The last year has been beautiful

The last year has been beautiful.

I figured out how to better split domestic responsibilities with Michael and adopted the life-changing weekly spousal one-on-one meeting. I relished no longer having dinner be my problem. I went on daily walks with Maggie and Michael and marveled at the beauty of our home in the San Francisco Bay Area. I biked around San Francisco and enjoyed excellent food with Michael and Maggie, our very good girl. I took a multitude of pictures of Maggie and cut and threw endless pieces of carrots and green beans and radishes for her. I expanded the "foods dogs can eat" list on the fridge. I picked up trash and Maggie's and other dogs' poop at the park. I discovered a great new hike we can enjoy with Maggie. I comforted and distracted Maggie during thunderstorms and fireworks. I had Wellness Wednesdays workouts, dinner, and learning with Michael, Claire, and Maggie.

I took drastic measures to eliminate invasive weeds, built new garden beds, and coaxed the garden to be more like my vision, with strawberries, raspberries, passion fruit, olallieberries, lavender, snapdragons, carnations, blueberries, corn, onions, tomatoes, garlic, green beans, radishes, carrots, potatoes, lemons, limes, pomegranates, plums, apples, avocadoes, peppers, tree dahlias, lettuce, bok choy, nasturtium, cala lilies, camellias, hydrangeas, and more. I sorted a ridiculous amount of objects, mostly trash, dug up in the yard.

I created a baking calendar to make and enjoy my favorite goodies over the course of each year. After Reading How Not to Die, I adopted a vegetarian diet and developed a really healthy and delicious smoothie recipe. I had a delightful conversation with the person in the painting I inherited from my artist grandfather. I meditated and savored my bed. I mourned the decline of Twitter. I set app limits and loved it. I became overwhelmed with all the things I wanted to do. I drew boundaries. I finally processed an email that had been in my inbox for years. I paid someone else to take the headache of taxes for the first time this year and was ecstatic when we filed a few days ago.

I grew as an empathetic manager and cheered on many people at Techtonica. I was censured for advocating for inclusion. I received a raise. I lost a job. I learned about negotiating severance and shared what I learned. Layoffs caused hiring partners to back out of their agreements, so I negotiated contract terminations and found solutions for unplaced grads and launched a new Techtonica program to support past grads looking for jobs. I said goodbye to Techtonica's Partnerships Manager of three years and interviewed and negotiated with job candidates before hiring someone amazing who starts next week. I became the resident feedback expert. I learned about and advised and played Gartic Phone with Techtonica participants. I gathered feedback, implemented changes at Techtonica, and had the satisfaction of seeing participants and staff members thrive. I learned to stop working in the evenings.

I picked up antique woodwork and furniture restoration. I figured out how to safely and effectively strip lead paint through a lot of trial and error while devouring audio books at 2.5x. I acquired a foosball table, Eastlake furniture, and a barrister bookcase. I dusted off my piano skills and the perfect 1895 piano built in San Francisco and learned a song I've liked since I heard a friend play it in Leipzig. I visited lovely historic houses and joined an old house community. I saw a tiny Buddhist temple and learned about the history of Chinese people in Mendocino County. I installed rope caulk, bronze weatherstripping, and portières to make the winter less miserable for us.

After years of mostly business writing, I started writing for me again. I researched my great uncle who died the year I was born and found out some fascinating things about him from past students and schools he worked at, then wrote about him and my grandma. I received a letter in shorthand from my grandma to treasure forever.

I continued to learn about and try to be a better advocate of anti-racism. I managed not to suffer too much from allergies with a dog in the house, but was sick and had a mysterious skin bump and weird allergic reactions to stuff outside. I started having my prescriptions mailed, and was relieved that my doctor could prescribe the restricted daily allergy medicine, Allegra D, that I'd been buying every two weeks for years. I discovered the best non-fogging, sanitizable, breathable mask, Airgami. I lost my keys. I bought two of the most comfortable Duluth coveralls for projects but then couldn't stand to make them dirty.

I appreciated over 100 books, especially A Little Life, Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine, and Ejaculate Responsibly. I was in charge of the monthly family book club, mostly so I could talk to my family each month. I donated to organizations planting trees every month in hopes of curbing climate change. I grumbled about cars and smoke and noisy motorcycles and junk mail and sexism and people painting woodwork and more.

I enjoyed visits and email and text and cute and funny video exchanges with friends and family.

I'm pleased with the life I've built and who I've become and I hope to grow and experience like this over the next year, too.

Tl;dr: Life has been very full in the last year and I'm looking forward to more.

San Francisco Apartment Hunt 2014

Before even moving away, we knew that finding an apartment in San Francisco again was going to be a chore, and that prices would make us gasp because a one-bedroom is about three times the cost of my parents' monthly mortgage payment, but that didn't prevent us from getting to the absolutely-discouraged state during the process. A lot of that had to do with the drama of dealing with our quirky old landlord.

Since our previous landlord had been so sad to see us go/loved us so much, and we had loved his building, we wrote him an email very ahead of time saying that we were coming back and asking if he had a place available. It turned out that the apartment we loved the most was to be available about the time we would be back, so we said we were interested. He, however, was un-budge-able on the price, which was higher than we were expecting. His reasoning? He'd just had the building repainted and had put a laundry room in the basement (which wouldn't have happened if I hadn't cleaned out the basement for him), as if he wanted us to single-handedly pay for those things.

We finally told him that we'd go for it, but every exchange had us feeling very condescended upon. First he said that he didn't like that Michael was still in school and that at least I needed a local job first. It seemed absolutely crazy to me to ask me to quit my job to rent from him. Clearly landlords in San Francisco are feeling high and mighty with the ridiculous market. He also asked us how he could trust that we would stay for the entire term of the lease, since last time we left early. I checked, and we left just ten days early. Never once had he mentioned that us leaving early was a problem; if he had, I would have just stayed another ten days and sent Michael off to Shanghai. I felt like he'd forgotten how pleased he was with us when we left. We went more than the extra mile for him and it felt so horrible for him to have forgotten that. After seething for a few hours, we offered to pay six months of rent upfront. After Michael arrived in San Francisco and went to meet with this landlord, not only was I majorly disappointed to find out that the garden I'd worked so hard on had fallen into disrepair, but the monthly rent was being raised another $195 from the price we had already struggled with and finally agreed to! Michael and I spent several hours chatting that night, I in St. Petersburg, and he in San Francisco. We had the hardest time making a decision, and a few days later we finally emailed the landlord to tell him so. His response? "A studio would probably be better for you until you both have jobs." I wanted to write him and say, "We will still be looking for a one bedroom, thank you very much." Once he told us that the apartment was rented, there were some moments of regret, but mostly we said, "Well, at least we don't have to deal with him anymore."

Michael tore up the town looking for an apartment, but it didn't help him that I have no tangible ways to spot an apartment that is "charming" by my definition. After we lost one place due to the quickness of the market and another because we were waiting for my boss to send some documentation, we were very frustrated. By this time, I was back in California with him and we were staying at his parents' house 45 minutes away from San Francisco. We spent our mornings and evenings driving to and from San Francisco in Michael's mom's car. While Michael attended classes and meetings, I worked on my laptop at Hult and re-parked the car every two hours. We went to a lot of apartment viewings, but there was always enough wrong with the place that we weren't all that excited about taking it. We were finally happily surprised to be approved for a place that, as Michael put it, "Was really a studio with a wall installed in the middle to make it into a one bedroom." The price was great, but I asked if we could see it one more time before deciding. The manager told us that we could, but we'd have to sign immediately after or she'd contact the next person. We were supposed to meet her that evening, so we felt the pressure of needing to decide before then.

And then something unexpected happened. Michael found a new posting on Craigslist, and as we looked at the pictures, we both said, "We have to get this one." It was in Pacific Heights, which is known for being one of the nicest places in the city, the rent was lower than a lot of places we had seen in Lower Nob Hill (which is usually cheaper), it had calming green walls, the kitchen was big enough for a table and it had a large, new oven, there were lovely windows (twelve of them!) that let in a lot of light, and wood floors. To make things unbelievably good, there was parking included! (Even though we don't have car, that was an amazing plus that few in the city ever get.) Michael immediately wrote a very nice email introducing us and asking if we could see the place early. Unfortunately, we couldn't see the place until the following weekend, which was a whopping four days away, so we had to take a leap of faith and let go of the studio-with-a-wall-one-bedroom.

During the following days, we filled out the application for the place and printed it out, collected multiple supporting documents, cut Michael's hair, and nervously twiddled our thumbs. The day of the showing, we got dressed up, found a nice folder for our application and documents, and headed into the city. There was a Hult barbecue that morning, and though we left the barbecue thirty minutes early, the combination of dropping off a friend and trying to find parking made us a few minutes late. I was so worried that we'd missed our chance to make a good impression, especially when we found that the door was locked and no one was answering the doorbell. After many frantic minutes of trying to reach someone at the management company, someone left the showing and let us into the building.

The place was packed, but we could still see that we loved it, so we found the man taking applications. Someone was monopolizing his time, so we went and stood right in front of him. Finally, I stuck out my hand and said, "Hi, I'm Michelle." Michael forgot to introduce himself, but the man seemed to remember us from our email and accepted our application. There wasn't much more to say after that, so we headed downstairs to take a look at the laundry room and garage. It seemed so anti-climactic, like we hadn't had a chance to stick out among the crowd. So we went back upstairs to ask some questions. This time, we seemed to connect with the man from the property management company a little more. Just at the point when we thought the conversation was over, Michael realized that the man had jerked his head to the side to say, "Follow me." We met him in the hallway and he said, "Right now it's basically between you and one other person." I have no idea how he could already know that. I put my hands together and asked, "If I tell you a joke, will you give it to us?" At least that got a laugh out of him. Even though I had warned Michael not to ask, he threw out there, "Why is the place so cheap? Is there something wrong with it?" I winced, but the man just kindly said that he'd looked at the market (I thought, "Maybe a year ago") and it seemed fair and that he didn't want to rip people off. We sent him a thank you email with an Uncle Al joke included.

The next day, we received an email asking for a copy of another pay stub. Since I was already in San Francisco, I couldn't pull out my folder with such documents until late that evening, and when I did, I saw that I only had one pay stub; the others must have been packed away somewhere. I frantically emailed my boss, but he didn't answer the next day, so I contacted his partner, who said he'd get on it, and I sent a very firm message saying that I absolutely had to have it or I would lose another apartment. That whole night, I was sick to my stomach with worry. I tossed and turned and checked my phone more times than I can count. In the morning, there was still nothing from my boss or his partner. Michael and I drove into the city, very disappointed and quiet. After his class, Michael came and sat by me and though we were both really down, he held my hand and offered up a pleading, last-hope prayer. We decided we both just needed to look for local jobs as quickly as possible and then maybe we'd be able to find a place. We sat there, dejected. Finally, at some point, I checked my phone and realized I'd missed a call from the real estate company. I nervously called back, and the man we'd met at the showing said, "Yes, I thought I should call you, because there's a lease here with your name on it." WHAT?!? He went on to tell me that he'd convinced the company that we were a "cool couple" (his words, not mine) and that they could wait to get the other pay stub from us.

And that is how we ended up in this place:




Of course, no place is perfect. We realized after we moved in that the apartment is right on the corner of two busy streets (one of which is the street that my mom's grandparents lived on and is the surname of good friends), and because the windows are old and because those two streets seem to be on the ambulance and fire truck route, it's pretty loud. (I'm hoping to make it a little quieter using sound-absorbing furnishings.) After a week of parking Michael's mom's car in the garage (while she was out of the country), we found out that there's a building-wide waiting list, and the spot vacated by the previous tenant of our place actually goes to the next person on the list. Fortunately, the rental company then lowered our rent $150 per month to amend the mistake. Also, for some reason the place is plagued with mosquitoes, so I often have to conduct a mosquito hunt before I can sleep. The location is really close to a clean, nice park, and I love to walk around looking at beautiful Victorian houses, but it's six blocks farther away from downtown than our old place was and biking up the last hill is a killer no matter which direction you come from.





I love the calming greens and all the light (I've even thought I needed to turn off a light only to find that it wasn't on). I love the crystal doorknobs and French doors. It's great that I've been able to fill the place with air-purifying plants and that the rental company sent out a repairman to put new seals on the windows. It's so nice to have laundry in the building, and the kitchen and bedroom have more storage than we need.



You can't really see the plant on the table, but I thought it was some kind of lavender when I saw it and am now so happy to know about Russian sage. Its colors make me so happy.



(Apparently English ivy absorbs fecal matter from the air so of course I put it in the bathroom.)



This gorgeous succulent (an Echeveria "Tippy") matches the wall perfectly, and the tasteful shelf built over the heater is nice.

Quite honestly, though, I have NO IDEA what to do with a whole extra room! It seems so luxurious and it's still quite empty. Filling it up has been a slow process as I've tried to use Freecycle and Craigslist for everything and we've needed to rent cars on Getaround to pick up furniture. We still need some rugs (which are shockingly expensive!), a desk, a sofa cover that matches the color scheme, and some kind of seating, and then maybe it won't feel so empty and overwhelming. Here it is empty:

Once I figure out what to do with the living room, I'll post another picture.

Hurray for a lovely new home!

My Incomparable Morning Routine

Pray to say thank you for my many blessings, ask for blessings for me and for my family, discuss my life, etc.
Make some breakfast (My favorite is probably bread with yogurt. Or crepes.) to eat while I:
Read my scriptures. This includes:

• Book of Mormon, two pages or something I really need or some indexing.
• A page of "The Holy Temple" brochure by Boyd K. Packer
• A section of "For the Strength of Youth" pamphlet.
• A section of my patriarchal blessing.
• My "Talk to Yourself" personal mission statement.
• My notes from a general conference talk or a talk or lesson in church.
  

Review something about the German language.
Exercise. This includes:

• Doing back and shoulder and stomach exercises.
• Picking up a bunch of things with my feet, roll around on a ball, etc.
• Going jogging or swimming.
  

Play the piano at the church.
Shower.
Check Facebook.
Read all the new blog entries on my Google Reader.
Read my emails.

That's why I get up early. Otherwise I'd never get anything done.

Pre-Christmas Trip Activities

Deep clean the kitchen, which included risking my life by standing on the window ledge to clean windows that haven't been cleaned ever since the sink was installed (who knows when that was?) and knocking over the mop water right as my roommate came home, thus soaking my house shoes and everything else and annoying me to no end. Check.

Re-awaken my carpal tunnel, even with my wrist braces, through a lot of writing. Check.

Look all over for a very German, very cheap nativity scene for my mom. Check on the look. Get some tips from a lady on facebook. Check.




Sluff Chinese and training at the gym to get stuff done. Check.

Show up for appointments at the voice doctor, physical therapist, and other doctors, and get the swine flu shot. Check.

Go to Dresden to hear Vocalis Chor sing and get Antje to pose so I can get a good picture of this very Sunset Boulevard-ish lady. Check.




Pay the last of my tithing and sign with the bishop. Check.

Give out some random presents to some good people. Check.

Go to the ward Christmas party. Check.




Call Elfriede and Lin Wo to get together. Fail.

Kife a Stolle that was promised to me. Check.

Try to get this cutesy boy to smile at the ward Christmas party. Check on the try.




Pick up my semi-damaged suitcase from Mike. Check.

Pack that suitcase with things for the family at 6 AM on the day you're to leave. Don't forget the ingredients for Stollen. Check.

Leave a little something on the table for the roommates, hand over my keys to a friend, and be ready to make it to the train station before 8:11 AM to make it to Frankfurt airport on time. Check.

My Larval New Job

Did I tell you about my new job? All I seem to do now is to worry about our kitchen. I wipe off counters and clean up crumbs and try to put everybody else's food away. My main job is to kill moths, larvae, and fleas. Our kitchen was completely attacked by them. At first I hoped they would go away since I could see the main problem wasn't coming from my food and my roommates are out of town, but when the problem didn't solve itself, I used two plastic bags as gloves and went through all my roommates' food. There were worms and eggs in the pasta, in the flour, in the baking ingredients, in the tea, in the cardboard, everywhere! I threw away a huge amount of their food (I would say sorry, but I'm not really). Every time I saw another larva that had found its way to the wall, I vacuumed it up immediately. I couldn't get the ones in the corners, so those I sprayed with windex. Hee.

I'm verrrry grateful that a friend of mine cleaned out the vacuum for me. I'm pretty sure there was no bag in there . . .

Now, several weeks later, we're still having problems. What to do? My roommates are back, but so far my strict instructions to have everything in Tupperware or glass or packaged well in the fridge are not being followed. I don't know where the problem is coming from now. I don't see larvae anymore, just moths. Each day I kill at least five with the broom and there are dust smears on the walls and ceiling. One of my roommates bought a sticky thing that attracts them, and about twenty died on there. But they just keep coming! It seems like the more I kill, the more appear! Ack. I have the broom nearby and two pieces of cardboard for killing moths in the air. Then there's a wedding invitation on the window sill that's being used to kill the fleas on the window (sorry, people, but aren't you glad it didn't just go in the garbage?).

I've also gotten rid of our garbage can just for food and instead labeled a pot with a lid on it as "Bioabfall." Vinegar didn't work. The new system seems to have gotten rid of the cloud of fleas that used to rise up when you opened up the cupboard under the sink, and because the pot is small, we have to empty it more often. Yay! (I never thought I'd be glad about that.)

But now I've just discovered that the fridge is no longer working, so I'm cooking up the three frozen pizzas I had in the freezer (I dare to eat cold cooked pizza more than cooked pizza that's been at room temperature for a long time). I'm also hoping someone will take out whatever is stinking up the fridge (I can't find it). I hope my food makes it til I can eat it all and we can get a new fridge. Oh man.

What would you say my job title is?

The Story of My Master's Thesis

Even before I started really thinking about my Master's thesis, I knew I wanted to write about Mormon mommy blogs. I'd been collecting posts from mommy blogs for two years already (I ended up with a 600-page document). The genre/fad is so fascinating to me because this group of (relatively) conservative women seem to really take to writing about their lives intellectually, humorously, thoughtfully, and one can see the way they love the roles they have chosen. This satisfaction would not be something many feminists (ahem, Betty Friedan) would expect because of the limited community and intellectual stimulation that can come with being a stay-at-home mom.

But after writing my abstract and tweaking it several times, my peers told me I was too close to the Mormon theme and needed to broaden to other mommy blogs. I tried to work it out anyway and finally decided I would try again some day in the future after submitting a horrible version to a conference and feeling completely ashamed that my name was published on something so bad. (Yes, I tried to make it up by giving a fabulous presentation. It worked in some ways--all but one of the follow-up questions were aimed at me. I hoped that no one thought to read the article until I was far, far away.)

So I broadened the theme and turned to a lot of autobiographical studies. I was amazed to find that the blogging form was so perfectly what autobiography scholars had said was needed for women's autobiographical writing. The patterns between men's and women's autobiographical writing were so different. Men wrote of their adventurous public lives chronologically and didn't include a lot about family (except for parents). Sometimes lifelong wives were never even mentioned. Women, on the other hand, wrote about their private lives, even if they had very active public lives (Margaret Mead, for example, skips the twenty years of her life when she did her famous sociological work.) Their subjects were more eclectic. They also wrote based more on subject than on time, included a lot about relationships, and described personal spiritual journeys.

Then I read a lot of narrative theory about how people are their stories and identity comes from the narratives they create. Sometimes I would spend time trying to decide how to design my future layout (I wanted to include some century gothic and some dots, both of which turned out very nicely). After a loooot of preparatory reading, I would sit in the train and stare at my notes and try to make outlines. I wondered about the patterns I saw and what they meant, and thus was my argument born. The writing process refined it until it basically and finally turned into this:

Mommy blogs show a satisfaction that stay-at-home mothers want to share and that would not have been expected by Betty Friedan's research (published in The Feminine Mystique in 1963) because they fulfill the centuries-long need for a women's fitting autobiographical genre, provide a varied and broad community from within the home, and are whiteboards for identity formulation.

Early in the process, I made this list to remind me of why I should be motivated:




I got the brunt of the work done (with the chapters on The Feminine Mystique and the history of autobiographical writing and women's writing patterns) while I was in Switzerland (thanks to the Lochers for letting me stay at their house and for being progress-monitors). I was lucky to get another wrist brace for my carpal tunnel and a student gave me a mouse so I wouldn't have to use the finger pad all the time.

Getting those last chapters with the heavy stuff done was the hardest and if I were to be given another year to complete my thesis, I think I'd focus mainly on those. I spent hours and hours sitting at the desk trying to get a few pages done, and then hours and hours laying on the couch until my computer ran out of battery still trying. Sometimes I'd try out writing in the kitchen, but I felt bad about my stuff being everywhere.

Each evening, I thought, "Tomorrow I can easily get five or ten pages done," but the process was much slower than I thought. I had foreseen that it would be hard to have motivation, but the problem turned out to be time. There were so many distractions and interruptions--church activities, doctor visits, meals, emails, and work. Not to mention that while trying to focus, I had the best ideas come to me for completely separate projects, it was like I was suddenly a genious in every other category. I tried to get rid of as many distractions as possible, meaning I turned over some church responsibilities, put off working on my health, rejected most calls asking me to fill in, and even turning on my email's automatic reply function (which ended disastrously because my mom thought I was dead or something and then when she wrote she got this reply and thought I was mad at her for some reason and was really upset. Sorry, mom, and Sica, thanks for the SMS that let me know.).

I aimed to get done by the end of June so I could take another two weeks and revise, but I was getting extremely stressed out because my Grandpa was really sick and I was so far away. I finally decided to book a ticket to go see him and spent all the money I've earned in my job since it started. I booked the ticket a week in advance which was already pretty tight timing, but unfortunately he died before I left.

While in Utah, I really tried to work on my thesis because I didn't want to have to worry about it during EFY and during the YSA conference. However, one doesn't pay that much money to go write their thesis somewhere else while surrounded by family for the first time in a year, so my professors nicely allowed me to have an extension until the end of August.

After being an EFY counselor and attending the YSA conference, I set out to clean up the last two chapters and include some more close readings. At this point I ended up with some hardcore health problems all at the same time, including carpal tunnel in both wrists. Ow. My physical therapist suggested I get an extension on my thesis, but I said no way and asked what else I could do. So I ended up wearing braces at all times, doing stretches often, and icing both wrists every couple of hours. I also started sitting on two books, resting my feet on my art box, and wearing the most supportive shoes I have around the apartment.

The revising and finishing-up part went relatively fast and I even thought I would be able to turn in the thesis a week early, but what I didn't anticipate were all the formatting problems. Let's just say that Word and I are not on speaking terms. Well, actually, I want to tell you the details because they're crazy. First, one of the four images I had in the document kept moving to a different page without its caption, and I'd have to track it down. But every time I moved it back, it would snap to the top of the page, no matter what setting I tried. I spent a whole afternoon and evening working on the problem and no suggestions I found on the internet or from facebook friends helped. Everyone said I should have done the whole thing in Open Office, but it seemed a little late to change at that point. The next day, I cried out in frustration and my roommate suggested I put the image in a text box. Voila.

Then the page numbers kept changing to different fonts and starting over with each section. Once I got that fixed by scrolling through a billion times and making changes, I realized that the headings I had spent hours getting to switch between "The Mommy Blog" and "Michelle Glauser" had changed to only one of them in the page-number process. I could get them to go back to every other page, but they kept appearing at the start of the document where the title page was and such. Ack!!!

I finally figured it all out, but what should then appear as I scrolled through? Three weird places where there was no text, just a white space. I thought there was a paragraph break or something and tried to delete the empty space, but nothing helped. I finally realized the problem was that the heading on these three pages had made itself huge somehow. So I should have been able to just drag it back into place, right? No! That changed every other page to have weird formatting and words on top of each other. Nice. This time, however, no amount of time fixed the problem. I spent a whole day wanting to pound my fists on the desk or break something and another day waiting for someone to answer my emails for help (I'd sent an S.O.S. to all the computer-savvy people I know). You have to laugh in bitter frustration when someone who works at Microsoft says they've never seen that before and don't know what can be done.

Finally, I did the inevitable. I imported the entire document into Open Office, which messed up the heading and page numbers again. Amazingly, though, Open Office learned from my actions. After I made a change twice, it made the rest automatically. Hallelujah, success. Then I just had to change the Table of Contents because the pages were somehow a bit different.

But the one problematic picture turned out really unclear and pasting it or importing it again only made it about as big as three lines of text. Stretching it obviously didn't help. I finally got it to be fairly clear, saved the whole thing as a PDF, and leapt into the air for joy, clapping my hands and declaring I would print it the next day.

You knew there had to be more complications, didn't you? That night, while I was laying in bed, I thought of some things I would like to change, so I got up really early the next morning. I added one, I repeat, one sentence to the document. The page numbers changed. The problematic image leapt to a completely different section and took another image with it. The headings went bonkers, and this time, Open Office didn't learn a single thing from me. I had to teach myself how to make different page styles for even and odd pages, and even then it didn't work for every section. I could have gotten rid of that one sentence. But actually I couldn't.

I got to the copy shop about an hour and a half later than I said I would be there. Somehow, even though I had saved every document in the A4 format, when they opened the thesis on their computer, it was in American letter format. We decided it looked okay printed like that and stuck with it. However, when they printed out the color pages, I knew something would need to be done about that problematic image. It was simply too unclear. So, I tried to duplicate that one page in Word, but the headings were different in Word and I couldn't stand for one page looking different. I finally faked it and played with spacing until it looked fairly normal, but the 1,5 spacing wouldn't cooperate and I ended up typing out the whole page again. Luckily they were patient. Right as I finally got it right, I realized that very page had an orphan I had somehow missed. I wanted to die. But I didn't. The other pages had already been printed. I bit my lip really hard and looked the other way.

Then I realized that I had wanted to write an acknowledgments page. Luckily, I had left one of the opening pages blank, so I just needed to add a paragraph there. It took me five minutes to think of the word "acknowledgments" in English, another five minutes to think of how to spell the darn word (okay, I used spell-check), another five minutes to type out my thank yous, another five minutes to justify putting the page where the blank page was (it would have been better before the abstract), and then I let them print it (the employee there asked how to say "acknowledgments" and I realized for the first time in my life what an awful spelling disaster that word is--or maybe it's a pronunciation disaster).

I picked out a fabulously rich red for the soft covers and the only red they had for hard covers--a deep burgundy--for the copy I was printing for myself. They told me to come back in a few hours, so I went to the market to pick up vegetables for my trip that evening and allowed myself to get a treat at the bakery.

As soon as I got home, I felt so thankful, I had to kneel down and let out my praise. It was at that moment that I realized I'd forgotten to thank my Heavenly Father in the acknowledgments! Ack!!!!! I immediately called the copy shop, but the bindings were already done. I then had to kneel again and apologize, and then I thought that He counts as family, though I think He really deserves to be specifically thanked.

Turning in the thesis was great. I picked up another goodie at a different bakery on the way home and thought about how I wanted to make some changes to the PDF before I sent it to anyone, but figured I'd do that in a week or two (if you want a copy, let me know).

After taking a picture for your viewing pleasure, I set my thesis on the table in my room and thought of how when people come and ask what it is, I can say, "That? Oh that's just a book I wrote." Then I showered and let all my thesis worries wash away.

Thank you to everyone who supported me in any way throughout the whole program!

Here are some things I wish I'd known/done:
-ask for one chapter at a time to be read for feedback
-set up firm appointments for group feedback
-learn to skim for the important things first
-deadline for first draft so there would be more time for revisions

Though I'm already sad to think that I'm not really a student anymore, now I can focus on a lot of other things that have been building up on my list of things to do and I hope to get my health in better shape.

Missing Brain

Do you ever have days where you're not sure where your brain is? I do (but you already knew that). Today I:

-Got up an hour earlier than usual and still didn't get to my job next door until only 5 minutes before class started.
-Set up an appointment with another ENT (for a second opinion in hopes of improvement in the sore throat epic) but made it for the first day of the new quartal, meaning I have to pay another 10 Euros.
-Reached the front door of my apartment building after class, saw that I still had six minutes, and went back upstairs to get a bag for my laptop.
-Went down a flight of stairs and went back for cough drops.
-Realized I'd forgotten the latest Liahona (international Ensign) but left anyway.
-Arrived at the university and realized I'd forgotten the paper that would get me my laptop back.

Then I debated the whole way into the library to pick up a book what I should do since I had an impending work meeting in thirty minutes, decided to try to get the laptop anyway, and succeeded. Wahoo (and the repaired keyboard is lovely)! My brain had returned! Or so I thought! Then I:

-decided that my foot hurt enough that I would wait however long it took for the next train to come. Unfortunately, I saw the train and without thinking boarded the one in front of it, going in the wrong direction.

I made it on time, so it was okay, but I:

-didn't even think to ask if Sarah was back from vacation yet. When someone says three weeks and it's been four, you don't think about it. Okay, I guess this wasn't actually my fault.
-took about ten minutes to figure out who should have the key to the school and where for what day.

But, happily, I:

-enjoyed the sun shining brighter than it has in months (though the wind was still cold).
-went the extra (five) mile(s) to help a patron of the school who was standing outside wondering why no one was there. I took her to my apartment (five minutes after I'd hurriedly told the girl looking at the room that I had to hurry and leave--she was still there when I came back) to call the other school (which was nervously waiting for my late arrival because no, Sarah was not back from vacation), and the lady ended up going to my class--she drove us there.

Unfortunately, I made more time-wasting decisions and:

-ate pancakes at 9:45 instead of going to bed or working on my essay.

But, happily, again:

-the pancakes tasted good.
-I was friendly to my roommate and even shared my pancakes.
-I chatted with Melissa who not only gave me a motivating deadline for my essay, but a reward if I finish on time. (Thanks, Melissa, and everyone else: don't be surprised if I don't have much of an internet presence in upcoming weeks. Or maybe, if I have more of an internet presence. Whichever.)

Anyone else?

Potential Facebook Stati of 11 February 2009

Michelle . . .

doesn't want to sell her plasma anymore.

wondered last week what to do about her shrinking bank account. This week, she has four jobs. (Plasma, Kindergarten, English, English.)

got to push four little kids around in a preschool stroller thingy and talk about animal sounds, names, and colors in English and German.

has no time to write her Master's thesis.

gave some hardcore ("throw it all away and buy everything I say") fashion advice.

had to order an official background check from the police.

got "tschüssed" by an investigator.

is wondering when she's going to have time to get ready for the "Michelle sacrament meeting" this week--organ, musical number, talk.

went to zone conference for an hour.

did her visiting teaching!

baked cookies that turned into cake for dinner on Sunday and baked eggless orange juice cake for dinner tonight.

can walk fast now with pain. Or without pain, if she limps. Or she can just walk slow.

is wondering how to get to the Valentine's dance in Mittweida.

can't understand the articles she's supposed to read as sources for her essay. And they're in English.

needs help: "Identity claims are not necessarily the intentional referent of the account, but only that system of self-knowledge necessarily actuated (and reproduced) while accomplishing an account of one's life."

is going to team up with a sister in her ward to bake Christmas-turned-to-birthday Stollen tomorrow.

changed her facebook settings to German.

is desperately trying to break a habit in order to reward herself this summer.

likes to sleep, but wishes there were some way to go without it in order to get more done.

is wondering why Germans have such strict internet privacy and copyright laws that she can't watch The Office, but they have nudey pics of themselves in online ads?

gets more done when she has a whole free day. Like that ever happens.

re-added "Preach My Gospel" to her daily scripture study routine.

was told that her hair had been "stripped of its cuticle." Can that be repaired or does the hair have to be cut off?

likes getting long, personal emails.

is either getting worse and worse at riding her bike, or the bike is getting rustier and rustier.

didn't doubt for a second that John would get into NYU. Now he and Tanya had better get to live in a neighboring country!

hasn't seen any roommates for a few days, just evidence thereof.

delivered some secret valentines tonight.

Blog Deprivation As Motivation

I'm sure there's been a noticeable decline in hits on the Germany section of Amy Lawson's Google Analytics in the last week. I've been dying to check it as it is my favorite blog and I like to read it every day as soon as I fall down the ladder of my bed. I've even given in to looking at how many new articles are listed next to the link on Google Reader. Sorry, Amy. I really do love your blog. But I've got to motivate myself to do homework somehow. Take a look at this:













That is my desk, covered with books and papers and notes and other junk. If you zoom in, you can see my to do list sitting there, with my planner next to it (yes, it's a missionary planner good for one transfer--I'm stretching it to two). That is one intense to do list. Some of the things are recurring like, "Sparkasse/money" really means, "Walk to Deutsche Bank in the city center and withdraw the most the ATM will let you every day until you have enough to have a Sparkasse account full enough to get a student visa."

Sorry Amy! The next few days are looking better. Once I catch up on some homework, I'll be back! To make up for it, here are some more views for you. Everybody, click on the link below! Enjoy it like you enjoy a piece of chocolate in front of someone on a diet!

granolasdodallas.blogspot.com

Time, Please

I really want one of those time necklaces that Hermione has in one of the Harry Potter books. I just don't have time for everything!

I would use it to split my time between:

-studying for classes
-buying a mattress and curtains
-reading the BOM in German
-reading my institute and Relief Society lessons
-studying German
-editing sentences
-reading books for fun
-visiting/hanging out with Germans
-applying for scholarships
-writing random essays and stories
-figuring out my paperwork (visa, etc.)
-talking with fellow MA students and my professors
-sleeping

Bureaucracy, Schmureaucracy

During the past few weeks, I've dealt with enough bureaucracy for a lifetime. Those who say that people waited in line all day during the DDR don't know that people do that today, too. They're called international students. Most of it is done with (never mind, I've still got the visa to do), but I still have no clue after many emails, online chat help, a lot of bank visits, translations of seven letters I've received, and a lot of internet research, how to transfer my money from my American bank to my German account. The transfer numbers just don't match up between continents!

If something doesn't work out soon, I'm going to have to figure out how to survive here for two years on a grand total of

2 Euros and 98 cents.

Luckily, I think that's enough to get not just one, but two jars of Nutella.

*UPDATE*
I just found six more cents for a grand total of

3 Euros and 4 cents.

Luckily, that is still enough for two jars of Nutella.

Breathey Laugh

While I stood in line at the post office today, the man in front of me did what I call the "breathey laugh." It doesn't really have any sound other than the movement of air, almost like a dog panting. Ha ha.

I've eliminated quite a bit of stuff to ship to Germany; I'm down to four boxes. Aren't you proud of me?

I bought German scriptures today. There is, apparently, no Mormon Bible in German. I guess that's okay since the German Bible is claimed to be the most correct translation, but I would like the footnotes and Joseph Smith translations . . . I wonder what they do during Sunday School.

So much to do, so little time . . .

The Last Vacuuming

I just vacuumed my bedroom for the last time. Although I know the history of every other semi-abandoned room in the house, I still mourn when I think that it won't be vacuumed for years to come and there will probably be lots of stuff piled in there. I wish my room could just come with me. It could be like that magical tent in Harry Potter.

One Fell Swoop

I thought I'd surprise everyone and post in the morning. Before I get started: is it possible to be sore from doing housework all day? I guess so, I was just a little surprised.

Anyway, today I'd like to talk about my way of doing things. For some reason, I like to get things done in one fell swoop (I can't think of a better way to say it), instead of a bit at a time. My room, for example. I love for it to be clean, but instead of putting everything away every day, I clean up my room about once a week. Same goes with laundry. When the family laundry gets to be where I have to wade through it, I go at it for a day or two until it's all done. It may not be the most efficient way to do things, but it works. Maybe that's why I have trouble getting into shape. It takes a little bit at a time, consistently! When we were assigned 30 or so sections of shelves to be re-taped at the FHL, I cancelled pretty much everything I could and taped all day long until I could mark off my sections. I think my tendency to do things quickly like that made it hard for me to understand people who worked slowly or who focused on too many things at once. By george, just get it done! In college, I would go to school an hour early, pump out a five-page paper, print it off, and hand it in, receiving decent grades (note to self: revisions will help you out with your Master's).

I remember listening to one of those business CDs (I find those things interesting) and hearing that I should focus on the most important thing first, always. I remember shaking my head and saying, "They obviously haven't worked at the FHL." If a missionary came in during an important meeting with one of the head honchos where we were making massive decisions affecting all the employees and missionaries and said that she didn't know how to help a patron who was waiting at the window, I'd have to either go help the patron or find someone else to do so. Or if I had been working on the training manual, same goes, even though in the long run, the training manual would be what would help the missionary help the patron. (Don't get mad at me here for saying that the patron isn't first.) Anyway, I threw the CD away.

Last week I read What to Say When You Talk to Yourself. Okay, I got the main point and then skimmed through the rest. It makes sense: what you hear or say over and over becomes true to you, and most of us hear mainly negative things. The book said that smokers should tell themselves, every day, that they don't smoke and that they have healthy lungs, even while they're lighting up in front of friends. (Sometimes making claims in front of others is the most powerful way to change.) So, I wrote out a lovely page to read to myself every day about how wonderful and accomplished I am. If anyone were to ever find it and read it, I would be mortally embarrassed, but maybe in a few years' time, I will firmly believe that my nose is wonderfully unique and I always have a positive attitude . . .

Things I can't wait to do when I have free time.

(Transferred from my old blog on 18 August 2008.)
There are so many things that I think about doing if I had more time in which to do them. I've been thinking of quitting one of my jobs early (it ends in December anyway) so that I can have more time to dedicate to the things that matter, but I love the people there! It seems so much more worth it, but my mom reminds me that I owe Dad money. Yikes! Last night, I asked him if I could pay it back slowly as a loan. He said, "Only if you stop bugging me about my zits". Hee hee. Then he stuck his chin out at me and I gracefully declined his offer to look by walking away. So, here are the things constantly going through my mind of what I should be doing.

1. Get to know my Savior more personally - read Jesus the Christ and the scriptures and spend more time pouring out my heart to Heavenly Father.
2. Go to the temple more often.
3. Write.
4. Paint, draw, etc.
5. Read lots and lots of uplifting, enlightening, classic books - philosophy, fiction, nonfiction, plays, sonnets, etc. In other words, cross out those lists of books that I've been accumulating for years.
6. Get rid of my STUFF. I don't need all of the junk that I have. A lot of it I just need to scan onto my website and then burn it or throw it away or something.
7. Finish everything on a "to do" list for once.
8. Stop procrastinating.
9. Dedicate my time to schoolwork early on before deadlines.
10. Apply for more scholarships.
11. Study.
12. Garden.
13. Set a good example, live with the light of Christ.
14. Do crafts.
15. Share the gospel fearlessly.

Etc.