4 posts tagged “finals”

So life isn't all that great just yet. I'm waiting on comments from my thesis advisors about the (ostensibly) final draft of my thesis, the one that needs to be given some amount of verbal approval before I get it bound and it turns into approval-by-written-report. I have to get my GIS up and running and making some sort of analysis, and that seems like it will be a whole lot of work, but it needs to be done by Tuesday (with an accompanying 15-minute presentation, and 12-page research paper). On Wednesday Christian turns 25, which is awesome, but on Tuesday (after GIS) and Wednesday I have to write my final research paper ever for Brown (provided I pass my classes *holds breath, freaks out*)--it's 15 pages about Brown integrating women into the University in 1971 (while Barnard decided to stay segregated from Columbia), and I've already given the presentation that was to accompany it.

It's really just about time for me to write my final paper of the semester. Unfortunately (although appropriately), I stopped attending that class a few weeks before it officially ended, having deemed it a waste of my time, 100 minutes every week of my life that I wouldn't get back. (This makes me think about modern conceptions of time as money or commodity, or as moveable or transferable, and it reminds me of a paper I helped my sister Jill with this semester.)

It is only after 4:30PM tomorrow that I should be thinking about these things--currently, my mission revolves around forming 10 or 12 pages of articulated {something} about Women Strike for Peace, a group of women who left their homes in 1961 to protest the strontium-90 found in their milk as a result of nuclear testing. I wonder if this paper will proceed at all like the one I wrote on the Japanese Bluestockings Journal, published between 1911 and 1923. The history of feminism is always incredibly interesting to me, probably because I yearn to see the connections between then (them) and now (myself).

The plan, therefore, is to caffeinate, to eat, to set up shop at the Rock, and to write this last final paper before I forget that I'm not actually finished for the semester. I packed all of my clothing last night, before going to bed. Unfortunately, I also have 100+ pounds of books to box as well, (no word of a lie, 32 rather important volumes currently checked out from the libraries + my own personal collection which, stupidly, I take with me nearly everywhere). ACK I have so much crap. Move-out is always like punishment.

I did finish my Paris photo book, which now looks incredible I think. I also read a few books during this finals period, indicative of my relatively spread-out if not easy schedule. Additionally, my new apartment = very very awesome. I'm living there with Anne this summer, as well as a guy I don't know yet named Curtis, but he seems nice as well. I bought the desk I really wanted from the previous tenant, which I think helped both of us out. Move-in is June 1st, although I can barely even wait until then.

Now, I dress up and get out of here for real. Have the faith, and wish me luck.
 

Did I just reference the Matrix? Perhaps. Considering last night's lovely and substantial conversation with Ben and Anne, I excuse myself for it, if just this once.

I ate a ripe avocado for dinner last night. Avocados are the most rich and delicious food ever. They're on the top of my list, next to coconuts and whole milk. Mmm.

Today (yesterday) has waffled back and forth across the spectrum of exciting and underwhelming. I woke up very late, and then I considered for a long while why I feel so guilty when I sleep past 10 am. I'd never felt this guilt before, not ever, and I've collected my Zs with gusto. Especially as I only got 8 hours... I can't really isolate the one or two things which make me feel so guilty, althoughI know that the idea is that I'm sleeping through hours that should be productive, especially during finals.

And here I am, in my well-lit dorm room, guzzling tepid oversweet fair-trade coffee from the Rock and channeling freshman year, attempting to write twelve pages of something substantial and interesting by 1:30 pm tomorrow. I'm reminded of many things, including something Ethan told me once that has yet to stop resonating in all aspects of my life. This was circa his first year of college, I was a junior in high school, and I couldn't understand why he chose such an ambitious schedule, one laden with difficult classes and substantial lab blocks. He told me, "You know, I'm going to have to do the work at some point." I think he meant, "To be what I want to be, I'm going to have to put in a certain amount of hours, to tax myself, to be challenged and stressed and stretched thin at some point." I dreamt of him last night, in rare detail. I wonder if we'll ever meet again, and why I'd consider it.

I made an A in my graduate seminar, something which brings me great pride and satisfaction after a semester of unswerving devotion to the readings and the topics at hand. The class truly expanded my understanding of the discipline of archaeology, made me comfortable with problematizing and exercising a critical eye. I hope that it's a slice of a hypothetical future graduate school experience; (I hope I'd be comparably successful, that I'd be as challenged and taxed).

Now I am returned to the land of all-nighters and caffeine-induced delerium. I remember shaking with the momentum of a half-writ paper; the fourth-floor study longue in Keeney, watching the sunrise through the sky lights, not sleeping and not needing it; the satisfaction of climbing into bed in the middle of the day after handing in a finished paper. I don't know if tonight and tomorrow will be successful in this way. I hope to climb into bed at 4 pm tomorrow, and feel bone-tired, and sleep.

So here it is, the half-assed plan of catch-up academics. I'm 12 single-spaced pages deep in notes and quotes. I need to consult 4 more sources, (salt and pepper on the dish that is my paper, merely), create a table of artifact information, and write 10 double-spaced pages of information on buckles, buttons, rings, clasps, chains, pins, thimbles, beads,  tinkling cones, and bits of glass. Have the faith, please.
 

I think a large part of my easy awaking this morning had to do with the snow. I always want to get out of bed when it's a snowy morning. Something about snow and school cancellations and subsequent good feelings from my wasted early youth. Unfortunately the snow stopped by the time I got outside but I did get to class early and have felt chipper ever since.

I want to show you pictures of our Christmas tree! A large part of the joy of my living situation is that my friends (whom I live with) feel like family. On Friday afternoon, Kira and I sent Aaron and Tom out to find us (collectively, and Sarah) a 5' Christmas tree while we made room for it in the common room. They came back with a hulking mass of perfectly-conical Christmas Tree that measures a bit over 7' if you count the flourishes at the top. While we were somewhat stunned and highly amused, they attempted to get it in a base which was too small. Check it out:

The experience was awesome. We went to the Christmas Tree Shop for ornaments, lights, and whatnot, first stopping at Bertucci's for a nice dinner. Kira, Sarah, and I strung together hundreds of pieces of popcorn as cheap garland. We listened to Christmas music while trimming the tree and drinking sweet dessert wines a la Tom. By the end of the night, we were exhausted, finishing at 11:45 PM. Then we watched Love Actually, a fantastic holiday movie that Aaron hadn't seen. So it was a generally awesome night.

My pictures of the tree are far inferior to Aaron's basically professional job, but I will post both for an embarrassing comparison. My snapshots:

And Aarons photographs, for which I give him all credit: