A Chronicle of my Changing Times.

Quick update since it's been about a week since I've last posted and then a story... Been busy with volunteering, work and school. I crashed this past weekend and completely missed out on a phenomenal weekend. I must've slept close to half the weekend. It was much needed. Working the Room in the Inn on Thursday completely wiped me out. I also became so preoccupied with getting through the last week and a half I felt like I lost a bit of focus on my long range goals. I'm working my tail off to get back on track (ie, spend less money, focus on work, finishing up the PC app - my albatross - and doing well in class). Good news is that I've revamped one essay and am over two paragraphs into the second one (taking a break from it now). I've also started working out in the morning. MUST GET IN SHAPE.

I unfortunately picked up smoking this past week as well. My demon is back. I actually bought a pack, and then a second one. My goal is to nip it in the bud right now and be done when the last 5-6 are gone. Smoking does not fit into my plans.

I also got film developed from my trip out west and need to set up a Ofoto acct so I can post some here. Apparently pics have to be from a linked site. So I'm working on that. And finally - not so much of a status report:

I woke up and had an absolutely horrible morning. It all started off when I realized half way to work that I'd forgotten to set up someone to switch shifts with me so I could attend class tonight. A big ol' "D'oh" but not that major... Since I've begun to work out in the morning I knew I had plenty of time to shower early and get up to make the necessary arrangements. So I get to work and grab my workout bag out of my backseat only to realize that my dress shirt for work was still hanging on my closet door. And home is an hour each way. It was only fated to get much worse. I call my father to see if he can grab it and bring it to me at work. I get the answering machine. Again. And again. I can't get reception in my building so I'm standing outside calling. Of course I've got nothing to do but call and call so I start smoking. A lot. 20 minutes pass and I decide to break down and grab a bite to eat to kill time. Grab a Twenty out of the ATM and grab a couple of donuts or three and some Orange Juice to drink. As I'm outside calling over and over still I realize that instead of running on a treadmill I'm sitting on my fat arse eating donuts and smoking a cigarette. Finally I realize I need to go take a shower if I'm going to get up to work in time to find somebody (hopefully) to switch shifts. So I toss my donut wrappers and grab my OJ and head inside - letting my voice messages to the fates...

As I scan in, I pass the rather annoying older man, Jim, (who could totally kick my arse - he leads the cycling class 5 times a week) comment to me "It's great to see you finally back in here, Mike. I know treadmills are call your name." I grumble a "Hi" and head to the locker rooms to shower. Now I don't have a lock for the locker I use so I always try to hide my more valuable items like my watch and cell phone. So I bury my watch in a shoe and my cell phone in the bottom of my bag as I head into the showers. I come out and am doing the quick drop the towel as I grab my underwear out of my bag when I realize I'd put my OJ in the bag. And it'd tipped over. And spilled. Everywhere. By some divine grace my underwear, socks and t-shirt were spared. But almost all my other clothes were marinating in that sweet orange nectar of life. And as I pulled them out I saw my cell phone, buried beneath my clothes, submerged. Yes, submerged. And then it rang. Really - it did. By some miracle not only was the phone still working, but I was suddenly getting reception in the bowels of my building. Dad was on his way with a shirt. So I cleaned up as best as I could using 3 towels (which theoretically would have more than soaked up the contents of the bottle in any normal world). I got dressed, putting on my t-shirt (which of course was full of holes), zipped up my windbreaker and headed upstairs. Of course Jim had a comment for me on how good it was of me to try working out again. I didn't even bother to point out I'd been in the gym for less than 20 min - and had only walked to the locker room and back.

I asked the first person I saw if they'd switch. It happened to be the guy I normally switch with. Of course he's made plans with his wife since I hadn't asked before and can't work it. I mention this to my supervisor, who sorta chides me whilst chuckling at the same time. I don't think he quite gets why I'm taking classes - but then I haven't told him either. I was down to one person who luckily was able to come through for me - but not without a fair amount of arse kissing. So I sit down at 8:29 to sign in and begin work. My coworker who graciously switched with me comes down with a big smile on her face she was unsuccessfully trying to surpress. "You won't believe this. You have to come in early to work for me tomorrow." Apparently my supervisor thought I need to do a bit of penance for my scheduling flub and I'm to work 30 minutes for her on Wednesday. I muttered a curse, laughed a bit at the absurdity that had been my morning, and turned to my computer in time to see the clock change to 8:30.

And so my day began....

Posted by: mjmarble at March 30, 2004 22:32 | link | comments

I know it's not politically correct, but why hasn't anyone noticed the Israeli's killed Saurman over the weekend?

Posted by: mjmarble at March 24, 2004 10:41 | link | comments

I sit here beyond exhaustion wanting to just go to bed, yet somehow I end up at this very spot.  You know that spot.  It's the one where bed is the only comfort and respite possible yet for some unexplainable reason it's the last place you actually end up.  So I sit here writing this and thinking back on my previous 4 days of accomplishments regreting I didn't take more time to work on PC apps (yes I have the Egad! moment and yet I still don't write the damnable thing) or write this in this blog like I wanted to (I have a backlog of about 3-4 topics I want to talk about).  On the good side, studied and think I did well on my most recent test for Macro, cleaned, laundered and worked my but off at work (getting there early and all).  I think I'm going to give up the good fight and just go to bed...  Maybe tomorrow for a meaningful post....

Posted by: mjmarble at March 16, 2004 22:25 | link | comments

Egads!  I do believe I finally have it. 

I have procrastinated, worried and generally stared at my Peace Corp application for well over a month now.  95% of it is at least partically filled out in my slanted slopply half-cursive scribble I use when I know no one else will be reading.  I mean, how hard is it to list out volunteer activies.  It's a bit of a pain, but I really haven't had that many jobs in the last 10 years that I'd avoid the whole damn thing.  But the last section has simply caused me endless fits.  The dreaded essays. 

I finally broke through about a week ago and wrote one of them.  The motivational statement.  To some this might be difficult, but in reality it's something I've been talking over with people again and again (I'm sure James mouths the words whenever I recite them to him yet again for the 8,956th time).  It needs much polishing and work still, but I'm already on a good second draft.

It was the other essay that'd given me the true problem.  It asks for an example of how I've adapted to a cross-cultural event or circumstance.  Except I couldn't think of one single cross cultural experience.  Not that has required my adaptation at least.  I was sent to Honduras, but that was with a group where our hands were held on a daily basis.  I traveled to Europe, but how far can you stretch learning how to say "Do you speak English" in French?  I tutor spanish speaking students English, but helping them pronounce and say words doesn't seem "cross-cultural" to me.  None were an essay waiting to happen.

I did learn the fine art of Bullshit writing in college, maybe I did it too frequently.  But this gives me the understanding of what I can and what I should BS.  Something tells me that my heart wouldn't be in BSing this, and I probably shouldn't BS it anyways.  Thus my kunundrum.

Until tonight, that is.  I was talking it over with my mom.  She began on a tanget - as she's wont to do (and I wonder where I get it from) - and began talking about how she and my father had made sure to give me plenty of "cross-cultural" experiences growing up.  I won't bore you all with the litney she came up with, but it was long and very non-event specific.  Somehow this lead to her talking about how I am, and how I put up a "Bravado" and do not always appear to be respectful or sensitive to other peoples.  Don't ask me how she got there or how that was meant to be supportive, but she was there.  And becuase she went there I immediately thought of someplace I was put in a different culture and was respectful and sensitive. 

I volunteer at least once a year with my church at something called "Room in the Inn" where the church is opened once a week during winter to the homeless for a meal and a warm place to stay at night (think of a rotation of a number of churches).  I've always stayed overnight and this has given me ample time to sit and talk with those we're helping.  I find myself quiet and open to hearing about those things I know virtually nothing about.  People's life stories, their views & outlook on the world, their hopes and dreams.  Instead of the confident me, I adapt myself to fit what is needed for these people in many ways.  Now, I need to write it, but I firmly believe the hard part's over.  

So, now to work....

Posted by: mjmarble at March 08, 2004 23:53 | link | comments (1)

A miracle occurred today. Well, OK - first off I believe miracles happen everyday. Second, this really wasn't a miracle so much as a grand unexpected fortuitous event. My Micro class was held this morning (as rare as that is, not the miracle) and our most recent tests were returned to us. As Dr. Goode prepared to hand them back he made mention that this was a particularly hard test. He cited it being worded in difficult ways. In my mind, this brought the question, "Wait, he doesn't write his own tests???" forward immediately. It was quickly followed by a more personal statement. "That C I thought I had probably isn't going to be a C." And little did I know how right I was. As he called out my name and handed my test to me he, made the only comment I heard him make to a student. "Nice job." I'm pretty sure now that means I got the highest grade. Yes folks, I got an "A". No shit.

And whilst this gives me great comfort (seeing I'm getting A's in both of my classes now) I must admit that I feel more than a bit guilty. It's fairly clear that I'm doing well in my classes, but I don't feel like I am. Maybe I'm holding myself up to a higher standard. I'm taking both of these courses keeping in mind that I will have to use them in any graduate studies I may attempt. So to simply do well in a class is not enough. I feel the need to gain some sort of working mastry of them - something I definately do not have as of yet.

I think it's a maturity thing. I sit with an annoyingly pink copy of my Wittenberg transcripts by my side. Looking through them closely I've noticed I was by far a B student throughout my entire academic career there. Toss in a couple A's and a pair of C's and two D's and you have my post secondary academic career. I did it with minimal effort, and that I do regret. I want to go back to the college me and just smack myself. At least make college me realize that I should be getting A's in my major.

All this gives me some peace of mind that graduate school is not necessarily the impossibility that I sometimes think it is. As for today, I'll accept little miracles and keep working on gaining applicable working knowledge.

Posted by: mjmarble at March 07, 2004 00:03 | link | comments

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