error! error!

School has not yet started (and in fact is a week away), but I have somehow already managed to commit a faux pas of potentially massive proportions.

To rewind: I had dinner tonight at a cute Korean restaurant with two people in my cohort, two fourth-year students, and an MA candidate. The conversation turned to politics in academic departments/the professors in our program, and in the course of the ensuing discussion, my advisor's name was brought up. Now this man, Professor E, is one of my academic idols. Not only was my personal statement basically an ode to his work, but my specific research interests are completely influenced by his scholarship. In other words, I need to get on his good side and camp out/build a three-story house there, because I will undoubtedly take all of his classes and fully intend on asking him to be my dissertation advisor.

The problem: according to W, one of the fourth-years who is also working with him, Professor E is a "diva" who needs to be massaged (his words, not mine!) more than the other faculty members. To get on his good side, one should constantly bring up topics he's interested in (and let him go on and on about them), and above all, always be respectful/show proper awe of his genius. Key words there: "respectful" and "proper awe."

Now anyone who knows me will know that I have a problem writing emails to professors. For some reason, I don't censor my words whatsoever and the resulting missives look like chummy (read: wildly inappropriate) correspondences that I would send to my closest friends. From admitting that I was cutting a professor's class because I had pulled an all-nighter to write his paper (which, to my defense, I attached in the email) to laying out my relationship drama in another TMI moment, I have basically written an unfortunate number of hilarious, but far from respectful, emails. (For some reason, this never came back to bite me during college, but I suspect that the small liberal arts college environment meant that all of my professors were incredibly friendly/down-to-earth, and oftentimes treated the students like colleagues).

Anyways, halfway through the conversation at dinner, I had a sudden, horrifying realization: I had sent Professor E an email about two days ago regarding a meeting that we were supposed to have during the first week of classes. While I didn't remember exactly what I had said, I knew that it was written in classic "me" fashion, and when I came home and checked the actual text, my worst fears were confirmed. Not only did I apologize for the "somewhat lateness" of the email, but I had blamed this tardiness on "summer senility" and then signed the correspondence with "hope your summer went swimmingly."

Somehow, I don't think that is going to be taken as a sign of respect/proper awe of genius, and as someone who is probably not used to student email-writing styles like mine, I'm not sure how Professor E will take it. In any case, I am terrified that he thinks that I'm disrespectful or else am blowing him off with attitude, and has formed some kind of horrible impression of what type of person/student I am. Oh why did I let our hour-long conversation about trashy reality shows (during the admitted students dinner) lull me into a false sense of security? New end-of-the-summer resolution: learn to write proper, respectful emails ASAP!

mystery solved!

It turns out that the random emailer found my information on my program's website and only made a lucky guess that I was also into postcolonial literature. I've been corresponding back and forth with him over the past week and a half, and I have to say, it's quite interesting to exchange ideas with someone whose background and current context are so different from my own. I recently turned 22 years old (my birthday was on the 24th!) and have jumped straight from undergrad to a Ph.D. program. My e-pal is probably in his 40s (this guess based on the pictures he sent), married with two children (ages 12 and 14), and has an MPhil in International Relations and is working on an MA in English.

In other news, I move back to my apartment on Saturday and will officially be living alone for the first time in my life. I'm pretty nervous about it, though apparently not as nervous as some of my friends are for me. I've heard from quite a few of them that they've had conversations amongst themselves about how badly my first year alone can potentially go. Chief concerns include:

1) My horrible habit of smiling at or enduring conversation from random strangers (I can't help it! I'm from the Midwest, dammit!)

2) What can only be kindly termed as my sheer ridiculousness/impracticality/lack of life skills (as one good friend put it, "I have these visions of the lights going off in your apartment and you not knowing what to do about it." Me: "So true. Touche. Touche.")

3) The way I become a crazy hermit when I'm left to my own devices (namely: I burrow into my room and basically fall off the face of the planet. All the while, my mind wanders into strange crevices of the universe and folds in on itself, usually in ways that do not enhance my already degraded social skills)

4) Me + alcohol (I don't really drink anymore, so when I do, I tend to get smashed, and I'm not using that word lightly) + no one to walk me home + my horrible sense of surroundings (not only do I have no concept of directions, but I'm also ridiculously unobservant. I don't notice when people I'm looking for are literally two feet away from me, which doesn't bode well for walking the streets of a major city at night)

On the upside, though, I have two months before the program starts to feel everything out and hopefully become more of a seasoned individual (seasoned at...life? Apartment-dwelling? Not being a sheltered child? Hmm...the possibilities are endless!). On the downside, I won't have internet service until July 7, so I will be unable to post until then.

Lets all cross our fingers that I don't go wacky from the lack of internet (I compulsively check my email at least 15+ times a day) or else have some other kind of horrible disaster befall me. Positive thoughts, people! Positive thoughts!