"I'm so OVER this paper. Seriously, I just don't CARE anymore. I just can't wait to be DONE and I don't even care about my grade in this class anymore." How many of us have uttered those exact complaints about a particularly pointless and frustrating research paper? Now the better question: how many of us have repeated those exact complaints approximately 10 times per semester every semester of college?
Hi, my name is Barson, and I'm a complainer.
As a history major, term papers were never few and far between. Try frequent, lengthy, and soul crushing. Invariably, with each paper which came across my path, somewhere between receiving the rubric and officially turning the paper in, those whiny words would escape from my mouth. Just as invariably, I was lying. I did care. I always did. I said I didn't-I'm not even sure why now. It wasn't because of peer pressure to whine about how much you hate school. It wasn't because I thought the subject was uninteresting (with the exception of several truly abysmal papers that occur in every college student's life). Attention perhaps? Definitely because I just didn't feel like doing my homework. Regardless, constantly, I found myself groaning at the prospect of writing another paper.
Yet, I am a blogger. Again, irony, not my strong suit. Maybe because I enjoy writing about myself. That's probably it.
Back to the point. Through five years of college and graduate school, I have honed my skills of whining to an art form. There are few things in life at which I excel. Whining is among them. Whining about school work was my forte. While my undergraduate work did consist of many papers, including a 40 page undergraduate thesis on fascism (yeesh), my graduate work was even more lengthy and even more whining-inducing. A 150 page cumulative project for one of my classes was just the beginning. Having three 10 page research papers in a six-week summer program was nothing last summer.
All of this is to say, I have one paper in between right now and graduation. ONE. I have worked on it for seven and a half weeks and have completed 90% of it. The final 10% must be done by Wednesday. The last five years of whining without really meaning it has finally come back to haunt me. I finally, honestly, do not care. If I could turn in the paper as is, I absolutely would. This is the last paper I must complete EVER. Until the end of the world (if we listen to the Mayans, a paltry six months away), I, Barson, am DONE WITH RESEARCH PAPERS. Almost.
I'm so OVER this paper. Seriously, I just don't CARE anymore. I just can't wait to be DONE and I don't even care about my grade in this class anymore. Urghhhhh.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
I'm Baaaackkkk!
I may be starting this re-re-blogger post a tad early. Don't get too excited yet; I have still yet to graduate. Somehow, the irony of revamping a blog from high school and naming it "Life After Graduation" before I actually graduated was never apparent to me one year ago. As I, um, type I suppose, I have still not graduated. Dear, foolish Barson, why why WHY are you doing this to yourself then? You might be wondering, If the anxieties and real problems faced by those who are actively attempting to find gainful employment in this economic climate are still unbeknowest [still fairly certain I made that word up last summer, BTW] to you, why the charade? Do stop now. Jolly good point, my imaginary reader [I'm not sure if an imaginary reader to boost my ego is any different than an imaginary friend. At age 23.]!
However, as I am OFFICIALLY done with graduate school on Wednesday, and can have merriment the likes Oakland has never seen before, I would enjoy restarting my blog. Writing was always a passion of mine, and even though I find shockingly little to write about in my daily life, I shall bore, if no one else, my sister, Carinne.
In five days time, my blog title will no longer be misleading. I will be done with upper education indefinitely. I cannot see myself going to get my PhD; the grueling master's program I endured was challenging enough. I have high hopes for my newly rejuvenated blog. I am nearly officially an adult. It is now my responsibility to care for myself, and find full employment. As terrifying as it is, I also must finally confront the monster of student loans which had formerly lurked in the shadows, biding its time until the dreaded graduation date kicks in. This blog will be about my challenges, victories, and all-around attempt to regain the enthusiasm and excitement that I had throughout last summer.
The master's program I went through was so much more challenging than I ever thought possible. This year-long program was by far the most difficult academic year I ever had. I went into the program anticipating having a wonderful year. Although at orientation professors warned the bright-faced newcomers how difficult it was, secretly I believed that my Senior year at WVU was so challenging that this year would not compare. Oh how naive I was. How innocent. How blatantly wrong. This past year was a constant struggle to complete classwork, other academic work, and work to somehow support myself through all of this. 90% of my time was used up academically. 5% was sleeping. The final 5% was split crying, yelling, and being all-around miserable to the people I love most, my family, close friends, and Boyfriend. God bless them all, they all supported me through everything.
As I finally burst through that 368 (I started graduate school the day after Father's Day last year, and finish three days later this year) day long tunnel, I am very changed. I was never a very spontaneous person, but what little spontaneity I had is long gone. I am very goal-oriented, and am constantly making lists of things I must complete in order to relax (and rarely finish these lists). I am very cranky and sleep-deprived. I rarely have time to just enjoy life because there is always something I should be doing and can never let that go. Frighteningly, as I look back on everything I have done this year, I am not sure how often I was myself in many situations. Being put into a situation that challenges you every minute and that you have an incredible amount of responsibilities and obligations to fulfill every 30 seconds can change a person. I'm sad to say that I spent a lot of this year yelling and being angry.
I read my old blog posts of last summer, and find myself looking at a different person. I hope with all of the stress of this year lifted off my shoulders, I can go back to that carefree woman [I started to type girl, but as I am nearly 24, I don't think that's true anymore. When did that happen?]. While this year has nearly turned me into a work-oriented, exceptionally driven robot, great things did come out of this year. I know more about myself than I did last year. I certainly learned more, academically speaking, in this one year than I did in any other year of my life, but I learned a lot of life stuff too. I learned a lot about the world, how it works, and how I feel about a lot of these things. Having so little free time last year will hopefully let me appreciate my free time now and allow me to be more carefree and happy. We'll see.
In the end, this blog will be an official description of my journey [holy corny, Batman!] from pimply, angsty teenager, to party hopping, responsibility avoiding college student, to stressed-out, workaholic graduate student, to maybe, just maybe, well-rounded adult? God only knows.
I guess this might just be growing up. Braang it.
However, as I am OFFICIALLY done with graduate school on Wednesday, and can have merriment the likes Oakland has never seen before, I would enjoy restarting my blog. Writing was always a passion of mine, and even though I find shockingly little to write about in my daily life, I shall bore, if no one else, my sister, Carinne.
In five days time, my blog title will no longer be misleading. I will be done with upper education indefinitely. I cannot see myself going to get my PhD; the grueling master's program I endured was challenging enough. I have high hopes for my newly rejuvenated blog. I am nearly officially an adult. It is now my responsibility to care for myself, and find full employment. As terrifying as it is, I also must finally confront the monster of student loans which had formerly lurked in the shadows, biding its time until the dreaded graduation date kicks in. This blog will be about my challenges, victories, and all-around attempt to regain the enthusiasm and excitement that I had throughout last summer.
The master's program I went through was so much more challenging than I ever thought possible. This year-long program was by far the most difficult academic year I ever had. I went into the program anticipating having a wonderful year. Although at orientation professors warned the bright-faced newcomers how difficult it was, secretly I believed that my Senior year at WVU was so challenging that this year would not compare. Oh how naive I was. How innocent. How blatantly wrong. This past year was a constant struggle to complete classwork, other academic work, and work to somehow support myself through all of this. 90% of my time was used up academically. 5% was sleeping. The final 5% was split crying, yelling, and being all-around miserable to the people I love most, my family, close friends, and Boyfriend. God bless them all, they all supported me through everything.
As I finally burst through that 368 (I started graduate school the day after Father's Day last year, and finish three days later this year) day long tunnel, I am very changed. I was never a very spontaneous person, but what little spontaneity I had is long gone. I am very goal-oriented, and am constantly making lists of things I must complete in order to relax (and rarely finish these lists). I am very cranky and sleep-deprived. I rarely have time to just enjoy life because there is always something I should be doing and can never let that go. Frighteningly, as I look back on everything I have done this year, I am not sure how often I was myself in many situations. Being put into a situation that challenges you every minute and that you have an incredible amount of responsibilities and obligations to fulfill every 30 seconds can change a person. I'm sad to say that I spent a lot of this year yelling and being angry.
I read my old blog posts of last summer, and find myself looking at a different person. I hope with all of the stress of this year lifted off my shoulders, I can go back to that carefree woman [I started to type girl, but as I am nearly 24, I don't think that's true anymore. When did that happen?]. While this year has nearly turned me into a work-oriented, exceptionally driven robot, great things did come out of this year. I know more about myself than I did last year. I certainly learned more, academically speaking, in this one year than I did in any other year of my life, but I learned a lot of life stuff too. I learned a lot about the world, how it works, and how I feel about a lot of these things. Having so little free time last year will hopefully let me appreciate my free time now and allow me to be more carefree and happy. We'll see.
In the end, this blog will be an official description of my journey [holy corny, Batman!] from pimply, angsty teenager, to party hopping, responsibility avoiding college student, to stressed-out, workaholic graduate student, to maybe, just maybe, well-rounded adult? God only knows.
I guess this might just be growing up. Braang it.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Things I Don't Have Time for Anymore...
Dear readers,
I know you have been patiently awaiting my comeback into bloggerdom. The bad jokes. The crappy picture-taking. The unimportant and wholly uninteresting posts. These things are important. I know it. It's been a long, hard month without my blathering on and on about nothing. But the waiting must continue. I still have another two weeks full of scrambling to finish homework and falling into bed exhausted at night. You must attempt to enjoy your summer without me. How will you survive? How will you survive enjoying a beautiful, carefree summer indeed.
When I get my three weeks of carefree-ness, I shall be back! Dull life updates that no one cares about and all.
Love,
Barson
I know you have been patiently awaiting my comeback into bloggerdom. The bad jokes. The crappy picture-taking. The unimportant and wholly uninteresting posts. These things are important. I know it. It's been a long, hard month without my blathering on and on about nothing. But the waiting must continue. I still have another two weeks full of scrambling to finish homework and falling into bed exhausted at night. You must attempt to enjoy your summer without me. How will you survive? How will you survive enjoying a beautiful, carefree summer indeed.
When I get my three weeks of carefree-ness, I shall be back! Dull life updates that no one cares about and all.
Love,
Barson
Monday, June 20, 2011
Day 15: Universe!
Today was my first day of graduate school; ironically enough, today is also the birthday of West Virginia, which I find as just another one of the millions of reasons that the world is telling me I don't belong [really universe, really; today of all 365 days of the year TODAY is the birthday of West Virginia?]. The picture is of the one building I have classes in this summer; it is a windowless (but who needs natural light when there's fluorescence to burn our irises?), ugly, unadorned building, which the university has attempted to make more original with enormous works of art, and the much more modern, and ahead of the curve, escalators in lieu of any staircases (if you look carefully, I've captured three stair-eh-escalators in this picture).
Toto, I've got a feeling we're not in Morgantown anymore.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Day 14: Papa's Day
Happy Father's Day! Today was a day spent getting beat down by the weather, playing cards, and all around dreading the first day of graduate school tomorrow. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous; my chronic feeling of Oh my God, I bullshitted my way here-I'm way out of my league is coming back to get me. Hopefully all goes well and people do not find me to be the unworthy girl I probably am...
(No, that had nothing to do with the picture. The picture has nothing to do with anything really; it was a present from my grandparents to my parents. And it's pretty. The end.)
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Day 13: Irish Pub
Today, I happened to find myself at PISA, where I used to play soccer as a kid. Much to my surprise, they added on and added a BAR into the gym. A sign inside informed parents that they would be able to watch any game they wanted on their TVs-because obviously watching your child play a sport is not as awesome as professionals playing their sport.
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