Hello, Darkness, My Old Friend

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That’s a depressing title, isn’t it? I’m so sorry. It sounded way cooler in my head.

It was also the first thing that came to mind after I thought “Well, here it is, eight minutes to midnight, and I haven’t written a blame thing. Just like every other night. Ever.”

Sometimes I think I should just write “I made it to the end of another day of my existence and all I wrote was this stupid blog post” and leave it at that.

It was a good day. A wonderful day. A fun day. But all you get is this stupid blog post. For which I apologize, and I promise I”ll do better.

Someday.

To the Newcomers

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Hey there! Welcome to The Risible Rambler.

It has come to my attention that some of my posts have been shared rather prolifically on Facebook, giving me a little boost in my stats and warmth in my heart. It makes me happy when the risibility gets spread around.

I thought I’d take a moment to introduce myself (again) to those of you who just started following me recently.

Ahem.

Risabella Rambler is not my real name. Just thought I’d put that out there. I attend Undisclosed University and work at their library while trying to earn an MA in English so I can become a professional gypsy.

Why “The Risible Rambler”? “Risible” is a fancy word for “funny” that alliterates with “Rambler”, which is what I am. I absolutely adore alliteration.

I was a sophomore in college when I started this blog on a whim. My goal: write a blog post every day for a year. At the time I was taking very few classes that were related to my major (creative writing), and I wanted to do something that would force me to write. A personal commitment to one post a day seemed the best way to go about it. I wanted to write funny stuff, but inevitably some serious articles and (a lot) of kvetching sneaked into the ranks.

A year passed, and I couldn’t stop. I’ve written a blog post every day for the last three years. And counting.

I’ve written funny stuff. I’ve written short fiction. I’ve written a play or two. I’ve written poetry. I’ve written a lot of posts that can be summed up in the words “I’m too tired to write so I’m going to bed now okay bye.” I’m a Christian, which means I talk about God and how awesome He is a lot.

It was a college blog that mostly chronicled the joys and woes of being a college student. Now I’m a grad student, and I’m writing about the joys and woes of being…a grad student.

Well, that should bring you up to speed. Oh, also, I am 46 people away from having 1,000 subscribers. Tell your friends. Spread the risibility and the love.

Love,

Rizzy

Telegram

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Dear Readers STOP

Had a lovely weekend STOP Wish it would never end but alas grad school STOP About to enter my eighth week STOP Impossible to believe STOP

Not exactly well rested but oh well STOP Next week Daylight Savings Time ends hallelujah STOP

It is two months until Christmas STOP Have you finished your shopping STOP

Hope your weekend was blessed as well STOP

TTFN STOP

Going Home

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First there’s the drive. The same long stretch of road that took you to high school and back every day for four year. The same traffic; the same lights; the same store fronts. The same CD in the car stereo.

Then you get to the neighborhood. That sweep of road that curls through those old houses. The leaves part like the Red Sea so your car can cross through. For a moment, you remember what it was like to be fifteen, and someone else was driving you.

Then you get to the driveway. You see your house–now it’s more your parents’ house than it is yours anymore, and you realize that it always was. But it’s perfect, like a house in a snow globe, unchanged, if in need of love in a few corners.

The inside is different. Your room is different. It’s emptier. You still have toys sitting around, but there are familiar pictures on the walls you hung there when you were fourteen on the walls you painted–either yourself or with someone else. Now it’s almost as bare as it was when you first arrived, but so full of memories it will never be empty.

This is home, and always will be. To walk through the door is to shed eight years of my life and be small and new at things again, to forget what it means to be tired and to forget all the things that hurt and only remember the things that made you smile.

I don’t care what they say. I can always go home.

How Life Works

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You do things. A lot of things. Some fun things, some not fun things.

You learn things from cool people. And you learn things from some not so cool people.

You make mistakes. If you’re smart, you’ll learn from those, too.

You meet a lot of people. People who are trying to do things, too. Some work harder than others, and some are pushier about their things than others, but that’s all it is, really.

We’re all just trying to live and do the things we love.

I think that if more people thought about this–that we’re all just trying to be what we can be and learn along the way–we’d get along better. Maybe we wouldn’t be as petty. Maybe we wouldn’t be so hurtful. Maybe we’d forgive more easily. Maybe we’d love more readily.

As different as we all are–and believe me, we’re different–at our core, we’re all just broken little people looking for Something Higher than ourselves. For real Truth. For Solid Ground.

It’s all the false paths to that Truth that cause the conflict.  

Undergrad Habits

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Allow me irriterate for the umpteenth time that grad school and undergrad are two completely different ball games.

In undergrad, I had to be back in my room by 10:30 pm. Then there’d be a fifteen-minute room meeting. Then at 10:45 I’d scramble out for a shower and scramble back before 11:00, when we all had to be back in our rooms so the custodial girls could clean the bathrooms and hallways undisturbed. THen it was lights out at 12:00–a rule I’m grateful for, otherwise I might never have slept.

I’m used to the 11:00-12:00 hour being pretty useless. There’s only so much you can do in an hour when you’re trying to brush your teeth, put on pajamas, get your things ready for the next day….write a blog post with some meaning to it. So I’m used to sort of frittering away this hour.

However, grad school is different. I don’t have that meeting at 10:30 any more. I can come back as late as I want or as early as I want. I can even stay up as late as I want.

Yet I seem to get less done in this hour than I ever have before. I think it’s because I feel like I have so much more time, so I waste just that much more time.

I’m a bit ashamed of myself. I only have so many hours in the day to be doing profitable things, but I don’t always do them. I excuse myself by saying I’m too tired to work, too addle-brained to write anything worthwhile. But with a little sticktoitiveness, I could get so much more done in the evenings and still get to bed before tomorrow.

There’s a confession for the ether to swallow. I’m working on it. I’ll always allow myself to be a work in progress. But this is one area that needs to improve…and improve fast.

Bone to Pick

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Alright, UU proxy filter. I have a bone to pick with you.

I get it that you want to filter out the bad stuff. I understand and appreciate that. I don’t want to look at uncomfortable and hypersexualized advertisements. I don’t want to accidentally end up at websites that compromise my laptop’s security. FOr your excellent service and unending vigilance in these areas, I thank you.

However, comma, blocking 90% of WordPress’s functionality accomplishes nothing but to make me very frustrated.

I can’t post pictures. I temporarily could post some pictures from my phone, but it appears you have caught on to my ability to do this and raised security so now i can’t even do that anymore.

I can’t edit my own posts. If I make a typo, I have to wait until I’m hardwired into the network to fix an issue.

You block the my followers’ icons when they like my posts. I can’t view my reader or my stats page. I can’t look at my own media library, and forget uploading anything. I can’t even add tags from the old editor in the dashboard.

This is completely unnecessary. I understand from my fellow WordPress blogger on the same network that they have no trouble at all accessing all the features of WordPress. So what’s so special about me? Why have I been singled out for aggravation?

Was it something i said?

If You’re a Grad Student and You Know It

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If you’re groggy and you feel it,

Clap your hands.

If you’re groggy and you feel it,

Clap your hands.

Curfew used to be at 10,

Now we’re up ’till who knows when,

If you’re groggy and you feel it,

Clap your hands.

——-

If your friends have graduated,

Stomp your feet.

If your friends have graduated,

Stomp your feet.

If all your friends are gone,

And you deal with freshmen all day long,

If your friends have graduated,

Stomp your feet.

——-

If you’re gonna flunk your midterms,

Nod your heads.

If you’re gonna flunk your midterms,

Nod your heads.

Don’t care about my GPA,

All I want is my MA.

If you’re gonna flunk your midterms,

Nod your heads.

Rain Check

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Hey there, guys.

So, um, I had this great idea for a blog post tonight. Like, fabulous. I had a great conversation with my parents on the way back from church which prompted some thoughts that were baking into a beautiful blog-post-loaf in my brain.

Unfortunately, I have a midterm tomorrow. Which I’ve studied for, but not nearly enough. So I’m going to go do that.

Maybe I’ll write the brilliant thing. Unfortunately, all you’ll get tonight is this. I’m terribly sorry, but that’s the way things go.

My you sleep well and work well, wherever you are and whenever you’re reading this.

Guilt

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Well, then. That didn’t go as planned.

I planned on going to work for four hours, then doing homework for the rest of the day. I was going to work on my bibliography project and read the rest of To the Lighthouse.

I got off work (after four very stressful hours–the library was packed today) and then ran to grab lunch. I wolfed it down, then came back to the library to read. this lasted 30 minutes, and then it was time to go to a birthday party. Birthday parties are cool.

My fuel light came on, which meant I needed to refuel the car when i stopped at the grocery store to refuel myself. This added up to an hour.

I was already late to a study group for a test I’m taking on Monday when I stopped to look at my syllabus for another class to see what was due. Turns out I have to have a conference for my grad project in that class by the end of this week. Had I started said project? No.

So instead of studying, I worked on that project. For four long, cold hours in the library. All the while feeling guilty for not studying for the test on Monday, but what could I do?

This is the way that grad school works: you will always be in a state of guilt for not working on schoolwork while you’re working on schoolwork.

And that is that.