So when I decided to pursue my Master's degree --I'll get to the PhD someday-- many images ran through my head. Oh, how I dreamed of wearing corduroy and tweed, perhaps a smart blazer with elbow patches! I would live in a picturesque city with changing autumn leaves and ride my vintage bike -complete with book rack- from my effortless studio to my class on the Sociological Implications of Super Mario Brothers: A Study in Gender Roles of Princess Peach and Luigi.
Can't you just see it?
Fast forward to now, aka: my reality. I live in a blazing hot town that holds candlelight vigils for the near-death of our infamous transvestite. I rush to class in my dented Honda hatchback without even changing heels after my day at the office. I write this sitting on a metal step-stool, with a folded up towel as a chair pad, as I struggle in the mires of finishing a research paper before tomorrow's noon deadline. Did I mention this all takes place in my unfinished house? The one with no furniture, save the mattress on the floor? And with walls that are only 80% painted?
I'll bet you can see it now!
Why take up blogging again? Because in the midst of my entirely over extended and over committed life I thought, why the hell not? I mean, devoting my time to one more activity can't possibly be any worse than say, being chained to a cinder block and thrown to the bottom of the ocean, where I'm not actually killed by ravenous sharks, but just maimed to within an inch of my life, then dragged along the ocean floor by a giant brain-sucking squid.
Right?
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