Monday, Monday (ba-da-da-da-da-da).

And now, the end of the thing's I've learned. I'm feeling like this is going to be a recurring them as I go on.

6) Copy machines are magic now.

I've worked in a place where the technology was a good decade behind the rest of the world. And I learned to fear and dread the copy machine...until now.

Now I have access to a real, modern photocopier. You put paper in it, it prints out as many collated, double-sided and perfectly stapled copies as you want. And it takes less than a minute. I'm pretty sure it would do all my homework, and grade my students' papers for me, if I only I knew what button to press. It's just that A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!

7) Making your own food is costly, time-consuming and pretty freaking fun:

I touch the future...and all that jazz.

This week I'll be continuing from last week's post about what I've learned in my first week here at K-State.

4. The clothes make the man

This is one I sort of had figured out before, but now that I'm putting it into practice, I'm realizing just how crucial it is to create a professional persona.

Those of you who have met me in person know that I am a casual and crass person. I swear like a sailor, I'm messy, I procrastinate an extraordinary amount, and I still have a lot of growing up to do. In my head, I'm Alli, and I have no ambition, and no talents. In many ways I feel completely unqualified to teach.

One week down...fourteen more to go!

As I near the end of my first week as both a graduate student and a new teaching assistant, I've realized a few things:

1) I have always been a big fish in a little pond

This one is pretty self-explanatory. In essence, I began life as a brainy, book-loving, nerdy kid, and while I would never identify myself as a prodigy child, or the head of the class, I won't deny that my smarts and abilities put me well above average.

Those Who Can't Do...

So, I've just returned from teaching my first class ever. I was very nervous, but once I got up there and started talking, it wasn't nearly as bad as I had feared. Or, should I say, I wasn't as bad as I'd feared.

That's not to say that there weren't a few mistakes. For a start, I got to the office way too early (I was expecting a line at the copier), so I had a lot of time to kill. After I got sick of strolling around ECS, I headed over to my 8:30 class. Big mistake! I got there around 8:12-8:15 for an 8:30 class, and there were already students in the room! Students I had to entertain! Acccck! I spent as much time as possible writing on the board, checking my notes, and just generally pretending to be busy, but it was this kind of slow torture.

New faces, New spaces.

I refrained from blogging in the first few days of being in Kansas, because I knew I'd have nothing good to say. More importantly, I knew I'd be making unfair comparisons, but now, after the fourth day of orientation, food, and a shower, I feel a little more capable.

Having never really traveled the country, I literally had no idea what to expect. As previously stated, most of my previous knowledge came from books and movies, but when it came right down to it, I knew almost nothing about what it would be like. While I now understand that this was a ridiculous and boneheaded plan, I'm sort of glad that I did it this way.

Leaving...on a Southwest Plane?

So I've been packing for a few hours. And when I say packing, I mean......well, mostly instant messaging or browsing the internet, or editing a certain someone's cover letter, punctuated by short, intense bursts of packing. It's going well, for the most part.

For instance, I finally embraced the boyscout method of packing...and now I have a 40 lb suitcase full of rolled clothes. And as much as I hate to admit it, rolling your clothes does actually save space. So I'm in pretty good shape...except for the fact that I'm stalling.

Not only am I stalling. No, I've brought stalling to a new art form. In fact, I'm stalling so hard, I think I deserve a medal. Or a place in the National Hall of Fame of Stalling...or a plaque. Anything.

The Distance

As I make preparations to take the almost-1,600 mile trip to my new home for the next two years, I've been struck by just how small our world seems. Like essentially every grammar school student, I learned that before the advent of automobiles and airplanes travel was almost unheard of. Until the past century, people rarely traveled, and those who did rarely made it more than a few miles from where they were born. Sure, there are examples of those who ended up far from home, like Magellan's translator (i.e. slave), Enrique, who circumnavigated the globe in stages, but we have been taught that such cases were rare.

As a student, it was always fun to contrast how far the average farmer traveled in a lifetime with how far we could travel by car in a single day. In comparison to the medieval peasant, the car-less farmer of the 1920's or the Englishmen who landed at Jamestown, our world is huge. With Skype, we can see the face of a loved one hundreds of miles away, and Facebook and instant messenger programs have replaced the slow-moving, handwritten letter with the instant and impersonal one-liners. And of course, with Google Maps, I can view the entire world by satellite. It stands to reason that my world, unlike the world of the pilgrim, farmer, or peasant, is limitless. But I'm not so sure anymore.

Back from the Land of the Dead....

When I started writing here, I promised myself I'd write once a week. You see, I've tried (and failed at) blogging a few times now, and it's never worked. I get too lazy, forget to post, or get disillusioned when my posts don't generate the feedback I crave. This time I was hell-bent on making it work, so I set up automatic updates to compensate, and for awhile it was good. I thought I was safe, and in control, and finally on my way to responsible bloggerdom and then life happened.

For a start, finals kicked my butt. I had expected finals to be a bit of an obstacle, but I honestly was not prepared for the stress of finishing two majors, (which consists of 4 classes at the 300/400 level) in addition to the stress of graduate school preparation. I was also unprepared for the relative disorganization of History professors who are completely capable of "forgetting" the existence of finals, or 20 page essays. I worked the entire week before finals, and the entire week of finals up to the day before graduation. When all was said and done I turned in over 100 pages of material, while still managing to keep up my GPA and Magna Cum Laude. I'm still not sure how I managed it.

Technology vs. Tradition...

This Fall, (back when I wrote for our school newspaper), the editor for the Arts and Entertainment section of the Keene Equinox asked me to weigh in on the e-book vs. print book debate. Prior to that essay, I had written book reviews on books of various genres, so that made me the resident "book expert". At the time, I had very strong opinions on the matter, and wrote a length article on the subject- now, I won't subject you to the entire article (though, if you're interested, it can be read here) but I think an excerpt will help to show you just how opposed I was to the who ebook reader concept:

Back from Disney!

I recently took a trip with my family to Walt Disney World. The last time I had gone was also my first trip, around seven years ago, and due to a combination of little sister and intense Florida summer-heat, I did not really enjoy it as much as I could have, so I was sort of dreading the whole thing.


I don't know if I've grown up, or if we were more at ease, or if just being at a different place in my life really made a difference, but I actually enjoyed myself this time around! One thing's for sure- the park hasn't changed one bit....and although it's been 6 years, it's exactly as I remember it. The weather was hot, sunny, and humid (the temperature stayed above 85 the entire time we were there), the park was crowded and the food was expensive as anything. (Although some meals, like the cinnamon glazed french toast, were totally worth it).

Procrastination and stagnation...

I've always been in love with writing, but as far as I can remember, I've never been able to finish something that wasn't for a class. It's been a pattern I've repeated over and over since I was 9 or 10, and it's terrible. Absolutely terrible.

Although it's been a lot of work, I'm really happy that I decided to enroll in ENG-490 Writing Workshop with professor Kirsti Sandy. She has been an amazing resource, and taking the class has really helped me to develop my voice and confidence in my writing. That's not to say I wasn't a good writer, but just doing the work has helped make me even better- and since when is progress a bad thing?

How I got here...

I've spent a few posts talking about my general angst and or anxieties about the recent turn my life has taken, but it's occurred to me that I haven't really provided any real justification for my decision to accept KSU's offer. So here goes:

As you might guess, choosing my future and taking decisive action have never been my strengths. I always worry about the consequences of my decisions, and before I know it, my opportunities have passed me by. I spent my entire college career waiting to discover my passion, but I eventually selected English because I just didn't know what else to do.

Don't get me wrong- I enjoy English. I'm a good writer, and I enjoy reading and interpreting well-written texts, so while I was comfortable, I didn't love it. For some reason, the books I read on my own were hundreds of times more amazing and engaging to me than my required reading. While my peers devoured James Joyce and Poe and talked about them with adoration, I wondered if there was more to English.

Whenever possible, I avoided the classics. Instead of reading romantic authors or post-modern novels, I took classes focusing on mythology or cultural issues- (in my case, Arthurian myths in Medieval Literature, or the works of Native American author, Louise Erdrich in a variety of Native American Literature classes). All the while, I supplemented this required reading with a large assortment of books for children.

On a whim, I enrolled in a class for early childhood education majors focused on Children's Literature, and I discovered the passion I had been missing. Never before in my undergraduate career had I been so focused, so engaged and so in love with a subject. I attended every class, sat in the front row, and took notes like a fiend, and even did extra readings to supplement and broaden my understanding of the topic. And yes, I read the entire textbook, a feat I have never achieved before or after the class.

The class had a reputation for its high level of difficulty, so I put in extra hours studying and remembering authors, terms, whatever, just to get an edge.

Studying a genre I loved so intensely literally revolutionized my study habits, but it also had another, more important impact on my life: it gave me a goal and a future to work toward. I had always loved children's literature- I had discovered this love when I began working in the Children's Department of my local library, but taking the class made me realize that there were opportunities there, too. I had simply assumed that children's literature/young adult literature was something to be read for enjoyment. I never realized that people studied it, taught it, analyzed it, but once I did, I had a better idea of the field I needed to be in.

As a result of its combined financial aid options, available TA positions, and specialization in Children's Literature, KSU became my top choice. And while I'm terrified about what the future holds, the prospect of studying and learning more about something I love so intensely......well, it makes me excited, too!

Resume? When did I ever stop...?

As the New England career fair looms closer, I've been thinking more and more about the whole application process.

Thus far, my experience with jobs and interviews and employers has been restricted to part-time positions at the local library, and the local grocery store. In both cases, a resume was not required, and the interview was informal and low-stress.

This time around, though, things are way more intense. The game is high-stakes, and the prize is a possible position, a career, a yearly salary...............essentially everything you've ever been taught to expect out of life. So don't mess up.

So lately I've been working on making my resume pop. Although I won't be applying for real positions quite yet (I'm stalling for two years, remember?) , I figured the regional job fair would be good practice- and who knows, maybe it'll help me get a summer job to pay for books for this upcoming fall! I'd made up a resume a few months ago, at the suggestion of my father, but I decided to do a major overhaul. And that's where I hit a brick wall.

Consulting the internet, I quickly realized that there is no expert on resume form or etiquette. While some sources recommended brief descriptions, others emphasized a wordier approach. Some spoke praise of unique fonts and formatting, while others swear by the tried-and-true 12 point Times New Roman. My father had suggested I list high school achievements, while many sources warned against doing so. But most puzzling was the argument on objective statements. While some sites and "experts" stressed the importance of objective sections, others pointed out they simply waste space and limit options.......why the heck can't anyone agree on the matter?!

When all is said and done, I think my new resume is attractive, readable, and  a good reflection on my achievements and employment record thus far. I ended up avoiding an objective statement, as I had no real objective in mind. Hopefully my resume will change and become stronger as I gain more experience and hold more positions, but overall, I'm happy with what I've done.



Still, reading all about resume styles and approaches helped me realize that there are a lot of different rules, formats and opinions on how they should look. So, readers- what's the best resume-related tip you ever got? What about the worst?

What is "gainful employment", anyway?

When I was younger, I never really gave much thought to the process of finding a job. Then, a job was an extension of yourself. To six-year-old me, a doctor perpetually wore a white coat, stethoscope and one of those parabolic reflectors on his head. In essence, I saw the career overwhelming the individual, and maybe (on some level) I still do.

I had heard time and time again that I was "born" to be a writer, and I took that literally. Subconsciously, I believed that people just became what they were meant to be. I just assumed that people did what they were good at, loved their jobs, excelled in the work place. I assumed that there were plenty of jobs for all people, and that these jobs paid enough. Then, the homeless were lazy, and the overworked, graveyard-shift employees were simply unlucky.

When it comes right down to it, I never gave much thought to the work that goes into building a career. I never considered all the training and hours of labor that went into becoming a doctor, or lawyer, or chef. And now that I'm at that point, I'm not sure what it is that's worth that time. I'm not sure if I want something bad enough to spend my entire life working for it.

The realization was an overwhelming one, but I never really considered what it all meant until I read John Green's Paper Towns. In one particular scene, the titular and mysterious Margo Roth Spiegelman expresses her frustration with the expectations of those around her the entire college process and experience to Q, the protagonist of the novel.
 

"Did you know that for pretty much the entire history of the human  species, the average life span was less than thirty years? You could count on ten years or so of real adulthood, right? There was noplanning for retirement, There was no planning for a career. Therewas no planning. No time for planning. No time for a future. 

But then the life spans started getting longer, and people started having more and more future. And now life has become the future. Every moment of your life is lived for the future--you go to high school soyou can go to college so you can get a good job so you can get a  nice house so you can afford to send your kids to college so they can get a good job so they can get a nice house so they can afford to send their kids to college."

The idea that John Green expresses through Margo is something I've been wrestling with, myself, and so it really struck a chord with me.As a soon-to-be college graduate, I spend a lot of time thinking about, preparing for, and working towards my career and the future. I've been taught to prepare and plan and toil away for the future, but when it gets right down to it, where's the time for living? But then, when I add the revelation that my life- all our lives - has been a series of events to prepare me to provide for my future offspring is a horrifying thought, but ultimately, a very true one.

Just think about it. In the United States we're required to educate ourselves until at least the age of 16 (although my town, and many others have recently raised the age to 18), and during that time we gain certain skills, (the ability to read, write, do basic math, and understand fundamental scientific concepts, and an understanding of our country's history to name a few). In high school, I learned Calculus (so I could do well on the SATs), Chemistry (because it was required for graduation), French (because it would improve my chances of getting accepted into college), and Honors/AP level classes (again, to improve the chances of getting into a good school). I worked hard to get good grades (once again, to prove myself and get into a good school).

I took the PSATs (ugh), enrolled in a semester-long SAT prep class, took three years of English with intergrated "SAT question preparation" lessons, and paid $60 to take the SATs, then another $60 to take it again (so I could get into a good college).

Upon getting into college, I worked hard to keep my GPA above a 3.7, added a second (and for all intents and purposes, useless) major in 20th century History, joined three honor societies, wrote for the school newspaper, held countless leadership positions (president, historian, secretary, student representative, you name it, really) all for my future employment/possible grad school.

And now, I'm applying to graduate school and a TA position so I can get a job, so I can afford to live my life and have a family. And all my work will be to ensure that my children get a good future.

With all this preparation, I know the odds are slim that I will be employed at all. And even if I am employed, the job I get will most likely not be the one I have been dreaming of. It will not be an extension of myself, which is kind of a bummer, which makes me wonder: what is it that I want? What will I do for me?

It's definitely something I'll be giving some serious thought.

Progress...

I've gotten an offer from Kansas State University. Free tuition and $10,000 a year. In exchange, I will be expected to teach expository writing to their undergraduate students in the fall. Although it's a tempting offer, I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that it also scares the bejeezus out of me. I don't feel old enough for the responsibility. Less than four years ago, I was a freshman in college, without a major or any direction in life... hell, I still remember what it felt like to  be a freshman in high school!

My biggest fear in high school was that I wouldn't get into a good college. I severely underestimated my talents, and felt that I was not smart enough or involved enough to get into a “good” school. I had always just assumed I'd go to college, but in all honesty, I had never really given college any thought. I put off thinking and deciding until the very last minute, but when I couldn't avoid it any more, I was practically frozen with the fear that I would somehow fail.

Now, I can't believe how foolish I was.

Not only was I accepted into all of the schools I applied for, but my high grades qualified me for a variety of scholarships and, in one case, a prestigious honors program. I ended up following my gut and chose Keene State College for it's small class sizes, low price tag, beautiful scenic campus and the academic challenge promised by their Honors catalog. Overall, the experience has been a really positive one. The classes, while work-intensive, haven't been particularly challenging or difficult, and KSC provided me with the tools and experiences I needed to grow and become a more mature and assertive position.Not to mention it also gave me an opportunity to meet a group of fascinating and intelligent people who have changed me for the better.

And now...Now I'm a senior, procrastinating on my final papers and looking forward to two more years of education, but I don't feel any different than that girl who didn't know what school to pick. How the hell is it that they expect me - of all people- to teach a course on writing?! And what makes them so sure I won't crash and burn and ruin the academic future of all their students? They must be insane!

The beginning of a journey

I could launch into any one of a hundred cliches about footsteps and life journeys, but I've never had much patience for that sort of thing. That, and to claim my life has been a journey would be doing you, the reader, a huge disservice. For a start, claiming my life is a journey implies that I have experienced hardships, struggles and adventure, and that is absolutely not the case. Let's just say that if the story of my life was made into a book, it'd probably be as riveting as the average unabridged dictionary.

No, I am setting out on a real, honest-to-goodness journey from Southern New Hampshire to Manhattan, Kansas. This might not seem like a lot to some of you, but to someone who has lived all of their twenty-two years in one very small state, it's a big change. Colossal, in fact.

I have lived in my house, a nondescript tan ranch in the middle of the 'burbs, literally since I was a fetus (my parents closed on our house when my mother was still pregnant). I'm 5'6", with brown hair and brown eyes, and I have a scar on my left temple from when I had chicken pox when I was seven. I sing a little, draw a little, and even write from time to time. I've got two parents, a dog, and a younger sister, and when I was little I dreamed of becoming a physical therapist for animals, because I couldn't stand the sight of blood. Oh, and from the time I started attending school, the one thing that ever set me apart was my obsession with reading.

I think I'm unique, but deep down I know I'm not. There are hundreds of thousands of girls just like me, who love the same books I do, and want the same things out of life. It's almost comforting to know that I'm not alone with my hobbies and values. It makes the world less scary.

But the world is scary. It's even scarier when you're about to be a college graduate with a bachelor's degree in English in the middle of economic recession, with no car, no job, and no experience. Then, it is absofuckinglutely terrifying.

So I'm doing something unexpected. I'm doing something bold, daring, maybe even crazy. I'm making a conscious decision to leave everything I know, (including my Massachusetts accent), behind in order to pursue a Master's degree in English. I am leaving behind the house I grew up in, the boyfriend I spent three years wooing, the aging dog who can always cheer me up, and my parents, (who have never let me do a thing on my own), to go to Kansas, where I do not know a single soul.

In essence, I am leaving everything I know behind so I can find myself and the conviction that I lack. It's absolutely nerve-wracking and it makes my careful, cautious and shy self cringe.

And I say, bring it.