internet was just Tricia's family computer with Prodigy and it's wacky "Teen Zone" mad libs.

For the past three weeks almost, my cell phone and wireless internet have been waging a battle against me. Neither have been able to consistently pick up a signal for quite a while. I'm convinced I'm back living in Terrace 5 at Ithaca again, where it was not possible to pick up any television or radio stations. And seeing how much I rely on both things to talk to my friends (the majority of my friends living in New York State), it's made me appear to be ignoring you all. I'm really not. I just can't get a hold of you at all. When my internet works, it's spastic and goes out five minutes after I finally get online. My cell is just weird. I'm under the new assumption that the fact that I still have a 607 number and I no longer live in a 607 area is working against me possibly, and that it might be the time to take the plunge and get a 617 number. I keep teetering the fence on that one. One, I'm only guaranteed to be here a year. But two, part of this Boston Dream Life I've dreamt of for years involves me either owning a car with Massachusetts license plates or having a 617 number. We'll see what I end up doing.

So I'm not dead, I'm not ignoring you, and I haven't fallen into some deep black hole of post-graduation depression.

What have I been doing then?

-Tackling the worst and most difficult class I've taken since AP Physics my junior year of high school: Perspectives on Inquiry, aka Research Methods for Educational Research, aka A Class That is for Future Teachers, Not Higher Education Administrators, aka The Complete and Total Bane of my Existence. I read for class, read it again, go to class, take notes, reread again and STILL not understand a word of it. And it's hard to even care to understand, because learning about teaching teachers to better teach mathematics problem solving skills to first graders has nothing to do with anything I'm going to be doing. I think I took more relevant classes to Higher Ed when I was in Art History. That's how bad this is. If I survive, I will be surprised.

-Working my two jobs. Yes, I now have two jobs. I work for Boston U's recreation programs during the day, and then nights I don't have class and weekends I work at Olympia Florist, the 101 year old florist where you can find only the best flowers for your Shabbat. (We cater to Brookline's Jewish population, which made training there so much easier. "So, we do a lot of business for Jewish holidays and Shabbats...do you know anything about those?" Um...more than a Catholic-born girl should know.)

-Hanging out in Boston, making friends and having a good time. I love Boston, and the homesickness has for the most part disappeared. This is an awesome city, and I'm so lucky to be here. I try to make the best out of all my time here, because I know how tough the job market is in higher ed admin here. I probably won't be here after I graduate, but at least I get to live it up now.

-Getting all of my Dream Job hopes crushed. I didn't even make it to be seen by producers--it's a long story. I'm sad. But there was so much awesome talent there--I can't even compare. I am a total wanna-be compared to all of them. I'm really pulling to see some of the guys I waited in line with on TV. In addition, I've had sense knocked into me--guys get too intimidated by girls who legitimately like sports. I didn't realize it fully until a few weeks ago. So I've kind of had to start leaving that part of me behind. I'll never be anything sports related, and I need to stop thinking that guys are going to like me for my sports knowledge. After the Dream Job audition, I had to chaperone the day camp trip to Fenway, and when we sat in the press seats, I looked down and realized that that would be the only time I'll ever sit there, on a tour. I looked out onto the field, having had my hopes dashed that morning, having heard the bitter truth about guys, girls and sports a few days before, and just knew it was time to grow up. It was hard to take. I guess I'll only check ESPN.com twice a day now, instead of 564. I mean, a lot of people never get to fulfill childhood dreams--I'm lucky enough to be able to fulfill one (live in Boston). I would be pressing my luck to ask for more than that. Anyway, the field of Higher Ed needs me and my perkiness!

Despite this all, things are good.  I'm busy, therefore I'm happy. 
 
Time to escape research methods and go to bed...