Well hello there, friendos. Time certainly does get away from me on here - my apologies to the legions of my adoring fans.
The past few months of my life have been spent running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to find masters thesis research. The last week answered that prayer with the advent of an interesting and doable project, but has not stopped the running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to negotiate the specifics of working in conjunction with two institutions and, accordingly, two co-advisors. Basically, I spend my days looking like Hermione Granger attempting to brew Draught of Living Death.
I'm learning that grad school expects a lot more smarts and a lot less work. Coupla midterms, final exam, and you're done - but you better know your stuff! I'm still working on the knowing my stuff part. If I were studying "how to use up all of your produce without it going bad" or "pinteresting for hours" or "avoiding the real world", I'd be pretty set. As it is, no matter how tough my classes get I still receive constant affirmation from one place or another that this is where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be studying. #ptl. Some people know from birth what they want to be when they grow up, some people (me) realize it after committing to a graduate program, and some people figure it out at some point in between. There's solace in knowing that one way or another we all end up where we need to be, am I right?
The past few weekends have been total adventure weekends. Parents in town for city hiking? Check. 20 mile bike ride with the Jeffster? Check. (seriously y'all the boy shows no mercy we made two stops and kept a probably embarrassing for him but exerting for me pace and then I had to wait like three hours to get the DQ blizzard I had been promised woof) Ropes course and ziplines? Check. Birds of prey swooping at my head? Check. (these two things were at Callaway Gardens along with a very short canoe trip and a remarkably empty butterfly house and topiary SEC+Buzz mascots)
Nuclear camping? Check. (if you're curious as to what makes camping nuclear, it would be the inclusion of two or more nuclear engineers - in our case, four, with one double E thrown in for good measure) Yep, five of us headed up north to good ol' Gumlog, Georgia, unincorporated, where the locals are just about as unintelligible as you would expect. According to Wikipedia, "it is said that Gumlog holds the Earth together". Our destination was Tugaloo State Park and we camped liked nobody's business. We had a minor setback when Walmart was completely out of jumbo marshmallows, but I took a gamble on pumpkin spice flavored ones and they were a hit. I was chastised for bringing turkey bacon, but whatever boys your hearts will thank me one day. The weather was perfection, and that's really all that matters. Long live Gumlog!
The past few months of my life have been spent running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to find masters thesis research. The last week answered that prayer with the advent of an interesting and doable project, but has not stopped the running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to negotiate the specifics of working in conjunction with two institutions and, accordingly, two co-advisors. Basically, I spend my days looking like Hermione Granger attempting to brew Draught of Living Death.
I'm learning that grad school expects a lot more smarts and a lot less work. Coupla midterms, final exam, and you're done - but you better know your stuff! I'm still working on the knowing my stuff part. If I were studying "how to use up all of your produce without it going bad" or "pinteresting for hours" or "avoiding the real world", I'd be pretty set. As it is, no matter how tough my classes get I still receive constant affirmation from one place or another that this is where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be studying. #ptl. Some people know from birth what they want to be when they grow up, some people (me) realize it after committing to a graduate program, and some people figure it out at some point in between. There's solace in knowing that one way or another we all end up where we need to be, am I right?
The past few weekends have been total adventure weekends. Parents in town for city hiking? Check. 20 mile bike ride with the Jeffster? Check. (seriously y'all the boy shows no mercy we made two stops and kept a probably embarrassing for him but exerting for me pace and then I had to wait like three hours to get the DQ blizzard I had been promised woof) Ropes course and ziplines? Check. Birds of prey swooping at my head? Check. (these two things were at Callaway Gardens along with a very short canoe trip and a remarkably empty butterfly house and topiary SEC+Buzz mascots)
Nuclear camping? Check. (if you're curious as to what makes camping nuclear, it would be the inclusion of two or more nuclear engineers - in our case, four, with one double E thrown in for good measure) Yep, five of us headed up north to good ol' Gumlog, Georgia, unincorporated, where the locals are just about as unintelligible as you would expect. According to Wikipedia, "it is said that Gumlog holds the Earth together". Our destination was Tugaloo State Park and we camped liked nobody's business. We had a minor setback when Walmart was completely out of jumbo marshmallows, but I took a gamble on pumpkin spice flavored ones and they were a hit. I was chastised for bringing turkey bacon, but whatever boys your hearts will thank me one day. The weather was perfection, and that's really all that matters. Long live Gumlog!
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