The Ivory Tower

Hey y'all! Well I finally got around to putting pictures up of the place where I will be working like a mad man. As you can tell I am not a professional photographer by any stretch of the imagination.

This is where my department is. Pretty huh?

This is their version of Library Mall.

Typical pathway on campus. Huge magnolia trees all over. Someone told me that they have one of each tree found in Tennessee.

I can see this clock tower from my office window. Yeah that's right office.

This is their school of engineering. Very imposing.

Not gonna lie, I would prefer a Caribou.

There you have it folks, a little insight into my life here at school.

No Pictures But Funny Stories

So I have totally been procrastinating on taking the pictures but it's because I have been kinda busy with school stuff. Pretty much every day I have been walking to the psych building to work on old research projects and getting started on new ones. It's great to live within walking distance of the campus but I am finding there are some major downsides as well. Well actually there is only one downside. I never thought of myself as a sweaty person, sure I would sweat when working out but who doesn't? Well I have come to find out that humidity and myself do not get along. While everyone around me looks as cool as a cucumber, I look like someone dropped me into a pool. It has gotten so bad that I have to plan around how sweaty I will get. For example, I had to go into the lab today so that I could get some work done. Also while I was there, I had to meet with the academic coordinator to go over my schedule. I knew that I would be a dripping mess once I got to the building; the walk takes about 20 minutes. I left for the lab early enough so that I could sit in my air conditioned office and dry before heading down to my meeting. This is all fine and dandy now since I have an overabundance of time but once school starts? I foresee having half my wardrobe at school for mandatory costume changes.

I have learned all sorts of things since coming to Nashville. It really is a whole other world from what I am used to. People are surprisingly polite and any women over the age of 35 calls sweetie or hun. Another thing that I have learned; Scientology isn't just for the rich and famous. One day when I was walking to school, already fairly sweaty I might add, I was stopped by three people. They were all dressed in business clothes and looked like they were on campus for a meeting. The leader of the group asked me if I knew where the Student Life Center was because they were part of an education conference that was being held there. Now I haven't been on campus long but I have started to learn my way around. I told here that I did and that I would be walking past it on my way so I told them to follow me. The woman and I made awkward conversation while the other two followed in silence. She was asking me if I was a student and what I was studying. I told her that I was actually a grad student, puffing my chest out a little, and that I was in the clinical psych program. After I had said this, the other two started talking quietly to one another while the woman seemed to intentionally ignore them. She asked, "Oh like psychiatry?" I get this a lot, the confusion of psychology and psychiatry, so I told her no actually. As we were nearing the Student Center I asked what school they were with since they were going to an education conference. The woman said oh we are with the Church of Scientology on 8th, you should stop by, bring friends if you want. I kinda tripped over myself at that point and said oh, well, here is the center have a good day. I booked it as fast as I could. I didn't even know they allowed Scientology in the South.

How Long Has It Been?

The last time I even thought to write on here there was snow piled on the ground and I never thought I would be warm again. Now I am sitting in a coffee shop, in Nashville, afraid to go outside because if I do, I will be drenched in sweat within minutes. I don't know if it is because I have lived in colder climates for the past 5 years but I cannot get over how flipping hot it is outside. People walk down the street in jeans and it blows my mind, how are they not suffering from heat stroke? Supposedly it is pretty bad up in the Cities but I am gonna put my money on it being worse down here.

I moved into my apartment earlier this week and it is pretty nice. The floors squeaked a lot wherever I walked but it didn't bother me too much. Unfortunately the same can't be said for the guy who lives below me. This came to my attention last night while I was talking to my dad on the phone. When I talk on the phone I like to pace around the room rather than just sit in one place. I don't know why I do this, I just do. About midway through the conversation and mid-step, I hear a double bang which seemed to originate from below me. I stoped moving just to see if it would continue, which it didn't, so I started walking again. Then came a single bang, definitely not a coincidence. It was about 10:30 at night so I figured the person below me felt that I should be going to bed when he was. I cry bullshit.

This morning I went down to the office to report that my floor was really squeaky and that I think the guy below me was banging on the ceiling to tell me to stop moving around. The women at the office told me he had come in just earlier to report the same thing. For some reason I feel threatened by this guy. It isn't my fault that the floor is squeaking and I shouldn't be forced to only move around my apartment when it is convenient for him. Either way, they are sending some maintenance people up to my apartment today to fix all the floorboards. Hopefully they will do an adequate job the first time so that my downstairs "neighbor" won't be banging anymore.

Today I think I am going to walk around the campus and take pictures of it so that I can post them on here. I want to give y'all a better idea of what life is going to be like for me here. I won't take any pictures of my apartment just yet because I don't even have my furniture yet so it looks like a crack den.

Because Procrastination Is What I Do

So right now I should be working on slides for a poster that needs to be done by Sunday. Now you may think that that leaves me plenty of time to work on it this week but I have some guests coming into town on Friday so I should really be getting this stuff done. The thing is, I just don't want to work on it. My avoidance is reaching the levels it was at when I was applying to grad school. I have checked every blog I read like 6 times, scoured HuffPo for any interesting news stories, Twittered, and now I am blogging. As a side note, a dude just walked by in jean shorts, ahhh Spring. See, this is how not into doing work right now I am. If I could just get myself to put in some effort for like 2 hours, I know that I could get some quality work done. 

So as I said earlier, I recently starting Twittering and I really think that the format compliments my personality. I am a horrible story teller, either I will start a story that kind of just wanders without an end or it will be a, "you had to be there" story. Therefore, blogging isn't something that comes easy to me. I rarely reread my posts and think, "wow that post flowed so well, and it was funny!" Which brings me back to Twitter, by only being able to write short snippets I don't have to be so worried with where it is going. A quick quip is all that is required rather than a long post filled with funny anecdotes and jokes. This must say something about who I am as a person. 

11:11 Make A Wish

As many of you know by now, a week ago today I found out that I got into grad school. Out of 320 applicants, 3 of us were chosen. It still blows my mind that I was accepted, especially since it seemed that every other applicant was from an Ivy League. Not that Wisconsin is anything to laugh at; our clinical program was/is ranked first in the nation. Too bad that ridiculous amounts of competition and back biting came out of that rating. I think that is what drew me the most to Vanderbilt, all the faculty seemed to genuinely like one another. Rather than viewing another's achievement as a threat, the Vandy profs bragged about their fellow faculty. The financial package that comes with the admission offer isn't something to scoff at either. My schooling will be paid for in full for all five years and I will receive a stipend each year for the nine months I am in school. Dr. Park, the prof I will be working with, said she will cover the other three months with a grant she has. Oh and if that wasn't enough, there is a chance that I could do research in Zurich, Switzerland for a summer. Someone please pinch me because this has to be a dream.

Last night I was driving home from watching the Oscars at Em's house and the clock said 11:11. I am a huge geek so whenever I notice the clock is 11:11 I do the whole, "make a wish" thing. Prior to last week, the wish always was that I hoped I got into grad school. Prior to that it was I hope I do well on the GRE. I am afraid that at my weaker moments I even wished for a boyfriend. Last night though, when it was 11:11 came around, I didn't make a wish. There is nothing that I want right now that I don't already have and that is a pretty darn good feeling. 

Now the only thing that is left is for the weather to turn warm here in the MPLS and rock out all summer long. I foresee another trip to Seattle, drinking around the lakes here (I wonder if they serve beer at the food stand on Lake Calhoun?), and just enjoying myself before I have to dedicate the better half of the next decade to becoming a doctor. 

Domino's MVP

Just when I thought I was getting the hang of making healthy life choices, my dark past has come back to rear its ugly head. Not moments ago, the buzzer to my apartment was rung. Seeing as how this building is too old to have an intercom system I had to hurry down stairs to the front door. When I got there I saw the postman putting today's mail into everyones boxes. He looked up at me and asked, "204?". I responded that I was the tenant at 204 and he hands me my mail saying, " I was able to get the netflix into your box but this wouldn't budge." I was hopeful that maybe it was an envelope from one of the seven other schools I applied to but it was not. No, instead of a letter of acceptance, it was a hard envelope addressed to Domino's Pizza MVP. I cannot tell you how much my heart sank when I read that. I got upstairs and opened it immediately. Inside the hard envelope was another envelope. The second envelope said that something this important required two envelopes. The suspense was killing me so I opened the second envelope and inside it was a letter thanking me for being such a valued customer, and for being such a loyal patron they gave me a free one topping pizza coupon. Now I am sure most of you read this and think wow that is so awesome I wish I received free Domino's coupons in the mail. Just think for the moment though on how much I probably had to spend to reach that level and how much pizza that means I have consumed. I had hoped that by trying to get back into shape I would have left that world behind but it looks like it isn't ready to give me up so easily. 

Up In The Sky! It's A Bird! It's A Plane! It's...

When I look back on my childhood, some of my best memories are of me playing in my room. I was never much of an outdoors kid, preferring to play inside with my toys or read the newest Bailey School Kids book. Of course when I had to I would play outside with the rest of the neighborhood kids, but it was never as fun as when I was by myself. When I played in my room, I could let my imagination run wild. I remember playing with my X-Men action figures for hours creating the most convoluted stories. Sometimes my dad would join me, he always chose to be Cyclops which was totally cool with me since I never really cared for Cyclops. Looking back I know that my dad would have preferred to take me outside and have me work on my swing or catching ground balls. Rather than forcing me to do something I didn't want to do, my dad accepted me for who I was and played action figures with me. That's the thing with my dad, he has always accepted me for who I was rather than expecting me to fit a predetermined role. 

I don't know when I first discovered superheroes but I am forever grateful that I did. These heroes represented everything that I wanted to be and I set out to learn as much about them as I could. I wanted to know how they became who they were so that I could hopefully join their ranks one day. The best thing about the X-Men is that they didn't become superheroes because of some gamma ray accident or being bitten by a radioactive spider. The X-Men were born with their powers. When I went to bed, rather than praying for a new bike or an A on a test, I would pray that I would develop powers. See, the X-Men didn't develop their powers until they were teenagers so from the age of 7 to probably 13 I was still holding out that I would one day be able to fly or freeze things with my touch. Unfortunately I never developed any powers and as I got older I would bring out the X-Men less and less. It seems that along with the toys, my imagination was brought out less and less as well. I used to create entire worlds within my room and these days I have difficulty visualizing an outfit I would want to wear. If your imagination needs to be worked like a muscle to be maintained, then I have let it atrophy. Maybe it is the winter but I feel like when I look around everything seems so boring and plain. What I wouldn't give to be able to look at the world like I used to. Rather than just seeing life as it is, I want to see life as it could be. I don't mean for this to sound like a loss of innocence or something but things seemed so much cooler when I was younger. Who knows maybe those powers are still in me, we Petermans are late bloomers.