Contrary to my father’s belief, my twisted road through grad school hasn’t been entirely Ritalin and Merlot-fueled debates about Arthouse films I hadn’t seen, indie rock bands I tell people I saw several years ago but actually only recently downloaded, and ironic discussions of MTV reality shows. Sure, those things took up most of my time and energy, but there was also work. And education. And problems with my tuition checks. But before nostalgia completely creeps in and overwhelms me, and to honor the final time I get to ask someone where they are going for “Spring Break”, I will present a timeline of the highs and lows of my post-college grad school career, complete with occasional points of exclamation!
Late August 2003: Attend graduate school orientation at Boston University’s School of Communication with friend/roommate Matt Herman, who is also attending the grad school for Advertising. Sit with several people during the “get to know you” lunch that I never, ever talk to nor see again.
Oct 2003: Write story about male friendships for Literary Journalism class that Professor calls “Esquire-esque”.
Nov 2003: Realize that calling something “Esquire-esque” doesn’t necessarily translate into “publishable in Esquire”.
Jan 2004: Get into class that works on “long narrative and investigative projects”. Decide to write about being in middle school by spending 4 months at my own former middle school. Work is considered ” kind of creepy” by my (ex)girlfriend.
March 2004: Spring Break!!!!
May 2004: Our class gets to present our work at a pitch meeting at Boston Magazine. So nervous I sweat through two shirts. Talk mostly about middle school slang. Swear three times and make several uncomfortable jokes in an attempt to fill dead air. Am convinced I will be kicked out of grad school. Post pitch meeting, get drunk.
May 2004: Surprisingly, find out Boston Magazine wants to buy my piece.
“Not so creepy anymore am I”, I exclaim repeatedly to ex-girlfriend while she is at work.
“Are you drunk at 1 pm on a Tuesday?” she asks. Silence ensues.
Sep 2004: First published work comes out in Boston Magazine! Bring it into class! Other kids think I’m showing off/rubbing it in their faces! In hindsight, huge mistake!
Oct 2004: First negative letter written about said work is forwarded to me by editorial assistant!!!
Dec 2004: Graduate from BU! Get diploma sent to me, rather than attend graduation ceremony. Family thanks me. Tell them I want to get an MFA in creative writing in lieu of working. Family no longer appreciative.
February 2005: Find acceptance letter from Emerson in stack of papers my mom was throwing out. “Oh, whoops,” she says.
March 2005: Spring Break!!! And rejection letter from Columbia. Call father.
“Well, Ivy League schools are hard to get into.”
“No, dad. This is Columbia College. In Chicago.”
“You’re making that up.”
September 2005: Orientation at Emerson! Take terrible ID picture. Sit with several people during the “get to know you” lunch that I will never, ever talk to again. And a kid from Ohio with a beard that I grudgingly become friends with.
Oct 2005: Realize Lit classes are harder than Journalism classes.
Dec 2005: Get grades. Ask friend if a “B” is good in a grad school class. Receive a “Are you f-ing seriously asking me that?” followed by extended laughter. Reply “no” meekly.
Jan 2006: Take lighter workload, hoping it improves work ethic.
March 2006: Spring Break!!!
April 2006: Deem goal unreasonable and poorly thought out.
Sept 2006: Take Memoir writing class. Use material from first book. Don’t re-write. Sit back and wait for compliments.
Oct 2006: Chapters excoriated. Turns out, wasn’t all that good. Confidence, security and bladder control questioned.
Jan 2007: Take leave of absence for quarter life crisis style trip around Eastern Europe with the Big Cat. Eat a ton of kebabs.
March 2007: Spring Break!!!
April 2007: Come back refreshed, re-motivated and semi-addicted to whiskey. Also have beard. Writing has a new, sleek European feel.
June 2007: Lose European feel. And beard.
Sept 2007: Toy with graduating in the Winter, but decide against it for “sake of my book”.
Dec 2007: Get the “I feel like you’re never going to graduate and get a job, which is embarrassing considering you’re no longer on the sunny side of 25” speech from my father, hidden in a Christmas card!
Whew. Are blog entries even allowed to be this long? Don’t you feel like you just lived through the last half decade of my life? Anyway, I’m off to figure out how to dismantle Chapters 4-7 of my book and rewrite them so that they’re logical, well-written and don’t have several elaborate side plots about characters that no longer exist. You, friends, should try and stay out of the cold. Or if you live somewhere warm, where blizzards are merely names for elaborate ice cream treats from Dairy Queen… invite me over. I travel light, do dishes and only snore when I’m on my back. Think on it.