One Down

My first semester as a graduate student is over! There are so many things I could say about the past fourth months, but I'll start off with this: it was great! The transition from ranch work to back-to-school was simple. Despite being away from school for two years, I was ready to return, and it was relatively simple to slip back into a pattern of research, coursework, and tests. Even my transition from My Home Town to West Coast University went smoothly. There are still adjustments to be made here and there-- cultural differences, climatic differences, staggering differences in costs of living-- but on the whole I settled into living in this area as if I'd always been here.

The people in my program are great. I LOVE my lab. The other lab members have been welcoming, and more than happy to provide advice. Lab meetings are often the highlight of my week-- getting together and discussing literature with a group of people with similar research interests is refreshing. They like the same things I like! They're intrigued by the same things I am! Our perspectives differ enough to keep things interesting. It's pretty much fantastic.

I'm slowly getting to know my adviser, Paul. He was extremely helpful when I wrote my NSF proposal for this year. He read through several drafts, and is good at thinking about the bigger picture. We're both still in a period of figuring the other person out. I'm getting to know him as an adviser, and he's getting to know me as a student. Our relationship isn't nearly as fluid as his relationship with the older grad students in our lab, but seeing him interact with the other students gives me hope that it will come in time. He's a genuinely good person, and I think we'll get along.

He's given me some work to do over break, so I'm going to do my best to make a good impression. I'm often quiet during lab meetings. I like to think extensively about the papers we read before commenting, and I'm still learning to read this type of literature critically, so I'm wondering if he's reserving judgement about my scholastic ability until I prove myself in other ways.

The people in my cohort are great, too. Our core courses have been a good way for us all to become friends-- our mutual complaints about our classes have allowed us to bond. We spend a decent amount of time outside of school together, with frequent happy hours, dinners, and parties.

I'm not too chuffed with the required core courses for the program, but the other classes I took this semester weren't too bad. If nothing else, I've been able to see the applicability of the material almost instantaneously. My adviser's work is highly quantitative, and he expects the same of his students, so I'll be taking a series of applied math courses.

I took the first course in the series this fall, and used the material I was learning right away, in the methods for my NSF GRF proposal. The work my adviser wants me to do over break also utilizes the information from this first math course. That being said, graduate math courses aren't exactly a cake walk! I probably spent more time this semester doing problem sets than anything else. But it paid off-- I passed all my classes.

It feels a little strange being on break now. Although I don't think I was any more busy this semester than I was during undergrad, it's a little odd going from 'full speed ahead' to 'take your sweet time'. I've been antsy-- I feel the need to be doing something all the time. It's not nearly as bad now, however, as it was over Thanksgiving break, when it was almost impossible for me to relax. I've gotten to the point where I actually feel bad not doing schoolwork. One weekend mid-semester I'd caught up on work, and had a day free. I went hiking and spent some time with a friend, but even then I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something school-related I should be doing.

With the semester over the feeling isn't quite as bad, but I have been thinking about the side project my adviser has for me. That isn't going to stop me from enjoying my time off, but I will have to address it sooner or later.

On the whole, my first semester was great. I've been really happy out here. I'm pleased with the program, and I think it will be a good fit for me. I'm looking forward to the next four or five years.

It will be nice to go home for the holidays, to see my friends and family and enjoy my time off. Something tells me, though, that I'm going to miss my new home, too. I guess it's a good, thing, though, that I'll be glad to come back!

Happy holidays! :)

Study Break

I'll admit that I've slacked off on blogging this semester. I often thought about updating-- there has been plenty to talk about. I could have written posts on the challenges of adjusting to a new city, getting used to the program, finding my way around campus, meeting people, finding a place to horseback ride, balancing schoolwork and recreation, and choosing which coursework to complete and which to ignore. Time management is something I've always been good at, however. Although I would have loved to have taken time away from school to update the blog, I know that, in the long run, writing The Wild Life is less critical to my success than, say, writing grant proposals, or completing assignments.

As a result, I've neglected the blog. All the times I could have been writing, I was out doing more exciting things (or doing homework). But for the most part, doing exciting things!

Now the semester is winding down, so I have fewer things on the agenda and have finally had a chance to sit down and address the blog. I wish I could say that next semester will be better, but it won't! I start TA'ing next semester, and along with coursework that should occupy most of my time.

The NSF GRFP: Third time's a charm?

This fall, I applied for the NSF GRFP a third time. Here's how the cards have fallen out in years past:

2010: Applied. Received an Honorable Mention.
2011: Applied. Application was not reviewed.
2012: Applied. Fingers crossed!

I'll have to wait until April to find the results of this latest attempt. I checked and double-checked the application requirements, and since I had internet access this year, I made sure that all of my references submitted their recommendation letters on time. So hopefully I won't receive a depressing email in January this year informing me that my application won't be reviewed.

I feel really good about my application this year. I felt good about last year's application, but that doesn't even compare to this season. Last year I wrote my application over the course of a few days. It went through two or three edits, and I received feedback from my former thesis adviser, Walt, as well as one potential graduate adviser. I felt it was pretty strong.

This year, however, I had all of the glorious resources provided by a graduate program. This included: my graduate adviser, our department's grant coordinator, a class constructed around peer review of grant proposals, and a slew of graduate students. My adviser read through last year's proposal early on and decided I should take a different direction. I was initially a little disappointed, because I had to start from scratch: a different study system, different research questions, different methods.

However, my new proposal targets a question I might actually address in the course of my dissertation. The work I told the NSF I'll be attempting is something I might actually attempt, so although I had to spend more time than I'd anticipated rewriting my proposal, it forced me to think about a study system in which I might actually work.

My proposal went through TONS of drafts. I think in the end I had four different versions, each written from a different angle, and several edits of each of those drafts. I was able to choose the strongest and submit that. I know that a lot of the NSF GRF, like many application processes, has to do with luck-- the random way in which proposals end up in the hands of reviewers; the reviewers' background experiences, familiarity with study systems and terminology; their particular moods when they do the actual reviewing. But I feel confident that I did the best possible work I could on the proposal, and I know it is strong, and should be a contender.

I should have one additional year of eligibility for the NSF GRF. If I don't receive the grant again this year, I'll be able to give it one more shot next fall. But here's to hoping that the third time's a charm!

Sink or Swim

As part of an assignment for one of our first-year core courses, our cohort is responsible for interviewing each faculty member in the department to assimilate information on the types of research they do, the people and organizations with which they collaborate, and how they fit into the structure of the department as a whole (read: we're doing departmental grunt-work).

To try and make this task manageable, we split ourselves into groups and divided the faculty amongst ourselves, so each group only has to interview a handful of the professors in the department. I had the strange experience of interviewing, with one other first-year student, my own adviser. (This wasn't supposed to have happened, but with scheduling issues, it's the way it worked out).

My cohort-mate led the interview, and I transcribed. One of the questions we've been asking is related to each individual faculty member's perceptions on mentoring students, or how they see their role as an adviser. Paul's response to this question was (paraphrased) as follows:

"I wouldn't say I have a mentoring philosophy per say, but in general I'm very hands off-- sink or swim. Not all students are meant to succeed in grad school, and not everyone should be a scientist. If you're not going to make it in grad school, the sooner you get out, the better, so I expect my students to be self-sufficient. The earlier you can act like a scientist, the better off you'll be, and real scientists don't have any strict guidelines or guidance. If the student is doing well, it would probably be annoying for them if I were constantly checking in on their progress. If they aren't doing well, then any hand-holding I do will keep them from developing any motivation towards working out issues on their own."

Yikes!

Let me start of by saying that I completely agree with him. I don't think everyone is cut out to do science, and I also don't believe that grad school is for everyone. I am an extremely independent student as-is, and I would probably get annoyed if my adviser were on my back all the time and constantly checking in on me. However... it did make me a little nervous, the 'sink or swim' part.

Although I do have a decent amount of research experience, I haven't done a master's degree like many of the students here have. I'm not exactly sure yet what this grad school thing is about, except that it involves meeting some course requirements and doing a giant, multifaceted research project over the span of several years. And although I'm more than capable at coming up with my own research questions, what about making contacts with potential collaborators, finding a study site, applying for grants, and general problem-solving? Does he mean that will all be up to me, solo, as well? Because honestly, the thought of doing everything by myself is a little intimidating, and I could really use some guidance in, say, finding a good study area to work in that will be the appropriate size and location to collect the data I need to collect, or determining whether or not the specific method I'm considering is the one most suitable for the analyses I need to do.

I need someone in my corner, someone looking out for me, even if they're not continuously involved in what I'm doing. I expect (and prefer) to be doing things on my own, but I need someone to go to if I'm having trouble or need advice. And I'd like a resource with a better network than my own to be able to help facilitate the contacts I need to get things done. When I spoke with Paul before applying to WCU, he made it clear that he expects his students to be independent, but he made it sound as if he was going to be more involved in the process than he suggested during his interview. And admittedly, some of the things he said did make me wonder about the role he'll end up playing in my graduate school career.

I'm really hoping by 'sink or swim' he meant, 'I'm going to throw you in the deep end, and if you can swim, I'll help you get to shore.'

And on into autumn...

I'm temped to start off by apologizing for not having updated in so long, but to be perfectly honest, this is the first chance I've had since my last post to sit down and spend some time with the blog. They're not kidding when they say grad school is busy. It is!

So far, things are going pretty well. We're midway through the semester now, and although a small part of me feels I should have a good idea about whether or not I like what I'm doing, the larger part says I should reserve judgement for another year or so. That doesn't mean I haven't already formulated some opinions, however.

I like my cohort a lot. Just about everyone is getting along well. They're a group of friendly, knowledgeable people with diverse backgrounds and perspectives, and that makes for a good mix. We're starting to socialize more now and I'm beginning to make friends. We're gradually spending time together outside of school, which has been great. It's so nice to have a social outlet of people my own age group again. And, of course, we share similar interests, which makes conversation easier.

I'm gradually getting used to living here. Generally, it's a pretty nice place. There is a lot going on (a lot of weekend activities, for example), good hiking/natural areas nearby, and the campus is nice. There is also a pretty good alternative transportation infrastructure, so I've been able to get around on my bike pretty easily. This has been great. In MHT, it's just about impossible to bike or bus anywhere. Out here, I ride my bike back and forth to campus every day, and often ride my bike to run errands or visit people's houses. I've only filled up my car with gas once since I've been here, which is fantastic, because gas is outrageously expensive out here.

Gas isn't the only thing that's pricey-- housing costs, utilities, food, clothing, you name it. I have yet to see an item for purchase that is lower (or even comparable, in some cases) in cost to the same item back home. It's been a real shock, and is probably the one thing I'm really having trouble getting used to. Things I would have bought without thinking about it MHT, I now have to give careful consideration, especially with my limited grad student budget. I've gone from buying a nice assortment of mostly healthy foods to a limited selection of cheap foods. Probably not ideal for my physical well-being, but there just isn't any way for me to afford the stuff I'd like to be eating. And eating out, movies, new clothes, and other incidental expenditures? Forget about it. I'm going to be stretching my budget as is every month just paying the bills.

Weather has been another interesting consideration. Back home, the weather is starting to dip toward winter, with chilly mornings and evenings and some light freezing overnight. Here, the weather has stayed pretty consistent. It's not really cold, ever. But it rains. A lot. All day long. And that has been a little strange. I'm starting to wonder how much rain we'll get here during the winter.

Classes haven't been too bad. There is a tremendous amount of required reading for the core courses I'm taking for the program, and in some ways that's been frustrating because it takes a lot of time away from me reading the stuff I'm actually interested in (e.g. reading that is relevant to my research interests, and that may help me start working on research projects for this summer and beyond). Only a couple of classes I'm taking right now feel applicable to my research, and I almost feel as if school is starting to get in the way of my education. I need to strike a balance between participating in the core courses and having enough time in my schedule to attack my own work-- research ideas, reading, and, of course grant proposals.

It's almost NSF GRFP season again. And yes, I'm going to apply, again. I'm going to use the same proposal that I did last year. This time, however, my adviser will serve as my third academic reference, to replace the reference I still haven't been able to forgive. I've done some minor editing to my proposal, but even a year later with a fresher perspective I continue to feel good about it. I do wish I'd had the opportunity to get feedback from the NSF reviewers, but obviously that didn't happen, so I'm going to have to hope for the best. I'm going to ask Paul (my shiny new graduate adviser) to take a look at it, and hope he might offer some feedback. I might even ask one of my new labmates (another group of people that I really like) to read it over.

Apart from all that, nothing much else has been going on, which I suppose is a good thing considering how busy I've been. I'm working on finding a place to ride out here, as a hobby to get me away from academia every week. I'm looking into a once-weekly job at a consignment barn working sale horses, but I'm not sure yet if it's going to work out. I haven't really been homesick, although I do miss MHT and my friends and family, and Jet (also, snow, affordable food, the ability to participate things that cost money, having expendable income, and good delivery pizza, which I haven't been able to find here yet). It won't be too much longer before Thanksgiving, though, when I'll be making my first trip back home. Time flies!

(*Wow! I just noticed, this is my 100th post! I feel like I should have some sort of celebration...*)

Settling in

The past few weeks have been hectic, but surprisingly manageable. I successfully made the move from MHT to WCU. I had a little bit of a snafu with my living arrangements (the apartment I'd decided to let was not at all what I expected, and way too far from campus, so I ended up moving--again-- right after I'd moved *sigh*) but otherwise made the transition easily and got set up. Then came orientation, campus tours, and of course, classes starting, including an enormous scheduling conflict which has yet to be resolved.

Despite all that, I feel as if things are going pretty well. My feelings may change as I progress farther into my coursework and start losing my free time, but so far everything has been fine. Public transportation is fairly reliable here, so I haven't had to do nearly as much driving as in MHT, the surrounding area is full of new places to explore, and most of the people in my cohort seem pretty friendly (although I'll admit we haven't spent much time together yet). I'm still meeting people in the department and trying to set up a routine for myself (difficult, because of my ongoing scheduling conflict), but I can see a time in the near future where everything will fall into place.

I've been here just over three weeks now. It's been a little strange being in school again. I'll admit that when I sat down for my first lecture, it felt weird, and I thought to myself, 'This is stupid. I already did school.' No brain. We're not quite finished with classes yet. Hold out a couple more years, okay?

It's been good to get back into academics, though, for the most part. I'm starting to get excited about research ideas, and attending seminars has gone a long way to motivate me toward working on my own proposals. I'm attending a MUCH larger university than I did for undergrad, so it's been a little overwhelming realizing just how many resources may be at my disposal. Now, I need to start attending to my biggest hurdle-- funding.

Hooray... it's almost NSF GRFP time. Again.
(^sarcasm)

Four, to go

It's time. I'm leaving My Home Town and moving to WCU. I've loaded my car, said my goodbyes, and planned out my travel route. Now all there is left to do is drive. I may not post now for a little while since I'll be busy settling into a new city and a new routine. But I promise to update as soon as things calm down a bit.

Wish me luck!

Three, to get ready

I hate moving.

Hopefully, once I actually get out to WCU, I'll be finished moving for a while. The apartment I found to rent is very small, and a ways from campus, so chances are I won't stay there throughout the entirety of my PhD. Chances are I'll be moving again at some point in the near future. Although I may be just sick enough of packing, loading, driving, unloading, and unpacking that I hold off as long as possible before doing it again.

I turned in the keys to my apartment, organized the items I want to take and those I'm going to leave, had my car checked over for travel, finished the myriad of other tasks I had to complete before leaving. For the past few days, I've been extremely busy, my activities continuous and all leading up to my departure. This marathon of tasks, however, has been peppered with brief periods of downtime, which is when my nerves start to catch up with me.

For the majority of the summer, I've avoided thinking about leaving. I'm excited to go. I'm looking forward to starting school, and to everything that goes along with it. But I am also sad to leave behind the little life I've built here, even knowing that it would never take me where I want to be ten years down the road. So I've pushed all thoughts of moving aside, and
focused on the present-- working on the ranch, riding Jet, barrel racing, spending time with my family and friends. Now, with my move date only hours away, I find all those thoughts catching up with me, and, along with them, the nervousness.

I think in large part the nerves stem from a complete lack of knowledge concerning expectations. I have only vague ideas about grad student life. I understand that it is fundamentally different than undergrad, and I've read countless accounts of current and former grad students' experiences. But programs vary so widely by discipline and department, and the very act of doing PhD research is so unique to each individual, that I literally can only guess at what my new life will be like.

That is likely the hardest part of this whole transition for me. I am the type of person who plans everything out in advance, as far as possible. When I envision the future, I am detail-specific, and reassure myself using a host of scenarios that I play out in my mind beforehand. But with moving, and with starting school, I just don't know what to expect, and thus cannot plan for anything beyond driving through my first long day, the only thing with which I have relevant experience.

I keep trying to remind myself that I've done this before, although in not quite so dramatic a fashion. Over two years ago now, I moved to Newcastle, WY. I had little idea of expectations then, much as I do now. I was going to an unfamiliar place to a new, unfamiliar job with no prior conceptions about what my day-to-day life would entail. I was nervous. I was sad to be leaving home. I didn't know what was up ahead. But I moved, and I started my job, and I made it through my internship just fine.

The difference now lies in several hundred additional miles from home, and 5 or more years away instead of 5 or more months. But hopefully, my path toward a PhD, with a cohort of new people, a built-in social outlet, a college-friendly town, and a host of like-minded people, will serve me far better than a tiny coal town in northeastern Wyoming. That, at least, I know is something I can look forward to.

Two, for the show

Friday was my last day at work on the ranch. Despite my move date coming up extremely quickly (as in, I leave at the end of this week, quickly), I haven't thought a lot about the fact that I'll no longer live in My Home Town, or work on the ranch. My last day of work was more or less like any other day. I did the same things I always do on Fridays, and never once thought, "Oh! This is the last time I'll have to do this!" even when I was scrubbing out the toilet in the bathroom in the barn.

There was one unusual event on Friday-- Debbie hosted a small going away party for me. I wasn't expecting any fanfare. I thought that, if anything, she and Marlene would take me to lunch or dinner. But Friday morning they sent me to run errands and when I returned at lunchtime the barn was decked out in party attire. She'd ordered pizza from my favorite local place, purchased cupcakes, and invited both my mom and one of my friends to come by, along with, of course, Joe and Marlene. It was a small gathering, but very much appreciated. Even though it was a going away party, we didn't talk much about my going away. I don't think I'm the only one that has been trying not to think about the fact that I'll be leaving.

The display of my support system in MHT has been enormous lately. I've had friends take me to dinner, help me move furniture, and offer to help me pack my car the night before I leave. I've received parting gifts from several people, and more than one of my friends has expressed dismay at my imminent departure.

It's nice to know that people care, but even though I appreciate the myriad of gestures, it's bittersweet. It serves to remind me that I've managed to build a life here these past two years, and when I move, I'll be leaving all of that behind.

My Failed Application Year

I've been having trouble the past few days envisioning what my life will be like at WCU-- living in a new place, meeting new people, life as a grad student. I have to keep reminding myself that at this time last year, it was very hard for me to envision myself anywhere but where I was-- stuck in a job that was going nowhere in a situation that was far from ideal. The thought of waiting an additional year to enter grand school, of completing the application process a second time, of wending my way through another anxious few months waiting to hear back from admission committees, was nearly overwhelming.

For a while last summer, I was very unhappy. I kept mulling over the things I'd done throughout life that had led me to that point, and wondering where I went wrong. What could I have done differently in high school, in undergrad, in my gap year, in my personal statement, that could have made my first round of grad school applications successful? What was it about me, as a person or a student or a potential ecologist, that didn't quite make the grade? Why was I being passed up in favor of other candidates? What should I have done differently?

I ended up having lengthy conversations with my undergraduate advisers, as well as much shorter interactions with prospective grad advisers. It was difficult to stop wondering what was "wrong" with me and instead focus on the things which I could actually control. It took me months to realize that, regardless of how prepared one may be for graduate school, and despite having all the necessary credentials for admission, even the most qualified applicants aren't guaranteed acceptance-- anywhere. It was difficult for me to reconcile my previous experiences applying to undergrad, where a handful of applications led to a handful of admittance notifications, with the idea that in applying to graduate school, fit is more important that ability, there are far more applicants than available spots, funding is at a premium, and, more than anything, many candidates go through the application process multiple times before getting accepted.

Ultimately, it was a combination of the internet community and a list of tasks to complete in the immediate future that helped me survive my failed application year. As part of The Grad Cafe's online forums I found that I was definitely not the only person applying to grad school a second (or even third) time round, and found at least a modicum of reassurance in knowing that a failed application year isn't as uncommon as it may initially seem. I also focused on being productive at increasing my odds for success in my second round of applications: I presented some research I'd completed as an undergraduate at a national conference, visited the schools in which I had the highest interest to meet with prospective advisers face-to-face, worked another season in the field, restructured my personal statement, and submitted a manuscript to a scholarly journal for review.

Amongst those activities I did what I could to stay sane. I worked my job on the ranch, took care of my apartment, entertained the rats, spent time with my family, and paid the bills. I tried not to think too much about being back in school, but instead attempted to live more in the moment, taking advantage of and enjoying the opportunities I had. And in that respect, I was largely successful. I had the chance to keep working with all the horses on the ranch, have a horse of my own by leasing Jet, improve my barrel racing, take up calf sorting, and spend time out on the trail. I learned to drive a tractor, improved my skills with the skid loader, and expanded my rodeo and horsemanship knowledge. I also took some time to visit a couple new cities, and took my first vacation in years to visit my best friend for a few days earlier this month.

At this point, it's hard for me to say how my upcoming entrance into graduate school will differ as a result of my additional, unexpected gap year. I will never know what my experiences would have been like had I been admitted during my first application season. What I do know is this: my failed application year was difficult, but not impossible. What initially seemed an insurmountable time period was, of course, just another year. Although I was occasionally unhappy with my situation, I did what I could to make the best of it. And I survived.

I had the opportunity to learn and try and participate in some things that I most likely would not have otherwise. My desire to return to school is even stronger than it was before. My additional time off enabled me to better focus my intentions for research. My improved application resulted in an acceptance to a school that seems like the perfect fit for my research and career goals. And even though applying (and waiting to hear back about applications) a second time was in many ways just as miserable as I imagined it would be, I will be heading to grad school in less than two weeks.

It took me a long time to realize that a failed application year didn't necessarily mean that I'd failed. But I think I finally did. And the more I think about it, the more I realize I'm probably better off for it.

The things I'll miss the most

• Mountains
• Autumn
• My apartment
• Always having dogs around
• Having a dog to borrow for hiking
• Working with horses
•  Dinner and dominoes nights
• My favorite local restaurants
• Long trail rides
• Separate living and bedroom spaces
• Reading for pleasure
• Having excess income
• Riding every day
• Having plenty of free time
• Working with Marlene 
• Random, wealthy-employer perks
• Snow
• Joe, without whom my two years at the barn would have been far less entertaining
• Barrel racing
• Familiarity
• My friends
• Jet
• My family

Things I will not miss

• Constant chaos in the barn
• Debbie freaking out about weird (and usually inane) things
• Trina's temper tantrums
• Watching people with more money than sense throw money away
• Watching Debbie buy Trina a new horse every four months instead of encouraging her to work with the twelve others she already has
• Seeing good horses pick up bad habits as a result of Trina's laziness while riding
• Having to constantly cater to Debbie's whims
• Having to constantly cater to Trina's whims
• Cleaning the office and bathroom in the barn
• Exercising the miniature ponies
• Tutoring Trina while she sends text messages and refuses to pay attention
• Watching Trina be disrespectful to everyone around her
• Fielding constant (and usually purposeless) early morning, late evening, and weekend phone calls from Debbie
• Having to stand by while Debbie's dogs and horses are under-exercised and over-fed
• Watching Debbie mishandle her dogs and then wonder why they have behavioral issues
• Patiently explaining something to Debbie or Trina, at their request, then watching as they completely disregard everything I've said
• Unforgiving hot weather in summer
• Always smelling like horse
• Constantly shifting plans at the barn, and making plans that always fall through because of a last-minute will of Debbie's
• Watching Debbie coddle Trina and then wonder why she isn't self-disciplined or independent
• The funny looks people give me when I say I want to get a PhD
• Trying to keep the barn tidy, while being the only anal person amongst a group of sloppy, disorganized individuals
• Icy roads in winter
• The creepy woman that lives two doors down from me
• Working in a place where the owners refuses to conserve, recycle, or even attempt to be environmentally conscious, despite claiming to be environmental advocates
• Flies

Progress

Things have been going well. I've been busy, of course, as always: working, riding Jet, and chipping away at my long pre-move to-do list. As a result, I've had little time for much of anything else. I looked at the calendar this morning and realized the time remaining between now and my move is extremely brief. I still have a lot left to accomplish, but things are running smoothly.

1. I finally got round to editing and reformatting my manuscript. As I expected, it didn't take nearly as long as I'd imagined. I sent it off to Walt, the co-author, and now all I have to do it wait for him to review it and see if he'd like to make any additional changes before we resubmit. This might take a long time, but I'm hoping I can encourage a speedier turn around by playing the "I'm starting grad school soon and want to get this off my plate before I have far too many other things to think about" card. We'll see.

2. My running is going well. I'm up to running for thirty minutes straight! I'm surprised how well the C25K program works. I haven't lost any discernible weight, but I do think I've put on a little muscle and I'm definitely more fit. I don't breathe nearly as heavily (I could actually hold a conversation now, while running), and my breathing and heart rate quickly return to normal after runs. I don't think I'm at a place where I 'love' running. But I certainly don't hate it, and it seems to be good exercise for the time being.

3.I found a place to live. I was lucky enough to score a hit on Craigslist for a studio apartment at a very reasonable price point. The landlord was willing to wait for me to move in to pay a security deposit and first month's rent, so I don't have to worry about losing money in a scam, and I can see the place in person before putting any money down. They agreed to my move-in date and hosting my one remaining rat. The only (potential) issue is that it's about a half-hour commute from campus. It's a shorter commute, mileage-wise, than the one I make now to the ranch. But it will mean additional time and expense. Hopefully it won't be too much of an issue, and it will be worth the commute to have an affordable place to myself. It even might end up being beneficial-- it could help me to maintain a healthy work/life balance if I'm not so close to campus that I feel like I'm there all the time.

4. I'm starting to go through things, paring down on what I have, selling off items I no longer need, and making plans on what to take, what to store, and what to donate. I've already had success selling some bigger ticket items that I no longer use (my first DSLR, for example), so I have a little extra money on hand to put towards moving expenses.

5. I got an iPad! :) A very generous gift from my mother to aid me in my graduate school endeavors. Initially, when the iPad was released, I couldn't see myself ever having a need for one. I have a laptop and a smart phone, and couldn't envision how something that was more than a phone but less than a computer would fit my needs. But after speaking with my aunt and uncle (both professors, and avid iPad users) as well as reading reviews of the device written by current grad students, I decided I needed one, too. It's AWESOME. It will completely replace my need for three-ring binders and loose-leaf paper for note taking, negate the need for printing out thousands of pages in PDF documents and articles every year, help me keep all my files and information organized digitally, and, potentially, help save me a lot of money if I can buy certain textbooks in eBook format. I've had a lot of fun learning how to use it, and I've started to slide back into a more academic mindset, reading articles and doing some research. Apparently, all you have to do to make me more productive is put my work on a toy.

One, for the money

It turns out that starting graduate school is going to be one of the most expensive things I've ever done. Aside from the money spent on the now-completed application process, I'm looking at a 1,500 mile move to a city where the cost of living is extremely high. Moving my stuff long-distance will require one of two things: either I rent a trailer or moving company to take my furniture from here to there (expensive), or I leave most of my furniture behind to consignment and pick up the essentials at thrift stores after I arrive (slightly less expensive, and easier, but still costly).

The transport itself won't be cheap. Two very long or three slightly shorter days of driving will add up to a lot of gas and at least one hotel stay, as well as the pre-trip maintenance (oil change, tire balance and rotation, brake check, etc.) I really should have done on my vehicle beforehand. There's also a security deposit and first month's rent on a new apartment to think about when I get there.

And what about starting school? I'll need a parking permit to make sure I can park on campus. I'll need to stock up on certain school supplies, including an external hard drive and a printer (two things I did without in undergrad, but cannot put off acquiring before starting my research). Most of the clothes I have are dirty, worn, holey, and sweat-stained from two hard years on the ranch-- I doubt my jeans (with the seats and seams worn out from hours in the saddle) will be appropriate for an academic atmosphere. That's not to mention the costs of textbooks for my classes and the fees I have to pay to the school that aren't covered by my stipend!

Looks as if I'll be picking up some extra hours on the ranch, and tapping into savings...

Yikes!

Separation Anxiety

When I was younger, I suffered from an inexplicable fear, a phobia in the truest sense. When friends would get together for sleepovers or school or girl scout trips were planned, I was always excited. I wanted to be included, involved. I would think about how much fun I would have visiting a new place or playing games and staying up late. And, in general, I would have a fantastic time. Until nightfall.

For reasons I still do not understand, as we neared bedtime and I was faced with the thought of sleeping away from home, I was stricken with a completely irrational, yet paralyzing, fear. Although I'd enjoyed myself during the day, and could foresee additional fun the next morning, I could not face the thought of the hours in between. I would suffer a complete breakdown, knowing only overwhelming fear.

There was no consoling me. No amount of rational discussion ("You're safe here," "You'll be home tomorrow," "It's only for a little while") could ease my anxiety. I wanted to be home, and I wanted to be there NOW. My parents had to be called. Often, they had to come get me. There were tears. Uncomfortable hosts. Angry, tired mom. Eventually, it reached the point where I was no longer allowed to even entertain the idea of attending a sleepover, regardless of how much I begged and pleaded. I so badly wanted to go, but it wasn't fair to anyone involved so long as meltdowns were a factor.

None of it made sense. I was an independent child. I wanted to go places and do things on my own. I wanted to explore away from home. I enjoyed going new places and spending time with friends. I wasn't clingy, needy, or particularly reliant. But every time I slept over somewhere, without fail, I would freak.

I eventually outgrew it, although even into my teenage years I suffered from bouts of anxiety when away from home at night. As I grew older, I could rationalize with myself, and convince myself to stick it out until morning. I learned that if I could suffer through an uncomfortable hour or two, I'd eventually fall asleep, and could enjoy myself again in the morning. At some point I realized that the fear had, for the most part, disappeared.

Recently, I've been thinking a lot about my impending move to WCU. On the whole, I'm really excited to make the transition to graduate school. I can't wait to get started. I'm looking forward to meeting my cohort, starting classes, developing a relationship with a new adviser, discovering new research outlets, making new friends, and living in and exploring a new part of the country. WCU is a beautiful place, and I've had fun thinking about hiking and backpacking in the surrounding natural areas. And I'm starting toward my PhD, my long-time academic goal. What could be better than that?

At night, before I fall asleep, I often envision my new life at WCU-- places I'll visit, people I'll meet, potential successes, potential hardships. In my mind, the way things fall out are largely positive. Although I'm admittedly nervous about moving to a new place and becoming a graduate student, I'm looking forward to this next step in my life. I can see good things coming my way.

But occasionally, just before I fall asleep, I'll be struck with a pang of fear reminiscent of a phobia I've long since outgrown. Because as excited I am to go, the thought of leaving my home, a place and the people I love, and the security and familiarity of the life I've built here?

It downright terrifies me.

Jet Propulsion

After I started working with Jet and ran him a couple of times, Marlene approached me about leasing him for the summer. We'd been getting along well and I really enjoyed racing him, so I readily agreed, and we set up a full lease for me through August. So Jet is officially my horse for the summer-- everything from his basic care to his exercise and shoeing is my responsibility. It means that Jet is hands off for everyone else without my permission, and that Debbie and Trina cannot pull him out from under me.

Over the past few weeks I've really begun to enjoy having a horse of my own. Last summer, when I worked with Belle, I wasn't technically leasing her. Not only did her ownership remain Debbie's, but so did her care, so although I rode her most days at work and was allowed to take her to barrel races every other week, she was not my horse. Any time Debbie, Trina, or one of their friends wanted/needed to use her, she became off-limits to me, and at the end of the summer, when their young friend Maya came to stay, I wasn't allowed to ride her at all, and had to stop barrel racing long before the summer circuits ended.

Jet, however, is mine and mine alone, and I can do with him what I please. It's been fantastic so far. Every day I work with him I feel a little bit more confident. I've been learning a lot. If I feel like trail riding, we trail ride. If I think he needs arena work, we work in the arena. If I want to run poles, we run poles. The freedom of having a horse to ride the way I want, instead of doing the basic groundwork and patterns I'm required to do at work, has really made riding fun for me again. If I want to go to a local competition, a barrel race or gymkhana or sorting, all I have to do is hop on and ride him down to the local riding club's arena. We've ridden out on the trail alone, joined up with my best barn friend, Joe, for trail rides, and gone barrel racing every week. We're learning to work together seamlessly, and we trust one another more every day.

Leasing Jet has also packed my schedule. With warm weather firmly in place, I work full days now, and ride Jet every day after work. Most days I leave my apartment not long after dawn and don't get back until dark.

Although I love trail riding and want to try my hand at every horse-related activity I come across, my primary motivation in leasing Jet was to be able to barrel race. Up until last week, I'd run Jet a total of three times. During the first and third runs, I knocked over the second barrel. We were coming in nicely and turning well, but he was turning so sharply I was grazing it with my leg coming off it-- simply an issue with timing on my part. But I had a bigger problem. On all three runs my first barrel was terrible, far too wide and incredibly messy. I couldn't quite work out what I was doing wrong. I just wasn't helping him get around it as I should have.

Finally, last week, the day before our fourth race together, I asked Marlene for a lesson. Although Marlene used to help me often, it's been a long time since I'd had an actual lesson with her. We rarely ride together anymore, as we work different schedules, and I've reached the point in my riding abilities where she and Debbie trust me to work horses alone, without constant supervision and/or guidance. I cannot honestly remember the last time she corrected something in my riding. But as I've started doing more, and I'm now working with a more challenging horse (and working with him exclusively, with no weekly tune-up from Marlene) it's important for me to seek out help.

I asked Marlene to test Jet for soreness, as I was having trouble getting him to take the appropriate lead when loping. We worked for almost an hour and a half, and she identified some things in my riding, general sloppiness, mostly, that, in my limited experience, I'd been unable to recognize, which was allowing Jet to take advantage of the situation. It was nothing serious, but it was was letting Jet develop some (minor) bad habits that was affecting the way he rode. Once she taught me to recognize it, though, I was able to work on correcting it, and get him back to the point where I was fully in control.

The next day, before the race, I concentrated on the exercises she taught me and applying the things I'd learned the day before, trying to keep Jet soft and get him to take his leads correctly, and to stay shaped in the appropriate arc while traveling in circles. When our number came up and it was time for us to race, I let him run and further applied what I'd learned the night before. And Jet turned the first barrel perfectly. Just like that, I'd fixed my biggest problem racing him. We took an entire second off our best race time, and won first place in our division.

I felt so incredible after that run. It seems as if I'm finally figuring him out, and things are falling into place. We're finally starting to get into a groove and work as a team. He's learning that I'm the one doing the driving, and I'm learning how to best support him so he can do his job. After the race was over (and I'd collected my winnings), I told Marlene I wanted to continue having lessons every week the day before races, as it obviously helped! I can only hope that our success continues, and that the way he wrapped that first barrel in our most recent race wasn't just a fluke. I want ALL our runs to feel like that. It was really nice.

Summer is starting to go by very quickly. Every day I look at a calendar and realize how few days actually remain before my move to WCU. I'll be leaving a lot behind; not just Jet, but horseback riding in general. I want to do everything I can to get the most out of my experience with Jet this summer, and I plan on taking advantage of every opportunity I can for us to do something fun together. I know that I'm already a better rider for working with him than I was a few weeks ago, not to mention months ago when I first got on him at work. Hopefully we'll keep having fun throughout the next couple months, and continue to advance in our abilities together. If I have to stop riding, I want to be able to do so knowing that I did everything I could to become the best rider I could with the time that I had.

(Edit: We ran again this week, and took another tenth of a second off our time!)

Learning to Run

Since I hit my teenage years I've cycled through a seasonal shift in body weight, putting on a few pounds over winter, when it's cold and I'm typically more sedentary, and then shedding those pounds (and more) during the summer when the temperatures skyrocket and I spend most days outdoors. But this winter, for some reason, my metabolism must have shifted. I did alright during early winter. I had my fieldwork stint through November and December, and muddled through January without issues.

Sometime around mid-February, however, things changed. I was overcome with a seemingly insatiable appetite. I was hungry. All. The. Time. Perhaps it was brought on by stress about graduate school applications, or a lower tolerance for working outdoors with the horses in frigid temperatures and biting winds. Possibly I was lazier than in previous years, taking advantage of my lack of a social outlet and my hours off by vegging out in front of the television and completely ignoring any semblance of exercise. Maybe it has to do with age. I'm honestly not sure. What I do know is that I could not seem to curb my appetite-- it bothered me nearly constantly, especially in the evenings-- and I ended up eating far more than I should have, on a regular basis.

As a result, I'm now around 8 pounds heavier than an acceptable weight for someone my size, and about 18 pounds heavier than what I see as my ideal weight. It crept up on me, slowly at first, and then more persistently, until one day I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that I was not where I needed (or wanted) to be. I no longer have the outlets for exercise I did in college-- the organized sports in which I used to participate during the school year are now out of the equation. There aren't great adult sport leagues in MHT, either.

Once the weather began to warm, I knew I needed to put in some effort to shed this extra weight. I started counting calories and paying better attention to my diet. More fruits, veggies, and protein, and fewer sugary snacks. With the onset of warmer weather, my crazy, inexplicably tormenting hunger seems to have abated. I no longer feel the gnawing emptiness I did throughout the winter that pushed me to eat more than I needed. And though I'm active almost constantly at work-- feeding, grooming, moving, and riding horses, shifting bales of hay, mucking stalls, etc.-- I've still been feeling out of shape. Finally, I decided to start running.

I hate running. HATE. Loathe. Absolutely despise. I ran track in 6th grade, and never wanted to do it again. I despised conditioning in the multitude of other sports I played simply because it involved running. But so many people love running, that I thought I must be missing out on something. I did some research, and read that many people dislike running because they try to do too much, too soon. They become winded too quickly and feel as if they can go no further, or become too sore to want to try again. The key, many articles informed me, was to start slow and work my way up to a regular running schedule.

I found a program called Couch to 5K, or C25K, a 9-week training session intended to take an individual from never having run at all to being able to run for thirty minutes, straight, or 5 km, by cycling through run/walk intervals three times weekly for half an hour. It seemed, to me, reasonable and feasible. I decided to give it a go.

I'm only in my third week now, but thus far I haven't hated it. I won't go as far to say that I've enjoyed it, but it has been easier than I imagined. Despite still having the additional weight to pack around, I haven't been sore since after the second run, and the lung congestion I often get after exercising has dissipated and no longer seems to be a problem. I have had moments where I'm loosely focused, and don't feel the strain at all-- I can almost imagine what some people must feel when they enter that zen-like state of concentration often talked about amongst avid runners.

Who knows how my opinion of running may change as I enter the later stages of the program and start increasing the intervals I run. Hopefully I'll be able to reach the end stage and be able to run for thirty minutes straight, or more. I'd really like to make a habit of it, and continue to run on a regular basis after moving to WCU. It's an easy, effective form of exercise that can be done anywhere, on any schedule. And maybe I'll actually be able to run a 5K someday.

Now if I could only get this damned extra weight off...

House Hunt

With just under three months remaining between now and my move to WCU, it's time to start addressing my growing to-do list. Along with tasks like purging, packing, and planning (all while being alliterative), I need to find housing. Although the area to which I'm moving has a decent Craigslist, searching for housing in absentia is never easy. From this distance I am unable to a) find availabilities that aren't listed either on Craigslist or the local classifieds, b) visit and tour properties, c) meet landlords, or d) place a deposit without serious concerns of fraud.

Most of those issues aren't yet too pressing, however, as most properties I've seen advertised are available as summer sublets, or are looking for tenants to move in during June or July. I'm hoping that in the next few weeks I'll start seeing more places available for late August/September. I also have a friend currently living in the area who has offered to visit places on my behalf if I find something suitable.

The biggest problem I'm having right now is pricing. I'm trying to budget on a grad student's stipend, which is less than I make right now as a ranch hand. I'll also be moving to an area of the country that has a notoriously high cost of living. Everything in the place to which I'm moving-- gas, food, rent, insurance-- is far more expensive than in MHT. It's difficult for me to think about making ends meet in a place where I'll be paying more for necessities all while making less money.

Right now, I rent a pretty spacious one bedroom apartment just outside of MHT. I make enough as a ranch hand to cover expenses and put a little bit of money in savings every month. In the area around WCU, even small studio apartments are on the order of 60% more expensive in rent than I pay now. I've been looking into alternative options, mainly bedrooms in shared houses, but without being in the area to check places out and meet potential housemates, there's not a good way for me to get a feel of whether I'd get along in the house. Skype is great, and can provide a decent way to sort-of meet people, but it's no substitute for being physically present.

I've had to find housing in absentia before, when I was getting ready to move to Newcastle, WY. I followed the local classifieds for a couple weeks before something suitable popped up. I called the landlord, who sent me pictures of the place, and luckily agreed to hold it for me, without a down payment, until I moved. Then, I was able to check it out before agreeing to rent and paying the security deposit. It all worked out really well, but likely worked in my favor because of the low population of Newcastle and the dearth of renters coming in. It probably worked in my landlord's favor to hold the place for me. I'm not sure I'll be able to work out something similar when moving to WCU.

If nothing else, most rental agreements I've seen posted in the area of WCU are month-to-month, so even if I have to end up moving in someplace that I don't like, or into a household in which I don't get along, I'll likely only have to stay for a month or two while I find something better.

Resubmission

I wrote in September that my undergraduate thesis adviser, Walt, and I had submitted a manuscript for publication. The paper made it to and through review, but we heard back a couple months ago that the journal decided not to accept the article. The reviewers' primary reasoning behind the rejection had to do with the geographic scope of the project. As an undergraduate, my project was necessarily limited by time and funding, so the conclusions I can draw from the research aren't as broad as I (or the particular journal to which I submitted the manuscript) would like them to be. Nonetheless, I received some extremely helpful feedback and a good deal of constructive criticism, so I wasn't particularly disappointed about the rejection. It will be the first of many.

At the time, my adviser was out of the country, and it took me several weeks to get in touch with him after he returned. He is notoriously slow at correspondence, especially when it has to do with publications. He told me point blank once that, since he's received tenure, he feels much less pressure to publish. Once I did get hold of him, he suggested we resubmit, but also told me to pick a journal. Now I'm torn-- do I go for a journal that has a higher impact value but a better audience, or a lesser journal that is more regional and thus may have less of an issue with geographic scope?

Regardless of the journal I ultimately choose, it's time for me to go back, edit, and rewrite. There are several things I can take care of without reformatting the article to meet a specific journal's submission guidelines. But after that I have to pick. At this point, I'm having two problems.

First, I don't feel very confident in choosing the journal myself, or with some aspects of the rewrite. I'd really like the opportunity to meet with Walt and ask him how to approach some of the editing. More than anything, I'd like to discuss with him the feedback we received. I know that editing articles, choosing journals, reformatting, etc. are going to be large aspects of my graduate school life, and that I'll often be going it alone. I'd just like to take the opportunity for some guidance while I have it, especially with someone I know well and trust.

Second, I have lost almost every iota of motivation I ever possessed to revisit this particular research. This was a study I completed three years ago now, and I haven't thought much about it or kept up with other relevant work on the subject since I finished writing my thesis. Lately, I haven't even been reading much in the way of the research I'm interested in now, instead slipping into a lazy pattern of pleasure reading and TV marathons. (None of these things bode well for my return to school in the fall. I should really, really try to reclaim some semblance of an academic mindset.) Even though I know I should be rewriting and resubmitting the article as soon as possible, I keep putting it off.

For any of you out there that may still be following this blog, how do you stay motivated to work on something you've been "finished" with for years? What's the best way to approach working on a paper in which you've (more or less) lost interest?

Cast Party

Last week was Trina's high school graduation. Although she technically 'graduated' at semester, having accrued enough credits to obtain her diploma, she held off getting the award so that she could attend the ceremonies and celebrate with her friends. She took full advantage of the opportunity-- family members came in from out of town and did touristy things (and bombarded the barn with requests for cart rides and horseback lessons); Trina bragged about the amount of money she'd received (everybody from her obscure not-quite-uncle in Colorado to the person Debbie pays to balance her checkbook every week sent something); gradation itself, with all the pomp and circumstance and dressing up and photographs; and to cap the week off, a party held at the house for Trina with at least 50 people in attendance (which I admittedly enjoyed, although I ended up working 14 hours straight that day).

At one point during the party, I found myself chatting with a woman named Irene, who has served as Trina's English tutor during her high school career, much as I've worked with Trina in all her science subjects. We were looking around at all the people in the room and taking note of just how many played some sort of role in helping Trina get through high school. Irene and English, me and science, another woman and math; Marlene, keeping the horses fit and trained; Joe, mucking out stalls and maintaining the grounds every day so each of those 14 horses remains healthy; another woman, Trina's personal trainer. A massage therapist, a nutritionist, a house cleaner, the guy that changes the oil in her car. All the privileges afforded to her by staggering affluence.

We asked ourselves, what kind of person would Trina be had she not had these people around her? How would her personality differ if she had to get up every morning and feed her own animals, clean the horses' stalls, and make sure they were properly exercised every day? How would her high school career have differed if she'd been responsible for taking good notes in class, asking the teacher questions if she didn't understand the material, studying for tests on her own? What would it be like if she had to set her alarm clock and get herself up and ready every morning, clean her own room, exercise on a regular schedule, feed her dog, and do chores around the house?

The sad part about that party was, that although it showed an enormous amount of support in the people around her, it also highlighted just how much she's missing. Because at 18 years of age and having graduated from high school, Trina is no more independent, responsible, determined, goal-oriented, mature, or prepared for college than an average middle school student.

So where Debbie thought she was helping Trina by providing unending support in the form of hordes of people to assist her every need, she's actually done Trina a huge disservice. Trina can do nothing for herself. She possesses neither the self-confidence and independence, nor the will to try. And that's a huge shame, because she's a relatively intelligent kid, and probably could have been headed places, had she just been given some basic responsibility and discipline.

I haven't thought about my own high school graduation in years. Probably not since I actually graduated from high school, which seems as if it were eons ago now. I dug up some old pictures this weekend from that year. I don't remember where I was in a lot of them, and I've long since forgotten the names of a lot of the people I was with. But I do remember that I had goals, and that I was looking forward to the future. I was planning on working full-time over the summer at the job I'd worked part-time all year, and the summer before that. I was going to go biking every day. I was headed to CLAS in the fall. I was going to major in biology, or studio art, or something similarly interesting. I was going to live away from home for the first time and become best friends with my roommate and learn to play a new sport.

I didn't manage to do everything I'd planned (I hardly biked at all that summer, and I ended up disliking my roommate a great deal). But I had a plan. Expectations for the future. Something to work toward.

So sitting at that party with Irene, looking at all the people who have pushed and prodded and dragged and tugged Trina toward success, I think we both realized the same thing. The party, although intended for Trina, was really more for us-- a celebration of our own successes making sure she passed her classes or had horses trained to run fast or had a well-maintained vehicle to drive around. Because although Trina now has a high school diploma for her mom to hang on the wall, we're the ones that made it through high school. Trina may be the headliner, but the cast made the production a success. And with the curtain down and the audience headed home, Trina is left without any aspirations for the future, because she's never had to do anything for herself, so she just doesn't know what it's like.

Although there will still be plenty of people around (at Debbie's will) to push and prod and drag and tug Trina toward whatever might come next, Trina will still be left empty-handed, the person at the center of the party who is-and-yet-isn't the cause for celebration. Everyone needs help sometimes, but it's been shoved down Trina's throat since day one. She's never had the opportunity to try something unassisted. She's never been given a solo act, so she doesn't know how to stand alone.

And I kind of feel sorry for her.

Debut

Despite my misgivings about the sincerity of their offer, Debbie and Trina for once stayed true to their word, and I had my first barrel race with Jet last week. It. Was. AWESOME. It's been such a long time since I've been racing (I think my last race with Belle was at the end of July or early August last year) that I'd almost forgotten how fun it is. And Jet is a blast to ride-- he's much more powerful than Belle, and far faster around the turns.

I was a little nervous about getting him in the gate, as his power tends to get the best of his rider and he occasionally decides it's up to him to do the driving. But Jet and I have been working together long enough now that all he needed was a little reminder from me up front ("Oh. You're still in control. Okay. I'll chill, then.") and he was great. He's a smooth runner, and so, despite my nerves, once we got going I was able to settle in and focus on what I needed to do to keep our turns sharp. With (mostly) good results. I netted my fastest time by far (attributable to his speed rather than anything I did), but I do really need to work on my first barrel and my timing.

Still, improvement comes with practice, and Debbie and Trina have yet (even now) to change their minds, so it looks as if I'll have plenty of time this summer to work on things with him. I know I'll always have to be prepared to lose him unexpectedly, as around here, things change rapidly and with little reason. But I'm slowly becoming more confident that he really will be all mine for the next few months. I already have plans for the coming weekend with him, and a few other jackpot races coming up in the next couple weeks. I'm also starting to envision other fun things for us to do-- trail rides, sorting practices, and maybe some light cattle work now and then.

I've been so happy the past few days, thinking about our first race together, how awesome it felt to be on a much higher-caliber barrel horse than those I've ridden before, and looking forward to racing on a regular basis again. This may very well be my last opportunity for a long while to horseback ride with any regularity, so I plan on making the most of it.

Summer, here I come! And Jet? He's coming with me.

Jet Set

In another strange, yet not entirely unexpected, change of circumstances on the ranch (which occur here rather more often than should be realistic), the proprietors of the business have decided that, since I'm off to graduate school in just four months, I really should have the opportunity to barrel race this summer, if I so choose.

Oh, I most definitely choose.

Just as quickly as Debbie and Marlene decided I could not use Louis (at Trina's whim, of course), they altered their intentions for their other available horses, creating new opportunities for me. Alright, that may not be entirely true. In all actuality, the lease on Jet fell through, and Trina is no longer interested in using Morgan, since she has Durango now, and recently purchased Bud, a futurity horse, with which to work. That leaves two well-bred, competitive western speed horses on the ranch being maintained for performance without actually being used to perform.

The upshot of all that is, this morning Marlene called me into the office and offered me use of both Morgan and Jet for the summer. I credit myself with a great deal of self control for not having laughed aloud at her proposal. Just a few days ago, I had been assured that there was no chance of me using even one of their good performance horses this summer. Now they're offering two?

It seems this time, however, I have reason to be cautiously optimistic. The benefit of them offering me the use of two horses (as opposed to one) is that, should Trina pitch a fit and decide she wants to claim one of them, again, as hers and hers alone, that should still leave one horse remaining for me to use. And I happen to like both horses a great deal, and have no overwhelming preference for one over the other.

I told them I'd start off with Jet. Although he's harder to control than Morgan and requires more finesse in handling, I've been working with him longer and have a better feel for him. Marlene did tell me, however, that even if I do decided to use Jet, there should be no reason why I couldn't race him one week and take Morgan the next, or take Jet to a race and Morgan to a gymkhana, or vice versa.

Jet is also a (somewhat) more secure choice. Although Trina still has lingering interest in riding Jet, the likelihood of him becoming suddenly 'off-limits' to me is smaller than with Morgan. First, they're in the process of attempting to breed Morgan. Assuming the pregnancy takes, although she'll still be able to run for many months, I imagine they'll want to be careful with her, and not push her too hard. Debbie, in particular, will likely become neurotic about her health and physical capabilities.

Second, they will never sell Jet. Marlene is too taken with him-- if they ever decide they don't want him on the ranch, Marlene will make sure she can purchase him. Morgan, on the other hand, will likely be sold at some point. If she does become pregnant they might choose to keep her for a brood mare. Otherwise, she is too solid a horse to be left around jobless. If they can't get her pregnant they'll move her on to another home. It may take months (or even years) for that to happen, but not necessarily. Should the right buyer come along, and the opportunity arises for her to go to a good family that will care for her properly, they would most certainly sell her-- even if it meant breaking a lease with me in the middle of the summer.

So Jet it is, tentatively, although I imagine I'll ask to try them both out at first. Perhaps I'll even trade back and forth for a time, because I really do like the two of them equally. If neither is being used, they should have no qualms with me working them both over the summer. Twice the number of horses should equal twice the opportunity for fun, right?

It is important to note that this could, of course, change immediately in the course of the next week or month (or day). If I've gained anything from this job, it has come in the form of a great deal of flexibility and nearly limitless patience. Which does, occasionally, pay off. I'll have a horse for the summer after all!

Horseless

This is my first attempt at reverting to posting on a regular basis. See? It's possible! Although I suppose I should give it a few weeks before I start feeling accomplished.

I realized that it's been a while since I've mentioned life on the ranch. Technically, I was supposed to have become Trina's full-time tutor at the beginning of the year, transitioning away from my position as a ranch hand to help her with her first semester of college.

Which I did. For a couple of weeks, I no longer worked in the barn at all, and instead helped Trina with her assignments, studying, and test preparations. Until she dropped all her classes and decided she didn't want to be in school.

Yeah. There's a long, ridiculous story there. But suffice to say that it ends with her being more or less aimless in life, and me going back to barn work until grad school.

I can't say I'm displeased. As rewarding as tutoring can be, and as much as I enjoy teaching, Trina is one of the least motivated students I've ever met, to the point of being obstinate. Debbie doesn't help matters, caving to the idea that Trina "just isn't smart enough" and that she needs her hand held in order to accomplish the simplest of tasks. Trina is smart enough to play her, again and again. She doesn't lack the intelligence to succeed, but the work ethic. Nothing I can do will change that.

The novelty of working on a ranch is starting to wear off, in part, I believe, because I'm no longer getting to 'play.' At the end of last summer, they decided to lease Belle, the mare I was using to race, to another family. Belle is in a great place, and is doing really well, but as a result I haven't been able to compete since August. When Belle left, there wasn't a really good 'replacement' for me to work with.

My riding abilities have improved since that time, to the point where a few of their other horses would now be suitable for me to use in barrel races. But of course, as with everything else here, there always ends up being some issue somewhere that prevents any semblance of ease.

First, it was suggested that I lease one of Marlene's horses. I thought this sounded like a solid idea. The problem was that two of her 'available' horses aren't broke, and the other two are trained for rough stock, and not speed-- instead of barrel racing and pole bending, they're ropers, cutters, and sorters.

Then, they decided I could use Jet. I was thrilled with this idea, as I love Jet's personality, and he can be pretty competitive. Just days after the suggestion, they had an offer to lease Jet during junior's rodeos, and Marlene decided she didn't want Jet run more than a couple times a month.

After Jet was out of the equation, I suggested Louis. Louis is a step up from Belle, and wasn't being used. Trina "hates" him. Their personalities clash, and they fight each other constantly. The intention was for Trina to stop using Louis entirely, continue to use her newest horse, Durango, in barrels, and purchase another horse to use as back-up.

Surprise, surprise, though, as soon as I started using Louis, the minute we started clicking as a team, Trina suddenly changed her mind about him, and decided she wanted him as her back-up. *sigh* That's the biggest problem with using any of Trina's horses. At any time, on her whim, the horse could be pulled out from under me.

Now we're nearing summer, and racing series are starting to pop up again. The days are lengthening, the weather improving, and it won't be too much longer before evening barrel races become weekly events. With only four months remaining before I quit the ranch and move, I want to take advantage of the time I have left here and the opportunities I have to ride.

I'd like to get something set up as soon as possible, but right now I'm at a loss at which angle to pursue. Trina's horses, in one way or another, are all more or less off-limits. Marlene's horses may not be suitable without extensive training-- and I'm certainly not well-versed enough in Horse to do the training myself. As for leasing outside of the ranch, I'm not sure I could afford it. I could lease a horse here at cost, just what it requires to pay for hay and sweet feed. Elsewhere I'd likely pay fees on top of that, and horses aren't cheap to lease. I'm trying to save money right now, and I just can't justify losing a couple hundred dollars a month (or more) just to barrel race.

Hopefully I'll be able to work something out. I really miss Belle. I outgrew her, to some extent, but I miss working with the same horse every day, and really developing that relationship. Very few days go by when I don't ride, but riding as a job and riding for fun are two very different beasts.

Moving Forward

April 15th has come and gone, and, officially, I will be heading to graduate school this fall at West Coast University. I did not receive any other offers, so in the end there was no choice for me to make. The decision simply came down to whether or not I wanted to go to school at WCU. I STILL haven't received official notification from four of the schools to which I applied. I'm reminded again how ludicrous this process has been. For the amount of time and money I invested in applying, I would have hoped (both this year and last) to have received more timely responses from programs. To some extent, though, it no longer matters. I was admitted somewhere, I accepted the offer, and I'll soon start working toward my PhD.

I've become a great deal more excited about the prospect of attending WCU after having accepted the offer of admission. The fact that everything is now concrete, the solidity of being able to expect what's in the future, that I can finally start making actual plans toward moving on with my life, has all been cathartic. I am, of course, nervous at the prospect of moving thousands of miles from home. And there are still unknowns in play-- the difficulty of the coursework, of balancing teaching, classes, research, homework; the departmental politics; the incoming cohort and how I may or may not fit in; how quickly I'll be able to find my bearings in a new environment; whether my research ideas will play out in a timely fashion; whether I'll be able to feed myself on my paltry stipend.

I admittedly still have some reservations about the department, specifically in regards to required coursework. I keep reminding myself, however, that everyone has reservations about their programs, and that, even though current grad students at WCU have often complained about how frustrating courses can be, they've all remarked (begrudgingly, perhaps) that they've found the material more useful the farther they've gotten into their research. I'll have to keep that in mind for next year.

For now, however, the feeling of finally being able to work toward something again, of finally being able to embark toward the next stage of my life, is helping suppress all misgivings or doubts. I'm in! I'm funded! I'm going to graduate school!

Thirty Days

There are exactly thirty days remaining until I must make my final decision about graduate school and submit a binding contract to guarantee a funded spot for the fall. In some ways, the idea of making a decision is quite formidable. But at this point it looks as if there will be no decision to make-- I only have one acceptance.

I still have five schools from which I have not heard, but I found out pretty early on last year that in biological sciences acceptances are made long before rejections. I plan on being more persistent this year, though. If I still haven't received notifications (one way or another) from the remaining five schools by the end of this week, I plan on contacting them all for an update. I simply can't afford to wait around anymore. If I receive a funded acceptance it's going to be pretty important for me to make a visit to the program before I make my decision, and with the Council of Graduate Schools' April 15th deadline looming on the horizon, the time left in play for such visits is becoming shorter by the day.

For some reason, I've found it hard to be excited about my acceptance to West Coast University. It makes little sense-- I've spent the past two years trying to get into grad school and I finally received a funded offer from a decent school. It was an early acceptance, too. I wasn't just a third- or fourth-go candidate. I was a top pick. I like the current grad students in the lab, I like the city. Hell, I even have friends in the area. I think the professor and I would get along, and I'd be given plenty of flexibility in choosing exactly what I want to research.

So why is it that I'm not happy about it?

I have no idea. Really. Early onset impostor syndrome? No-acceptances-last-year-and-only-one-this-year feelings of psychological inadequacy? Not-the-perfect-fit disease? Or perhaps it's the fact that during this whole process, when I was accepted to West Coast U, the interview at my top-choice program, Metro U, was still ahead. I became so emotionally invested in the idea of attending Metro U that everything palled in comparison, and nothing was as good as, or could be as good as, an acceptance there.

Then, of course, I received my rejection from Metro U. After a few days of deep-seated unhappiness, I started trying to reevaluate and come to better terms with West Coast U. And slowly, very slowly, I've begun to feel inklings of something like happiness about the acceptance, and I have every hope that eventually I'll be just as excited about West Coast U as I did about Metro U.

I still haven't heard from my second- or third-choice schools. So perhaps there is still a chance that I'll get to make a decision, after all. I'm counting down to April 15th. A whole host of new challenges and difficulties will await me after I've signed the contract off. But at least I won't be waiting on damned admissions notifications anymore.

I'm in

I received notification last week about an acceptance to the graduate program at West Coast University, complete with a short-term funding package. A not-so-great-but-better-than-nothing funding package. A living-with-three-roommates-and-eating-noodles-and-beans funding package. Ah, well. It's better than nothing, I suppose.

I thought I'd be excited, but I'm more relieved than anything. West Coast University falls in the middle of the list of schools I'd most like to attend, so although it's not my first (or second, or third) choice, I know now that I won't be shut out again this year, and I will definitely be heading to grad school in the fall!

I'm still waiting to hear back from MetroU about final admissions decisions post-interview. Interviewing was a strange experience-- I enjoyed it, liked meeting the current grad students and professors at the school, and I like the program a great deal, but I feel it's difficult to gauge a department's interest when they're simultaneously courting and judging candidates. It's a strange sort of game, one in which I wouldn't have been surprised to hear an interviewer say, "If we admit you, we REALLY want you to come here! If we admit you. We might not. We might like someone else better. We're not sure yet. But if we do, you should definitely come here, and not go to another school. Okay?"

I really hope I get an acceptance from MetroU sometime in the next couple weeks. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised with a rejection letter. I'm competing with more than fifty other individuals vying for spots in the department as a whole, and I've figured my chances of admission to the specific lab to which I applied to be roughly 25%, give or take 25% (there is some logic in that estimate, although I can't explain it here). Not impossible, but the odds aren't great. That being said, I think my research interests are a great fit, and I think I'm well-suited to the program as a whole. I'd really love to get another acceptance, especially from MetroU, so I'll continue to wait it out and keep my fingers crossed for more good news.

A Love Letter

Dear Top Choice School,

I love you.

You don't know me, and we've never met, but I know you. I've been internet-stalking you for weeks.

Wait! Before you decide I'm a total creeper and run off, never to look back, give me a chance!

We were made for each other, you and I. You don't know it yet, but you need me just as much as I need you (Okay, maybe that's true. I certainly need you. Really, really need you.) We could change each other-- help one another work towards lofty goals, push the other toward success and notoriety and respect.

In the evenings I sit around and fantasize about our life together. Oh how wonderful we would be as a team!

I know it's not right, not healthy. There are other schools out there (but none that, on paper, I like better than you!). And there are other students. Perhaps you'll find someone else you like better, someone smarter, or with more experience, or with more charm.

And then I'll be sad. Devastated. Because that's how much I've grown to love you. You see, I know we fit together perfectly, like yin and yang, or two pieces of a puzzle.

Hopefully, we'll meet each other soon, and I can show you what I mean when I say that you were made for me. Hopefully, you'll give me a chance, and will really let me lay everything out on the table, why my hopes and dreams can best be fulfilled with you, how I'm getting to the point where I can't imagine doing my research without you. And hopefully you won't mistake my eagerness for desperation, or my enthusiasm for avarice.

Just give me a chance, Top Choice School! Please! I know you're looking at other students, and maybe they're more qualified than I am, or maybe you're more attracted to them for other reasons I can't see. I don't know. But if you give me the opportunity to plead my case, if you set me up for success, I know you'll see in me, in us, what I've seen all along. We belong together.

Please, Top Choice School. Love me back. Accept me. You won't regret it.

Love,
jax

(Not creepy at all, right?)

No News is No News

It's almost February. If I'm lucky (and correctly informed), I should start hearing back from programs in February. If, of course, I've been accepted. If not, it will likely be the end of March before I receive rejection letters, like last year.

I've tried to figure out the most likely time frame for notification of acceptances, using departmental guidelines listed on school's websites as well as a thorough scanning of the Grad Cafe's results list from previous years. This is an inexact science, so my estimates could be WAY off base, but from what I can gather February is usually the month with the most acceptances, and anything after that tends to be rejections. There are a couple late acceptances here and there, most in the first week of March. A few random stragglers (probably waitlisted candidates that got lucky) hear into the first week in April. But these are all different schools and different programs from those to which I applied, and there's really no telling when I'll hear what.

I hate waiting, because I can't stop thinking about it. Maybe I'll get lucky and get an acceptance next week. That way, at least I could chill out a little and not have to worry about getting rejected across the board. Again.

The Waiting Game

The time span between January and mid-April last year was one of the worst I've ever experienced, simply because of the uncertainty surrounding graduate school applications. Schools give rough guidelines as to when to expect admissions decisions, but each school deviates from these, and sometimes individuals are notified much earlier or later than the dates stated on schools' websites, depending on funding, waitlisting, committee meetings, and a myriad of other factors. There wasn't a day that went by last year that I didn't think to myself, "Maybe today will be the day." It's surprising how fast your confidence starts to dry up when February passes and you haven't heard anything. By the middle of February last year, I was pretty well convinced (although not entirely without hope) that I wasn't going to be accepted anywhere. And I was right.

I'm trying not to do that this year. It will be tough, and I'm already failing to some extent. I haven't yet reached the point where I'm obsessively checking my inbox, but I have been thinking about it a lot. I just hope this year that I'll get good news early and can chill out a little and let things run their course afterward. My ultimate goal is to get accepted (with funding) somewhere, but what I'd really like is to have a choice as to where I end up. Even if it's just between two schools, I think the decision-making process will go a long way in helping me transition into grad school, and in knowing I'm headed to the place that's right for me.

I applied to 8 schools:

-New England University
-Midwestern University
-Large Western University
-West Coast University
-UC Somewhere
-Eastern University
-Metropolitan University and
-Old University

As of today, I've only heard from one school, Metropolitan University, where I was invited to interview in February. There's every possibility that I'll interview and won't be accepted (I found out the department is interviewing around 50 candidates for 10-16 spots), but it's a step in the right direction nonetheless. I did receive a somewhat-promising-yet-still-circumspect email from one professor at West Coast University, but he reiterated that final admissions decisions won't be made until the beginning of February. So I suppose for now I'll be planning my trip to MetroU, waiting to hear something definitive, and trying to stay sane.

A Matter of Trust

Late last week, I received a terrible email. I read the title and my heart sunk. I literally felt as if I'd swallowed it. I didn't know what to do or what to think. So I stood there, staring at it, reading it again and again, trying to find some loophole or punchline somewhere, or waiting for someone to hop out from behind the door and shout "Gotcha! Just kidding!"

But no one did.

The email was from the National Science Foundation. It said, in short, that one of my references had failed to submit a recommendation letter on my behalf. That as a result, my application was considered incomplete, and will not be considered for the Graduate Research Fellowship.

I trust (trusted?) my references. All three are professors at my undergraduate institution. I had extensive interaction with all three-- coursework, advising, fieldwork, travel. I feel that I know all three pretty well, and that, in turn, they know me.

Before I left for my winter fieldwork at the beginning of November, I contacted all three. I made sure they were still willing to serve as references on my behalf. I sent them each a list of the schools and fellowships to which I was applying, and the deadlines for each. I made sure that, after I'd completed my applications, they'd received links and instructions for submitting each letter to each location. I stressed to each of them that I would be in the field and away from internet access for six weeks, a time period encompassing every single application deadline, and that I would be unable to check to make sure they'd submitted their recommendation letters on time.

That, to me, was perhaps most important. They've served as references for me in the past, and last year had no trouble getting their letters in on time. Had I been here, at home, during November and December, I likely would have checked every few days to see if they'd submitted letters or not, and I certainly would have checked every day leading up to submission deadlines. Especially for the NSF GRFP.

I worked really hard on my NSF application this year. I completely re-wrote my research proposal and personal statement, and made significant changes to my research background essay. I asked for feedback and advice from two of my undergraduate advisers and two potential graduate advisers. I went through three drafts-- something I rarely do. I felt really, really good about that application. And, considering I received an honorable mention last year and was able to incorporate the advice I received from last years' reviewers, I felt I had a good shot at winning one of those illusive fellowships this time round.

All of that gone to waste, because someone I was counting on failed to come through. That, perhaps, is the most frustrating, the most disappointing, part of it all-- that the NSF won't consider my application because of something someone else was supposed to have done. Through no fault of my own.

After I received the email I accessed FastLane to see which of my three references had failed to submit a letter. It hadn't even occurred to me to check FastLane when I got back from my fieldwork stint at the end of December. For one thing, I knew it was too late at that point to do anything about it, and, for another, I'd received emails from several schools about having received recommendation letters, which led me to believe that all three of my references had submitted their letters on time.

I called my former thesis adviser, Walt, and asked for his advice. I wasn't sure how to approach the situation, if there was anything, anything at all, that I could do. And I didn't want to interact with the person who forgot the letter, because I wouldn't even know what to say.

He was shocked to hear that said person hadn't submitted his letter. It is extremely uncharacteristic of him, and, of my three references, he's typically the most reliable. Perhaps something had gone wrong, then? Perhaps the issue was on NSF's end, and not on mine? Walt told me he'd look into and get back to me. Later that day, he sent me a brief email, that said only, "We put a call into NSF. Hang tight."

I really wish he'd been more detailed. Does this mean that the letter in question had been submitted, but had gotten lost somewhere in cyberspace? Does this mean that, maybe, just maybe, it was something the NSF did, and not my reference, that resulted in an incomplete application? Is there any teensy tiny itty bitty measly little squitty chance that the NSF will realize some sort of mistake and reconsider my application? Or is it really just that my reference forgot, didn't submit on time, and I'll be left to deal with the implications, and the idea that all the work I put into my application this year will be for nothing, and that my application won't even be reviewed?

I hope I hear back from them soon. I just want to know, one way or the other. But right now, it really does look as if I won't even have a shot at the NSF GRF this year. And there's nothing I can do, or could have done, about it.

What a great way to start off in 2011, eh?

EDIT: It's official. NSF returned my reference's inquiries. They will not consider my application this year. *heavy sigh*

2010: Looking Back, Looking Ahead

Last year, when I started writing out my goals for the year ahead, the idea that I would be facing the dreaded "failed application year" was more of a faint possibility. Had I realized then that I'd be spending 2010 doing nearly the exact opposite of what I'd planned, my list of things to do would have been radically different. This is what my list looked like:

2010: Stuff I'd like to do

-Publish the results of my thesis
-Upgrade my DSLR (low priority)
-Get accepted to grad school
-Get the National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship
-Move to a new city
-Start grad school
-Choose a research topic for my dissertation
-Apply for the NSF GRFP (if I don't get it in April)
-Select an adviser

Out of that list, I accomplished two things: I upgraded my DSLR, and reapplied for the NSF grant. Ironic, perhaps, that the item on my list with the lowest priority was one of only two things I managed to check off. I upgraded my camera in early May. I decided to drown my sorrows in expensive, delicious camera equipment. Which I suppose is both better and worse than alcohol and/or antidepressants. Probably.

The other things on my list? Well, the results of my thesis are currently in review, until an undetermined time in the future when the journal decides to get back to me. So, although I made some progress there, publication didn't happen. I did not get accepted to grad school, get the NSF GRF, move to a new city, start grad school, choose a research topic, or select an adviser. So I didn't do so well.

2010: A Year in Review

What did I do in 2010? Well, I:
-Worked on a horse ranch
-Started barrel racing and even managed to win some money
-Attended and presented at the American Society of Mammalogist's annual conference
-Visited several graduate schools to meet with potential advisers
-Reapplied to graduate school, and reapplied for the NSF GRFP
-Had the opportunity to do some really cool winter fieldwork

All in all, it was a tough year. Although I enjoyed a lot of 2010, the overall theme (e.g. failing to get into grad school, worrying about keeping my job, moving around, etc.) wasn't what I'd hoped. I suppose I just have to keep my fingers crossed that 2011 will be a little brighter.

2011: Stuff I'd like to do

Unsurprisingly, my list of goals for 2011 is very similar to that for 2010.

-Publish the results of my thesis
-Get accepted to grad school
-Get the National Science Foundation Graduate Research Fellowship
-Move to a new city
-Start grad school
-Choose a research topic for my dissertation
-Apply for the NSF GRFP (if I don't get it in April)
-Select an adviser

I should probably add a few other things in there, just in case I don't get accepted again this year and need something to accomplish. So I'll go ahead and add

-Print more of my photographs

That, at least, I know I can do.