When we last saw our hero…

August 12, 2008 in bloomington, history, photos, places, thought

I was staring down a thirty-page freight train of a paper, writing about music and well-named tools and generally hoping it would go away. It did go away, after many heavy sighs, panic attacks, and crippling self doubt—and many, many cups of coffee. I somehow managed thirty-eight pages of reasonably coherent writing in a little more than four days, something I never would have thought possible and even now find improbable.

There were a few things in particular that kept me sane throughout the process: lots of sleep, good music (thank you, Brahms, and thank you, Au), coffee, and, probably more than anything else, talking on the phone with Ruth every night. Also significantly, I managed to convince myself I had to finish the bulk of my writing nearly two days early so I could take off for Madison, Wisconsin for Mathfest and a little bit of math-nerdy family vacation. This allowed me to spend the first day of Mathfest in a sleep-deprived and caffeine-withdrawn stupor, writing and editing and compiling references (distressingly few, it turns out).

But! Madison is probably one of my favorite towns evar. I’m sure my impressions were colored by Bob and Colin’s nostalgia for their graduate school days, but it charmed me right from the get-go, with a night spent drinking brew dogs at the pub, apparently unchanged since the 80’s, where escapades were planned back in the day; eating amazing Afgani food at a bustling downtown restaurant; running into long-lost Williams folk on the street (also in town for Mathfest); and soaking up the truly bizarre scene at the famous UW Memorial Union terrace. Madison seems like a bigger, more vibrant, more bike-friendly, and more be-lake-ed version of Bloomington, another town I have become quite fond of. It was also the perfect symbolic and psychological break from the awful abyss of writing far too long a paper in far too little time, and probably staved off my typical post-partem depression.

Summer is almost over, and that means that not only do I really need to get my shit together re: grad school and senior year but I have to move again. Cue Psycho shower-stabbing music. I really dealt badly with the move out here, completely failing to make sensible travel plans and waiting until literally the last minute to thrown some clothes into my suitcase, and I’m in only marginally better shape this time. I am at least no longer homeless for two nights, thanks to the limitless generosity of family friends.

Grad school and I are still “it’s complicated” (on Facebook). I am perhaps less clear on what sort of program I should/want to apply to than I did coming into the summer, which I suppose is a good sign. But academia is scary and I feel like I’ve been rather less successful at doing self-guided work this summer than I had hoped. Still, I am mad excited about language and the mind so I remain optimistic about teh future. Stay tuned!