Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Academia. Scholar. This is how I want to be described.

This past weekend Kevin and I, with our lack of friends, things to do, and most importantly, money, decided to dream shop at Ikea in Covina. It was really fun since I desperatly want to decorate our house and make it yummy and cozy. I got some great ideas and I can't wait to make it happen. I think I'm going to go with a modernized, more ecclectic French country.

Needless to say, the day started off rocky. As anyone probably knows, I've been suffering from depression for the past year or so. Just when I think I have it under control I get wacked over the head with an uber-emotional breakdown that leaves me feeling hopeless and drained, both physically and mentally. Kevin and I are both relatively passive peeps. Neither of us takes risks and neither of us are decision makers when it comes to said risks. So anyway, Saturday morning, and lingering into the afternoon, saw Kevin and I sitting in our tiny house, contemplatin what to do for the day that was basically free and yet would keep both of us busy. Neither of us has any real friends-either because we are too picky or possibly because we both take a while to warm up to people and most people don't stick around long enough for a friendship to develop- but I have a sinking suspicion that it is a combination of both.

So we decided to go the urban-cheap-mass marketed furniture mecca. On the way home, we decided to stop at the Starbucks on Foothill BLVD near Claremont Graduate University.

Because of my lack of skill as a writer, I can't even begin to describe the feelings that wash over me as we park at the Starbucks. The weather is cool but overcast-my perfect weather. The greens of the plants stand out against the red of the brick. A water fountain is bubbling away creating an almost instantaneous calming affect upon arrival.

Once inside the coffee house, the music playing makes me want to plop down and stay awhile. A mild Swing played just low enough to not raise the blood pressure.
Sight. Sound. Smell. Soon taste. Feel.

All of my senses engaged. What do I see? People loitering about with various books spread on laps and tables alike. "The Illustrated Guide to the Bible". My over-active imagination instantly creating a fantasy of who this person is. She is asian and possibly around 25 years old or so. I can't tell about her friend since her back is to me. Perhaps she is a student at the School of Religion? My pulse races with the thought.

Perpindicular to the two asian girls are what appear to be a couple. The man has dark brown hair cut short, messy. He is wearing eyes glasses reminisent of Buddy Holly as is the thrift store cardigan draped across his lanky body. His feet catch my eye as I notice that he is confidently wearing flip flops. For some reason I find this incredibly neat. He has one ankle laying casually on the opposite knee as he reads through a text that I can't identify since he is holding the cover pulled back. In his left hand he holds a yellow highlighter.

A yellow highlighter is one of the most beloved objects I believe. Who doesn't love a yellow highlighter and all that it is capable of and all that it signifies?

I have spent too much time checking out the intellectual grunge-era inspired man that too late, I realize I am at the counter and must order my coffee and I can't check the woman out. I order Kevin and I our very non-Seattle sweet drinks and then I turn to check out the rest of the cafe.

I know that I belong in this world. I don't want to be a snob about it. I don't want to be an Elitist. I just know that I belong in the world of academia. Is some of it fantasy? Of course. But what good is existance without some fantasy.

I am not saying that I must go to Claremont Graduate University. Lord (and I'am an Atheist mind you) knows that I do not have the undergraduate GPA nor the funds for such a pretsigious school. I once fancied the idea of going to the School of Religion and studying the History of Christianity with such greats as Karen Jo Torjenson and Kristin De Troyer. But the dream I have of immersing myself in academia does not mean I have to go to the best school. I just want to go to A school. I want my masters degree, and quite frankly, I then want to get my doctorate. I mean, you only, as far as we know, live once. So why not do the things that you believe will make you satsfied with your existance?

Leaving Claremont I had heavy thoughts. Life is not always easy. It would be so nice if someone could say to me, "Stacy, do this, this, that, this, and that and you will get into graduate school." But it doesn't work that way. And for some reason, I have allowed 5 years to go by and my dream is unfulfilled. I don't have to get it tomorrow, I just want to know that I'm working on it. I want to know that I am working towards a goal that I am proud of.

It would be wonderful to meet like-minded people. Not that I want to meet peopel who ONLY study history or religious studies, but people who are/were/plan on going on to graduate school and who have just as much interest in academic pursuits. Connections are important and I think I am realizing how much I miss having those contacts. Not for personal gain, but to have a connection to someone  who understands that journey.

So what to do now? I must, must, must study for the GRE. I have taken in already- in December of 2005. I did not get the greatest of scores though so I need to retake it. I must study for that. Keep working on the French. And as soon as possible take an upper division course at CSUF or somewhere similar.

Academia. Scholar. This is what I want to do.


( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
Feb. 23rd, 2009 09:32 am (UTC)
You will Stacy. I KNOW you will. YOU know you will, and all you need to do is get your foot in the door. Start right now, today. Email a counselor from CSUF. Why not? Tell her your situation and see what she has to say. If she doesn't give you any good advice, oh well. It doesn't hurt to try.

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )