Soundtrack: Bach, 'Brandenburg Concerto No 3 in G Major'
And now, welcome back to Mastersplice Theatre.
In this installment, I bring you excerpts of a letter I wrote to my mom/me mum/Ma, and one she wrote to me. Not only is it a summary of a summary, but it is a useful summary. It also may showcase my Mom some, which I have been pitifully lacking in doing for awhile here.
Enjoy. Maybe. Not that you have to.
On The New Place
Mom: 'Greetings beloved son! Any chance [Gran and I] could get your address?'
Me: "Good to hear from you! Sure thing re: the address.
It's:
XXXX Willy St. XXXXXXXXX, WI #####
It's basically the hippie mecca of Madison, along with some artist folk, dead beats, offbeats--an area far more in-tune with my ethos than, say, frat boys baying at their beer like so many off-key Pagan wolves. I unfortunately have no 'net access at the place just yet, so my correspondence may lag a bit.
So far living in the new place with Brian is great. I haven't arranged much and I still can't find my floss (though I borrow his). We still get along well, I use some of his stuff, he uses some of mine, and in general I think it's a good fit. His wife is visiting from Indiana right now so they're usually out. They're both grad students, but they wanted to get married for the sake of it."
On Academia
Mom: 'could you call again soon or e-mail academic progress type of stuff[...]'
Me: "I've mostly been busy doing several things in one thing and several large things at once. So far as academics are concerned, I'm: at the tail-end of finishing a manuscript for a scientific article publication; continuing to work on one large monkey project; analyzing a large human data set for eventual publication; doing data entry with my undergrad to bring up an even larger human data set back from the grave; and doing some research to begin writing a small grant for the American Diabetes Association.
The latter is a big-shot deal, I think, because it's nearly unheard of for graduate students to literally fund their work (since technically only faculty members can apply for grants). But my advisor must think I can write something competitive enough that--with some to a lot of his editing--may be able to hold its own against other applications. If I got the grant, I'd have carte blanche to take whatever post-doctoral lab position I wanted (where doing a 'post-doc' is required before you apply for a faculty job as a professor).
The last thing would be to again mention my fellowship situation. I scored a national one where, out of 1,060 other applicants, I was one of about 60 that got it. It's from the Ford Foundation, which is a private foundation. Cool organization. I also got accepted to be on an emotions training grant under the aegis of two big-wig psychologists. Between those two funding sources, I have funding until 2010--all the way up until I finish my Ph.D.!"
On Dating
Me:
Besides academia, I've actually been dating again. If you fall off the horse twenty some odd times, it not only hurts less, but it's occasionally funny at cocktail parties! One of the women ended up deciding to continue things with a kinda sorta ex in Montreal. But still it is good practice. Another woman, Erin, recently broke up, whom I've occasionally gone out with. Obviously I wanna wait on that bit so I don't get a rebound effect, but something might eventually develop. That and I've had a crush on her since she came to the psych department a year ago.
On Old Friends Getting Hitched
Me:
"Speaking of which: has Daniel or Acacia contacted you about their wedding? I don't know what the guest list looks like, but I figured if it was one of those HUGE weddings (like Acacia's family might like) that they might've said something. Anyway, their wedding is in late December. So could I pretty please with sugar on top stay in my old room around then? I know it's silly to ask, but I'm in a silly mood. Then you and Gran can remark about how unbelievably thinner I am since last time and we can go out to La Frite and stuff. And who can turn down someone threatening to buy you new clothes? Eh? Eh?"
On Spirituality
Me:
"Spiritually things have been, well, odd. I'd recently, before the move, begun to walk through the forests and trails and prairies outside of the city every other day. During one journey, I just happened by and picked up this very handsome walking stick that was just sorta there. I feel it's a power item from the emanation of it. Maybe the forest folk all those years were trying to say something besides, 'you're human, it's nighttime in the forest...these two things don't normally compute.'
While that itself is cool, I've lately had a lot of clashes between internal light and dark energies. I try to understand and accept both equally, but lately it's been almost violent sometimes. I get the overall impression I'm to be conferred more power for something, but I don't know what. I only guess at it because I've had some unusual and slightly debilitating (but temporary) shifts in my health, where I'm normally healthy, as well as lots of personal and professional situations coming to a head at once. It kinda feels like Hercules sets of trials, like spending two hours last night wandering around trying to find out where I parked my car on the street (given that I have to move it every 2 hours then run back to the lab).
To be honest, though, there's not much of anything that requires my..gifts? The last thing of any major significance was coming into contact with a minor demon near an abandoned house I photographed, confronting it, having the light being brute squad come in, and subsequently finding out the house and even the foundations had been demolished. I know, coincidence and conspiracy, gotta love it. That was kinda cool (though I liked the house because I'm morbid like that). But since then, besides little fixer-uppers with people, it's mundane muggle business."
(Mom loves Harry Potter, hence my exclusive use of the reference--that and alliteration is fun)
On My Mom's Half Siamese, Half Whatever High-Maintenance Cat
Mom: 'Well Iv'e got to go now,I need to relax for a little before I finish cleaning the kitchen and making dinner so we can eat and be done with the meal at 8:00 this is when the sun sets and the cat goes frantic if he dosen't get his sunset walkies....his dinner is only an after thought compared to the all important twilight walkies. That's right the cat is calling the shots now. He decides when we get up ... he gets in his carrier on mornings when he thinks I should go and get coffee...after his morning walk , and playtime,of course. In fact mom will wait for meals and such just to accomodate the cat.He even gets fussy if we stay in the living room too late watching TV when he feels it is time to go to bed and read or whatever to wind down. I wonder what will happen when I go back to work and he is no longer the center of the universe?'
Me: "The cat sounds like a cute little hellraiser, as always. Food must come before twilight walkies or else! Hehe. And he even acts as an inadvertent wake up alarm and a coffee alarm. That's kinda neat, if maybe occasionally groaningly annoying. Hopefully the cat will be able to deal and mature when you need to go about earning money and stuff. Speaking of: what're your prospects in that regard?"
On The Root of Affection
Mom: 'Lots of Love and Blessings... MMMWWWAAAH! : < *'
Me: "Lots of love to you too, Ma.
Hugs and kisses and nuzzles,
(signature)"
...
Alright that's enough familial voyeurism. Back to reading about me in the 1st and 3rd post-modern present.
