Summer Summer Summertime

Pizza Party! I’m on summer vacation.

This does mean I immediately get started on my immense summer work list but still, I get to do it on my own time and in sweatpants! Did I tell you how my class asked me “what do professors DO all summer” and I told them my summer plans and they were so appalled, they were literally speechless, there was this awkward silence and then this girl goes “…that SUCKS!” Ha ha ha ha. I was so wounded. I was like “I’m really excited to finalize my book proposal!”

Total #PushinForty moment. They are all going on kayaking trips.

I am very sad to be leaving my job and my hometown. One of my students surprised me on the last day of class with a big photograph of myself teaching, which she’d taken earlier in the semester for a photography assignment. Behind me on the board are all our class notes on Stairway to Heaven (“nostalgic…DRUIDS” and “nerds/Tolkien” e.g.). Another student cried when I said I was moving away forever. I almost cried too! They all hugged me on their way out of the final. I LOVE THEM. Will I love my next students so much? It is hard to imagine. Maybe part of my job is finding that love for my students no matter who they are/where they’re at. I mean, obviously that’s part of my job.

How do you keep your relationships alive when you move 4,000 miles away? Life intervenes. It is sad to be cleaved from the bosom of my chosen family here in Portland. It is so sad to think of going years without seeing Katy or Steve or any of these other dorks. It makes me so sad and so scared. I will admit it, I’m not embarrassed. There are a lot of tears in my near future. Moving to California was different. California is RIGHT THERE. And everyone is always coming through on various tours and trips. Nobody’s lugging their ass to rural Massachusetts, don’t kid yourself. I am wondering how you make enough time for all the things you need to do. Two sets of parents plus friends you need to see. The idea of going more than a year without seeing any of them is crazy to me and yet that’s obviously what happens. Not getting to play in my band anymore. Katy is the only reason I have maintained even the tiniest creative musical life.

Anyway, it’s also very sad to imagine never getting a job and just staying in our rat-infested hell-hole and never having any money or institutional support. I’m so excited to have a real job. I’m so excited to be an Assistant Professor! A dream I developed OVER TEN YEARS AGO has literally come true, right now, at this moment. So much will be different when I have this new platform, this new support for my professional development. I’m so proud of all the self-education I did these past 3 years to become an actual viable job candidate. I’m excited for this new adventure. I’m excited to have grad students. I’m excited to get my own hotel room at conferences–in grad school we all agreed that that’s when you know you’ve made it.

Is everything in life this bittersweet? The bitter so bitter; the sweet so sweet. I wonder what it feels like when you’re pregnant. Is it the same? Are you so incredibly thrilled to have your baby but are you also just devastated by the entirety of the life you’re giving up?

Yesterday I accidentally led my mom to believe that the only reason we aren’t having a baby is because we need to save money to take care of her and my dad when they are old. OOPS. What a horrible thing to believe–and once she believes something there’s no talking her out of it. And it’s hard to explain to your own mother that having a baby just seems like a slog and you just aren’t interested in it and it doesn’t seem fun. Insulting words to this person sitting across from you who has sacrificed her own life to make yours better! And now you’re telling her it seems boring. You can’t do that, so instead you talk about money and late capitalism and the death of the middle class and now she thinks you’re tragically refusing to procreate because of financial concerns.

I talked to my grandmother on the phone yesterday. She had no idea who I was, but she said I “sound cute.” She said “I’m just at sea…I guess I should have paid more attention.” She was summing up her whole life. She was very worried that she hadn’t done anything nice for me. Even though she didn’t remember who I was, she wanted to know if she’d ever given me anything nice or helped me. I said yes, in fact, you paid for almost my entire education, among other things. But it didn’t make her feel any better. It’s so fucked up that losing your mind has to be so disturbing–why can’t she just peacefully chill out in her weird psychedelic constant present? Instead she is always upset because she knows she’s confused but she can’t grab ahold of what that confusion is based on or what to do about it.

So yeah, gather your lilies while you may or whatever! Move to Massachusetts with your dog and your bearded old man.

My old man isn’t on summer vacation for another month. He’s basically not going to have a summer vacation, because we’re immediately going to move and then he has to go to Iowa for 2 weeks, poor dear.

The to-do list grows and grows. It has so many different categories! From “Find a house to live in” to “ask vet about heartworm pills.” From “write two syllabuses” to “find marriage certificate” to “research French tutors.” Here is a fun example of the culture shock in store for me as I move from a tiny private institution to a massive public institution: the secretary of my new department sent me an orientation email with a bunch of stuff I need to do in preparation for employment, etc. One of the things was to get a parking permit for the lot near the music building. Oh yeah, I need to get on that! These big schools have intense parking issues–I remember from grad school what a nightmare it was and I ended up just taking the bus instead of dealing with it. So I call the number she gives me for the Parking Office, and I say I want to get a permit for Lot 32. The lady says Lot 32 is already full and there’s a waiting list. She asks me if I’ve already gotten my first paycheck and I say no, and she says I can’t even get on the waiting list until I’ve gotten my first paycheck. I ask her how long the waiting list is and she says “Four years” like NBD.

FOUR YEARS

I will be forty one years old by the time I can park on campus. What a great day that will be!!!! Can u imagine?!?!!?!???

So instead I’m trying to get parking at this baptist church near campus. Think of it! If you owned real estate near one of these enormous schools you could make a pretty penny. Like Homer Simpson in his yard, charging by the axle. That’s a fairly deep pull, anybody get that reference? I forget what else is even in that episode.

On the agenda for today is to read this book about Postmodernism, print some stuff out at the library, and go to the symphony tonight with my buddy. Tomorrow there is a vet appointment (heartworm pills!) and working on a project with a buddy. Wednesday I am looking at furniture with my mom and then getting an MRI on this leg injury that I assume will be inconclusive like every time I go to the doctor for any fucking reason. Seriously, whenever I go to the doctor the answer is always “you’re on your own, kid.” I guess it’s preferable to “you have cancer” but it’s still pretty frustrating.

Here’s a question: Lets say I were asked to write a short essay about some aspect of music history, is there anything you remember me talking about that you liked and would suggest as a topic??? Besides Hildegard? Can be ANYTHING. If anything pops to mind, let me know!! I’m brainstorming.

Here’s a fun tip: yesterday I made RHUBARB PANCAKES. I don’t know why this isn’t a thing (or is it?). It was amazing. Soak the rhubarb in a shit-ton of sugar, then stick it on top of the pancakes once they’ve been cooking for awhile on one side. Boom, you’re welcome.

Here’s a question: anybody have recommendations for working on French language acquisition all by yourself, i.e. with no classes or tutors? I know you can’t achieve fluency but I want to just clear the cobwebs out a little bit and staring at my flashcards is only getting me so far. I read in French pretty regularly but I want to listen/speak more. Or even just listen, for example lets say you were about to drive to Massachusetts and would love to listen to some basic accessible French language stuff on the drive. Anybody have any good basic French podcast recommendations or like children’s audiobooks in French? I’ve been trying to find some and have been shockingly unsuccessful, and I don’t know if it’s because the French are so bad at the internet or because I am.

I am simultaneously reading a book about Postmodernism that is critical of it, and a book that is one of the quintessential examples of Postmodernist philosophy. It is a very Postmodernist thing to be doing and it is breaking my brain into a thousand disparate pieces, also very Postmodernist. I feel like the defining gesture of Postmodernism is the shrug. Just like, what are you gonna do