Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Please Turn Left, Go Around the Block, and Try Again.

Yesterday, I had a meeting with the director of my Masters program at Uni. I went into the city nervous because I was unsure of what I was even asking. Which at WMS was never a problem; you could go into g-block totally unsure of whatever "it" was and come out with an answer. At MHC, if I went into a professor's office with a general cry for help 99.87% (if I had to guestimate) of the time I found myself sitting in my dorm room 20 minutes later more confused about "it," disgruntled, and with big questions about life.

I got to the office early because I didn't exactly know where it was and waited outside drinking my peach-milk-tea-with-pearl. Two uni students walked by carrying flyers and a big roll of tape. They had that self-important air that people get when their on a mission. I know I got it all the time at when I was at MHC the "please can you do whatever it is your doing a little faster so I can do this very important THING that I'm supposed to be doing that is clearly more important than your thing if for no other reason than I'm doing it!" One of the students said "I don't understand their.." and I immediately knew they were talking about American politics. They were hanging up fliers for a conference on the American primary process and what each of the candidates means to the rest of the world/Australia. I became increasingly self-conscious of how American I am, I wondered if they could tell I was American from the way I sat in the courtyard awkwardly sipping my peach-milk-tea-with-pearl. I was embarrassed that America didn't care more about other countries elections, and embarrassed that I barely understand our system of government, let alone Australia's.

(wow, that was a giant detour to my original story.)

So, anyhoo, I bravely walked into the office door and sat down for my meeting with the director of the program; who it turned out was not available so I met with a different academic adviser who had never advised anyone before. We started talking about course selection, reading about subjects that I can take, and planning out my two years here. I started to get that feeling in my stomach. The one that starts out like pop rocks gently exploding in the region of my small intestine. The one that I get on first dates; that is a mix of nerves, the thrill, and complete utter optimism that I'll get something right this time. The one that starts off small but grows bigger and bigger until my whole insides are bursting, erupting. Glee. I am going back to school and I am burdened with glee. With unadulterated love of learning; of men in red sweaters; of classroom dynamics; of that moment when suddenly your essay topic makes sense; of those friends that you meet; and those boys I long to talk to but can't; I am going back to Uni. Here's to whimsy.

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