my life 2008

Diana,

That’ll be the day, when you need luck to get something you want. Stick to your guns and trust your preparation - you’ve proved time and again that you can make your own luck.

I don’t want to distract you from your meeting, but if you can spare a thought for Linda that day I’d appreciate it. She’s going into the hospital for surgery, and good vibes will help.

Dave

I first knew of your through your blog from Balad. Your writing intrigued me, made me laugh and taught me the reality of your life over there. You are a fine writer and that blog should be required reading for those who make the big decisions in this world. With great clarity and humour, it brought home what you lived with everyday.

Thank you for that peek into your life.
L.G.
PS: You needn’t post this comment.

L.G.,

Thank you very much. Your compliment is perhaps more timely than you realize.

Last week, for the first time since I returned, I reread that blog. I haven’t in the interim because I didn’t want to relive the experience, but Jeff (my boss then and my friend now) just went back as a civilian contractor. From Iraq, he asked for the link so he could reread, so I began a “sympathy read."* As I did, I noted my own tendency to make light of what angers me the most, and I wondered if my feelings had been apparent to outside readers.

* Where you may have just written something, but you reread it as people respond so you can see it through their eyes and thus admire yourself from different angles.

You just answered that. Thank you.

I used that experience (and my reliving of it now through my writings then) as a jumping-off point for the paper I just wrote.

d

Thanks, Dave. :)

I like to think I don’t need luck, but luck never hurt anyone.

What’s going on with Linda? I didn’t see anything on your blog about it.

d

Diana,

I try to not post publicly about other people’s private matters, that’s why I haven’t said much in my blog about Linda’s health. Plus she enjoys her privacy. I think the best way to sum up her condition is “female stuff,” but it requires much more than a simple hysterectomy to correct. Fortunately, cancer is not in the diagnosis.

Rereading a blog or journal can be an enlightening exercise. Mine triggers old emotions of course, but I think it’s also interesting to see how I’ve changed since I wrote that - and also what parts of me have remained the same.

When I read your blog, I don’t think I ever noticed a time when you seemed angry. There were things that certainly seemed to annoy you, like the Turkish washing machines, and there were some recurring topics that I suspected weighed heavily on your mind. But your emotional state was hidden from me.

Dave

Hi, Dave. :)

Good to hear there’s no cancer in the diagnosis, for certain. I hope all goes well with her. She sounds like an amazing lady.

I was also fascinated to relive those times, juxtaposing me then with me now. The read was as enlightening as it was painful.

I vent my anger through sarcasm. It’s the only way I know to laugh at things that are stupid and unfair. As I reread it, though, I thought, Gee…I sound like I’m having a good time–
but I know I wasn’t.

I appreciate your sharing your take on this, too. Interesting….

d

Diana,

Linda -is- an amazing lady. She’s as soft as a kitten and as strong as iron. Thank you for the good wishes.

I noticed your sarcasm - it’s one of the things I find entertaining about your blog - but without knowing you other than through your writing I had no way to tell how angry you were about those situations. I knew you weren’t having a good time in Iraq, but only because nobody has a good time in Iraq.

Dave

Being Canadian, my sensibilities are somewhere between American and British. Your anger and frustration, understated but nonetheless deftly expressed, came through clearly to me.

When you wrote of the need to produce a writing sample, your Balad writing immediately came to mind. Glad to see it lives on in a new iteration. Any chance of doing more with it for a wider audience or would that have to wait until you become a civilian?
LG

You are, indeed, astute, LG. I’m interested in doing more with it, but I’m fairly certain that I’ll need to retire first (and that’s 8-9 years away). I already got in trouble once for my “insightfulness” in that blog (which pretty much guarantees it will be up forever, if I have anything to say about it).

:)

d

Good news from a couple of people at work:

The first was from the main personnel officer for the department, a creative writer himself. He read my writing sample when I sent it in Friday and wrote back and said he’d read it and dang. Just dang. I could rest easy. I “done good.”

:)

When I got home today, Tom had left a message for me. Tom is our Rhodes scholar, one of the most brilliant (and humble) people in the department, and a member of the executive committee. He called to say this: “I’m looking forward to your presentation tomorrow, but I just called to say I read ‘Moved by Fancies’"–my submission–"and I’m moved to say that it is drop dead beautiful.”

Wow. Just wow.

I’m starting to believe I have a shot at this.

I meet the executive committee tomorrow to sell them on me, and on the MFA.

d

Diana,

I had a feeling your blogging might ruffle a feather or two. But isn’t that what feathers are for?

And in spite what I said before: good luck at your meeting today.

Dave

Diana, I had to stop and back up when I read “creative non-fiction". However, I saw what you meant when you and Dave started talking about your blog (which, by the way, I still enjoy reading!).

I know that, by the time you read this, you will have heard back about your chances. I’m betting (with everyone else) that you don’t have a thing to worry about! You ARE a writer, and an extremely good one. I know you will do well at anything you put your mind to. So I expect you to have that degree within the next three years!

Love you! Keep up the good work!

Thanks, Aunt B’Ann. :)

The answer was no, actually–with a caveat. I’ll explain.

First, my feelings: disappointed, angry, relieved.

I’m angry about the mixed messages I’ve gotten from the department concerning my options and what to prepare for. They think I don’t write well enough.

They’re wrong about that. (And to be fair, not all of them share that judgment, either. Just–apparently–the ones that matter here.)

I’m disappointed, because I wanted a terminal degree. However, the disappointment will go away, I think, because I wanted a terminal degree for two main reasons: so I could come back here and teach, and because it would be cool (admit it) if I were Dr. Black. The latter is simple vanity and not worth the struggle. The former I’ll get anyway.

I’m relieved because either program was going to be hard, hard work for me (if you combine my lack of academic preparation for advanced work in English with my penchant for perfectionism, you’ll see immediately that I’d have not come up for air until it was over). I’m relieved because all I have to work on now is lesson prep and grading; approval meant I was writing intensely and applying to programs, etc.

Here’s what they did offer me–because I’m a proven colleague AND I’m an outstanding teacher (as per everyone on the executive committee): an MA in English. :)

This means four things: (1) I’ll go to school for 18-24 months (Col H seems to believe she can score a two-year appointment for me to school instead of the usual 18-month time limit), so I’ll have what amounts to a vacation,* and I desperately need one. (2) I can return here when I finish (although probably after an intervening tour someplace). (3) I’ll have the opportunity to fill the gaping holes in my English education. (4) I can now retire at 20, if I desire to do so.

* Compared to my life since 2003, when I began doing the first master’s in my “leisure time", deployed, returned to finish master’s, then came here where I worked EVEN HARDER to learn my job, etc.

I didn’t know this option was on the table. My boss confirmed that it hadn’t been, actually. I think this may be the first time they’ve sent a standing teacher to get an MA, as a matter of fact. They hired me only marginally qualified, but I’ve worked out so well that they don’t want to lose me. This is the compromise, and it is a good one.

I haven’t thought about colleges yet. I’m interested, frankly, in just BEING for a few days before I begin my search.

In other news, we got our first snowfall in Black Forest last night–just enough to crust the needles, make the sidewalk crunch, and make driving treacherous. Beautiful, though.

Love you! :D

d

PS: Dave: how’s Linda?

Diana,

It sounds like this is an extension of what Jess told you earlier. What are you on fire for? Is it really a PhD? Or is it teaching? Apparently the two do not go hand-in-hand. Or is it writing?

Sometimes we spend such a long time following the path to our dream that we start to act like the path -is- the dream. You’ve gotten a fresh look at the terrain. Now seems like a good time to review and revise your battle plan.

Thanks for asking about Linda. She came through the surgery in fine shape. At pre-op testing the nurses told her it would take four hours, which scared her pretty badly. Tuesday morning she found out her doctor had scheduled the OR for two hours, and it actually took ninety minutes. She was up and walking today (Wednesday). Now that it’s over she’s very relieved and ready to put the past year of health struggles behind her. She should have steady improvement from here on.

Dave

Not a good writer! If you aren’t a good enough writer, I’d like to know who they think is.

Years back, a writer from Atlantic Monthly sent in a selection of famous American writers’ work pretending to be essays for the standard US university entrance exam. Those scoring the essays didn’t like any of them. I remember the marker finding Hemingway’s uncredited essay had too many short sentences and described the writing as facile. Consequently, his mark was quite low. You are in good company.

Another point, are you allowed to consider foreign universities? Canada, the UK, Europe and beyond have some interesting programs.

I’m glad to see that you can find the positive side of this disappointment.

I hope you are getting some time to enjoy your new home and refurbished knee.

LG

That’s just it, Dave…I thought the only way to keep teaching was to get the terminal degree. Apparently not. Here’s another saving grace that I thought of yesterday: when I began looking for a good degree program two years ago, my biggest problem was that I had no desire to specialize, and a PhD program (and an MFA) require just that. Now I get what I want without having to make that difficult choice.

It’s good to hear Linda’s doing well. A four-hour operation would scare me, too. :|

LG, that’s a great story. :) It reminds me a bit of the congregation that was being too picky about possible new preachers until one of the elders sent in an application from a bogus party with the qualifications of the Apostle Paul….

Yesterday, in private and–please excuse the melodrama–trembling with helpless fury, I began to wonder who I was angry with. I reached the uncomfortable conclusion that perhaps the target of my ire is me. Yes, I got mixed signals from everyone in the department about what I should do, and yes, the mentorship I hear so much about usually doesn’t come through in practice, but ultimately, I didn’t turn in the kind of piece they were looking for because I let them influence me. I didn’t just stick with my gut from the beginning, and I should have.

And again, as I was teaching Hemingway :) yesterday (funny you should mention him), it occurred to me that we remember him because he wrote his own way. He didn’t try to create the purple prose he’d grown up reading. I began to ask myself why I tried to create the sort of papers I thought they’d like instead of just writing what I’m good at, and I had no good answer.

With these realizations, I found some closure (and composure). I can take being mad at myself. Maybe that’s because I can do something about it. ;)

Speaking of composure, I’ve been on the verge of tears for a couple of weeks now. The pressure and frustration took its toll on me, then the news was a bit of a blow, so my emotional state was even more fragile yesterday…except when I stepped into the classroom. No matter what else happens, my students remind me why I do this. (I don’t have time this morning to tone down the sappiness, but it’s true.) I’m happy in the classroom.

Oh…we can attend universities outside the US, but it’s rare because they’re usually cost-prohibitive.

d

Diana,

I’m sorry if I seemed insensitive in my last comment. (I should know better than to post at oh dark thirty.) I know that pursuing the degree has been a major point of focus for you for a long time, and having the rules changed on you like that has got to be a shock. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize that sooner.

I suspect a large part of the reason you wrote what you thought your committee wanted was that you’re trained to be a team player. Your peers and seniors told you they needed comp/rhet, so you looked at comp/rhet and tried to find something in it for you. But now you’re told that was the wrong thing to do. I imagine you’re in a difficult spot - as an academic you need to be a free thinker, but as an Air Force officer you need to put your unit first.

I like your and LG’s observations about Hemingway. It reminds me of the old saying that I used to bug Dad with: “Those who can, do; those who can’t, teach.” (In Dad’s defense, his genius was in teaching drafting, not in being a draftsman. Even though he did 20 years as a sailor and was proud of his service, right up until the end if you’d asked him what he was, he’d answer “a teacher.") The same thing happens in industry. A standing joke in my field is:

Q: Why do people drop out of Computer Science?

A: Because -somebody- has to hire the graduates.

I think the alternative you’ve been offered says a lot about your standing in the department. Maybe they poked holes in your attempt to be a traditional PhD candidate, but they think highly enough of -you- to give you an option that nobody else has gotten. I give them props for being flexible so you can keep teaching; they know there aren’t many conventional candidates that have your talent.

Dave

P.S. That’s wonderful that you find your classroom to be a haven from the paper chase. I’m sure that’s not lost on your associates either. D.

Sometimes being shoved off the treadmill of expected next steps leads to possibilities we’ve never considered before.

That’s poetic, LG. And absolutely correct, of course.

I’ve spent my life (literally) not making plans–this is an exception to the rule. I like me that way. There’s certainly less disappointment waiting in the wings when you aren’t married to any given outcome, isn’t there?

I’ve always been able to make lemonade, as they say. Why would this be any different?

Dave,

You didn’t seem insensitive. I can’t imagine you that way, even. Worry not. ;)

d

Well, I’m surprised that they turned you down, after you did what they told you to do. However, you have come out of the fiasco with the best deal yet! I salute you, my wonderful niece!