Thesis, Thesising, Thesised = Noun, Verb, Adjective

Those of you who know me personally are aware of the fact that I am working on my Master’s Thesis. Although, stating it in that manner is putting it in a polite and flattering light, which those who are in the midst of completing their thesis or have already done so know that is not the truth. Last year I viewed those working on their thesis as people who had procrastinated and did not fully comprehend what all it took to complete, but all of those sentiments have changed drastically this school year. It has come to my attention that the word thesis is and can be used as a noun, verb, and an adjective to describe every aspect of my life. When people ask what I am doing, inevitably, the answer is working on my thesis or it can be pared down, due to time constraints as thesising. Therefore, there is a noun and verb form! Lately, I have also encountered that it can be used as an adjective to describe how others and I are in a state of physical and mental wellbeing, but once again … Can anyone be “well” while writing a thesis?

The point of all this … well, there is not a real point but simply a musing and an excuse to take a break from writing my memoir. A break from my thesis, a break from thesising, and an attempt to not become thesised,

Good luck to all my fellow comrades who are burying themselves in piles of books; going cross-eyed staring at their laptops; and neglecting the most basic human needs of hygiene, food, and sleep. It will be over soon enough! 

Lost key...

Today it was beautiful outside, 60 degrees and sunny. After spending all weekend cooped up inside writing my thesis/memoir I decided I needed a break and needed to get out, so naturally I put on my running shoes, grab Tux, and hop in my truck to head to a good place to run. When I park and I am getting ready to begin, I put my single car key on Tux’s leash as I have done for years and I decide to leave my phone in my truck because I want to enjoy the sounds of nature.

We are running and everything is going wonderful, the sun is shining, Tux is actually running in a straight-ish manner (only stopping a few times to go to the bathroom and roll in the grass), and I am finally beginning to loosen up my sore legs and get into my stride. A few miles pass and we round the last corner and I can see my truck glimmering in the sunlight. I know my water is waiting inside and my parched mouth and tired legs push through the final stretch to reach the cool water and shade. As I bend over to retrieve my car key, I notice it is missing. Gone. I frantically look around at the ground surrounding me and there is nothing but pavement. Oh, my God this did not happen … I have been running with a single car key for eight years and never once have I lost it. Everything is in my car … my purse with my wallet and ID’s, my phone, my keys to everything, and my water. I am stuck.

Standing there pondering what to do, I decide Tux and I will rerun my route on the slight chance that maybe, just maybe I will find my key. We begin running again, slower this time and I continually pull on Tux’s leash as he reluctantly jogs in the grass. My eyes are scanning the ground and I wish I had worn my sunglasses. We pass the lake and I let Tux take a drink and think that it looks very tasty, but I am not that desperate. My thoughts are racing about how I do not have time for this, and what my next step is if I cannot find it … there is a police station close and I’m sure they would help me get it all sorted out. We continue our jog and I remember that Tux took a short roll around in the shade of one of his favorite trees. I get down on my hands and knees and begin searching the grass, feeling with my bare hands the dry brittle grass hoping to feel hard metal, looking for a glint of silver, and noticing the distinct smell of dog poop (no wonder Tux likes this spot) when JACKPOT! My left hand grasps a small GMC black and silver key. Relief rushes through my body as I stand up and glare at Tux thankful I have my key but pissed that he caused me to lose it. I turn us around, we begin to make our way back to my truck as Tux drools, and I twirl the key on my pointer finger in victory.

7 Weeks

I lasted seven weeks in one place. It has been over a year since I could make that claim. I have been so busy running around the globe exploring various aspects of the culture and people that I forgot that sometimes you simply have to stay still. You have to stay in one place for long enough to find your bearings, to reconnect with friends, to digest everything that you have learned about yourself. I remained in Abilene for seven weeks before I began moving again. It only took seven weeks of putting off exploring and travelling for me to begin to feel roots growing in the community. It took seven weeks for me to go back to church for the first time in almost a year and join the church choir. It took seven weeks for me to realize how truly amazing my friends are in this small town. It took seven weeks for me to figure out how much they mean to me and to how they have my back through the struggles of teaching, being a student, and most importantly figuring out this crazy thing called life. Seven weeks. Only seven weeks.

Now I sit here staring at the map of the world in my little cubby, hole of an office in the basement of the library wondering what is next. Where do I go come May? What do I do? How do I change the world in some small way? On my right is a picture of a beach, my dream, my longest running dream. Do I find my way to the beach somehow? Or do I look at the other sources of inspiration sitting on my desk. I am confronted with endless possibilities and I can almost taste the adventure and freedom, and I can only hope that I am able to create roots like the ones I have been able to grow and mend in the past seven weeks.

Roomies

First home game with Tracee. Go ACU!!

Tux's snuggle buddy Daniel

First year and second year cohorts united. 

Goodbye 23

Every year I have a ritual that on my birthday and my friend’s birthdays I ask the questions: what was the best part of this past year, and what do you hope to accomplish in the next year. For me twenty three was a difficult year. It was filled with lots of ups and downs. I faced heartbreak too many times, had dear friend’s lives cut short, uprooted my life and moved to the middle of nowhere…twice! Pushed myself to the intellectual, physical, and emotional breaking points by going back to school to pursue my Master’s, running in and completing the Houston Marathon, and by moving to two new places where I didn’t know a single person…or even the language in my most recent move. Despite all the challenges that twenty-three has brought on I am grateful for each and every one, yet I do hope I don’t have to go through some of them again. I tried to learn my lesson from them the first time (that they happened this year…) With a year filled with hardships it has also been filled amazing blessings. I have made some amazing new friends through all the moving and travelling that I have done. I have wonderful roommates who both have amazing dogs, I have some of the best fellow graduate students in my program who share in the struggles and triumphs of academia, and I have met people in all corners of the world while travelling the globe who inspire and encourage me.

The best part of my year is very difficult to decide on because it has been filled with insurmountable moments of joy and accomplishment. However, the best part of this year had to be the opportunities I took to travel and the airport arrivals. The moment when I landed in Panama City and was greeted with a huge hug by my best friend. The moment when I stood in customs in Mexico City in the middle of the night hoping someone was waiting outside to pick me up, and the relief of seeing that UT sweatshirt. The moment when I rode with the window down in a taxi feeling the sea breeze in Puerto Vallarta. The moment I anxiously got off a plane in Mexico and took a chance. The moment I decided to take on Paris for a day. The moment I met my friend from Panama in Budapest and made the world feel small for the first time. This year I fell in love with airport arrival gates and the joy that they have brought me.

This next year I will accomplish many of my goals that I have been working towards for some time. I will graduate with my Master’s in English. I will have finished my memoir. I will move…again…to who knows where this time, all I know is there will be a beach nearby! I will travel somewhere…anywhere I can and as often as I can. But what I hope to accomplish isn’t a bucket list item or something I can put on my resume; it is bigger than that to me. It is a perspective change. It is to love myself and send as much love into the world as I can. To think of others first more often. To give and expect nothing in return. To laugh until I cry more. To give up control and just trust in life’s direction. To worry less. To be open and honest. To forgive. And the concluding item…to continue to grow.

Goodbye 23. 

At the summit of Vulcan Baru in Panama

Mexico City shenanigans with the the bestie!

Most beautiful beach I have ever visited. Yalapa, Mexico

Don'y be mad mom...

Tequila tasting in Tequila, Mexico

Castles in Budapest

Galata Tower in Istanbul with new friends.

Hello 24!

What's Next? 2nd Semester, Races, and Travel??!!

My second semester of graduate school is rapidly approaching, and I am not quite ready to begin the whirlwind of another semester and races to begin! My schedule is filling quickly with school, work, races and of course more travel! First thing on the agenda is the start of a new semester on January 12th....then it's time for the Houston Marathon; T minus 16 day!! I am terrified...the goal is to just finish my first marathon with no injuries, fingers crossed. Then it is the season of the Rhythm and Blues with the Houston race on February 15th and Dallas race only 3 weeks later on March 8th. Immediately following the completion of the Rhythm and Blues Dallas race it is off to the airport! To where this time?? Mexico City and Acapulco with none other than one of my favorite Valley girl, Sarah Brown! We will be taking in the culture of the capital city and soaking up the sun on the white sand beaches along the Pacific. My excitement for this next adventure can hardly be contained and it is still three months away. By then the semester is in full swing and will be over in the first week of May. 

Let the next challenge begin!

Abilene State Park, A Long Run

Today I had to do a long run, like every Saturday while training for a marathon. Today’s run was two hours long, so I decided it would be best if I found somewhere new to explore for two hours that was off the pavement. I decided on Abilene State Park which is approximately forty minutes away from my apartment.

Driving through small West Texas towns kicking up dust behind my truck I began to realize this run was going to be quite different then my other trail runs which have been densely wooded and green. When I arrived to the park I looked at the map of all the trails and decided first to run in the main camping section of the park then to cross the highway to make my way to the other side of the park. There was supposed to be Lake Abilene on this side. There is no longer a lake. Parts of the landscape resembled the cracked earth from the movie Holes…piles of dusty tires scattered on the lake bottom and an ominous barrier of cactus protecting further harm from occurring to the dried up lake. It was such a sad sight to take in, but in its desolation it was extremely beautiful.

The dry lake bed.

It was extremely hilly throughout the park

This is what is left of Lake Abilene. 

I was alone on the maintenance trails, and I have never felt so tiny in comparison to my surroundings. The further I ran around and into the dried lake I saw the magnitude of the drought in the lack of water and wildlife. I also ran pretty close to the giant windmills I have only seen from the window of cars up until this point. They are massive! 

Pause. Breathe. Slam Poetry.

I was a nervous wreck for days leading up to my first poetry reading, actually it was an attempt at Slam Poetry. Up until this point I have been writing poetry and have been content keeping it on paper because it somehow separates me from it, like a piece of paper shields me from my audience.Writing it allows me to process the poem better and gives me the courage to write vulnerable material without it becoming too intensely personal.

However, I was forced completely out of my comfort zone this past week when my professor asked me to perform a certain poem that is extremely personal to me. He kept pushing me to make the poem deeper with every draft, and the more I wrote and deeper I got into the poem I could feel my mood shifting into a dark place. When Tuesday finally arrived I was an emotional wreck...I was having difficulty eating and focusing, the entire day is a blur. After sending my final draft in a few hours before the performance my professor told me that I didn't have to get up there and read it if I didn't want to. At that point I had spent countless hours dreading getting up in front of an audience without my paper shield and the thought of not having to perform was a huge relief. I wish I could say I knew I was still going to preform despite my professors gesture, but I seriously contemplated not going through with it.

It is now 8 PM and the room is packed with people in chairs, couches, on the floor, and in the adjacent hallways just listening. I was on the schedule to go last in the first act. I had buried myself in a couch between Tracee and a Pevato twin, fellow English graduate students. As  my turn steady grew nearer I could feel myself beginning to shake and sweat...I kept telling myself I didn't have to get up there and read. Before I knew it I was walking up to the podium and was arranging my poem on the stand. I had to set my hands on the podium to stop the shaking, the room was shaking. I was supposed to introduce myself...maybe I did; maybe I didn't...I don't remember. I begin to read. Pause. Breathe. Keep going. Pause. Breathe. Speak up and don't make eye contact. Pause. Breathe. Regain balance. Breathe. Two more stanzas. Fumble over line...once...twice...third time is a charm. Almost done. Pause. Breathe. Read. Done. Numb.

As I walked back to sit down between my friends there was applause the sound grew overwhelming in my sensitive ears as voices began to carry on conversations. I hopped, tripped and slipped out of the room. I needed quiet and fresh air even if only for a moment. I sat on some stairs outside of the building and focused on breathing and not shaking. I had done it. I had stood up in front of a room of peers, professors, and strangers and removed the paper shield and let my audience see me emotionally naked. It was terrifying; it still is terrifying. As I walked back into the room I was careful not to make eye contact because I didn't want to see that look I dread in anyone's eyes. I reburied myself in the couch between Tracee, a Pevato twin, and added a pillow as an extra measure of protection and let myself listen to the second act.

That was the night I got my voice back. 

Are my eyes popping out of my head??

Friday was the big day! I was so excited I could barely sleep the night before in anticipation; I was like a five year old waiting for the first day of school to finally arrive. I couldn't wait to learn about what I will be doing this year, meet the professors I have only had email correspondence with up tot his point, and learn which other students I will be sharing this journey with. 

The first meeting with all Graduate students went well. I met the Head of the English Department and some of my fellow students, but most of all I felt confident. Then came the meeting for Graduate Assistants...now there were far fewer of us in the room and the meeting took on a more business tone; however, I still felt fairly confident at the end of this meeting. A group of us made our way across campus to where our departmental meeting was going to be held...we got there an hour early. 

While waiting in the Inkwell (I love that it is named that) we were all discussing which classes we would be taking and what they had heard about certain professor's teaching styles. Soon people began to trickle in and the food arrived and we all feasted on barbecue and blackberry cobbler. It was around this time when we began making introduction that my confidence began to dwindle...the highlight from the summer for most everyone in the room was reading books. My highlight was travelling to St. Martin and enjoying the ocean, culture and food...don't get me wrong I read lots of books over the summer and enjoyed them immensely, but the travelling was more invigorating for me personally. This is about when I started to question if I fit in...

After lunch the professors left so all the graduate students could get to know one another and it gave the incoming students a chance to ask questions. It was when a male student mentioned that typically you have a nervous/mental breakdown five times a semester (that's more than once a month!!) and every student in the room just nodded in agreement. The pressure behind my eyes began to build at the time. They began discussing reading notes and different professor's expectations (4-6 pages seems to be typical for a weeks reading) and they continued to bounce through topic after topic...I removed the sunglasses that were acting as a headband; the pressure had become too much. After this hour of over stimulating discussion I was beginning to sweat. I'm not sure if the room was just incredibly hot or if my nerves were working overtime.

Next came the time for the new students to sit with the professors and discuss expectations and other pertinent matters such as conferences and submitting work and presenting at a variety of academic conferences. The idea of presenting at a conference is terrifying!! I have trouble introducing myself to people without getting an adrenaline rush that starts the racing heart and sweaty palms! I started trying to loosen my curls hoping that releasing them from the mousse's grasp would somehow help ease my eyeballs back into my head. Then the topic of reading came up. Of course I expect to read assignments for class so you are prepared and don't fall behind, but I wasn't expecting the casual mention of having 700-1000 pages of reading a week. My poor eyes!! Now after creating a frizzy mess on my head I was rubbing my eyes smearing the mascara and eyeliner around...was it just me or was the room an actually sauna? 

Upon the completion of all these informative meetings I made my way to the student center with my head hung low while my mind was racing over everything I had just learned questioning if I can do this? and can I succeed doing this? I made my way down to the basement to buy a few final books for class and while waiting in line I lifted up my head. I recognized the guy standing next to me, a fellow incoming English graduate student!! He looked sweaty and beaten down...maybe I wasn't the only one who thought the room was hot...and maybe just maybe his eye's felt like they were going to pop out of his head too. So I asked him how his eye's felt because that is a totally normal thing to ask a new acquaintance right? To my surprise he said "It felt like they were coming out of my head more and more as the meetings progressed, and now I feel exhausted." Relief washed over me like cool water after a run...I wasn't the only one overwhelmed and scared. I was called to the next check out and as I walked away the room temperature dropped giving me a shiver and I finally felt the release of pressure behind my eyes as they sank back into my skull...I was going to be ok. 

The Big Move

On Sunday I officially made the move to Abilene where I will be pursuing my Master's in Creative Writing for the next two years, and it didn't really sink in until Monday afternoon that this is my new home for a while.

Abilene is extremely different from Katy/Houston, TX...for starters the humidity has disappeared which is doing wonders for my hair. Bye bye Afro frizz, and hello ringlets!! With the disappearance of humidity the weather must present another challenge and that would be the wind. West Texas winds might possibly be one of my biggest hindrances while running, biking, and driving...there always seems to be a gale force wind present, and it is never a tail wind. Also, it hypothetically should only take you up to 15 minutes to get anywhere in town (yes all the way across town is merely a short drive); however, my drives have been taking considerably longer due to my innate ability to get lost while using a GPS.

During my explorations I have found some pretty nice parks and running areas which I have been testing out and taking Tux to see. His favorite park so far is Red Bud Park which just so happens to have plenty of prairie dogs for him to watch while cowering between my legs! I suppose it is good that he has a healthy fear of them, but it does look ridiculous to be walking a bulldog who is so scared of a 2 lbs rodent.

The other big change is my physical living situation. I am in an apartment with two girls and one of them has two Pugs named Lily and Dobs (brownie points for the Harry Potter reference!) So there is really six of us in our little apartment including the dogs!

School starts on Friday and then I am sure it will be a whirlwind til the end of the semester with marathon training, school, and work. Wish me luck!