Girl Anachronicles

¡Tan dramática! Pero no miento: el “abismo” es ese hoyo negro llamado “maestría”, la cual comienzo este semestre que viene. 30 de agosto: esa es la fecha en la cual la academia me va a tragar.

…aunque ya me tiene tragada. Hacía tiempo no actualizaba en el blog, y la única excusa (mala) que puedo ofrecer es que he estado más pendiente a los asuntos de la matrícula que otra cosa. Ha sido un poco sobrecogedor por las siguientes circunstancias:

- Yo recibo exención de matrícula gracias a que mi pareja trabaja en la UPR

- La fecha límite para someter la solicitud de exención para el próximo semestre era a finales de julio.

- La fecha en la cual yo habría de hacer mi matrícula sería el 10 de agosto – esto debido a que soy estudiante de “nuevo ingreso” en cursos graduados. Nos recibieron con orientación y toda la cosa, y obviamente con recomendaciones acerca de los cursos a tomarse en el primer semestre. Podía hacer mi prematrícula, pero no necesariamente iba a hacer el mejor escogido.

- Intenté orientarme con el personal del Departamento de Traducción, y me dieron un ‘la’ acerca de los cursos que debía tomar. Intenté hacer prematrícula antes de la fecha estipulada, y ¡claro! de los 3 cursos que quería tomar, uno salía cerrado. El detalle es que todos los cursos que voy a tomar deben aparecer prematriculados cuando voy a someter la solicitud de exención. Si no aparecen en la pantalla whatever-they-call-it, no otorgan la exención. Si sometía la solicitud con cursos de más (preemptive strike), tampoco me otorgaban la exención. Estaba en un impasse con el sistema.

- Pero hablando se entiende la gente: la oficial de Beneficios Marginales en el Departamento de Recursos Humanos me dijo que, dado mi caso, llevara la solicitud de exención tan pronto lograra hacer mi matrícula, que ellos la trabajarían con prontitud.

De todos modos, la incertidumbre (que ha lugar, porque el sistema administrativo de la UPR ha demostrado ser de todo menos eficiente) me tenía los nervios roídos. Asistí a la orientación, me pompié con el prospecto de empezar el camino hacia mi nueva carrera, solicité matrícula para los cursos que había escogido… luego llevé la solicitud de exención … y “color me surprised”, ¡la exención bajó en cuestión de un día! Tengo todos mis cursos y no tuve que pagar sino cuotas de mantenimiento y tecnología. ¡Hurra!

Así se ve mi programa de clases:

Voy a estar tomando Sintaxis de español, Conceptos Básicos de Traducción, y Semiótica … la última es la que me tiene especialmente nerviosa. Sé lo que es la semiótica, y sé que una clase equivalente (en la facultad de Comunicación) logró reducir a Ezequiel a las lágrimas (casi … sí, exagero un poco).

De todos modos: ¡9 créditos! Whoohoo! Voy a estar hasta las cachas en lecturas. Lunes, miércoles y jueves han sido arrestados por mi deseo de hacer una maestría. Wouldn’t have it any other way…

Ahora, hay poco wishlist para este semestre (aparte de la costosa Gramática Española de la RAE, que cuesta un ojo de la cara y abarca dos hermosos volúmenes. Y un carnoso diccionario de etimología, sólo porque sí). Pero lo que me tiene la cabeza comida es esto:

Un nuevo bolígrafo de Sharpie: Liquid Pencil. Espero que no sea tan mierda como el Eraser Mate de los ’80… pero si escribe tan bonito como un lápiz (lo que me enseñan en la foto es más o menos eso) … bueno, definitivamente está en mi To Shop List. Sólo falta que salga. (Tanta cosa por un BOLIGRAFO)

BTW:

GOOD NEWS, EVERYONE!

¡Aprendí a hacer arroz! Para aquéllos que me conocen bien, probablemente les corre un “¡Por fin, puñeta!” por la mente. Pues les cuento que efectivamente, por fin. Y aparentemente, me queda muy bueno. Ya he hecho arroz con cebolla y tocineta (ése fue el primero, con la ayuda y guía de Eze), arroz blanco, arroz con coco y arroz jasmín. ¡Enhorabuena!

…yyy, para mi familita que en ocasiones vive en nostalgia por las artes culinarias de mamá (y que todavía no nos ponemos de acuerdo a ver quién se aprende cuál receta), les cuento que también hice hoy, por primera vez, el fabuloso bizcocho de ron. Yup, Bacardi Rum Cake, que acaba de perder – a mis manos – todo el caché de los ’60 porque lo hice con Ron Barrilito y Palo Viejo. ^_^ Bizcocho de ron pa’ la recesión del nuevo milenio. Luego les cuento cómo quedó.

I think it was precisely ten years ago that I gave up the tradition of making resolutions for the new year. I think I must’ve figured it was a stupid waste of energy. Habits are diamond-hard to break: an overnight party and champagne binge will not change that, neither will a change in the calendar year.

So, New Year’s Eve turned for me into a contemplation of milestones. Like watching a movie recap, I look back on all things achieved and changed during the course of the past year. Serves no purpose but to think.

Most people are convinced that this year marks the end of the decade (poor misguided souls!): a mistaken perception, since decades change over when year number 1 starts – not year zero. So it comes to pass that people start reminiscing, not only about the past year, but also about the past ten years. Most social networks online get filled with small fragments of memories: travels, piercings, graduations, jobs… and then I thought about it too. What was I doing 10 years ago? And it hit me like a stone.

Ten years ago, May 1999 to be precise, I graduated from college with a BA in commercial administration, ready and committed to work for an IT company. I immediately was sent on my first work trip, and immediately proceeded to “fall in love” with the first Costa Rican boy that batted his pretty lashes at me. Going to bed with him was just a matter of a few nights, some alcohol and a smattering of gallant words.

Ten years ago, September 2009, I aborted his baby. I learned a few things: 1 – this career was not the career I wanted, 2 – I had no intention of being a single mother, 3 – not all men who treat you kindly and say pretty words will actually be good men. I also realized that during my college years, I had become what my career required me to become, not who I actually was. I quit my job the day after my abortion. Business suits and pump shoes were put away.

Ten years ago, October 1999, I got my first retail job. I learned that I loved retail. I learned that retail doesn’t earn enough to keep.

Ten years ago, December 1999, I had my best Christmas ever. In spite of the horrid abortion I had just had (and the immediate sense of regret, the tears always at the ready in my eyes), my family proved to be everything I needed. This was the year I learned that I had a home again, even if my parents were divorced, even if my heart was breaking. Family was my fallback pillow. Family was my womb.

At the present, I am currently following the academic path I would have chosen in 1995 if my father hadn’t offered his advice filled with common sense. In the meanwhile, I’m working in retail again, after almost 10 years working on my BA career. I tried time and again to make it right, but the heart knows best: this was not the career I wanted. I knew by 1999. Ten years did not change that.

I miss my family to the point of tears. My father and his wife, who housed me in infinite warmth in 1999, now live in Orlando, FL. I will be visiting them in 2 weeks. My brother, who in 1999 was my partner in crime and advisor, now lives in Chicago, IL. I don’t know when I’ll see him again. My stepbrother and stepsisters all live in different places, some have their own children now… The family is fragmented. The love is still there.

… and ultimately, I chose not to have children. Had I had my way shortly after the abortion, I would have had a “guilt baby”. Destiny chose otherwise then. I’ve come to keep making that choice lately. I’m not sorry for my decisions.

My life has been product of those decisions.

So, 2010 will not magically bring new clarity or abundance into my life. It’s just a milestone. Here’s to hoping I get many more of those. May I lead an interesting life.

(yes, I just cursed myself)

Last post on this blog: May 12th

I think it was about time I put down my virtual red pen, shoved aside the text books for a moment, and sat down to write something of my own.

Summer drained me. A mere few weeks after my last entry, I plunged myself into the world of “being an art teacher”. This world demands your full load of patience, and then some. I think all teacher worlds demand this, mind you, and teachers that love what they do earned my undying admiration.

I was art teacher for a month in a summer camp. The main objective of the camp was for kids to practice their English in a fun way, they said. The art activities didn’t have to be particularly complex or farfetched, they said. What they didn’t say was:

- Kids expect innovation/newness at every single fucking turn. You can’t have them coloring paper with crayons two days in a row, they’ll go crazy!

Watercolors again!?!?!? MAN!!!!

- Art supplies are freakin’ expensive. And this particular school was very skeptical about giving me free rein of their art supplies (which are used specifically for summer camp, since they don’t have art class in the school year curriculum … those paints and glitter and glue bottles have been sitting there for years!)

- Kids can’t really be kids … they can’t run, they can’t jump, they can’t skip. Otherwise, they might fall, and godforbiftheyfallthey’ll SUE US! Jeezus! This was the attitude at te beginning of the day, at the end of it, and oh lordy lord! LUNCH TIME. Lunch.Time.Was.HELL!!!

Can't run, can't walk, can't scream, can't talk...

- I’d be having lunch with the same group assigned to me the hour before lunch. Which meant two full hours with the same group. Which turned out to be the biggest group (20). Of 7 -9 year old BOYS. Who ate in a flash. And couldn’t go anywhere else after they ate their lunch. Guess what they did in those remaining 45 minutes. … I’ll let your imagination do the rest.

Fit this inside a small classroom. Yeah. That.

… so, by the end of June, I was happy to the point of tears that the whole ordeal was over. I remembered summer camp work quite differently. I guess different camps work different ways. Sometimes bigger IS better.

The one thing that kept me going and going and going through all those days of feeling subhuman was the notion that I was flying off to see Dad on that very last day of camp. Ohhhh, it was worth it! Thank you, Eze!

I visited Dad during a Father’s Day weekend: it was a flurry of activity, trying to make all the hours last. I’ll always say I wish I had him nearby, but after seeing him and Martha and Felipe carry on with their lives over there, I realized they’ve pretty much found their groove … even if it’s a poor groove. They’re comfy. And their house smells like wood, and apple-cinnamon, and Christmas, and home I wish it was nearer …

The rest of summer went by way too fast, I think. Most days were spent looking out the window, wondering why my work schedule was so funky that they always put me in during evenings or closing shifts. At least work is still going strong, and I still like it. I think, however, that I could have made better use of my time during summer, I dunno. It was over in a flash.

And now, August-December semester is here (my favorite: it’s plagued with a smattering of holidays, the occasional strike, and unexpected tropical storms and hurricanes). I’m only  taking one class, and thankfully! I thought it would be easier, but gosh, this professor is driving nails down my temper’s blackboard! I have my first test tomorrow, and for the first time in a long while, my nerves are on edge.

During this semester I’ve also gotten timidly involved in the revamping/overhaul/let’s-get-this-shit-running of FrecuenciasAlternas.com … as an editor (hence, the virtual red pen). I’ve kept sewing what I sew, and then some more: I took Grandma’s sewing machine, wiped the dust and cockroach eggs off, and put it to good use. My wardrobe is growing again, thanks to this wonderful machine and the magnanimous generosity of a few friends (Maricarmen, Lynnie, thank you!).

This summer's masterpiece: McCartney & Yellow Submarine

… and now holidays are getting nearer, starting off with my favorite: Halloween … which my colleagues say won’t be my favorite no mo’ because it gets all fucked up in a jiffy at the store. I don’t doubt it: Hot Topic is one of the very few costume outlets in this island. If you can’t find your sexy fireman outfit with us, where can you? No, we don’t have sexy firemen outfits … dude, get a freaking red g-string and a heavy duty hose at Sears, jeezus!

So, catch me ’round the bend. I’m pretty sure I’ll be covered head to toe in repurposings and hemming-ins ^_^

Semester is ending, and the fact that I haven’t posted here regularly has been nagging me like a tiny fly in the back of my mind. Some would say that school is to blame for the lack of blogging, but in my case, I think it may be Twitter.:-/ Microblogging killed regular blogging. Sad.

I have 2 final exams to contend with: I’m not quite ready for either, and being sick (again!) hasn’t helped much. I’ve missed more classes these past few weeks than I did the rest of the semester. Bad move on my part, but I couldn’t help it. However, I’m confident I’ll be able to pull through and pass both courses with good grades.

Another time-consumer has been Fotutos y Cuchufletes: my latest project – I’d say my first organized and money-making project. It’s been slow on the takeoff, but I’ve received great feedback mostly. On Monday, I’ll be taking the merch out for a spin at an artisan’s faire in the Hospital del Maestro in Hato Rey. We’ll see if that can help me gather up enough funds to pay for the car and the marbete this month.

There’s also the arrival of the cat, Gallifrey. Two weeks and a half ago, a kitten crossed my path, quite literally, to results very similar to Caprica’s. He had his eyes entirely covered with secretions due to conjunctivitis and couldn’t see where he was going, so he ended up crawling up a truck’s tire. He could have died, but instead he burst into my life with his toilet-paper-wasting ways. He’s much better now (conjunctivitis is gone, his respiratory tract infection is still being taken care of, and stomach parasites have been erradicated!), and making our lives more … interesting.

So, summer is arriving and it looks promising, to say the least. Possibilities of a summer job have arised, let’s see if they materialize. If they do, I’ll have the strangest job in my life yet, and it will most probably be fun too. No more details until I know for sure.