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Yeah. So. I am officially going to Carnegie Mellon in the fall, which makes me so happy and excited and nervous and yeah, because the research is cool, and the professors seem really motivated and interesting and full of good ideas (again, see how excited I am about the research), and I liked the students I met, and I liked the city (I like the city, I'm from there, it screams home to me every time I go back there, and with the way the past couple of years have gone, i'm looking forward to that . . . and then you have the down side, that I thought I could deal with.
My mother.
Yes. She still lives in Pittsburgh with Daddy and my brother. Good times. So we talked and talked and talked about how I'd be living at home this summer (and working at CMU by the way, still excited about that, too), and we'd see how I handled the commute and how I handled living at home with them, instead of by myself and stuff, and I'd think about staying at home for my first year (saving money, mom and dad are all like, 'you don't have to pay rent, or buy groceries, or pay the bills, or even wash your own laundry while you're home', because wow do they want me around . . . it's kind of weird).
But now she keeps calling and asking 'how long do you think you'll stay', and 'do you think you'll be able to stand living with us?' and blah blah blah blah guilt trip about maybe not living at home anymore. And I'm thinking, wow, I really made a mistake, because she's never gonna let this go . . . but I love the school, and the city, and the thought of not having to take a week or two off of work to be home for Christmas sounds heavenly . . . and I miss them, and I don't want to run away from them as fast and as hard as I can, but I think I have to.
Part of me thinks I should have gone to Cornell, but that had its own set of downsides, not least being Ithaca, which is a lot like Lancaster, which is a type of community that I am, by and large, not fond of. Also, Cornell is big and scary, and every faculty member I spoke to looked dubious at my answers about where my interests lie. Because, Christ on a beknighted freaking crutch, I have no idea what area of chemistry I'm particularly interested in. I like the physical organic stuff i'm doing, I liked the biochemistry I did, I'm interested in learning more about polymer chemistry (which I will be doing this summer), inorganic has some interesting potential (particularly in nanotech and designing catalysts), and . . . and . . . geez, there's so much stuff out there I could be interested in anything.
Most professors, apparently, want you to gush about their particular research, and describe, in detail, how much your work is like their work. I can't do that. So, people at Cornell were trying to sell the school, but I didn't see anyone (or anyone's work, or any combination of the two) that screamed, "Hey, freak chick, you want to work for this guy, yes?" So I decided not to go there. It's like, i could make myself fit, but I'm tired of doing that. I've only recently learned that I don't have to, that people actually like hanging out with me when I'm not trying ( I mean that in both senses of the word). And I've wanted to cry all day, because I saw this coming, and I walked into it with both eyes open, I just wish it didn't have to be so hard.
I'm not good at choices; I make them because I have to, not because I want to. And that's not a way to live, really.
In closing, here's a poem that I love so much. So very very much . . . it's the kind of day I've been having.
Promise
I will turn on nothing.
I will take my walk in the fire.
I will sing the song I hear
coming from the fire where I walk.
I will not look into the fire.
I will stay in my room,
singing a song I can barely remember.
I will turn into the fire.
I will sing a song I can barely remember.
I will bury my room in my bed
and carry my bed into the fire.
I will not hear the song at all.
There will be my voice,
just my voice,
and words that could never have been
in the song.
--Joe Wenderoth
My mother.
Yes. She still lives in Pittsburgh with Daddy and my brother. Good times. So we talked and talked and talked about how I'd be living at home this summer (and working at CMU by the way, still excited about that, too), and we'd see how I handled the commute and how I handled living at home with them, instead of by myself and stuff, and I'd think about staying at home for my first year (saving money, mom and dad are all like, 'you don't have to pay rent, or buy groceries, or pay the bills, or even wash your own laundry while you're home', because wow do they want me around . . . it's kind of weird).
But now she keeps calling and asking 'how long do you think you'll stay', and 'do you think you'll be able to stand living with us?' and blah blah blah blah guilt trip about maybe not living at home anymore. And I'm thinking, wow, I really made a mistake, because she's never gonna let this go . . . but I love the school, and the city, and the thought of not having to take a week or two off of work to be home for Christmas sounds heavenly . . . and I miss them, and I don't want to run away from them as fast and as hard as I can, but I think I have to.
Part of me thinks I should have gone to Cornell, but that had its own set of downsides, not least being Ithaca, which is a lot like Lancaster, which is a type of community that I am, by and large, not fond of. Also, Cornell is big and scary, and every faculty member I spoke to looked dubious at my answers about where my interests lie. Because, Christ on a beknighted freaking crutch, I have no idea what area of chemistry I'm particularly interested in. I like the physical organic stuff i'm doing, I liked the biochemistry I did, I'm interested in learning more about polymer chemistry (which I will be doing this summer), inorganic has some interesting potential (particularly in nanotech and designing catalysts), and . . . and . . . geez, there's so much stuff out there I could be interested in anything.
Most professors, apparently, want you to gush about their particular research, and describe, in detail, how much your work is like their work. I can't do that. So, people at Cornell were trying to sell the school, but I didn't see anyone (or anyone's work, or any combination of the two) that screamed, "Hey, freak chick, you want to work for this guy, yes?" So I decided not to go there. It's like, i could make myself fit, but I'm tired of doing that. I've only recently learned that I don't have to, that people actually like hanging out with me when I'm not trying ( I mean that in both senses of the word). And I've wanted to cry all day, because I saw this coming, and I walked into it with both eyes open, I just wish it didn't have to be so hard.
I'm not good at choices; I make them because I have to, not because I want to. And that's not a way to live, really.
In closing, here's a poem that I love so much. So very very much . . . it's the kind of day I've been having.
Promise
I will turn on nothing.
I will take my walk in the fire.
I will sing the song I hear
coming from the fire where I walk.
I will not look into the fire.
I will stay in my room,
singing a song I can barely remember.
I will turn into the fire.
I will sing a song I can barely remember.
I will bury my room in my bed
and carry my bed into the fire.
I will not hear the song at all.
There will be my voice,
just my voice,
and words that could never have been
in the song.
--Joe Wenderoth