Overheard and out of context...

From an evening out at a bar... with my professors...

"Are...you... ON A TRAIN?!?!"
"Oh, him? We just call him f*ck face..."
"Let's drunk dial criminologists."
"Sherman? Eck? Wiesburd? They're my b!tches."
"This is grad school. You get drunk, then go teach class. Trust me, now one will notice..."
"Happy birthday, @sshole."
"You  want a lemon drop? Don't be a biznatch."
"Dude, some of the bitches here can out drink you."
"I'm not here to be equal to the patriarchy, I'm here to overthrow it... are you going to finish those nachos?"

And this isn't even the best of them... those are... well... better left unsaid.

Maybe my life doesn't suck as much as I thought...

Moment of Joy

For some reason this picture just tickled my fancy. It makes me smile for so many reasons!

My mom still will catch my bare feet and play piggies with me. And the picture itself... that little piggy nose! That impossibly tiny puppy! It's sweet with a touch of sarcasm.

I hardly know what I want more: a BLT or my own micro-piglet.

Crockpot Beef Stew

Rabbit Rabbit!

My maternal grandfather, Papa, has always been an inspiration to me; my earliest memories of him are in the kitchen, tasting whatever he was cooking. There is no meal in the world more delectable than Papa's broccoli-rabe, beef stew and his own invention, potato pie. My offhanded, handful of  this, handful of that cooking style is a direct result of watching him throw whatever is on hand into a pot and creating something spectacular.

My quest into graduate school is also inspired by him. When I was little I was slightly awed by him and how he can talk about any subject with authority. He tells the most incredible stories about his childhood, time in the Navy, career as a police officer and everything in between. When I was in college and studying the court system he'd lend be books on Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes and landmark Supreme Court decisions. His passion for learning and desire for me to get the best education possible is one of the main reasons I went to grad school.

Consider this improvised beef stew recipe as an ode to Papa and a learning experience!

Crockpot Beef Stew
1 pound of cubed beef stew meat (or more if desired)
4 large potatoes
4 cloves garlic, chopped or pressed
1 tbs paprika (I don't have it on hand and usually substitute with taco seasoning)
2 tbs soy sauce (or Worcestershire)
1 onion, chopped
1 1/2 cups beef broth (or whatever, bullion and water works, too)
1 cup wine (red or white, you pick)
2 carrots, cut into sticks (or chopped in a food processor to save you time)
1/3 cup brown sugar
1 cup homemade tomato sauce (or 4 chopped fresh tomatoes)
Grind to a Salt (have you noticed I love this stuff?)
Freshly ground black pepper
Some flour

Combine broth, wine, soy sauce, tomatoes, brown sugar, paprika, some seasoned salt and pepper in the slow cooker and set to high (4-6 hours cook time) or low (8-10 hours cook time) depending on when you want to eat.

Wash, peel and chop potatoes, carrots, onion and garlic. Throw them into the broth.

Take your stew meat and put it into a zip-lock bag. Sprinkle some flour over it and salt and pepper it a bit. Close the bag and give it a good shake to coat the meat (or, in the words of Weasel, "Shake it like a Polaroid picture!"). Throw this in the fridge for a few minutes while you drag out a frying pan and add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom on the pan and let the flame heat it up on high. Toss in the now coated meat and saute until nice and brown. It doesn't have to be cooked all the way, because  you will now throw it into the slow cooker with all the rest to continue cooked. Make sure the pot is covered, and walk away (cocktails, anyone?).

Enjoy!

Note: The measurements in this recipe are arbitrary. I usually just pour, sprinkle, toss and add according to my whim, what I have in the fridge, and what kind of flavor I am looking for. The beauty of this method? I have a base recipe I can work with, and I also have the freedom to experiment!

Best "Frenemies"... the Story of Toad

I think It's about time I introduced you to Toad. Looking back at my first semester a grad student, I have to say that all of the students in the criminal justice department are really unpretentious and down to earth. Everyone seems ready to talk to you, offer bits of advice, give you encouragement and repeat the mantra I've come to internalize: "You'll worry and you'll work hard, but in the end it's really not that bad."

Everyone is, if a bit reserved and private at first, really quite friendly. That it, everyone but Toad. Imagine, if you will, that stereotypical student of the White Tower, all theory and name dropping and high and mighty opinions. That's Toad, very full of himself and very quick to toot his own horn. He is best described, I suppose as a "frenemy," someone who you are polite and friendly to but secretly hate their guts. He is never outright rude or condescending to anyone, but everything about his manner, and every word that comes out of his mouth, says otherwise.For instance, he recently got a 97/100 on a presentation (during which he stopped every three seconds to refer to some professor's assistance or flatter himself with false modesty) . He turns to me and says, "Oh, well, you know. Not too bad. I don't think there'll be any grades higher. No such thing as perfection." He says all of this, of course, just as I am about to get up an present. So, no pressure or anything.

I like to think I handled this very well. I nodded and made some kind of noncommittal noise in response. I then got up, gave me presentation (which I practiced with Super boy easily 10 times) and, lo and behold!, I am handed my rubric with a large 100/100 written on it with several glowing comments. Being the bigger person, I put the paper in my purse and didn't say anything about it to anyone, but in my head I was whooping with joy.

This is just one example of his behavior. Apparently, I am not the only one to notice or be annoyed by this constant barage of offhanded compliments/insults. Others have approached me with similar gripes; in fact, one of these conversations lead to Toad's epithet. A few fellow disgruntled grad students, all fed up with his references to "Dr. So-and So" and "special projects" and "independent research," tried to analyze the root of this behavior. One student put it brilliantly, referring to a species of toad in his native country; this toad, rather puny and insignificant, will puff itself up and hiss when it feel threatened by another frog and predator.  Following this line of thought, Toad then resorts to rattling off achievements and acquaintances and projects on order to make himself feel bigger than he really is and superior to the rest of us. This is very likely the truth of the matter; while no one else is so vulgar as to list our distinctions, Toad is in a cohort of scholars that have Phi Kappa Phi memberships, Phi Beta Kappa distinctions, teaching assistantships, scholarships and advanced degrees.  Maybe he is inflating his ego to keep up.

I, however, have some worries. Despite knowing the likely reasons for his behavior (insecurity) I still wonder if he is in fact better than me. Do the professors really buy his brown-nosing? Do they see through his flattery, or are they taken in by it? Is he ahead of the game by befriending so many professors and committing himself to so many projects, or is he spreading himself thin to no avail? Will his plan to schmooze every he can really get him ahead?

I don't know. I'd like to think I can compete with him. I have awards. And memberships. And, out of the entire cohort, the department practically begged me to join this program. I was the chosen one. I was the first in their eyes. And yet... I never tell anyone this.  I don't make this sort of information public to my peers. The rest of us are honest in our fears, share our concerns, open in our weaknesses. But Toad never shows weakness. He makes himself bigger than the rest of us and, while I know it's a ruse, I'm still intimidated.

I just wish I knew why, and how I could make it stop.

The Good, the Bad, and the Confusing

I hardly know where to begin. Just when I had resigned myself to playing the waiting game as grad schools considered my applications, everything has sped up to a frenetic pace. Suddenly so many things have changed that I hardly know whether to be ecstatic or devastated.

The first big chunk of news came last Monday. I was napping after a really, really long day at my internship when I got this phone call. Now, I usually just turn off my phone and let anyone who wants to talk to me leave a message, but I was with Super Boy at the time, and he has this weird theory about cell phones. When they ring, he answers. Or, in this case, pokes me in the ribs and makes me answer.

And then suddenly there is this graduate coordinator, a real big shot in the criminology community, asking me how I am, if I'm not too busy to talk for a bit, would I have a few minutes to spare. I think I mumbled something. He might be a criminal justice institution, but he woke me up. He'll just have to deal with me half conscious. And as I begin to full understand what is happened, I realize he is saying things like "very excited," "hugely impressed," "teaching assistantship," "Presidential Fellowship," and "full tuition." And, because I am an IDIOT, I interrupt him and say, "Wait… wait… I'm sorry. What was that? I don't… what? You mean I'm in? Seriously?"

I am such a tool.

But yes, not only was I in, I was being offered the world. Tuition, fees, a salary, a shot at a prestigious fellowship. Out of everyone who applied to the school, I was it. I was the one they wanted. I was the homegrown girl, the state born, bred and educated rising star (or so they said, I am still convinced they had the wrong number). The only downside here? There's a clock on the offer. I have until March 13^th. And it's creeping up very quickly.

Now, I applied to four schools. Two are very far away, but my mentor made me apply (they are the two best criminology programs in the nation, so I kind of had to try). The one I just heard from is my back up plan, a safety school that is still one of the top 5 (and the longest established program in the country). But my top choice… it's an Ivy. The only Ivy with a PhD program in criminology. And I want to go there so bad I could cry.

So… now the bad. And the confusing. With the clock ticking on a very attractive offer from my second choice of programs, I needed to ask my first choice what they were thinking. So (with lots of guidance from my mentor) I send an email inquiring as to my current status, if I was in, did they want to meet me, could they give me some kind of clue. Because you see, they don't tell students until March 15^th.

These deadlines are all a game. A test to see how bad you want an offer, how much you really want to go somewhere. I don't play games. Especially head games. So now I am caught in the middle of two schools and I have more questions than answers.

But I didn't get good news from the Ivy. In fact, I don't even know if I got bad news. All I got was a short, nebulous email that really said nothing at all. They said that there were "only two to three applications" they were looking at to see if they "fit available faculty mentoring." What does that even mean? There are only 3 people getting in? Am I one of them? Or are they talking about some kind of assistantship or fellowship? Are they just letting me down easy? I don't know what any of this means, and neither does anyone else I ask.

After waiting so long I suddenly have too much information. How could so much good news be so bad? And what do I do now?

The background story…

So some background information is probably in order. I am a twenty-something criminology major at a pretty selective state school in the mid-Atlantic region (no specifics here, folks). The department of criminology here is… volatile at best. Lots of regime changes, name changes and, I'll admit it, grandfathering in old to make life easier. Apparently I came in just as things began to get straightened out, and I really have thrived here. I have a great mentor, and I have done very well academically (dumb luck mostly). Suddenly I find myself about to graduate and desperately trying to throw together an exit strategy.

Considering I have been spending the majority of the past few months trying to get into PhD programs, I haven't actually searched for jobs. So there is no plan B if plan A falls through. Oops. And, because I am a sucker for punishment, I am also interning at state and federal organization (I'd tell you where, but then I'd have to kill you… no… really). Oh yeah, and I am on the campus EMS squad. And I get sucked into doing all kinds of extra things that are time consuming and make me want to pull my hair out.

So, hi. I'm rozzie bear, a walking ball of over-stressed and overbooked nerves.

But I am lucky in many respects. Firstly, I am pretty darn smart. Not by any real hard work, just good luck and good genes. So the whole grad school thing might be a real possibility. And I have a great family. They're all insane, of course. Family reunions, especially the big holidays, are more like feeding time on the psych ward. But they really are the most loving and supportive (if dysfunctional and gossipy) family around. I may say I'm the lone white sheep in a herd of black ones, but I say it with lots of love… most of the time…

And then there's Super Boy. Super Boy and I met on the first day of college and we have been friends ever since. About two years ago he and I finally got around to dating, and things have never been so good. I know, it sounds disgustingly saccharine. Can't help it though. Even on my worst days (and there are a lot of those) I've got Super Boy to cheer me up, keep me sane and keep me going. Without him I'd probably be even more of a mess than usual.

So there you go. That's me in a nutshell (emphasis on the nut)… So now I just have to figure out what happens next. I probably should do some research… or at least some homework. But no. I'd much rather nap. Oh well. So much for all that drive and ambition.