VisuaLife

William Fitzsimmons


The Shamrock


Game of Darts


BFF... Jenna, Torre, Rachel, me.


Nolan


Shabbat


Graduation Party: Marjorie, Molly, me and Sam


Graduation with Siblings


Graduation with the book that changed my life.

rabbinate

"I believe in worship"

A woman sat next to me in her yoga attire at a quant cafe near both our houses. She is older than I am, with grey, shoulder length hair and round speckled glasses. A Jewish woman, a poet, a resource- wealth of knowledge and spirit. She asked me questions yesterday about my life. What I studied, where I want to go and what I want to do, who I am. I was slightly nervous because she sat there, comfortable and successful; accomplished and secure. I sat there with my security shall wrapped around me, slurping hot chocolate; trying to appear that I had not spent the last two.five weeks in crisis. I said that I was torn between the pursuit of therapy (as a vocation) or scholarship. She asked me if I had ever considered the Rabbinate. I said yes. But the truth is no. It would be a combination of those two things. And I think I would flourish, because I, like her, believe in worship.



a thought arose like a high watered bay.
it provoked every inch of security.
the cold shriveled her hands and the sound deafed her ears.
while all was weeping silently.
her expression silently teared.

Day 4

When missionaries abroad come back to the States for furlough, or whatever, they are prepared. It's called debrief. They are taught to remember that the home they are returning to is the same, and will bring shock because the individual has changed quite drastically.

Mothers are prepared for a little something called postpartum depression. The anticipation of a child, prepping the room, prepping your heart, etc... Then you bring home the bundle of joy and it cries. It needs you. You are objectified by a thing that cannot speak nor can it talk. And you don't want to feed it. You don't want to nourish your own body, etc...

So here's my question: why doesn't anyone tell you about post-graduation blues? It's a real thing. And it sucks.

I've applied to two jobs this week. I made it out of the house to visit one friend. I went shopping. And I've thought about getting another tattoo. I make breakfast, but refuse to do the dishes. I take the dog (housesitting) on walks, but it's mostly because he gives me the saddest looks.

I am bored. I am sooo bored. I am ugly and frustrated. I want to move. I want to travel. I want to want to clean and be pretty. This is going to be a hard summer...

the days roll, roll away like wheels on jack's hill

It's midnight. Between Tuesday and Wednesday.
Thursday my second thesis is due.
Friday I have two papers due.
The last two papers.

And then I get to meet up with my sister and her bf.
Grocery shopping. Meet up with the rest of the family.
Shabbat dinner. The next morning, clean and
set up for party. Get into my robe and gown.
And walk. Walk.

It's in four days.

the annex. again.

I am here. Surrounded by two hundred young people who are studying hard. Some take smoke breaks. Others take facebook breaks. Still others sleep with their heads nestled against their laptop.

My break consists of this blog.

For some strange reason, it is this space that I have created as a safe place. No one leaves comments anymore- but that is a very good thing. It's for me. Not for you (sorry Natalie and mom). It's a place that I can check and recheck and write and rewrite and there is no grade. No determination of worth here.

Recently, someone said to me that no matter what grades I get this semester, my worth to them will not change. Their love for me will not diminish. Even if I lose the honor-status that I carry. I bought my gold chain today. The tassel that adorns the robe one wears when they graduate. They call me a distinguished student. I think it's full of shit. But I am doing it. I already did it. I already spent countless nights procrastinating and freaking out about papers and assignments, etc. I am almost finished doing that.

Tonight is the exception. I am sitting here, in my beloved annex-fake-library writing the first draft of a 15 page paper which is due tomorrow at 8:45 am. I am sitting here, with six pages down, not freaking out. A MIRACLE, I know. I am enjoying every second of it actually. I enjoy birthing sentences and listening to the rustling of keyboards type, type, type away.

I can't go home tonight. So, I might as well be settled. The last bus left five minutes ago. I am stuck. I suppose I could call someone on campus, but why not spend the night on a dirty two seater couch in a hot, bug infested room? I won't have to do this for a very long time, why not relish in it.

So that is my resolution- the last week of classes; the week before finals, exactly ten days until I turn in my last paper of the semester; I will not stress out. I will not yell at anyone (an embarrassing history), nor will I pity myself. Instead, here now, I pledge to myself that I, Malka which means queen, will enjoy her last moments of an undergraduate.

Annex as my witness.

ema

To my mother. Who moves mountains. Who loves deeply. Who listens well. Who prays with expectation. Who laughs without inhibition. Who gives abundantly. Who smiles widely; and who seeks peace in all situations.

Days of the Week...

Day 1: (humanities) ready for the week.


Day 2: (science) notice I am wearing the exact same outfit.


Day 3: (annex) too embarrassed to show the same shirt/scarf combo again.


Day 4: (bedroom) attacked.