mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Plan B? Wasn't It Someone Elses Job to Come Up With Plan B? Thank you for your input on the graduate school interview. In the end, I bought a new suit. This is a professional program and I thought it might be best to at least pretend I am a professional. While I was buying the new suit, I saw some new shoes and purchased those as well. I also decided to get a haircut a little sooner then I might have if I didn't have this interview. Oh, and I got my eyebrows done too. And Monday AM, just before the interview I am getting my nails done. If I got them done any sooner, I'd surely chip the polish. So yeah, I'm cleaning myself up a bit. I haven't mentioned this but my odds are about one in ten of getting into this program. They only accept 25 to 30 candidates per year. I probably shouldn't focus on that too much, huh? I did get the interview agenda. I meet with a program director and visiting committee member for about 45 minutes. Then I am linked up with another potential student for a "group activity" for an hour. Then there is "group analysis and discussion." Finally, we have some "closure." I have to warn you that if this group activity involves falling backwards with my eyes closed into the arms of this unknown human being to build trust, I'm walking. You know what's not coming across in this entry? Just how frightened I am. I'm a mess. I really am. I mean, I know it's not the end of the world if I don't get into this program but last night Pete asked what my Plan B was and you know what I told him? I said "I'll just take a lot of trips and work on my sewing and maybe I'll learn to sail. I've always wanted to learn to sail. I could do one of those baking classes at Culinary Communion and maybe I'll join a running club." He looked at me like I had three heads. "What do any of those things have to do with your career mobility? Are you saying that if you don't make it into this program you're just going to become a lady of leisure?" Um, yeah. No, okay, I'm not but really I'm not sure what I will do. I could apply to another program somewhere else but this program is really specialized and well respected and basically what I want to do. Is it okay to come up with a Plan B later on? Like after Plan A fails? Speaking of Plan B, my gynecologist suggested I freeze a few eggs during our last appointment. Just out of the blue she said, "You know, you might want to preserve these. I know you're not planning on having children but you never know. Maybe someone in your family can use them if you don't want them or you could sell them. You are of good stock." It was a completely bizarre conversation and so casual, as if she were suggesting I pack an extra pair of underwear when traveling in case of an emergency. The anniversary is tomorrow - 5 years! Time goes by so fast. We leave for a cozy cabin in Mt. Hood, complete with a hot tub and a fireplace. We'll do some hiking, some reading, some cooking, some soaking and I will do everything I can to keep my mind off Monday and just relax. I do need to pay homage to Pete before I sign off. I am a very lucky woman. Pete is a very thoughtful and supportive partner. I never spoke of this here, but do you know this man moved twice to accommodate me? And this was even before we had a proper commitment to one another. First he uprooted himself from St. Thomas to move to NYC and be closer to me. Sadly, just as he was making that move, I got the job on the cruise ship. Pete decided to settle in Brooklyn and wait for my return. One afternoon, I called him from Juneau and said I had no plans to return to the East. I was going to move to Seattle. Less then one week later, that man boarded a train West (having never been out West at all) to be with me. Both moves were big gambles for him. He had few friends in NY and none at all in Seattle. Each move required him to make risky career jumps. Did I already mention he had never, ever been to the West Coast? He just had to trust me that this would work out. And somehow, it did. Frequently, I come home from work and Pete has arrived shortly before me and filled the house with flowers. He's wiped down the counters and poured me a glass of Shiraz. He has the radio playing the CD of the moment and he meets me at the door with a kiss. Sometimes, I say "I want to travel to __________" and the next day Pete will walk through the door with travelogues for that area. Or I'll mention a movie I'd like to see and he'll rent it without further prompting. He's the type of guy who files away all those times I look longingly at some necklace/jacket/pair of shoes/etc. in a store front and later surprises me with that exact necklace/jacket/pair of shoes/etc. One time, I had to have two teeth extracted and it was very painful. Pete took me home, carried me to bed, wrapped me in blankets, and later cleaned up all my vomit (I took too many painkillers) without complaint. Pete is always there to celebrate my victories. He also sympathizes with me over my losses. He laughs at 99% of my jokes. I laugh at 99% of his. Everyday he makes me smile. I am a better person for knowing him. Much love and many more years Pete. 4:55 p.m. - 2005-03-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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