One term down, something like 8 to go...

I finished my last final for my first term of "back to college" about an hour ago. I was the most nervous about this final--Death and Dying--but I got a 98% on the test. That means that, with Accounting and Biology, I have my first ever 4.0 gpa. This is a great beginning :-)

I'm celebrating, of course, but my best friend is in a meeting, my other best friend is putting her son to bed, and my parents are in Costa Rica. So, I'm celebrating alone, but that's okay. A lot of this I did on my own. All of my celebrations will come with various friends and family in their due time, but tonight I'm content to celebrate with myself. Gatsby greeted me at the door and we spent a fair amount of time jumping on our hind legs and dancing about. Gatsby did great work too...he spent a damn lot of time alone during this term and didn't so much as tear up one shoe or dig one item out of the trash.

I start up again in two and a half weeks with intermediate algebra and cellular biology. I need to find a way to bottle this feeling, 'cause it's not going to last long. Tonight, though, I will allow it to last forever.

How it is

Let me tell you how it is to be somewhat obsessed with funerals.

Yesterday I had my dissection test on Dexter. I got a perfect score because I knew that rat inside and out. I spent more time last week with him than I did with anyone else (besides Gatsby). And, because I tend to form attachments, I was bothered by the Rat Bin. The Rat Bin is the biohazard bucket under the sink in the bio lab, the storage container for Dexter between the lab and his final resting place.

After my test, I had to "throw away my rat." After, mind you, my professor cut off his foot so that no one else used Dexter for his/her test. Regardless of whatever atrocities I had done to my own rat (cutting his heart quite literally in half, for one...I won't mention how I accidentally nearly castrated him), cutting off his foot seemed particularly mean-spirited. This is because I had begun to say goodbye.

I carried Dexter (and his foot) over to the bin and began to wrap him up in paper towels like a burrito. I tucked his foot back in at the top by his little ear (the other one was in the plastic bag under him, he is forever Van Gogh) and laid him in the trash. Yes, I said a few words (in my head).

It would not have been possible for me to just toss him in the trash. And that, more than anything, is telling more than words could about the importance of funerals--no matter how small or unceremonious--they are.

I'm still here!

I promise...and I have quite a few things to write about, but no time to do so. Finals begin soon, and I'm in the middle of all sorts of craziness. So, stay tuned--I'll be back!

A calmer, gentler day

Started out the day with Erica hanging at the outlet mall and doing some well needed retail therapy, which helped me recover from yesterday's "episode." Then I headed to Normandale to talk to one of the academic counselors there and see what deals I could shake down.

Apparently, I am not a deal maker. I'm taking Survey of Chemistry. BUT, I'm taking it this summer, so it will be as painless as possible. I'm also taking an anthropology class called Magic, Witchcraft & Religion, which I'm super excited about. During the second summer term I'm taking Intermediate Algebra and Health Professions Terminology. That leaves me with quite an icky schedule for fall classes, but I'll make it work. Maybe.

At any rate, I'm scheduled for classes and it's spring break and I'm c-a-l-m.

The bubble

Took that stressful histology quiz today...got a 20/20. I missed two questions (confused "ground substance" for "matrix" and completely forgot what collagen fibers were) but answered the 2 point bonus question (transitional epithelium) so I evened out.

Let me tell you about the bubble. The A bubble. Lots of people know about this, probably, but I'm just finding out about it now, since I used to be a B/C student. The A bubble is a delicate balloon of perfection that starts out innocently enough but snowballs into a tightrope of pressure and stress.

In the A bubble, I have all As. The number of points I've lost in all three of my classes can be counted on one hand. I love that. I kind of wish I'd done it sometime before my thirties. But, here's the thing: the harder and longer I work to keep my A, the more stressful it becomes. If I keep an A until now and then blow it on one test, what then? The chances of my getting it back are slim to none, because the trick to the bubble is: once it pops, there's no repairing it. Whereas if I was a perfectly happy B student, all the pressure is off.

Is this making sense? I'm delirious I think.

Anyway, I love being smart. I've always been smart, but I've never been that big of a fan of utilizing my brains. It's kind of a cool thing and, whether or not I actually end up in funeral directing (more on that later), it's been totally worth going back to school just to do it right the second time around.

Tolstoy?

I mooched The Death of Ivan Illyich because it was mentioned as "required reading" by a doctor specializing in Palliative Care on a video I watched last week in Death/Dying. I'm really surprised I haven't heard of it. Quite excited to begin it--possibly tonight but I've got a ton of biology to do and instead of studying I spent an hour yapping on the phone with Erica.

All is well in the academic world...still trying to find my groove. I think I had it in the beginning but it slipped a bit when Jessie came to visit. Now I need to refocus and redouble my efforts. If that's possible.

School days, school days, dear old golden rule days...

The whole night can be summed up in one piece of information: I had to leave biology in order to go throw up.

Sometime around 9:00 this morning, I began to have "stomach issues." I thought it was nerves, and began to realize that I may have underestimated the massiveness of the changes I'm putting myself through. Later it became painfully clear that nerves weren't all what was happening. It should be said, though, that I have always manifested "nerves" through physical ways: I get sick, throw up, get headaches, etc. This appears to be just the flu.

Aside from the puking, my first trip back into a college classroom in ten years proved to be enlightening. I'm still not sure quite what to make of it. There are eighty people signed up for the class. My biggest class at St. Olaf was my monday night psychology seminar with sixty people. Other than that, I didn't have a class over 40.

Other differences:
--> The last time I was in college, the internet was new and used mostly for....well, I don't know what. I think academics, actually.

--> The last time I was in college, the only person who had a "cell phone" was Donald Trump. And it was the size of his head.

--> The last time I was in college I was 21 and my highest priorities were: getting drunk, getting laid, and passing classes...in that order.

I don't know how all of this will pan out. The class is going to be hard. Extremely hard. I'm not afraid of hard work, but I am scared to paralysis to fail. Hopefully Wednesday I'll feel better--I teach from 7 to 3 and have class from 4-9. Hell day.

First Day of School

I've always loved the night before the first day of school. I'm excited, can't sleep, and I feel like I want to jump right into my studies and get ahead in all of my subjects.

I'm a teacher instead of a Nobel Prize winning physicist because that feeling doesn't last beyond the night before the first day of school.

Tomorrow I officially begin on the path to becoming a funeral director. The classes aren't that exciting yet, but they're the ones that will build the foundation on which everything else will be built: accounting, psychology of death and dying, and human biology.

I don't know how much I'll sleep tonight--it's 11pm and I'm thinking that I might make some popcorn--but when I'm going on the "night before the first day of school" energy, life is all good.

One quiz down and some early lessons about my new environment

I passed my first quiz in accounting tonight with 100%. It was a quiz on the syllabus, which has apparently become required in colleges so that the instructor can insure that the students actually read the thing. I haven't even set foot back on campus and I can already tell from my accounting textbook and this "syllabus quiz" concept that college is a lot different than it was the last time I was there. My accounting book, in the middle of a section, suggested that if I was getting confused I should step away from the book and take a 10-15 minute break to clear my head. Back when I was in college the first time, the textbooks were filled with new information that would show up on a test, not common sense study tips. We were supposed to know those already.

I guess with No Child Left Behind, though, books need to be written to the lowest common denominator. In the past, you figured out how to study in high school or you didn't do so well in college (I was in the latter group). Now, though, so far it appears that the publishers assume that you have only two brain cells to rub together and have responded accordingly.

Did I mention that the class average grade on the quiz is 93%? On the SYLLABUS.

Of course, this false sense of security I'm indulging in will likely be kicked right out of me at 4pm on Monday when I stroll into Biology and all of the knowledge I've ever had in my head will be zapped out as I cross the threshold.

Fortunately, I hear they have a textbook for people like me.

Five days to liftoff...

In five days I will set foot in the classroom as a student for the first time in ten years. I have equal levels of excitement and trepidation, just never at the same time. The first step in this process is to complete my prerequisites, classes that will get me to the level I need to be in order to compete at the University of Minnesota. Mortuary Science is a four year degree, and since I already have my college degree, I'll need to just do the prerequisites and then one year of the "official" mortuary science classes. The plan is to be ready to enter the U of M in the fall of 2009.

I am excited because the day I walk into the classroom my dreams turns from an "I'm going to" into an "I am." I'm nervous because this time around I know how much work college is--that they're serious about that 2-3 hours of studying per class hour. Excited to learn new things. Nervous that I might get a B. Excited to show off how smart I am. Nervous that I might think I'm smarter than I actually am.

Either way, at the end of the day it's the classes that will help lead me closer to my goal. If it's not meant to be, I'll find that out and I'll be better for the experience. If it is meant to be, and I believe it is, I'll succeed and my hard work will pay off.