It's about time

When I worked for a federal agency, our office was in a buliding right above a doctor's office. All day long from our cubicle perch we could watch the pharmaceutical reps  parade in and out in their Brooks Brothers suits while listening to the elderly and disabled in our ears complaining about the high cost of the meds that were supposed to help them. In the summers, every Friday, we had a hard time finding parking because of  the huge tent set up in the parking lot. Caterers would come and serve the doctor's office staff  free surf and turf sponsored by one pharmaceutical company or another. 

Little old ladies were trying to decide between medication for their diabetes or congestive heart failure or eating, while their docs were dining off the cuff courtesy of your friendly neighborhood sales rep.

 Do you have to wonder why we called them drug lords?

Apparently, someone has finally gotten a clue.

http://www.philly.com/mld/philly/13703874.htm

 

I don't really know who I am.

I have looked into the graduate programs at Temple and University of Delaware. Even though I may have the intellect to do what is expected of me, I don't have the passion necessary to carry me through. My passions are teaching and writing, and there is very little in doctoral work that will really let me express myself. It is all theoretical and quantitative analysis, which to be honest, I am tired of even reading about at this point.

 

I want to write, and I want to teach writing. The MA I am earning at Rowan will allow me to teach at a county college. If I want to teach writing at a four year college, I need either a PhD or an MFA, as a doctorate in creative writing doesn't exist. I tried explaining to John that the MFA should be my next step, and he said what was the use of working towards my MA in writing then. Is it all academic wallpaper?

 

Last semester, I wrote in my self-assessment for Poetry Workshop that I feel that I am still evolving, and that I have yet to arrive at my essential question. Who am I? I am still searching for the answer.

 

 

Dr. Schweikert, I presume

I had dinner with a professor friend  before Novel class last night. We were discussing trying to be mothers while trying to pursue an academic career. She is working her tail off getting published so she looks strong when she goes for tenure review in October. She told me that if I really want to teach college, I need my Ph.D and recommended Temple. She feels that I would be a strong candidate, and she would write me a reference.

 

I checked Temple's site today after talking to John last night. Didn't find what she was talking about there, but I found a program at Rutgers- New Brunswick that looked good.

 

John thinks that I should do it but after adjuncting awhile and allow our savings to recover from my master's degree.

I hate it when they say that

My editor called me today to ask me to cover the Pitman BOE meeting next Tuesday. I said, " No Problem." She proceeds to say that another editor wants to talk to me. No problem.

Jordan gets on the line, and says, " I have read your work and I like the way you write." Uh oh. He wants something. I am now running up to Washington Twp to cover the organizational meeting for the township lacrosse club, and all of my plans are out the window.

 

That's what seems to happen when they start with " I like the way you write."

My Grades

For my first semester of graduate school

Poetry- A

Core I- A-

Fiction- A

I never realized how closed off I was until I became a mother. C has opened up my world. Sometimes, I go into his room at night just him to watch him sleep. He has been with us a month now, and I feel as if he has found a home, in my heart.

 

I haven't written about him before today, because I needed to keep him close to me. I have never been happier or so terrified in my life.

 

Every Wednesday, when the white van comes to take him to see her, my heart falls into my stomach, and doesn't resurface until they bring him back to me. When he calls me Mommy, my heart feels like it will break. In his laughter, I hear the tinkling of bells. He's my faerie child with his ocean eyes.

NYE

NYE was definitely a White Star night. Linda and Alex brought a bottle to our cozy little foursome this year. This is C's first NYE with us, his new family. J and I made Duck a la Orange that was delicious and but also labor intensive. Linda and Alex made Molten Chocolate Babycakes for dessert, which we wallowed in after midnight, and C was long asleep.
Today, after a leisurely brunch, J, C, and I went to Aunt Linda and Uncle Jeff's for their open house to eat some delicious Thai food and socialize with my church family.

I have made some New Years' Resolutions;

• Write every day-other than blogging, working up to 1,000 words a day.
• Ignore people who piss me off with their pointless nitpicking.
• Get organized and continue to get published.
• Find a way to focus on my writing and my family at the same time.
• Clear out the clutter that keeps me focused on things rather people.

Tune in and see how I do.