So a decision to shift the UP academic calendar has been reached, and we get a four month long break before classes start again. This means I don’t have to worry about taking a leave of absence so I can break my neck in a roller derby rink somewhere in Texas. Keeping my fingers crossed for the next couple of weeks, but what I’m sure about right now is that I have 24 hours in San Francisco followed by a week in New York, then Houston, then who knows where, the LA.
Submitted half of my students’ grades today. The other half are still living in suspense, so sorry about that. Please nag your classmates to submit their stuff so I don’t have to deal with the guilt of ruining their lives by delaying their degrees.
I ended my day at work by nominating my thesis adviser. I’m still coping with the reality that I spent the past four years finishing my grad school coursework and teaching. And I’m wondering why I looked so, so tired in the passport picture I had taken earlier.
And just like that, it’s done. Onward to the next chapter or whatever, and I hope it’s not a desk somewhere.
I was thinking, maybe I need that discipline of pinning myself to a desk again. Last night I was up working ’til 5 am, but it’s not as if the beating my biogical clock takes is completely out of my control.
I was also thinking (or rather forced to think) about how far back I’ve set my personal life. Usually, catching up with friends involves keeping them posted on who’s dating who, and for the past few years it’s just been me and the job. Or the career.
The thing with the career is that it’s the best thing I’ve got right now. My professor in my research methods class saw my theoretical framework and asked, “Oh, Lefebvre, have you read him in French?”
And I was like, “NON.” Because, why would I?
Then she gives me this dismayed look which just means “You should.”
So four years whip past: on to the next four years. I’ll be 32, which isn’t such a big deal. I guess I have to learn French because all the theory I chose is in French. I also can’t afford to screw up, now that the goal is to become a veritable institution in a currently tiny pool of contemporary art and museum professionals.
The new goal is to be close enough to infallible (at least as far as curators go), such that I can inflate a bouncy castle or dig a ballpit in the middle of the Met and have no one even raise an eyebrow. I mean, it’s not like we don’t have to raise our own funding.
When I was in high school, I had a very short bucket list and, looking back at least, very low expectations of myself. The only thing I wanted was to see my by-line in print, which I got shortly before I turned 21. It was glorious, but at the same time it screwed up the bar I set for myself. I literally did not know what else to do and just did whatever came my way–which I guess is how you end up with half a BFA in Theater Arts and a full BS in Clothing Technology (haha, full BS!) followed by an MA in Museum Studies. And yeah, that’s almost done!
I don’t even know which black hole to crawl into next, but whatever it is, I’m greeting it with open arms and my Kitties with Titties logo designed by my dear friend, Jizzray, to commemorate the (future) launching of my first single. It’s called “I’m Going to Spain with my No Kids Money” from the album, No Kids Money. Dropping soon at a Sam Goody or Astrovision near you.
I really just want to spell my name with a dollar sign before I turn 30, okay?