Out of Rhythm

Every small town has its flavor, points of interest, rhythm of life. Even a corner gas station, linked to a major national chain, evinces this fact. Whether it's the two-for-three dollars sale on two-liter cokes, the individually plastic-wrapped chocolate bars on discount at the counter, or the few endlessly hamster-wheeling hot dogs at the grill station, they all keep pace with some inaudible metronome. 

Two sisters in the ladies' room follow suit: wearing bright-colored shirts, high-waisted shorts, and straight hair in rumpled ponytails, drawling in accents with a surplus of "a" "o" and "w" sounds, they demonstrate the resourcefulness of an older sister who can instruct her junior in a calm tone martyred by repetition to crawl under the locked bathroom door (watch, I'll show you), remind her that she's NOT too big to fit beneath (scrunch up your knees), and then demand that she wash her hands WITH SOAP (but only two pumps, silly).

They belong here, alongside the cashier with teased hair and bright pink lipstick who is giving out free smiles to a tattooed regular, in a way that I, with my peripatetic after-work ways, never could. And, what's more, they all know it. No wonder the elderly man standing in his carport across the street stares at me, arms crossed over his plaid shirt, as I slowly turn back onto the main road.

The winding country roads and their small-town synapses are full of memories and untold stories. None of them, however, answer the question most prominent on my mind: if not here, then where? If not this, now, then what? when?

After much hesitation, doubt, and over-thinking, I decided not to accept my one offer of admission to a PhD program. As I keep telling myself, "not now" does not mean "never." I know I made the right decision. But, having said that, I will admit I'm left feeling a little lost. A little weary. A lot uncertain. Making a decision without a backup plan is scary. Closing the one open door that stands between you and the future is frankly terrifying.

So please don't ask me what comes next. I know that's a logical question. Believe me, I've thought about it. I still don't have an answer. Respectfully, I suggest that you pose the question to Ask.com instead.

Or, if you must ask, please be prepared to join me when I light out for the territories. I'll bring the two-liter cokes.

Multiple Smiley Faces

I think -- I think this is exciting. Can I let myself get excited now? Is it okay?

I received an email acceptance to the University of Wisconsin-Madison yesterday afternoon, and I have to admit, the statements above simulate my initial response pretty well.

After months of waiting and trying to keep my expectations low in light of repeated disappointments, I faced the good news without the ability to celebrate. Where the Jen whom I imagined might have danced around the house in giddy exuberance, the real Jen stared at the computer screen and started calculating pros and cons, all the while trying to muster an appropriate level of enthusiasm with which to share the news.

(Based on my repeated failure to hone a believable poker face, I doubt it was very convincing.)

It was in this moment when I remembered the downside of being a reserved, careful person, someone who is terrified of being hurt or vulnerable, who attempts to monitor and regulate all expressions of emotion. Not only emotions perceived as negative -- anger, fear, sadness -- but also positive emotions like happiness, excitement, and delight are difficult to express freely. I can just about number and name the instances when I've felt and expressed strong emotion of either type in the last few years.

However, there are also moments that fall outside the grid. The pure, spontaneous, unadulterated joy of dancing at high speed, running barefoot in the grass, or watching the stars emerge at night while singing at the top of my lungs: these things push back against a sense of control or reserve. In those moments, it is difficult to keep away the kind of smile that might be called more accurately a silly grin. If only I could channel that feeling of freedom into the opportunities and milestones that punctuate my daily life.

But maybe it is not impossible. By the end of the day yesterday, I was able to borrow some genuine enthusiasm from the people around me. Their excitement gave me permission to feel the same way. I could set aside, for a little while, the weight of the decision I now have to make. I could celebrate an accomplishment without tracking out its long-term implications. It felt pretty good.

Sometimes, holding emotions in reserve serves me well; sometimes, not at all. The trick, I guess, is learning how to distinguish between the two.

It's Not Over 'Til It's Over

...but it's getting pretty close to over.

Just a few more weeks to go.

The Story of Mankind

Only in the twisted world that is graduate school applications does the potential to receive a rejection letter constitute cause for wild celebration.

What a weird world it is.

Also a little frightening.

Over the weekend, I logged on to check the status of my remaining application. When I did, I discovered a secondary financial aid application that I had not completed prior to the December deadline. Instead of waiting to verify that I had in fact ruined my chances of admission, I panicked, choosing to believe the worst.

Receiving a rejection is one thing; sabotaging your own efforts by making a careless mistake is something else entirely. It would be the understatement of the year to say that I handled the "news" badly. In so many ways.

Today, I called to confirm the information, only to find that I was most likely mistaken. According to the individuals with whom I spoke, the financial aid application should not affect the admissions decision. Consequently, although I may receive a rejection letter in the mail today, it should not be the result of my absentmindedness (cover letter typo withstanding).

That knowledge should be tremendously freeing, and in part, it is.

At the same time, the situation forces me to look closely at the kind of person I become when I fail or am disappointed or make mistakes. (Having been privy for fifteen years to my own bad sportsmanship when I lose on the field, I should know already.) Yes, there is a lot at stake in this application process, so perhaps my frustration is understandable. These are my future plans, after all. Then again, is that really an excuse? If nothing else, I think this weekend has been something of a wake-up call about how much of my identity and sense of self-worth I attach to my career plans.

Appropriately, it was a work of literature that captured my feelings particularly well.

I'm currently reading Steinbeck's East of Eden. Somehow I missed it in high school, but I think I'm glad of that fact. I can appreciate its six hundred pages so much more now. Today, I read an exchange about humanity's obsession with two Bible stories: the Fall, and Cain and Abel. Attempting to explain this fascination, Lee says, "No story has power, nor will it last, unless we feel in ourselves that it is true and true of us. What a great burden of guilt men have! ... We gather our arms full of guilt as though it were precious stuff. It must be that we want it that way."

He goes on, "The greatest terror a child can have is that he is not loved, and rejection is the hell he fears. I think everyone in the world to a large or small extent has felt rejection. And with rejection comes anger, and with anger some kind of crime in revenge for the rejection, and with the crime guilt--and there is the story of mankind."

Ah, yep. Mine too.

To be fair, I haven't finished the book yet, and I suspect, knowing Steinbeck, that it will get even more complicated. Likewise, I know myself well enough to be aware that this momentary epiphany will not "fix" my insecurities in the least.

Having said that, in this particular moment, I am taking some measure of comfort from Lee's subsequent statement: "It isn't simple at all ... It's desperately complicated. But at the end there's light."

Waiting and Winded

The grad school application process is winding down. April 15th is barely a month away, but I'm still waiting and trying to figure out how to proceed wisely.

Tonight, I have to take a step back and admit that I'm feeling overwhelmed. I don't really know what comes next. I'm not even sure what I hope will come next. But there you have it: the waiting game. The punchline of a joke that I would make if I were a little less tired. C'est la vie.

Maybe tomorrow.

In Retrospect

Reason #4731 not to re-read the personal statement that you submitted to a school at which you have been rejected: discovering a typo in the final sentence.

Good job, self.

I could be the first subject for a slightly-misleading-as-to-its-actual-purpose-but-catchy series of video advertisements with the following slogan:

...should have gone to the Writing Center...

I'm picturing a spinoff of this delightful British campaign for Specsavers:

It would be a huge hit, trust me. And, even better, my fee is no higher than a Ph.D. application fee! (My agent will be standing by to take your calls.)

Like Petey in Remember the Titans

Okay, grad schools. Let's have a 50%-off chocolate heart to heart.

I am deeply appreciative of your consideration in not "breaking up with me" over Valentine's Day.

That being said, the stores are now making way for Cadbury Eggs.

Any day now would be fine.

Email is great.

Snail mail is fine.

I would even take a phone call.

You can tell me.

I can handle it.

I just gotta know.

Yet and Now

By virtue of a rare Saturday off, I have time to be in a pensive mood today.

Fridays are turning into rejection-letter days, and the second rejection letter of the season felt worse than I thought it would. In both cases, the schools said my application was very strong and they were sorry not to offer me admission.

Rather than feeling excited that I almost made the cut (again), proving that I am a competitive applicant this year, my brain immediately began to rant, "You're just not quite good enough. In a close contest, you don't have the 'spark' that sets others apart. You're not unique. No matter how hard you try, it's never enough. You'll never be quite good enough."

Come on, brain. That's not helpful. Let's rewind.

The last time I went through this process, I wrote a post called "Hello, 'Yet.'" I re-read it today. At the time, I was applying to doctoral programs with only a bachelor's degree. Looking back, I know how vastly unprepared I was for that level of work, but in that moment the rejections stung. This is what I wrote:

I got another rejection letter - three just last week, to be precise, bringing my total number of acceptances into a PhD program to - you guessed it - zero. In my tongue-in-cheek-but-not-really response on this blog, I wrote "Jen is not PhD-program caliber." And then I paused.

Am I really not? As in ever? Boy, that's depressing.

Well obviously I'm not, because they rejected me.

Um, I think there's a flaw in the logic here somewhere.

Absurd.

No, really.

Don't be silly.

No, really.

Tired of arguing with myself, which is just a little weird, I capitulated and typed "at this point," because "at this point" leaves more room for self-pity than "yet." Not quite sure why, but it does; trust me.

"Yet" is inherently optimistic. Maybe because it sounds a little like "yes." It also implies that the statement that is not presently true will/can someday be true.

That was three years ago.

Now, when I receive letters of regret from high-caliber schools like Northwestern and Vanderbilt (both of whom rejected me that year with no more than a 'Your admission status is now available'), I should be encouraged to be reminded of something I think I already know: Jen is PhD-program caliber now.

Even if I'm not accepted this year -- the odds of 7/450 or 1/64 or 1.562% are, after all, enormous -- I've come a long way toward my goal.

I guess you could say this is me attempting to practice cognitive restructuring, because in this moment my brain is much more cynical, and the emotional feeling of failure outweighs the logical interpretation I've just posited. Psychology. Gotta love it.

I think that's why tea, chocolate, whiny text messages, and Saturdays still exist. It's a good thing, too.

If This Keeps Up...

...I will have to re-title my blog: Perennially Penultimate Ponderings



(that still didn't make the final cut)

(or even the wait list [who knew they had a wait list once removed?])

(but will have no final closure until April 15th)


Womp, womp.

PSA: A Truth Universally Acknowledged

Contact: Jen, Public Liaison
Phone: 704-255-1887
Night line: 828-859-2905

Begin Jan. 1
End April 15

A TRUTH UNIVERSALLY ACKNOWLEDGED

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a graduate applicant in the period of waiting must NOT be in need of extraneous emails from the admissions department of graduate schools to which she has applied.

Unless the email contains or links to an admissions decision, admissions representatives are encouraged to think carefully before clicking "send."

According to recent research, 95 percent of applicants have already determined from GradCafe, Facebook, and school websites (which they have memorized) that the school will be making its decision within the next month. This information, while important, does not need to be repeated via email.

If, however, you must communicate with applicants, please observe one simple rule. Begin the title of all emails with the following phrase, in capital letters:

• DOES NOT CONTAIN DECISION

Acceptable substitute phrases include:

• NO DECISION YET
• NOT A DECISION
• THIS IS NOT A REJECTION
• THIS IS NOT AN ACCEPTANCE
  
• and if all else fails, DO NOT PANIC

The mental health of the graduate student and prospective graduate student community, already tenuous at best, depends on your cooperation.

For more information, please contact the public liaison for the Graduate Student Support Group at 704-255-1887. Thank you.

-end-

Waiting Redux

If my life were a film, this scene would be shot in slow motion, with a sudden silence in the soundtrack.

::opens email inbox::

Title:

Northwestern University Application Decision Available

::gut drops::

::pauses::

Oh wait. That's the one I already received.

Sheesh.

The waiting continues.

Predictable

Serves me right for writing that last post.

Rejection #1 of 2012.



Yay.

Not.

The Ultimate Alternative Career

As the impatience to hear the outcome of my graduate applications builds, I'm happy to announce that I have discovered the perfect alternative career should my academic aspirations fail to materialize.

How, you may ask, did I achieve this gargantuan feat?

I began by cataloging my demonstrable skills and passions:

• Researching obscure and esoteric facts.
• Correcting others' errors.
• Assisting with organization and planning.
  
• Debating unimportant details and rules.
• Taking instructions.
• Remembering details about people, past conversations, and hypothetical plans.
• Reading aloud.
• Being introverted, and just listening until directly addressed.
• Acting as a sounding board for others' ideas.
• Figuring out what people want/need to hear in a given situation.
• Misinterpreting nonverbal cues.
• Providing snarky retorts to non sequitur comments.
• Falling down at inopportune moments.

Before long, the only possible conclusion became clear.

I'm sure you know what I mean.

It's obvious, right?

If I don't get into grad school, there is only one thing left to do.

...

...

...

...

I shall become Siri.

Proof Is in the Music

I absolutely, positively have not started thinking about my applications. I mean it.

So maybe I lied.

Return of SMIOS

Being January, it seemed about time for a re-post: The Phases of Anticipation; or, How to Avoid Snowman SMIOS. So far, I'm right on schedule.

(Please ignore the flagrant typo in the title of the original post.)

And the Waiting Begins

PhD Applications Status - round 3

• Submitted: 8
  
• To go: 0
  

Th-th-th-th-that's all, folks.

For better or worse, barring all unforeseen complications, the waiting has begun...

Submit, Application

PhD Applications Status - round 3

• Submitted: 7
  
• To go: 1
  

So close.

SUBMIT application!

PhD Applications Status - round 3

• Submitted: 6
  
• To go: 2
  

Just. want. to. be. done.

Submit Application!!

PhD Applications Status - round 3

• Submitted: 5
  
• To go: 3
  

Pluhemifractionally there!

Goal: all applications in before Christmas. Looking relatively doable at this point.

Submit Application!

PhD Applications Status - round 3

• Submitted: 4
  
• To go: 4
  

Halfway there!