Graduate school

Well, I got a letter from ISU today. It was one of those response letters letting you know whether you were going to be accepted or not. I know I had a great GPA, and some great letters of recommendation. I even had the head of the psychology department urging me to do it. My GRE scores sucked, however. I remember crying all the way home from LeGrande Oregon because I only got low 500s on both the qualitative and quantitative. And I procrastinated for a long time. I guess I just wasn't sure this was something I could do. I just wasn't sure I deserved it. I was wrong. I got accepted! That's right! I got a letter today congratulating me, informing me that I was chosen for the program. I was also chosen to get a teaching assistantship in which my tuition was paid, I have health coverage, and I will be paid a little over $9000/yr for being a teaching assistant for 20 hours a week!

To be honest, I was really surprised at how excited I was. It was just Monday night that I was dragging my butt from store to store looking for french combs (with no success) thinking about this job I have. I have clients I love and some that break my heart. But even on my best week (last week) I only got in 34 hours - and that was definitely a fluke. This week, I already have 4 hours of cancelled appointments, so no 30 hr week this week. I was thinking that I really wasn't getting anything for going to school and working so hard. I was kicking myself for not working harder to study the math part of the gre. I thought I knew that stuff well enough - but I didn't. And my daughter is in Boise, and I miss her. It was one of those doldrum moments that feels like it will never pass.

Then Megan called when I got home, she missed me too. We started talking about foster kids and parents and how the experience I am getting now really helps me to see things from all perspectives. The only people who really lose are the kids. No matter what - even when things turn out for the best, the children are the ones who have to pay the piper. They learn a set of behaviors in one place, have to learn new behaviors in another, and then often in more places. People say children are resilient. Damn it sucks when they have to be. Some day, I would really like to be a foster parent. I think I'd be good at it. I'd take the really hurt children. I'd help them work through the pain.

But I digress. When I got the letter the congratulations didn't even register at first. I had to read more of the letter to actually get what it was saying. I starting jumping up and down and screaming, and running around the house. I was all alone of course. This feels so right for me! I didn't even know how much I had let myself want this.

Just think, I can have my master's before Terry Devereaux gets up for parole! Oh, I didn't tell you about Jacob Vasques! He was up for parole last month and didn't get it. I didn't even send in a statement about him or anything and he didn't get it. That was reassuring. It means Terry probably doesn't have a snowballs chance.

But I digress. I am going to graduate school. I feel really happy and hopeful right now. Self soothing techniques work pretty well when I am stressed, but oh they feel so sweet when I am happy. And I had some good news last week too, just not quite as unexpectedly happy. The house my dad was building passed its last inspection. I can start moving in any time I'm ready. It is such a nice house too. I will have an art studio downstairs right next to the exercise room. There are two bedrooms downstairs. Right now, one will be set up as a guest room for when Megan and Steve and future children come to visit. The other will likely be a storage room where I will put a freezer and stuff like that. And shelves so that my dad and I can stack junk up to the ceiling.

But I digress. This post is supposed to be about acceptance into graduate school, not about apricots getting ripe in the back yard right now (Megan), or neighbors down the street yelling at their kids to stop it right now (they need psr), or getting out of this stinking back stabbing feud ridden neighborhood, or finding the french comb I did have, or anything else like that.

It's about getting accepted into graduate school. Oh yeah! It's sweet. I'm going now.