Missing and Action:

Posted on November 27, 2012


This is not my image. Yes. I know. It has been quite some time since the last post. I have not fallen off the face of the earth, which I’ve heard is a physical impossibility, unless of course, I am circling in earth’s orbit, which means, of course, that I have — in fact — catapulted myself off of the face of earth via rocket ship, and not fallen as the popular axiom would have us all believe.

I digress.


How are you?

I am fine. I am cray, but fine.

Okay. Nitty gritty time. Let’s check in.

1. I’ve been busy. Like, super busy. Not so busy that I didn’t have time to post here, because I’ve been doing other writing but busy enough to convince myself that I didn’t have time to post here. Whenever I come here, I feel I must be rigorously honest, about myself, my life, my emotional status, my financial, etcetera etcetera. Sometimes, this is scary. Being super honest to people that you feel know you fairly well has become scary again. Not because I am using. But because I am not using. I am super sober and this makes me super sensitive and I feel like I’ve been wired on caffeine for the past two months because they have flown by without a note, or a letter. Just gone. Where does time go when it leaves? I hear it simply comes back around.

2. Finals are approaching. Finals, and an even bigger thing, that I have not mentioned here yet because I have been trying to process it all in my brain. Which is a very scary place to be sometimes. Especially if I am there trying to figure it all out on my own. It can become quite lonesome. And in the words of Allen Ginsberg, I’m never sure whether it’s sinister or some sort of practical joke. “I’m trying to come to the point.”

3. I had a dream the other night, about babies. Jill had a baby and my friend, an addiction specialist and recent UCLA PhD. grad, Adi, had a baby. I had to change both babies’ diapers, and while Jill’s baby’s diaper was free and clean, maybe a little bit of pee, Adi’s baby’s diaper was filled with shit. Greasy, messy dark shit that got all over my hands and my arms. I couldn’t wipe it off. There was no amount of scrubbing that would clean my hands. I woke up and thought, “Holy crap, I need to apply to Master’s programs, not just PhD. programs, lest I be covered in shit!” *In all likelihood, I didn’t really say the word “lest” in my thoughts upon awakening. I am not that cool.

4. I had been intent upon applying to doctorate programs once I’d completed my Bachelor’s degree. This meant that I would take the next year off to work, take GRE’s (General Record Examinations), apply to grad schools, and then hopefully be in a program by Fall 2014.The year of 2014 I will be 31. Most doctorate programs run 5-7 years. That means I will be, on average, 37 by the time I finish. That also means that Mr. Man would have waited 7-9 years for me to begin a career and start a family. Which he may or may not be okay with. The truth is, I want to be a doctor because of my ego and not just because I want to help people. Yes, I would love to do research for the rest of my life, bury my head in books and papers and thoughts and hypothesize about the way things are and are not, but I would also love to have a family. I would love to begin my career before 40, have a family before 40, be done with school long before 40. It is incredibly selfish of me to plan our life by my ego’s need to be called “Doctor,” when theoretically, I can do just as much help being called, “Jennie.” School will always be there. And if I tend it lovingly, if I nurture what is ours and what can be ours, so will my relationship with Mr. Man. So….

5. I am almost done with my first grad school application. I am applying to Northwestern’s Master’s of Science in Marriage and Family Therapy. I want to work with the addiction population, and there are a few professors there whose research aligns with what I “think” is my path. I am also applying to Portland State’s Master’s Education in Rehabilitation Counseling, and Seattle University’s Master’s Education in Community Counseling. If I don’t get in, I can always take the GREs next year and continue with the first plan, but also include some terminal, professional programs. I cannot be so rigid as to think that what I’ve decided I should achieve is the only way my life will be fruitful. Because, in truth, life already is.

Namibia AdventureYes, it is a little late to be applying, but whatever, here I go. We shall see. I will try to be unattached. Try to leave it all in the hands of my HP. Try to believe that no matter what happens, I am okay and things are as they should be. I cannot manage my own life as I try, so desperately, to do. I have learned to trust. I will continue to do so.


“Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.”

I am not afraid.