Thursday, March 13, 2008

Ivory Tower Envy or The MisAdventures of a Student to Old

I've put myself under some delusion that I desire to further my pittance of an education. Make myself smarter! Yeah, that's it!! I made some vane attempt before I got pregnant with the first Offspring, but, you know what happens when you mix birth control and sex? Some poor sap has to be that 2% statistic. Needless to say, lying prostrate to the powers that be in order to stamp oneself worthy of a higher degree suddenly took a major backseat. I seem to recall that I had a passing thought that I would start up again shortly after it was born, except that someone failed to impress upon me that the little bundle of 9 pound joy I brought home, can and will, KICK YOUR ASS!!

Alas, I did not return to elevate my education status, I stayed home to try and trick the world into thinking that being a stay at home-whatever, is the noble calling that my hyper-religious community tells me that it is. Pretty tough sell for a firmly planted feminist. 6 weeks into that noble practice, dear John Boy wanted to know how I had lost my vocabulary and been reduced to "Sure, sure pootus".

Somewhere in the interim, a decade has passed me by. WTF? Where did that go? So, my Blondie took it upon himself to inspire me when he started school this fall and MisAdventure entertained delusions of grandeur about acquiring that higher degree. He has some fetish with the "double dog dare". Although he never has to SAY, "double dog dare, ya", he just tells me I lack a pair....Uhhhh, excuse me? I don't think so!! And magically I find myself doing things that I really thought I would never do again. Quite the infectious young motivator.

So, I filled out all the necessary paper work and started my walk through the quagmire of red tape to try and commit myself to the laws of higher educational authority in hopes that they might deem me worthy and bestow me with that coveted piece of parchment we call a degree. I've ask myself in the process, more than once, 'Who am I kidding?'.

Let's review this process. MisAdventure fills out application number one, pays her fees and submits. Then, she calls said University to inquire what "the rest" of the process is. "Oh, nothing. Just wait." So I do. Nothing happens. So I try again. "Oh, yes. My bad, it didn't get transferred to the Graduate department." And, so I ask, who else do I need to speak with? "No one, this has been sitting on my desk for awhile, I'll take care of it." You'll - take - care - of - it.

September, October, November, December.....By January I was getting frustrated. No one could tell me anything. So, I made another attempt to glean information by calling the University yet again. After 3 transfers and four people who could tell me precisely NOTHING....one your naive sounding voice said to me, "You probably should talk to the MSW department."

Me: Ok. Can you transfer me there?
Naive: No.
Me: Do you have that number?
Naive: Oh, yes. Would you like me to give it you?

I entertained the thought that this individual might actually be attending the University, and I shuddered. I acquired and number and made a phone call. In short, explained my situation and was told that I hadn't filled out all the paperwork. And it was due last November. Stellar.

I was granted leniency and raced to fill out the appropriate boxes in a matter of days. Rushed to hand it in aaaannnnnd, wait. I called to inquire about a week later if all the right letters of recommendation had been married to my paperwork.

Me: Just wanted to follow up and make sure my application was complete.

Wanda: What was your name?

Me: MisAdventure.

Wanda: Hmmm, I can't seem to locate that. Let me check....No. I don't have an
application with that name. I'm sure that I just saw it. Let me call you back.

Me: Oookay.

Upon returning my phone call I was informed that my paper work had been misplaced. Convenient. So I raced through the process again!! Seriously, I am willing to part, nay throw, large sums of money for the privilege of participating worship of the Ivory Tower God and this bureaucratic beast can't even keep track of my request to be fucked up the goad ass with the rest of the sheep! Oh my Ghawd.

And so, here we are. We wait, and we sweat. I was supposed to have word by March. It's March. No word. Is this a sign?

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