Ed.D Phase | The Scamp Abroad

The Scamp and a Repost

Posted on March 19, 2014 by erranteditor

This is a post that I wrote a year ago to the day. It still holds true, and it was written at a critical moment in my life, so rather than try to recreate the words, I am just going to share them again.

Today my grammy would have turned 75. I say would because she was killed in a car accident in 1996. She would never start her car until all of us had our seat belts on, but she herself refused to wear one. That choice ultimately cost her life.

While she battled many demons (drugs, weight and addictions) I was too young to know any of that, so to me, she was just my grammy. She was fun, told the best stories and had zebra print carpet in her TV room.

Frances Ann was only 20 when my mom was born. I’m not sure if it was hard for her or not, doing the single mom thing before she married my grandpa, but pictures like this make me think she did the best she knew how.

That adorable little creature is me circa 1988. It is clear that she loved being a grandma. Some of my favorite memories as a child involve swimming in her pool in Palm Springs or having milkshakes at Hamburger Hamlet. She was a horrible secret keeper and she used to ask Kelly (who is also a horrible secret keeper) to trade secrets about Christmas gifts with her (it usually worked).

I think this picture best sums up how I remember her. She never took that necklace off, she was always wearing big glasses, and she always smelled like Red Door. For awhile my mom had a garment bag that belonged to my grandma. I used to open it up because every time I did, it smelled like her. My mom finally got rid it when it stopped smelling of her.

One of my favorite memories of her was one weekend we spent in Palm Springs I got a horrible ear infection. While we were waiting in the emergency room, she drew a picture of me getting a shot in the butt with a very large needle. She had my brother and sister rolling, and had me in tears scared to death. I don’t know what happened to that picture, but I wish I still had it.

On the 15th anniversary of her death I got a showgirl tattooed on my back with her initials. My grammy loved Vegas, and loved to gamble, but the tattoo had to be a showgirl. One of my favorite pictures was one that she took on a weekend trip. It is a picture of her head superimposed on a showgirl’s body. She loved that photo and used to joke with people that that was her in a former life.

I spent the day eating a club sandwich, drinking a Coke and watching Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. It is a tradition that my family shares every year on this date. It is a tradition that I take comfort in, no matter where I am or how I am feeling. She may not have been perfect, but she was my grammy and I love her.

This day is hard for my mommy. Those of you that know her, give her a hug, or send her a text reminding her how amazing she is and how proud her mom would be of her.

The Scamp Gets Overwhelmed

Posted on March 13, 2014 by erranteditor

I’ve become THAT girl.

I’ve become that creepy girl that sits at the back of the room rocking and chewing on her hair.

Yesterday I imploded in the middle of class. One minute I was in class listening to book report presentations, and the next minute I was sobbing uncontrollably and hastily running out of my class before too many people noticed what was going on.

I cried for the next 40 minutes. I cried so hard I gave myself the hiccups. I cried on the phone with the boy, and while he was nice about it, it was not exactly what he should have been doing at 7 pm on a Tuesday. I was a mess. This has been building for months, and it sure chose the worst time to come through. I’m not exactly good with my feelings and emotions. I like to keep things bottled up and pretend that things don’t bother me when they do. For the last few months I have been trying to juggle three jobs, school, homework, a social life and the boy, and my juggling skills have finally run out.

There is a reason that the program told us at the beginning to not be in relationships, to take a sabbatical from work, and to kiss our social lives goodbye. This program sucks the life out of you. It will consume you. The reading, the studying, the writing, the prepping for the qualifying exam, and then for my dissertation….it never ends. I expected it. I knew that I would be busy, I knew that it would be hard, but to be in the middle of it now while trying to juggle other things. While the program was slowly sucking the life out of me, I let myself fall into old habits. The sucky thing is, when I get into these bouts of depression, I tend to ruin relationships. I can already feel myself doing that. Without insurance though, I cannot afford to see a doc, and some of the affordable options have not been a good fit (I guess that is a good enough reason to sign up for insurance).

The problem is, I’m selfish. I may want to quit the program at this very moment, but I am not going to. I may want to quit one or two of my jobs, but I am not going to. The library pays my bills for the moment, I love working with the junior high kids, and the professor I work for is one of the nicest people I have ever met. She is also giving me the opportunity to publish, learn, and immerse myself in research. I should not go to SD and see the boy, or hang out with people for happy hour, but I am not going to give those up. I love my friends and family, and I love the boy the best way I know how, and I don’t want to let any of that go.

The problem is, instead of doing everything that I learned to do while I was in therapy in Scotland, I reverted. I don’t know how to keep that from happening. I don’t know how to reconcile what I know I need to do with what I am doing.

Luckily I have some amazing friends and family to help see me through. My BFF has been giving me just the kick in the pants I need (and enough daily reminders that I am not in fact a broken toy) to keep me from crawling too deep into the hole. I’m also getting to the gym and getting some weekly yoga classes that are helping me work off some of the tension, and I am really hoping that I can make a lasting change, rather than just a change I thought was lasting.

I hate admitting that I failed….well not failed, but suffered a setback. I like to think of myself as strong and perfect, completely capable of taking care of myself, but I am slowly learning in my old age that that might not be the case.

….and that is completely okay.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LhGRjWvnkD0

The Scamp Has a Case of the Mondays

Posted on March 11, 2014 by erranteditor

I’m a grumpy cat today….A very grumpy cat.

I’m trying to suck it up and find some grit. Right now, it is not so easy. All I have to do is make it through my long day tomorrow and then my week eases up a bit. I just hope I have the patience to make it through a class that has no structure, but is vitally important to my qualifying exam in August.

The Scamp’s 27th Year: A Visual Journey

Posted on March 7, 2014 by erranteditor

A week old and already a charmer

1! I’m the cute one

Thing one and thing two!

4. Preschool photo shoot

5. I was a little bit of a mess

I lost my two front teeth before picture day

Lucky 7!

9. Less of a mess

Double digits! Perfect 10

15. My love of tanning is evident

Sweet 16!

17. on a beach in Italy

Who says you have to act like an adult at 18?

No longer a teen

22!

23 was spent with Sailor Jerry

24 and already a knight

25 came with a cake that looked like me

26 with a sheep from Scotland

26 songs in Scotland

27 twins

The Scamp’s Last Day of Her 26th Year

Posted on March 7, 2014 by erranteditor

I did a post last year to mark the end of my 25th year. It was a lot of fun to write, and I was in a good place when I wrote it.

This year is a little bit different. I am feeling extremely stressed under the weight of three jobs, I have been staring at a paper for three hours and have barely managed to write two pages, and the only thing that I want to do tomorrow is sleep all day so I no longer feel bone dead tired.

Last year I felt good about where I was. I was in Scotland navigating the city, enjoying the adventure that came with living overseas, and built a very solid amazing group of friends. I was planning a day full of Mexican food with one of my favorite people, Skype chats with my friends and family at home, and a night full of karaoke at my favorite pub. A relationship I thought would last the next 70 years failed, but I was in therapy and focused on making myself a better person.

I was excited for 26, and excited for what that meant for me as one year older, and one year much much wiser.

This year I am looking forward to the end of my 26th year for a very different reason.

I’m not sure if 26 was a good year for me. There were a lot of good moments, I traveled around Scotland, wrote the best piece of writing in of my academic career, and graduated, started a doctoral degree and managed to get a teaching job, but for all of the good things that I accomplished, I made some missteps and had some hiccups. I left Scotland feeling really good about myself. I learned how to reach out for help when I needed it, reconnected with old friends and strengthened my bond with new friends, and I had a plan. I had a plan for how I was going to readjust to life in the US. I was going to take my great new attitude and be Kim 2.0, a newer, stronger, better version of the girl who packed all her stuff into four suitcases and spent almost a year living in my own created version of paradise.

I came home and threw all of that out the window. I buried myself in my dissertation and did not reach out to the people here who extended a branch of friendship, I had a hard time finding a job, and I quickly dwindled my savings. I let myself fall back into old Kim habits of negativity and insecurity, and I spent way way too much time in the negative. I have let my dedication to school slide, have not tried to find the good in each of my three jobs, and often let old insecurities cloud my new relationship. I still don’t have insurance, and while I have access to therapists through the school, so far, none of them seem like a good fit.

Basically, I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain I made with myself before I left the land of kilts and haggis.

27 is my chance to start over. Tomorrow I get a clean slate. Tomorrow, I get to start over one year older, and maybe not obviously wiser, but having learned a lot about what it means to make mistakes, admit you don’t know everything, and start working on going back to being the Kim 2.0 that I started to become in Scotland.

The best part of tomorrow is that I get to spend it with my family, and it is not over Skype. I still have a mountain of work to do and two jobs to go to, but at the end of all of that, I get to have dinner with my family, and have a few drinks with some of my friends. Even my students, who more often than not drive me crazy, made me a card, brought me balloons and chocolate, and did their best to respect me today.

My mom just brought me a bowl of ice cream and cookies in my favorite bunny bowl.

This may not have been how I pictured I would spend my last day as 26, but let me tell you, that ice cream went a long way to making it better. I have hours and hours before I sleep, and have 50 years of educational legislation to sort through, but I have a belly full of cookie dough ice cream, so suddenly it doesn’t seem so bad.

As promised, tomorrow will be a fun post full of pictures of the last 26 years of birthdays….I’ve seen the pictures, trust me, they will make you laugh.

A lot.

The Scamp and a Moving Castle

Posted on March 5, 2014 by erranteditor

Howl: I feel terrible, like there’s a weight on my chest.

Young Sophie: A heart’s a heavy burden.

Truer words have never been spoken. This particular gem comes from Howl’s Moving Castle, a 2004 Japanese animated fantasy film scripted and directed by Hayao Miyazaki. The film is based on the novel of the same name by English writer Diana Wynne Jones. It is a visually stunning film, and quite a sweet love story

The attention to detail in the animation is stunning

This is Howl’s castle. It is propelled by fire and magic

I needed the sappy sweet love story, and the reminder that a heart is a heavy burden, but when you find someone who is willing to share that burden with you, then you should accept it, and do the same for them in return.

Because I let three jobs, a full class load, homework, and a penchant for afternoon naps, I will not reach my goal of 200 posts by my birthday. I can tell you though that I am working on a fun filled photo journey through the last 26 (almost 27) years of birthdays for the big day, and I am hoping that I will have some time for the next couple of days to get some of the thoughts out of my brain and into the world.

The Crude, Lewd, and Freshly Tattooed Scamp

Posted on February 24, 2014 by erranteditor

Yesterday, in honor of my upcoming 27th birthday, I got a new tattoo. For the last four years I have marked my birthday with a Sailor Jerry inspired tattoo. This marks my 10th tattoo, and the completion of my right leg.

I cannot wait until she is fully healed. It took almost ten years, but I finally got a skull tattoo. This piece complements the mermaid

and Sailor Jerry’s trademark hula girl on my right leg.

I couldn’t be happier with the way my leg turned out. I have been going to Classic Tattoo in Fullerton for the last four years, and refuse to work with any artist other than Joe Rouhana. He is a big cuddly tattooed dude who remind me a lot of my brother. His work is amazing, his work station is incredibly clean, and I always get a big hug when I come to see him (I’ve even made it to his tattoo portfolio….which makes my leg famous).

I’m more than thrilled about the artwork that I am collecting.

I can’t say this is going to be my last tattoo, but I can say that I am going to have to be a bit more selective since I am starting to run out of real estate on my body for my collection…..something that my mom and dad are not upset about.

While my hobby has been quite an investment, it falls in line with my life motto:

The Scamp Resorts to Rude

Posted on February 20, 2014 by erranteditor

I don’t like being rude.

Okay, that’s not true. I love the chance to be snarky and sarcastic to people, and it is rare that I don’t have a comment for something.

The problem is, I don’t like to be rude when I am at work, or when I am doing work for someone else. Two weeks ago I accepted a position as a research assistant at the university. Before I can begin, though, I have to go through an orientation about what it means to be a graduate assistant, and how to not divulge sensitive information while I am working (seriously, I can’t make this up). The woman I am working for tracked down HR and got me all the info I needed after my first meeting with her, and then things fell apart.

I emailed HR and they only offer the orientation two days a week; Wednesday from 9-11 and Friday from 11-1. The woman who runs the orientation told me that I needed to pick one of those days and bring the standard ID for taxes and such. I work during both of those times, but the library was nice enough to give me time on Friday to go to the training.

HR lady cancelled the first Friday. I accepted that and rescheduled for this Friday.

HR lady cancelled again today and told me to just come to the Wednesday meeting.

I understand that she has a busy schedule, but her casual dismissal of the fact that I was given a choice, picked one, and then rearranged my schedule to be there in her given time frame really made me angry.

I emailed her and rather rudely pointed out that she gave me two options and I picked the one that I could work into my schedule. I told her that if she really wanted it to be on Wednesday then it had to be after I got off work as I already took two days off to accommodate her cancelling scheduled events at the last minute. I also pointed out that she has put me two weeks behind in my work, and that is disrespectful to the professor I work for.

She emailed me back 6 hours later and told me I can keep my appointment….she didn’t sign her email.

I did not enjoy being rude to her, but I really resent the fact that my time is not considered important. It is bad enough to cancel once, but twice was just too much for me. I’m not so sure the library would have been so forgiving if I changed my schedule again.

I’m hoping that she is so fed up with dealing with me that she does a short version of the orientation and I can be ready to work by Monday.

I’m not going to hold my breath though.

A Scamp and Sunsets

Posted on February 18, 2014 by erranteditor

I miss this sunset

I’m behind on my goal to get to 200 posts by my birthday, and the only thing I can think about right now is Scottish sunsets.

The Scamp and the Journals of Sylvia Plath

Posted on February 17, 2014 by erranteditor

One of the best parts of working in a library is stumbling across very interesting books. I often find myself getting distracted thumbing through books on art, poetry, space, and even world history. A couple of months ago, I stumbled across a collection of Sylvia Plath’s journals. They start when she was a student at Smith College, and end just before her death in 1963.

I’ve read a lot of Plath’s work, but her journals are by far the best thing she has written. She is known for her “confessional poetry”, but her journals go so much deeper than her poetry. They are honest, innocent, and show a complete decent into the horrors of depression. The early journals are full of childish insecurities about boys and school, while the later ones deal with the struggles of her marriage and the birth of her children. The last entry in the book speaks best to not only her state of mind throughout her life, but the state of her writing.

“A bad day. A bad time. State of mind most important for work. A blithe, itchy eager state where the poem itself, the story is supreme.”

I wonder what it is says about me that I am so drawn to writers and poets that are so far off the beaten path? Not many people understand the poetry of Gertrude Stein, and I feel that many people would read these journals and see nothing but sadness and melancholy.

Every now and then, though, she shows a glimmer of happiness for the world around her.

“I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love is not impersonal, yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I’ll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with object curiosity all the time.”

For now though, it is a nice break from the books on organizational leadership articles about content analysis and curriculum development. I don’t mind being curled up in bed reading about seemingly unimportant days in the life of a truly fascinating woman.