An Introduction

It seems my life has been hi-jacked by Arab slaves and Mayan rebels.  Welcome to grad school, Joanna...now DRIVE!  Or, more aptly, gimme your car or I'll shoot you in the head.  I didn't expect this sort of violent interaction with history when I began this whole endeavor.  First of all, I expected to study 20th century U.S., so why the hell am I in the Middle East in the Middle Ages and the Yucatan in 1884?? Second, when I gave myself that motivational speech months ago about pursuing my dreams ("You can this, Joanna...you're smart, your confident...this is what you've always wanted to do...blah blah blah!"), I didn't consider the fact that this would be impossible.  Apparently I was expecting something easy.  Oh silly, silly me! Welp...I was wrong. (Enter Arab slaves, Mayan rebels, and a devastatingly overwhelming amount of reading here).  My life has been reduced to the turning of pages and the pages never end.  Ever.

I want to murder that motivational speech now.  I would slit its throat and let it bleed out...slowly.

Yes, I have resorted to violence.  This is what happens when you lose your words and you're desperately flirting with impossibility.  In my case, I start ranting and raving about things that shouldn't matter.  Like, for instance, Bristol Palin on "Dancing with the Stars."

Is it just me or does she have no armpit?

Ugh. Let me pause a moment to work out my disgust.

Who is the idiot responsible for this awful decision?  This is a travesty and my favorite show is ruined forever.  ABC could redeem itself, however.  I propose the Tanya Harding method of elimination.  This would not only satisfy my current fascination with violence, but it'd be damned entertaining.  The other option is to introduce the negative vote.  If I could caste -1 vote for every call, I would call 100 times every Monday night.  Bristol would be gone after week 1 and I could watch my show in peace.

Not that I have time for TV or anything. I have better things to do.  Like figuring out how to be a grad student without losing my mind.  It seems like an unattainable ambition after only my second week of classes.  I wonder if perhaps I should stop looking for apartments and start looking for jobs.  Real jobs.  But then Brother Bjorn calls me.  We commiserate together about the insane workload and I want to cry because finally someone understands.  And then he delivers the Clear Eyes, Full Hearts sort of game-changing speech that I needed to hear.  Thanks, brother.  Maybe this is possible after all.

But I'm still worried about the hi-jacking issue.  I wonder if it is possible for this pursuit to run away with my life and leave only a skeleton of boringness.  I have seen the end result of that progression (or regression) and it isn't good.  Let's just say that those professors wear sweat pants to work and they forget how to make eye contact or say "hello."  They are the ones who are lost in their own oblivion and no amount of social interaction or goading can bring them back from a total and complete state of permanent awkwardness.  This is the worst possible outcome for my life.  More than failing out of grad school or being buried alive, I fear sweatpants and irreparable awkwardness.  So I write this blog to preserve my humanity and save my soul.  Practically, it is a chance to exhale, to take a mental break, and to explore the lighter side of life--the innocent, the trivial, and the truly inspiring.

Like this cupcake...

"Yes I will have a chocolate chip cookie cupcake."

Or this view...

Not a bad view for studying, eh?