My flat smells like . . .
Jan. 30th, 2008 07:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gina_r_snapeMy flat smells like fries/chips and it's making me mental. But even worse, when I walked up to the front door of the building, there was a ConEd notice stating the landlord hasn't paid for electricity/gas and they are going to shut it off for the building if it doesn't get paid soon. Now, I pay for my own gas and electric, so I assume this is the "public domain" of the building (hallway lights, gas heat). In all my years living in Manhattan, I have never seen a notice like that. You can be sure I'll be phoning the landlord tomorrow about it. It's *shocking* and I pray it's just an administrative error.
Today I had too much coffee on an empty stomach and wound up chatting like a maniac in class. I was literally bursting at the seams to contribute in class, and I could just hear Snape telling me to settle down and stop being an unsufferable know-it-all.
But you know, I wasn't always an unsufferable know-it-all. And this got me thinking and reflecting. I recently came across my transcripts from when I went to Rutgers right out of high school. I lived there for two and a half years, and it was a very tumultuous time for me. Family drama, dating drama, living in the dorms, leaving the dorms, partying, sexual orientationizing, living with absolutely no money (I once managed to get by on $7 a week for food), political activism...all these things held my attention much more than the actual academics. My grades were shocking. A's in a couple classes, but mostly C's and a few F's. Looking at the transcript brought me back in a way I hadn't done before. Yet, I do recall learning things.
I wound up leaving NJ behind and moving back to NYC on my own, where I worked and finished my undergraduate degree at NYU with a very respectable 3.89 grade point average. It made me realize how much removing myself from the influence of my mother and parental divorce drama, and focusing on growing up, working and going to school with a purpose completely changed my life.
The picture of me from the LJ entry the other day was taken when I was 24. I felt wistful looking at it, because it reminded me I used to "be more fun" and "more creative" in very extroverted ways. Yet, what the picture doesn't tell you is that at that time I was working a full-time job as a secretary at NYU, a part-time job on Sundays, and finishing my bachelor's degree part-time. Yet, I was filled with enough joy and youthful energy to put together an outrageous outfit and party like there was no tomorrow (and take care of Wicca and Faberge!). And I realize how lucky I am, that I had the human capital to make up for the structural and familial deficits denied to me. And also, that I didn't literally die because I was able to drink like a fish and still manage my diabetes.
And today I realized for perhaps the first time, what a truly incredible education I received at NYU. Now, I know the University has eaten up half of lower Manhattan and is far from a perfect place. But sitting in class today (qualitative research), many of the students were unfamiliar with theoretical concepts mentioned in the readings, which were the hallmark of my Undergraduate experience (I did an independent major in Gender Studies). Feminist theory, opppression and notions of imperialism and colonialism, postmodernism, deconstruction of language, conflict theory, critical theory. These are not things that come up in everyday discussion. But I always assumed at the PhD level that people would have some working knowledge of these concepts. But they didn't. One mocha frappucino light in my belly moments before class, and I could not contain myself from the opportunity to define and explain and relate to the course content. I felt like I was having a manic episode. Yet, after class nobody seemed to think that.
I wonder, is that the new form of Gina with the flowers on her top? Did I go from the flashy girl at the party to the flashy girl in the classroom? Maybe I haven't changed all that much after all in almost 15 years. I just wear less makeup, weigh a bit more, party a lot less, and suffer worse hangovers when I do. :o)
Today I had too much coffee on an empty stomach and wound up chatting like a maniac in class. I was literally bursting at the seams to contribute in class, and I could just hear Snape telling me to settle down and stop being an unsufferable know-it-all.
But you know, I wasn't always an unsufferable know-it-all. And this got me thinking and reflecting. I recently came across my transcripts from when I went to Rutgers right out of high school. I lived there for two and a half years, and it was a very tumultuous time for me. Family drama, dating drama, living in the dorms, leaving the dorms, partying, sexual orientationizing, living with absolutely no money (I once managed to get by on $7 a week for food), political activism...all these things held my attention much more than the actual academics. My grades were shocking. A's in a couple classes, but mostly C's and a few F's. Looking at the transcript brought me back in a way I hadn't done before. Yet, I do recall learning things.
I wound up leaving NJ behind and moving back to NYC on my own, where I worked and finished my undergraduate degree at NYU with a very respectable 3.89 grade point average. It made me realize how much removing myself from the influence of my mother and parental divorce drama, and focusing on growing up, working and going to school with a purpose completely changed my life.
The picture of me from the LJ entry the other day was taken when I was 24. I felt wistful looking at it, because it reminded me I used to "be more fun" and "more creative" in very extroverted ways. Yet, what the picture doesn't tell you is that at that time I was working a full-time job as a secretary at NYU, a part-time job on Sundays, and finishing my bachelor's degree part-time. Yet, I was filled with enough joy and youthful energy to put together an outrageous outfit and party like there was no tomorrow (and take care of Wicca and Faberge!). And I realize how lucky I am, that I had the human capital to make up for the structural and familial deficits denied to me. And also, that I didn't literally die because I was able to drink like a fish and still manage my diabetes.
And today I realized for perhaps the first time, what a truly incredible education I received at NYU. Now, I know the University has eaten up half of lower Manhattan and is far from a perfect place. But sitting in class today (qualitative research), many of the students were unfamiliar with theoretical concepts mentioned in the readings, which were the hallmark of my Undergraduate experience (I did an independent major in Gender Studies). Feminist theory, opppression and notions of imperialism and colonialism, postmodernism, deconstruction of language, conflict theory, critical theory. These are not things that come up in everyday discussion. But I always assumed at the PhD level that people would have some working knowledge of these concepts. But they didn't. One mocha frappucino light in my belly moments before class, and I could not contain myself from the opportunity to define and explain and relate to the course content. I felt like I was having a manic episode. Yet, after class nobody seemed to think that.
I wonder, is that the new form of Gina with the flowers on her top? Did I go from the flashy girl at the party to the flashy girl in the classroom? Maybe I haven't changed all that much after all in almost 15 years. I just wear less makeup, weigh a bit more, party a lot less, and suffer worse hangovers when I do. :o)
