Drink of the Night: In-Heat Wheat

I’m very much a beer fan to the point where I had to cut back because I was gaining a gut and didn’t have the time or energy to go run it off (so…. I switched to gin and burbon depending on the temp outside and the mood of the night). I took a substance abuse class that was required by school and felt bad because not only was I bartending, but I advocate being able to drink in moderation. Most of my clientele were professionals who work hard and play just as hard. It seemed the norm to me that to be able to function properly in this adult world, you had to learn how to drink or at least attend social functions with alcohol. Now I work in a liquor store which is akin to being a dope dealer to some. I don’t usually handle drunks, and people take their liquor home to enjoy on their own terms. Although people are doing damage to their bodies, my say is that unless it’s a problem and as long as you’re not bothering anyone… do as you please.

I’m not going any further than that. It can be a long, drawn out discussion.

The guys I work with, while being absolutely hilarious, are big beer guys. Since I started this blog, I figured I’d diverge every now and then and accumulate some info on what I drink when I’m writing. It helps with the creative process, for me. Loosens me up, keeps me from thinking too hard about what I’m writing/drawing and just lets it flow. I haven’t been able to do that since I started art school and every line and every mark was overanalyzed to oblivion.

That being said. Meet In-Heat Wheat. It’s a hefewizen, which I don’t always usually do. It’s a little light for my tastes, but it’s a great summer beer. The artwork is the familiar fantastic work of Ralph Steadman. Check out the website. I forewarn, I have no real sense of smell therefore I have a piss poor sense of taste. It’s citrus is enough for me to pick up. If you want more reviews, I’ll direct you to some other beer snobs to do that for me at BeerAdvocate. Just click on “In-Heat Wheat” for more details.

Thinking about Grad School

So, although online schooling has been really good for me (the classes are 8 weeks long, I have unlimited time on many of my tests, etc.), I’ve run into some interesting problems. Thinking about graduate school, I’m at a loss as to what to do, where to go, what path I should take, etc. And it’s not like traditional school where I can show up at my advisor’s door and talk to someone. Matter of fact, it presents and interesting quandary in getting to know my professors. I can’t partake in any of their research from here, and the interaction is through a computer, so they can’t really know me, my work pretty much has to speak for itself. I’m still trudging through some basic classes (statistics, applied psych, research methods) and haven’t really gotten into “the meat” of my studies (psychology and law, principles of community advocacy, etc.). I can’t wait. But now, what do I do about finding a mentor? Getting letters of recommendation? Other perks that come with meeting face to face with a professor. I didn’t think about that one.

Taking a break

The good thing about taking a course online is generally (sometimes) you can take a test with no time limit. Which helps me out a lot because during traditional schooling I would get so distracted sitting in a classroom with everyone else taking an exam and consequently would fail or just not do as well. As of right now I’m two questions shy of finishing my final exam in applied psychology. Needless to say, the last two questions are the last two that I wanted to answer. Having a hard time stringing words together to form a coherent response.

I went out for the first time last night in this town. We had a lot of fun even at the rinky dink little hole-in-the-wall bar. I ran into a coworker as he was leaving. All he could really comment on was how tall I was. Of course my sister and I decked out like we were going out in Atlanta, which is what we’re used to. I had a lady come up to me and comment on how beautiful I looked. Self-esteem isn’t my strong suit and taking complements has been a work-in-progress. My sister laughingly recalled the next day that she probably scared the woman off. I think the lady was well into inebriated to really count — she made a point to say that she wasn’t gay, which really doesn’t bother me. I tell women they’re beautiful all the time. Sometimes that’s really what a lady needs to hear (unless they hear it too much, in which case you can usually tell and avoid them altogether). I enjoy going to small-town pubs because no one really cares, everyone is out to have a good time and is dressed as they wish. In Atlanta, the scene got old quick because everyone was trying to look too cute to have any fun. That’s the city for you though.

Second Job!

After some hounding, I finally got a second job. Actually, they lost my application after I gave it to an employee (big mistake), I waited too long after talking to one manager to follow up on whether/not I was gonna get the job, then I finally got to talk to someone else. She told me to come back Tuesday (today) at one p.m. and when I got there, they told me I should come in at two p.m. because there isn’t a manager until then. As I showed up at 2p.m., someone was walking outside and (rudely) asked what I wanted and that the hiring manager wasn’t there today, she doesn’t know why they told me to come at two. She told me to wait inside and she’d text someone. Finally someone came to talk to me and they hired me. I don’t know if it was out of pity or what, but I kept a smile on my face and kept it moving.

I hate menu tests. I don’t get to really know the food until I interact with it, until then it’s just a jumbled up mess in my head. But I want to get ahead, so I started trying to memorize the menu.

Now, the fun starts. Figuring out how to work my scheduling.

So excited! The bulbs we got in the mail a few months back are shooting up and blooming!

Our first tomato of the season. He wasn’t very big, but he was very flavorful.

Lots of downtime, lots of time to study

Everything seems to happen for a reason. After a few months, I finally got a routine down with work and school when I was in Atlanta. Much of my down time was spent reading, because the courses went by extremely quickly. Eight weeks means one to two chapters a week and anyone who’s ever tried reading a textbook knows how difficult getting through even one chapter can be difficult. I had to get my study habits in order, especially since my new medications were affecting my memory.

In high school I never really had to study. Time spent in class was time enough, and I wasn’t serious about anything, either. So when I got to college, I really struggled trying to meet my past expectations of performance. When I didn’t perform well, I got depressed and down on myself. Plus, there were so many other things I wanted to do, namely, anything but study. A lot of my time spent on my science degree was spent doing art, a lot of my time doing art I spent a lot of time working. I was traipsing through school with no clear goal in mind, just trying to exist at the minimum, so I wasn’t set to sit down and do anything. 

When I first got to Oklahoma, I quickly found myself failing my classes again. I was doing well until the move, where my schedule was completely thrown off. Then I found a job an hour away, so much of my time was spent commuting and at work. I thought I could listen to my lectures on the way to work, but it required too much work to get my iPod hooked in my car and get the short lectures going. I had absolutely no downtime at work. I was off my medications and couldn’t establish a set schedule to sleep because my manager – even through much arguing – was still scheduling me on back-to-back shifts.

After visiting my parents, when I was finally at my breaking point, I came home to no job. They’d lost my leave paperwork and I was quickly terminated. Now I had no choice but to get to know my textbook. Even with a part-time job, where I’m there maybe 18 hours a week, I still spend much of my time on my textbook. My study skills have changed dramatically. I read a chapter straight through, highlighting, then go back through it and take hand-written notes. I’ve gotten to know myself well. Typing is much like inactively reading, for me. I skim over concepts in order to get them typed down and they don’t stick in my head. Then I rewrite my chicken scratch as neatly as possible. By this time I’ve gone over the chapter three times. Sigh. I don’t know how I’ll make that work in grad school, or when I go back to two classes at a time.

 Needless to say, with all my extensive downtime, I have plenty of time to get ahead in class. I’m a slow reader and it takes me a few times to read and re-read a paragraph because I’m constantly spacing out. I don’t know if that’s my medication or if that’s just me, but I’ve started to adjust accordingly.

 Bright colored pens and highlighters help too. ^_^! 

Being an online student

I started out going to school in the traditional way. Actually, I didn’t really want to go to college right out of high school because I had so little “life” experience. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, I didn’t know what path I wanted to take. So, I took a scholarship and went to college, and flailed around (and failed around) until I found something that stuck. It wasn’t until I finally got the courage to take a year off that I figured out what I needed to do. 

I enjoy going to school online. It’s flexible with my schedule and if I want to move to another state, I can take it with me. The only shortcomings is trying to figure out things like internships and interacting with one’s professors. There’s no “I’m really interested in what you discussed in lecture the other day…” Actual professors from FIT give the lectures, which is interesting, but they’re highly structured and you’re actually being moderated by a different entity. I couldn’t fathom being a professor and keeping up with students who can come by your office and ones that are in different states, so it seems appropriate to have a different moderator (usually a graduate student). 

Right now I’m thinking about what I need to do in order to prepare myself for my master’s/doctorate. I’ve reached out to my advisor for advice. I’m excited about getting involved in something. 

When you don’t know where you’re going…

…any road will get you there.

I’m 28 years old and I’m still working BS jobs trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life, not going anywhere, not doing anything. Ten/twelve years ago, everyone would’ve said I’d be this, that, and the other. I had a plan. Sort of. I had a very obscure, childish, pie-in-the-sky plan, and (to be honest) I still hold onto it. I’m just getting there in a different way.

I don’t regret a lot of the decisions I’ve made. I should. They’ve made me who I am today though. I’ve learned a lot, talked to a lot of people, and been through some things that have been “check, done it, now I can say I did it. Move on.”

I thought psychology was just the degree the other girls went and got when they couldn’t hack it in biology (which is what a lot of girls were doing), back during my freshman year. How naive. I should’ve known this is what I wanted to study. It’s just as challenging as biochemistry, just in a whole different way. Everyone thought art was a BS degree. My boyfriend during my second year of college found out quickly that it wasn’t an “easy A.” I had a conversation today with a fellow artist at work. Art is emotionally draining. It can suck the life right out of you and spit you out in a ball of — (flails to find a good comparison, and fails). You’re constantly critiqued, constantly pressured to create, and yes, only the few survive. I gave up. I threw everything out, I locked everything up, I never wanted to draw again after four years of art school and an all out argument with the head of the Graphic Design department over my BFA portfolio submission that “illustration was dead.”  Then I’m dead. Then everything I love to do is gone. The art world is not for the light of heart. I chunked my portfolio in the garbage can outside the art school sliding doors and never looked back.

This was a sign that I was meant to be elsewhere.

I’m studying forensic psychology now, planning on getting into one of those joint J.D./Ph.D. programs that so few colleges offer. That would be ultimate.