I lost my jump drive last year, which sucked. It had virtually everything on it--many years' worth of papers, lesson plans, ramblings, articles, etc. Fortunately, I am not entirely stupid: I backed it up sometime in December of 2006. Yeah, I lost stuff from my final semester of grad school (including my thesis, and I can't think of that too long or I feel sick). But at least I had the files of papers of which I most likely didn't have a hard copy.
So right now, I go back and forth between what I was able to save and what I have printed. For instance, I wrote a paper for a class in fall of '06, but I've since made the paper somewhat better and presented it at a conference. The updted file is lost, but I still have the printed paper. So every now and then, I have to sit down and find 1) the file, and 2) the updated print version, so I can 3) merge them together. It's a slow process.
Today I was checking the back-up jump drive and came across my folder entitled "GRAD." I put this folder together when I was researching grad schools a while back. I opened it up and found my working statement of purpose. The last time I accessed it was December of 2004 (at one a.m.). I didn't send this in with my applications, but at the time, it was funny. Hell, it's still funny to me, but mainly because of all of the inaccuracies: I never mention going to ETSU (mainly because I hadn't applied, and wouldn't do so until April); I wound up graduating in August '05, not May; and I never got a creative writing concentration. Thank god I didn't, because I obviously wouldn't be eating balanced and regular meals.
Anyway:
“Where will you be attending school next year?”
At the end of the winter term, no question is more dreaded to the ears of a senior. They begin to sweat and stammer nervously, stalling until they can come up with some ambiguous answer to satisfy the lobbyist, usually a peer. “Well, you see I’m—as I haven’t graduated yet, and finals are coming up…I suppose I’ll be applying at—that is to say…rather, where are YOU attending school next year?” Momentarily, the attention is shifted. If freshman psychology taught us nothing else, we learn and apply transference as a defense mechanism.
Fortunately online, I can conceal the awkward pauses and perspiration, even using it to my benefit in a rather lengthy—albeit conversational—introduction. That being said, next calendar year (January 1, 2005) I will begin and complete the spring semester of my senior year at Tennessee Technological University in Cookeville, Tennessee. Upon my graduation in August of 2005, I plan to attend one of my three graduate school choices: Vanderbilt (Nashville, TN), University of Tennessee (Knoxville, TN) or Tennessee Technological University (Cookeville, TN—just so I can keep my apartment lease). At one of these three schools I’ll pursue my masters: English with a creative writing concentration. My anticipated graduation date will be spring of 2007. From there, I understand I’m supposed to state that I’ll write the next Great American Novel, but let’s be serious: I went to a tech school for my undergraduate work. I know I won’t be building the next Great American Bridge, but so long as I’m not flipping the Great American Burger, I’ll consider myself successful and my studies worthwhile.
