A funny thing happened on the way to applying for grad school

I’ve applied to the Teach & Learn program at Instituto Franklin, through la Universidad de Alcalá, specifically the Master in Bilingual and Multicultural Education.

I wish I was writing to say that I got in, but I don’t know that yet even though we were supposed to find out by the 9th of May because damn it Spain get it together you’re killing me here!.

What I do know is that my life has a funny way of happening.

The application asked for academic history in the form of:
Educational Institution
GPA
Years Attended

I graduated from Loyola Marymount University with a 3.74, but because I transferred there, years attended are only 2003-2005. So if I just put that down, then it would look like I finished in 2 years and not the 4 1/2 it actually took me…which led me back to my 3 semesters at the University of Miami. I didn’t remember my gpa there (shocking) and in accessing my student records online, I found
Fall 2001: 3.3
Spring 2002: 4.0
Fall 2002: 4.0
Spring 2003: 0.0

One of these things is not like the other. Continue reading

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31 Things I Know At 31

1. Flat white, 2 sugars is how I take my coffee.

Flat white

2. How to drive on the left.

Great Ocean Road Trip Start

3. That it’s okay to ask for help.

4. How to pronounce “quay”–even though it is a phonetic abomination

Lonsdale Quay

5. What it feels like to stand at the top of Sydney Harbour Bridge while fireworks go off.

Continue reading

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Deck the halls with melancholy

Shout out to everyone dealing with death over the holidays.

I didn’t grow up with Christmas–or any winter holiday really–so it’s always been a time of year that I felt disconnected from, but having this on top of it is like…wake me up on NYE.

Survival Tips:
Fight the urge to listen to sad songs; they will make you irretrievable.
Take some time to be alone.
Take some time to talk to friends.
Let the waves happen.
Be compassionate with yourself.
Take a social media break.
DO NOT LOOK UP PICTURES OF DECOMPOSING BODIES; a house is not a home and a body is not a life.

It’s okay.
It’s okay.
It’s okay.
And if it’s not, then it will be.

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I am looking up decomposition rates

It is the single most morbid thing I have ever done in my entire, but I wanted to know what his body might look like. Would he be an unrecognizable mess? Or a skeleton? Or would there be nothing left at this point? Just an expensive box occupying a hole in the ground.

You never see it.
The final place you live.

It turns out there is no official consensus.

It can takes decades for a body to decay, as there are many factors that affect the rate of decomposition, such as how well the person was embalmed, what type of casket and vault they were placed in, humidity, heat, cold, soil type, water level, depth of burial, the availability of oxygen, accessible by insects or scavengers, body size and weight, clothing, the surface on which a body rests – all determine how fast a fresh body will skeletonize or mummify. A basic guide for the effect of environment on decomposition is given as ‘Casper’s Law’ which determined that where there is free access of air a body decomposes twice as fast than if immersed in water and eight times faster than if buried in earth. People who have been dead for decades could still look fine whilst others of the same era are completely decomposed. There are just too many factors that affect the rate of decomposition to give a definitive answer. “
Source

Oh.

I saw pictures. Two bodies. (Not “people”–bodies.)
I didn’t mean to, but they were there and I clicked on them. As bacteria eat you from the inside out, the gases they create push your intestines and tongue out. Your skin turns black.
They were horrible; I wish I’d never seen them.

****

I sat in a park today and I ate gelato from my favourite place in Sydney, Australia and I wondered what he would think of me being here. But it’s been 13 years and I don’t remember him all that well anymore.

I thought, “No one here knew him…and I am forgetting.”
It felt…weird.
Sometimes I wonder if I have survivor’s guilt even though I wasn’t there.

So it goes.

Everything ends.

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On Financial Planning

I went to lunch today with 2 women.

Woman 1: I slept with this guy and after round 3, he offered to pay off my student loans.
Me: Wait, that’s a real thing that happens?? I DREAM about that.
Woman 1: But isn’t that a bit like prostitution?
Me: Pssh! Let someone want to come take this $34,000 off of my shoulders!
Woman 1: And I have $75!
Woman 2: What if you have $158?
Me: Chile, then you turn tricks faster than a dreidel at a Hanukkah party. Label it what you want. I’ll take financial freedom.

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Rude and inconsiderate

Screen shot 2013-10-09 at 12.14.10 AM

 

The marriage I could have gotten over, but a baby that ties them together forever…!

My friend Marcella and I made a list of things this is worse than:

  • Season 4 of Misfits
  • A Sansa/Tyrion sex tape
  • Miley’s VMA performance
  • That Sarah Machlachlan commercial with the animals
  • That time Kobe Bryant tried to be a rapper
  • Nick Carter’s solo album
  • Ann Coulter running for president and winning by a landslide with Sarah Palin as her VP
  • Craving Chick-Fil-A on a Sunday
  • That time my friend asked me, “What man is gonna want to be with you if don’t want to have kids??” igniting every latent fear I have about my childfree future so that all I could manage to say in response was, “I guess none of them.” :/
  • Jessica Biel

One the bright side, as I was lamenting the fact that I will die alone surrounded by passport stamps and unpaid student loans, another one of my friends said that my loans will be paid off by some rich lonely guy I have an affair with for a week in a couple years, so no need to stress and I thought it was one of the sweetest things she’s ever said to me.

 

 

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“You’re gonna get raped.”

One of my coworkers said to me as I was on a call.

“Yeah, she is,” another one agreed.

They think I am too flirtatious on the phone and that is therefore a punishment fitting the crime. The conversation went on between them, but I couldn’t hear it very well because I was on the phone. By the time I got off, I had so much to do,  it slipped my mind. I just remembered now that I am awake too early for work.

I’ve never been raped, but they didn’t know that.
I’ve never been raped, but there are moments from my past that I don’t talk about.
I’ve never been raped, but the possibility of it happening is in the back of my head everyday that I leave the house and it influences my the choices I make.

Maybe they thought it was a joke. I think it is the single most horrific thing that anyone has ever said to me.

 

**Update: I sent an email. Apologies ensued: one sincere, one “sorry you felt that way.” I let it go. Jack went back in his box.

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