Almost Christmas and other stream-of-consciousness

It's almost Christmas and there's so much I still haven't done. I haven't wrapped ANY presents yet. That's right, not a one. I haven't driven around to look at Christmas lights. I haven't decorated Christmas cookies. I haven't watched very many Christmas movies. I haven't worn all my red sweaters. I haven't even eaten a single candy cane! (although I've got one swimming around the bottom of my purse, waiting for a weak moment when I will cave and devour it, most likely right before supper, thus ruining my appetite and yet making me quite content).

But I'm not that worried about it. The gifts will be wrapped... soon. The cookies will be made... although it might be January. The lights may not get seen. But I decided that this year, I'm not going to stress out about what needs to be done for Christmas. I'm just going to enjoy spending time with my family, continue to catch up on sleep, and relish the fact that life will go on if I don't check every item off my to-do list.

As my family likes to say... "good enough."

I am quite excited about my other Christmas tradition though--using my time off from work to lie around my house and breeze through novel after novel, catching up on the wonderful stack of books that have been calling my name for months. I'm a good ways into Wuthering Heights, and I love it, but I've got a Pat Conroy novel waiting in the wings, and a Barnes & Noble gift card burning a hole in my pocket.

I should save that candy cane for one of my leisurely reading afternoons.

In other news...

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The number one question I get, now that I'm finished with grad school, is "Now what?" Apparently the proper thing to do after one finishes a masters degree is to change jobs. Nobody wants to hear my answer: "I don't know. I sure do love my job. I love my boss. I find my work to be incredibly interesting. I love the enormous amount of vacation time I get. I love that I get to help people. And I love that my commute is super easy. So yes, someday I may change, but I'm quite content where I am today." I've decided that I'm extremely A.D.D. when it comes to hobbies/projects/after-school activities, and yet when it comes to my job and my church, I am loyal and enjoy the stability that comes with staying in the same place for several years (6 years at one, 5.5 at the other). I'm not sure what that means... the psychoanalzation will have to continue for a bit longer. But I do wish folks would stop asking me the "now what." That, and the "What do you want to be when you grow up" question. Because I honestly don't know. I have some inklings, but telling someone you want to stay home and write novels while sitting on your back porch in your pajamas, drinking coffee out of a giant thermos, sort of sounds frivolous.

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I had a blind date tonight. I really shouldn't go on these, as they never turn out, but blind dates are a gold mine for funny stories that I can tell for years to come. Tonight's was disappointingly uneventful--other than a giant pimple that popped up on my forehead about three fateful hours before the date, there was no drama, no tragedy, no humiliation. It was simply a nice dinner, some pleasant conversation, and the quick realization that there would be no need for a second date. But I did have the most AMAZING flour-less chocolate cake for dessert. So totally worth it.

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I am officially in half marathon training mode. I squeezed in a run tonight between work and the date. I should know by now that even after I finish running, my face will continue to look like a red, sweaty tomato for several more hours. Yet I so easily forget this minor detail, so I was still a tad red/sweaty for the date. I'm clinging to the hope that my redness was mistaken for a tan... and not some horrible disease. I guess in either case, it really doesn't matter. Oh... but did I mention that chocolate cake? (sigh)

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I've got a month off from teaching Sunday School, so I have time to study something that's just for me. I've decided to hang out in Hosea for awhile, and let me tell you, my Bible Commentary is definitely my friend. This book's a challenge, but challenges are good.

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Off to bed... Christmas Eve launches in just a few hours, and I have some wrapping to do! Merry Christmas, and God bless.

Cocoon

It's so odd, I should be feeling tons of relief right now. And I am, but I'm also experiencing the aftereffects of a 3 1/2 year adrenaline rush. I have had to go-go-go for so long, and now that it's over... I have experienced a huge wave of exhaustion. I'd really like to go hide under my comfortable electric blanket for a few days and simply read novels and avoid most of civilization. But in reality, I'm just going to try to take a few nights off to rest and recharge. If you don't see or hear from me... you'll know where to find me. Buried under my covers with a good book.

But I promise I won't stay there for long. You know me... I get my energy from being around others... so just give me a few days and I'll be back to my normal, energetic self. Only I'll be better rested.

But first... off to pick out that novel.

Insert sigh of relief here

Did you hear that?

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That's the sound of me NOT DOING HOMEWORK.

Scratch that. That's the sound of me jumping up and down, doing toe touches and back flips as I think of all of the many things I will be able to do with my life that don't involve research at the library (okay, so these days research in the library actually means remoting in from home while wearing my pj's), writing horribly long and boring research papers, taking tests, and reading thousands of pages of stupid journal articles that nobody really cares about.

Okay, I'm sure SOMEBODY cares about the stupid journal articles. Like the moms of the authors. But maybe not. I have the most fantastic mother ever, and I don't think she ever read the article I had published. I don't blame here. It was 25 freaking pages! I wouldn't want to read it either, unless I'm suffering from insomnia, and then it's a surefire way to get some sleep.

But all that is over. Tonight I finished my VERY LAST HOMEWORK ASSIGNMENT EVER. It was a simple 15-page term paper that I churned out in less than four hours. Just as I'm getting more efficient than ever at writing these silly papers... poof, it's over!

And praise the Lord that it's over!

I still have to defend my thesis later this week. And I still have to sit through three more classes. But I have no more assignments to turn in. They're all finished. FINISHED I TELL YOU. And I am a very. happy. girl. Giddy, really.

So giddy that I may not sleep. Hopefully the Benedryl will take care of that.

San Diego

Just got home from my last trip of the year. After adventures in Miami, Colorado, California, Greece, Italy, Spain, and Croatia, I think I'm ready to hole up in my house for a little while and cocoon. I'm only a month away from being done with school, and between now and then all I want to do is hide and nest and eat cereal.

But San Diego was plenty beautiful. I'll upload pics soon (have you noticed I often promise pics and rarely post? It's because I know all of you probably see them on Facebook, and it takes too long to upload them twice). But I'll do my best to upload them. Really. Probably. While I was in San Diego I walked along the beach in front of the famous Hotel del Coronado, I ate the most splendid Spanish food at a spot in the Gas Lamp District, and I enjoyed seeing several hundred marines at my hotel one evening for a marine ball. Many had come alone, it was just a darn shame that I hadn't packed my cocktail dress in that humongous suitcase of mine. Sigh... maybe next time.

I also got to speak at the national PRSA Conference. That was a bit of a career highlight for me--2,000 public relations gurus at my industry's largest conference of the year, and somehow I ended up getting a bio in the event guide! I only spoke at a break-out session, nothing huge, but still it was one of those neat resume-building experiences that I'll probably never do again. All in all, it was a pretty nice trip indeed.

Back to the cocoon... I will see you in mid-December.

This time...

I worked a 15-hour day on Tuesday. Okay, confession, three of those hours were spent sitting in class. But that's a whole lot like work (especially because I was still wearing my work clothes), so I'm going to just lump that in with the other 12 hours. I got to work at 7 a.m. and got home at 10 p.m. Yeah... a long day.

Which might explain why I accidentally ran into a store display at the gas station. I had to stop and get gas about 9 p.m. right before I headed back to the office to take care of a few last things, and decided to run inside to grab a Gatorade to hold me over until dinner (yeah... no dinner until 10... I've started eating that late about three times a week... great for the figure I'm sure). Anyway, I was in a total rush, as usual, and so tired that I wasn't being very careful, and just plowed right into a big store display of chips and candy bars. I have a nice big bruise on my hip to prove it. Off came the candy bars, scattering all over the floor, as the other customers--all there to buy their beer and lottery tickets--stopped and stared at me in unison... giving me that judgmental, "Uh huh, I bet she's drunk" look. Awesome.

But I have good news... 36 days until all of my assignments are turned in, my thesis is defended, and I am DONE FOREVER with school. That's just five weeks from tomorrow. Praise Jesus!

I passed!

PS--I got an A in summer school! I guess this proves that procrastination is perfectly acceptable, since I wrote my 50-page paper in just four days. It was kind of like ripping off a band-aid, only to reveal a raw, bleeding wound. So glad it's over.

Ten classes down. Two more to go. I'll be completely finished with grad school in only four months. Praise Jesus.

Nine down...

I finished classes number 8 and 9 this week. It was my seventh semester in grad school. The end of my third year. Two more semesters to go, three classes left. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel...

And the good news is, I was hoping for B's this semester. But I got A's instead.

I'm looking forward to a 5-week reprieve from thinking, which I will happily enjoy as I sit on a boat in the Mediterranean for three weeks, and then back home as I entertain my British relatives for two weeks while they visit for my sister's wedding. This may be the most fun five weeks I've ever had. I can't wait!

But now, back to my friend Beth Moore as I finish up Sunday's lesson (while munching on cinnamon bread sticks). What a great start to my vacation!

Cookin', and hangin', and wishin', and dreamin'

I have so much in my head that's just begging to spill out onto the page, but it will have to wait. I've got somewhere between 15-20 people coming to my house for Easter lunch on Sunday, and I've got tons to do to get ready for it! I absolutely LOVE hosting people at my house, and can't WAIT to have everybody here together. Most of the people, besides my immediate family, are other single people from church whose families are out of town and needed some place to go. It has become a tradition to host at least one random person at our family holidays, but this year is definitely a new record! I figure, the more, the merrier! I'm so happy to have friends take part in a special celebration. Plus, I like an excuse to cook for hungry people.

And in true Bethe-the-overachiever form, I am determined to have a well-decorated dinner party! So my good friend is coming over to help me hang curtains on Saturday (the ones that have sat in a box since they arrived in early January), I need to plant some spring flowers in my garden, and I need to figure out how I'm going to seat 15-20 people in my rather small dining room. I have purchased perfectly color-coordinated placemats and napkins for the occasion, and even found some of my discontinued dishes on E-Bay so that I could increase my collection from 9 to 15. I'm not sure what the other 5 people will eat off of, maybe a paper towel or something. I'll be sure to buy the 2-ply just in case.

In other news, I found out that my research article is going to be published next month in a major academic journal! We got the official approval this week, and while you normally have to wait months to see your work in print, ours just fell into place and it worked out that it's coming out in the very next edition! Ten months and 28 pages later, I think it just might be worth it! My professors are happy to have a student get published, I got a free trip to Miami out of it, and I learned a thing or two along the way. Of course, the next time I get published, I'd prefer to actually get PAID for my work. But that's the beauty of academia. 

The good, the bad, and the ugly cry

Today started out very badly. I got up at 1:00 a.m. to register for my LAST TWO graduate classes. I had hoped to take two relatively easy electives in July... a simple 4-week session that might turn out to be a bit intense, but then I'd be DONE with classes and only have my thesis to write this fall. I could practically coast right into graduation in December.

But best laid plans, right?

I woke up at 1:00, only to be locked out of the enrollment site. I was trying to beat all the other students who were also gunning for those two easy classes. So I tried again at 6:00 a.m. And again at 8:00 a.m.  That's when I got the bad news...

I can't take those two classes, because I am not in that program. But the catch-22 is, I am required to take electives outside my program. And I've already taken just about every class my program offers. So I'm stuck. There's literally  no summer classes for me to take. Which means I now have to take two classes this fall. And then DELAY my graduation until May 2010 while I finish that thesis.

That's when the tears started to flow.

I had been so excited about the possibility of being finished with grad school in only a few months. I've been on this merry-go-round of demands for the past three years, and I'm tired. I haven't had a good night's rest in months. I'm ready to quit. The only thing keeping me going was the knowledge that I'd be finished in December. Until now.

So I cried. Those big, ugly, crocodile tears. The kind where the mascara runs down your face, and you don't even care. Thank goodness my office has a door, so nobody else witnessed my extreme moment of weakness.

Thankfully, the head of my department is also my professor this semester, so after a frantic phone call to him, he started working to see what he can do (bless him). It looks like they're going to try really hard to find me some random classes to take. But of course, these random classes won't be nearly as easy as the other two.  I will continue to have no life this fall... something I thought I might get back. But no, probably not.

Thankfully, my very bad day got much better, because it was Opening Day for my beloved Rangers, and my friend scored me third row tickets for the big day. A few hours of sunshine and baseball helped me gain perspective (or at least helped the tears stop). My team won, and someday I may even look back on this little class scheduling snafu and laugh about it. 

But right now I'm just going to try not to cry. And I'm going to finish off the ice cream left in my freezer.

Eureka! And other things...

To decompress after a long couple of days, I went for a three-mile jog around the lake near my house. I typically run there on Saturday mornings, and there's usually another runner or two, but it's never crowded. Tonight, right after work, my little trail was packed! It felt so nice and neighborly. I've become a real sucker for suburban life... I love the little Leave It To Beaver moments I get every now and then in my happy little neighborhood. --sigh--

While running tonight I had one of those Eureka moments... actually several, but just one that I'll talk about. After several weeks of stressing about what to do my final project on (to finish  my master's I have to do a final project this fall, similar to a thesis, with a committee of professors, I'll have to defend it, and it will be horribly long). The whole thing gives me a stomach ache whenever I think about it, mainly because it sounds like another boring task that will suck away all my spare time as I compile 50 pages of useless information that nobody will ever read or care about.

And I have to pick that useless topic ASAP. Like yesterday, if I want to graduate in December.

But tonight as I ran, it hit me! I know exactly what my project will be, and this one will be fun and interesting and might even involve a few celebrity encounters. Plus I'll be able to use some of the research I've already done (thank you God!) which should save me from starting from scratch. I've still got to work out a few details, but as soon as I get the needed permission from the necessary folks, you all will be the first to know! 

In the meantime, here's some stuff that I got a kick out of today... maybe you will too!

Who says research can't be fun? While working on that blogging ethics paper, I stumbled across this hilariously hateful exchange between the editor of a major-market newspaper and a very disgruntled journalism college professor, who accused the paper of plagiarizing its code of ethics... oh the irony! Anyway, it's quite entertaining to watch the exchange get more and more heated. I like to picture their little red faces, veins popping out of their necks, sweat collecting on their strained foreheads, as they conjure up an appropriate comeback to one-up the other. It's pure gold, my friends. In case it helps, Steve Smith is the editor.

Did you know AIG is going to change its name? Like maybe we won't notice and suddenly think, "Whatever happened to that AIG anyway?" Slick, AIG, very slick.

And finally, because you know I can't stand him... A-Fraud is involved in yet another scandal. Apparently Madonna may not have been his first indiscretion. Imagine that.

Stay in school, kids

Oh the irony. Tomorrow I'll be speaking to a group of UTA marketing/PR students. You know, trying to mold the minds of tomorrow's leaders. 

Which makes what I did yesterday that much more deplorable.

There's two very cute, right-out-of-college girls in some of my grad school classes. They're a bit overwhelmed (it's that part of the semester where we're all a tad bit stressed), and one emailed me and asked for advice. She was so sweet... she said I was always encouraging, and she wanted me to remind her why she was getting her master's.

But she caught me on a night when I was particularly "over" school. Probably because I spent six hours on my Friday night doing homework. Plus another two evenings last week. Tonight, I did four hours after work. More of the same tomorrow. And probably Friday night too. So when she asked me for encouragement, what she got instead was...

The truth. I told her to run away, as fast as she can, while she still has a semblance of a social life left. I told her that I was sick of missing out on fun things, new hobbies, hanging out with friends, playing in softball leagues, and altogether having a simple, laid-back life. I told her to quit and to never look back. I was joking, of course. I thought she could tell.

Sometimes people don't "get" my sense of humor.

Next thing I know I'm getting emails from both girls, telling me that they agree and they're ready to quit. Eeek! No, please don't quit grad school because of me! I don't want to be *that girl* who ruined your academic career just because I was in a particularly cantankerous mood one evening. I called my mom, and to make me feel better, she admitted that she once talked a co-worker out of going back and finishing her undergraduate degree. She told her to go play with her grandkids instead. That very day the lady withdrew from her college algebra class and never returned. Another drop-out attributed to my family. Great. People really shouldn't come to us for academic advice (ironic, since my mother is a teacher with a master's degree, married to a man who used to be a professor with two master's degrees).

I probably won't mention that part tomorrow during the Q&A session with the college kids. I'm going to put on my best smile and sweetly yet assertively tell them to stay in school. Finish your degree. And don't listen to sarcastic girls if they tell you differently. We're usually just joking.

Fake Smile

I got a shout-out on a national PR blog today! A leading author on PR Measurement said in her blog that our paper was "one of the best of the academic + practitioner papers" at the conference! She also posted photos from our opening night mixer. And in true Bethe form, my eyes are closed! Yep, I love flattering photos posted for hundreds of people to see.

You can probably tell that I'm feigning enthusiasm. That's my fake smile. 

Here's what I was probably feeling on the inside...

(This photo was taken in Venice... right after I got caught in a rain storm with no umbrella.)

Survived!

I survived my big paper presentation. I think the PhD's were so surprised that we actually wrote a paper about something REAL, and they were probably a bit distracted by my pretty 4-color hand-outs (for a PR conference, the handouts here have been decidedly bland), so they forgot to string me up by my toenails and take turns beating me up with their criticism. Instead, they asked me questions I knew how to answer and complimented us on our interesting topic and method. The editor of a well-known PR journal stayed after our presentation and told us he would like to publish our article in his journal this year! Hooray! Everything went so much better than I had expected, but I'll admit that I was this close to peeing in my pants at one point. All that worry for nothing. 

Academia

I'm at my academic research conference in Miami, and it's quite a an experience. I'm one of about five non-PhD's in a room of 100 people, which means I'm the only one who doesn't dream about T-tests and regression analysis. They want to publish a 10o-page thesis on some obscure communication theory... I want to publish silly junior high fiction. 

But it's good to be exposed to new things. This is a counter-culture of people that I never really understood before, but after listening to 24 research papers be presented today (no kidding) I have a better idea of just what it means to be an academic. And I know I'm not one of them.

Please say a little prayer for me tomorrow as it's my turn to present my research... 26 glorious pages on employee engagement, control mutuality and dialogic communication. Some of these PhD's may eat me alive, and I think they're going to enjoy it.

Also say a prayer that I don't die of starvation. I'm not a picky eater... the only thing I don't eat is fish and cheesecake. Guess what they served for lunch... fish and cheesecake. Which  meant that all I got were a few bites of powdered mashed potatoes and some zucchini. By early afternoon, I started a desperate search of our hotel for anything edible. I was told by an employee that there was NOTHING for me to eat. No candy bar, no spare cookie, no hamburger at the grill... apparently I'm staying in the only hotel in America without even a vending machine. I pleaded with the gal, telling her I would pay for the food, if they could just find me SOMETHING. Maybe I looked like I was about to break down, because she eventually left and came back with a slightly-smashed nutra-grain bar. She probably dug it out of her purse. Bless her. 

Back to the adventure... I guess I'll go learn something.

Taylor will make it all better

It's such a downer when I write about how stressed I am because of school. I've been back in school for three years now, and juggling that, along with work and the 100 other things I try to do is simply exhausting. I'm a bit burned out. But I'm only three classes from graduating, so I will continue to plug along until I either finish, or marry an independently wealthy Baptist minister. If that happens, I'm going to QUIT school and become a "lady who lunches." Keep your fingers crossed, please.

This week was particularly stressful after I realized I will have  two 20-page papers due the same week in April, a deadline that is furiously approaching. The panic started to build up to near intolerable levels, until I found my new coping mechanism. Some people take up smoking, or drinking, or hard living.

I've taken up Taylor Swift.

On my way to and from class, when I'm having a particularly stressful day, I roll down my windows in my car and belt out Taylor Swift songs at the top of my lungs. Usually I include hand motions and fist pumps through my sunroof. For a few minutes, I forget my deadlines and become Rock Star Bethe. It's fantastic. And freeing. 

I swear I sound just like her. But just like Cinderella, whose coach turned into a pumpkin at midnight, the minute I leave my car I go back to being tone-deaf and untalented. If you want to see a show, I guess you'll have to hitch a ride!

Finally, school pays off

I found out late last week that the research paper I have worked so hard on this semester was accepted to a conference in Miami. In mid-March, my professor and I will go present our research to a bunch of public relations academics and professionals. And we're competing for "top paper" with some other folks... at times I can be a bit competitive, and this one has a CASH PRIZE, which means I would really, REALLY like to win. When you start talking monetary rewards, research seems to become a bit more interesting.

I could tell you what it's about, but the title alone is about 50 words long and would put you straight to sleep. Basically, it's about how intranets can provide employees with "voice" in a large organization. I have enjoyed learning about intranets and creating one of my own, but my 25 pages of literature review, descriptions and stats might just put you to sleep. Hopefully it won't put the conference attendees to sleep. I guess either way, I get a trip to Miami out of the deal.

Just give me the stupid grade already

I tend to have unrealistic expectations when it comes to my graduate program. Like, if I turn in an assignment, I expect to have it graded and returned. If you give me a test, I expect you to return it and tell me how I did. I expect you to actually read the papers that I make so many sacrifices to write.

But sometimes that's too much to ask. Not all my professors... I have had a few who are absolutely fantastic. And I have had a few who are not.

So tonight my professor returned my research paper... which I honestly kind of phoned in anyway. Let's face it, I had a tough semester and I had a 98 going into this final paper, so I approached it with a "good enough" attitude. I even reconciled the fact that I just might get a B. (gasp) in the class. My first in this program.

So you can imagine my horror when I got back the paper and it had a big fat 17 on the top. SEVENTEEN. Eeeek! Are you kidding me? I may have done a less than stellar job, but a SEVENTEEN???? I thought you could get at least 17 points just for putting your name on it. 

And then my professor explained that this score was like golf... the lower your score, the better you did. So I think, "Do I subtract 17 from 100? Does that mean I made an 83?" 

Apparently  not. Because  a perfect score was an 8. Seriously. Somehow an 8 is a 100, and a 100 is a 0. Huh? So I have no idea what a 17 means. I figure it's somewhere between an 83-91. Whatever. Honestly, I was too tired to mess with it this morning. So I took my 17 and went home. I take that back... my 17 and I went out for sushi with friends from class, and then we went home.

I'm not sure this paper will be going on my refrigerator.

Sushi Support Group

So a Muslim, a Jew and a Baptist go to a sushi restaurant...

Sounds like the beginning of a joke, doesn't it? Actually, that was my night--I went out to dinner with a few friends from grad school tonight after class, and we had a BLAST. It was so fun--one girl is a Muslim from Pakistan (but has lived in the US most of her life). Another girl is a Jewish Chilean who has just been in the US for a year. And then there was a girl from Keller... and then me. The blue-eyed blonde girl with freckles from Texas (sometimes don't you wish you were deliciously exotic? I do!).

I love getting to know people who are nothing like me, but everything like me. I love hearing their stories, breaking down stereotypes and learning what makes them tick. We talked about boys, school, religion, Middle Eastern conflicts, movies, our families, the election... all the stuff normal classmates talk about. And we did it all while eating $3 sushi at a little hole-in-the-wall close to campus.

Experiences like that form some of the good memories that I'll take away from my grad school experience. It dulls the pain of all of those hours of homework, the social activities I'm forced to sacrifice, and the evenings spent in a classroom with no windows. Because occasionally I get to make a new friend, somebody I would normally never get to know under any other circumstances.

In fact, we're already planning our next outing... a make-over party! One of the girls is a local television reporter who is a make-up pro... so she's providing the rest of us with a Sephora make-up tutorial. We may be grown-ups, but we're never too old to play dress-up. It's fun to be a girl, even if I'm not deliciously exotic!

But what if it takes two more years?

My family held an intervention the past two nights. My parents basically told me that I am over-doing it with school and work and life in general, and that next semester I should go back to just one class. I guess it's not healthy to always feel like you're going to cry, or collapse from exhaustion that comes from working two jobs and taking two night classes. 

Part of me wants to hunker down and take two classes so I can stay on track to graduate next Christmas (I have five classes left). But another part of me wants to cry at the idea, and realizes that life has become too much to handle. Will the world end if it takes me two more years to finish? If, during those two years, I can coast and enjoy life and play with friends, and only worry about school one night a week? The thought brings so much relief. 

Maybe they're on to something...

Retreat

I feel like most of my posts are about how tired, or busy,or stressed I am. All are true, because this has been the toughest year of my life. Working full time, having a part-time job, and going to graduate school has begun to take its toll on me physically. I have hit moments of exhaustion worse than I've ever experienced before. I keep telling myself that the worst is behind me, I have 13 more months and counting. Hopefully.

But today I'm enjoying a personal retreat. I'm far from civilization, sitting on my balcony overlooking a gorgeous lake, enjoying absolute quiet. This afternoon I got a massage, read a book, took a nap, and then went for a long run through the hills around the lake. Days like these are enough to recharge my batteries for a little while longer. After today, I can go back to the real world of homework, deadlines, and responsibilities.

But for a few more minutes I'm going to enjoy some peace.