the pros of prose

I just logged on to poetry.com and was planning on composing a little PIM to post here (surprise, surprise), but I was very troubled to find that the website has completely changed, and the Poetry in Motion feature (the only good part of poetry.com) is nowhere to be found! I am very sad about this.

BUT. Maybe that means it's time to write something else in here. I really do miss the days when I wrote my experiences and thoughts in here. Somehow, when pieces of my life are recorded, they feel more real...like I have not fully experienced something until I have adequately reflected on it. And, clearly, reflection has been lacking, at least in any sort of concrete way.

I certainly can't make up for the whole academic year of stuff that has happened, but maybe if I do a quick re-cap, I will be able to get back into the groove.

So. I'm in graduate school in counseling psychology, so that's what constitutes the largest portion of my time. I'm doing well, but it's not the sort of challenging, exhilarating experience that school used to be. I didn't realize just how much I love learning until last semester. I was so excited to be a student again, but I didn't feel like I was learning anything new, and it was very frustrating. I've had moments of actually wishing that I were less intelligent or that I had not been so well prepared by my undergrad experiences. I'm regularly jealous of people who are struggling to grasp new stuff. It sounds weird, but it's kind of sad, really. The weirdest thing about is it that I really have never felt this way before. I've always been smart and a good student, but I was always happy with what I was learning and felt like my teachers/professors had something great to offer me--that I would benefit from their guidance and wisdom. Now, it's more like "I just have to get through this so I can do what I want to do," and I don't like that at all. Maybe I'm just disillusioned with academic nonsense, or maybe I've just become a self-righteous and arrogant snob. Probably both.

And my snobbery comes into play at my assistantship too, because I have to deal with being disrespected and demeaned on a regular basis (not by my boss, just to clarify--she loves me). I can deal with it a lot better now than I did at first, but there are still rough days.

It's not all bad, really. I like the people in my program very much, and I don't know what I would do without my "best Mississippi friend," Natalie. And my weeks are bearable because I spend them looking forward to weekends, which I spend with my beloved Alexander, usually at his house on the coast. It's funny how we rarely saw each other before we moved here but miss each other MORE now. The more time I spend with him, the more sure I am that I want to spend more and more of my time with him. His house, and our relationship there, feels much more like home to me than my apartment in Hattiesburg or my role as a grad student. The disconnect between the two is hard, but the one makes the other all worth it.

I've also gotten involved in a small group at the church I go to when I'm in Hattiesburg, and while I haven't been particuarly stimulated by the books we've read, I really enjoy the fellowship. Even though I tend to be a loner, I've always found it essential to be part of a community of believers, and I'm grateful to have found that.

Despite the list of complaints here, I really am happy. It's just that I feel such a strong conviction that I will be happier. The best is yet to come.