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hazelnut_cafeThrooooat.
Ribbit.
I got a letter in my mailbox today to the tune of "Hello, undeclared student! It's a good idea to declare your major and advisor by... the eighteenth if you want to graduate two years from now!" Which... is a bit overdue, rather. Oh well!
I've been having a bit of a quandry lately regarding the whole major business. I mean, I love and want to teach British Literature, so literary studies seems like a good idea, but then, I'm terrified of random strangers, so maybe teaching doesn't seem like a good idea. On the other hand, there's more of a social script for teachers to work with, etc. so I could probably wing it, maybe. If I decided to own a used-book store (knit and sell scarves behind the till, serve coffee, chat about literature, have a store cat, keep ridiculously detailed logs), so, you know, the English major wouldn't be a bad plan either, however 1) I'm terrified of random strangers, 2) I would quite possibly go mute with the quiet (like those fish tha swim into subterranian lakes and recieve no visual stimulus for a while and go blind), and 3) my business skills are severely challenged. Which may not be a boon to survival as the owner of... a small business. Oofta.
Also, some aspects of studying it make me want to tear out my hair. The seasonal affective disorder / whatever that hit me harder this year might have played a more-than-incidental role in this, but I've had to struggle, fight, and bribe my way through a great number of the readings in my English classes, which does not a fortuitous sign make. Of course I didn't want anything to do with Beowulf for the sixth time, but I even had authors and eras I rather loved. If I'd had my way I would have spent nearly every waking moment wallowing on the rug in a formless pile of blankets, listening to Agatha Christie audiobooks with my eyes closed. (Hey! Literature!)
But English is what I love. I live and breathe it, really. (Linguistics too. The wonderful little specialized bits and baubles of both make my toes curl with happy.) Furthermore it's the only thing I'm really good at, so it really kind of wins by proxy. Yes, I plan to declare Lit Studies. Yes, I'm still ambivalent about that.
Mentor time.
Prof. Lisa is one of my favorite professors ever. I could never have imagined her, she's too good for fiction- she's the craziest, most intelligent, enthusiastic woman I know. Her class is full of so many wonderful tangents I usually grin throuh half of it- she has this way of stopping mid-sentance, blinking a few times, and then going off on some completely different trail, arms windmilling in the air while she makes her point.
I really, really want to ask her to be my mentor. Part of me was super worried about never getting any advising done because we'd talk about the Anglo Saxon root for "Ethelbert" instead of going over my future plans, but part of me is thinking that's ok. She is the person that best reminds me of why I want to do this. I'm thinking maybe that's what I need most of all.
I hope she accepts me as a mentoree.
Fingers crossing! Toes too.
Ribbit.
I got a letter in my mailbox today to the tune of "Hello, undeclared student! It's a good idea to declare your major and advisor by... the eighteenth if you want to graduate two years from now!" Which... is a bit overdue, rather. Oh well!
I've been having a bit of a quandry lately regarding the whole major business. I mean, I love and want to teach British Literature, so literary studies seems like a good idea, but then, I'm terrified of random strangers, so maybe teaching doesn't seem like a good idea. On the other hand, there's more of a social script for teachers to work with, etc. so I could probably wing it, maybe. If I decided to own a used-book store (knit and sell scarves behind the till, serve coffee, chat about literature, have a store cat, keep ridiculously detailed logs), so, you know, the English major wouldn't be a bad plan either, however 1) I'm terrified of random strangers, 2) I would quite possibly go mute with the quiet (like those fish tha swim into subterranian lakes and recieve no visual stimulus for a while and go blind), and 3) my business skills are severely challenged. Which may not be a boon to survival as the owner of... a small business. Oofta.
Also, some aspects of studying it make me want to tear out my hair. The seasonal affective disorder / whatever that hit me harder this year might have played a more-than-incidental role in this, but I've had to struggle, fight, and bribe my way through a great number of the readings in my English classes, which does not a fortuitous sign make. Of course I didn't want anything to do with Beowulf for the sixth time, but I even had authors and eras I rather loved. If I'd had my way I would have spent nearly every waking moment wallowing on the rug in a formless pile of blankets, listening to Agatha Christie audiobooks with my eyes closed. (Hey! Literature!)
But English is what I love. I live and breathe it, really. (Linguistics too. The wonderful little specialized bits and baubles of both make my toes curl with happy.) Furthermore it's the only thing I'm really good at, so it really kind of wins by proxy. Yes, I plan to declare Lit Studies. Yes, I'm still ambivalent about that.
Mentor time.
Prof. Lisa is one of my favorite professors ever. I could never have imagined her, she's too good for fiction- she's the craziest, most intelligent, enthusiastic woman I know. Her class is full of so many wonderful tangents I usually grin throuh half of it- she has this way of stopping mid-sentance, blinking a few times, and then going off on some completely different trail, arms windmilling in the air while she makes her point.
I really, really want to ask her to be my mentor. Part of me was super worried about never getting any advising done because we'd talk about the Anglo Saxon root for "Ethelbert" instead of going over my future plans, but part of me is thinking that's ok. She is the person that best reminds me of why I want to do this. I'm thinking maybe that's what I need most of all.
I hope she accepts me as a mentoree.
Fingers crossing! Toes too.
