the aphonic master krem.

just a little stream of things:

i lost my voice this week.
i don't mean metaphorically.
and i don't mean in the way people say when they usually are sick and lose their voice.
i mean--
i quite literally could not even make sounds.
at first i could occasionally squeak out words.
by that evening, i couldn't even do that.
and for two and a half full days,
i had no voice whatsoever.
only in pieces did it come back--
not in voice, but in sound.
only if i tried incredibly hard.
it stayed like that for another two days.
before today.
today it sounds like what people usually mean when they say,
i lost my voice.

aphonic is used to describe a complete absence of sound.
given that last year i had an entire course on voice disorders,
i was incredibly paranoid when i was met with experiencing complete and total aphonia.

suffice it to say,
my voice is finally coming back.
just a bad case of laryngitis.

(and for your viewing pleasure,
the video i sent husband while he was at work on friday afternoon.
because any kind of scratchy was huge progress from complete lack of sound.
obvsi.)

that said,
it did provide me with immense compassion and empathy
for those who must always use AAC to communicate.
of how frustrating it is when it takes added time.
how frustrating to be behind the conversation,
because it takes time to write anything out.
(i spent multiple days using typing on my phone
and having my phone speak it as my sole means of verbal expression.
side note: the verbal descriptions of emojis are hilarious.)
because.
all words matter.
and everyone deserves to have a voice--
regardless of what form that voice takes.

- - - - -

i made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies this week.
usually i'm not very good at the actual making of cookies part.
but they were so good!
10/10 would recommend.
also,
while doing so i started watching a couple episodes of
the great british baking show.
ummm.
it's fine, it's the most delightful thing in the world.
i know i'm late to this party.
but it's wonderful.

- - - - -

also, i watched the netflix version of anne of green gables that just came out.
anne with an e.
i mean.
i loved it, in the end.
but it's so different from the other movies.
a bit more grim, and i think it takes the bleakness a bit too far sometimes.
also, anne is capital a annoying at the beginning.
not just precocious, but straight-up annoying.
she mellows a bit, though.
and. overall.
i liked it.
also.
anne getting her period for the first time is the
most hilarious and most accurate representation of
how to feel about periods that i've ever seen.

- - - - -

speaking of anne.
the anne to my diana is coming over this afternoon.
sometimes when megs is coming to utah county she stops and visits me on sunday afternoons.
it's the best.
do love my megs.
also, she informed me there's a new broadway musical recently made based on war and peace.
we especially love this song from pierre.
and also. josh groban. heart eyes.

- - - - -

my externship ends this coming week.
funny because last week i was only there for 1.5 of 4 days.
#itsgoinggreatthanks
also the headstart preschoolers had their last day on the 18th!
shame i won't get to see them again.
i should write more gradschool notes to catch up sometime.
there is even so very much to say.

- - - - -

speaking of things to write.
i've started writing kreminate's love story.
it's mostly for me more than anyone else.
and will probably have details that no one else cares much about.
but alas.
even beginning to write.

- - - - -

my laptop is falling apart.
but.
it made it through all of college and a jaunt to romania!
for an early 2009 computer, it's definitely going the way of the wind.
but.
hanging in there.
and has served its good purposes.
yay for making it through grad school!

- - - - -

we still have twinkle lights up in our living room and it still delights me to none end.

- - - - -

started writing thank you cards for the wedding!
who's proud?
i sure am.

- - - - -

i'm having a phase with putting my hair in braids or little bun pigtails.
like. two braids coming down,
or two little buns at the nape of my neck.
i look like i'm twelve,
especially with already having a young face.
but there's just something darling and fun about it.
so i keep doing it.
husband ain't complaining.
(because i'm adorable, obvsi.)

- - - - -

i'm also having a jonsi phase.
in terms of music, you know?
i don't listen to music much anymore.
but.
i'm having a jonsi phase.
also!
regina.
a serious regina phase, too.
and.
just a fun maytime playlist i've been compiling.
also, husband doesn't like mumford & sons.
clearly i'm still working on forgiving him for this.
hahaaaa. kidding. mostly.

- - - - -

there's a rose bush in our front yard, right by where we park in the driveway.
it's a hilarious and lovely collection.
some magenta roses, some pink, an oddball yellow one.
i love it.
we like our basement apartment that isn't completely underground.

- - - - -

happy sabbath.
here's to hoping i'm done being sick now for awhile,
seeing as i've been sick most of the past two months.
(loudly crying face. distraught face.)
i blame the children. and also decompressing from so much stress and flurry.

- - - - -

oh.
p.s. i graduated!
you may now refer to me always as master em.
or just em.
that's cool, too, i guess.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 13.

who knew that the ambition of writing gradnotes
at least once a month while in grad school to chronicle the experience,
was actually too lofty of a goal?
oops.
but here we are.
because that's where we are in america today.

- - - - -

everyone hits the point in grad school.
the point of points that is just part of the experience.

the i'm almost broken and i legitimately don't know if i belong in this career or if i should have signed up for any of this in the first place or why i wrote essays and went through interviews to tell people why i belong here but what am i even doing with my life right now.

^^ THAT point. always in run-on sentence form.
(don't you agree, janessa?)

some people hit it in the dead middle.
others hit it towards the end-but-not-quite-end.
some people at the very beginning.
others at the not-quite-beginning-but-not-yet-middle.

that was me.
last january and early february, i had a really hard time.
reeeheheheheallly hard time.
in which i considered dropping out.
it wasn't just a joking statement that we all make sometimes.
it was a literal, consistent thought.

i hated clinic when i started.
i mean, maybe not hated it.
i liked the clients overall.
but they were trickier cases.
i had no idea what i was doing.
planning and making lesson plans killed me.
it took me forever, i hated feeling like i was a teacher,
because i purposefully chose to not go into education.
some people like making up activities and plans like that.
it made me want to vomit and ugly cry all at the same time.
and.
clinic is the real life.
clinic is what this career is.
and.
if i hated it, what did that mean about this very career choice?

january was rough on a lot of levels.
(have i ever mentioned that i hate january?
oh, right.
just thought i'd throw that out there.
in case you didn't catch it the first five-hundred times.)

in all the winter darkness of struggling with surviving, though.
jillian made me a playlist.
emmylou in january.
with just a little snark and dark, and a whole lot more empowerment and feel-good jams.

in time, it got better.
i'm glad i had some of my most complex clients at the start,
because everything else has felt like a breeze.
it really did empower me.
it really did show me what i'm capable of.
and it really did help me learn the process.
(and find ways for me to not hate it.)

but for january hearts, jillian made some jams.

- - - - -

i've been thinking about my jam lately.
you know, that moment of being in the zone,
able to shut down any outside anythings and focus like a beast?
the jam.

i used to be really good at getting in the jam.
especially in my last semester of undergrad.
(i mean, i was dying and numbing myself which is emotionally unhealthy.
but like. it was really effective for gettingshiiiishtuffdonelikeaboss.)
actually, the whole rest of my undergrad after my mission
i was pretty dang good at finding the jam.
for school, for grad school apps, for the gre.
i could get all intense like that for the things i really was motivated towards.

but.

i've lost my jam.
sometimes i worry lately that i'm not ambitious enough anymore.
that i've lost the ability to get intense and in the zone.
#burnout

but here. now.
in this, the final finals week of my life.
(don't even try to talk to me about phd's.
also the end of the semester is bad timing for that in general.
krem has no intentions of ever doing research or phd or being a formally enrolled student ever again.)
i have no jamming in me anymore.
people keep telling me to give myself a break.
because i'm getting married and stuff. (in 10 weeks!)

but i don't feel like i'm allowed to use that excuse.

i mean, obviously i'm distracted.
obviously i prefer spending time with my love to spending time with school.
but shouldn't i be a better grown up and able to shut everything down and focus once in awhile?
because it's actually really hard for me. #confessions
i feel like i shouldn't be given that excuse.
i don't do much wedding related on a daily basis.
occasionally kind of, but mostly i've been shoving it off to christmas break.
and granted, there's just a lot going on right now.
but. shouldn't i still focus more?
sometimes i feel guilty that i'm not very good at getting into the jam.
that i don't even try sometimes because i'm just so burned out.

just some real talk streams of SFDs* for your saturday.

but today.
today i've been listening to emmylou in january.
and it's my jam.
it's giving me my jam back.

shake it out by florence + the machine is my spirit animal.
spirit song? can that be a thing?

and every demon wants his pound of flesh,
but i like to keep some things to myself.
i like to keep my issues drawn,
it's always darkest before the dawn.

shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out.
and it's hard to dance with a devil on your back, 
so shake him off.

i'm also really into james taylor right now, with a side of billy joel.
and my other jam of the day is you were born by cloud cult.

you were born into a strange world.
like a candle, you were meant to share the fire.
i don't know where we come from, and i don't know where we go.
but my arms were made to hold you, so i will never let you go.
cause you were born to change this life.
you were born to chase this light.

because sometimes all you need
are some jams to give you your jam back, right?
some jams for january.
jamming january.

in honor of education and a final finals week,
i leave you with a photo from the depths of old photo books.
just a little preschool babykrem front and center there from over 20 years ago.

finals week and regression into an incompetent human
alleviated in part by lover, spotify study playlists, and playlists from the bean.

*SFD brought to you by anne lamott and brené brown,
the brilliant humans that they are.
also, probably everyone everywhere
should read rising strong 
at one or multiple points in their life,
because it's just that good.
not even one bit exaggerating.
you're welcome for the gift idea.

merry christmas.
happy finals.
are we done yet?
baaaiiiiii.

i'm trying to write more.

and not be insecure about it.

because writing is good for me and my heart and soul.

(because, realtalktotallyhonest: i'm really insecure about writing any personal words lately.)

and i have stopped writing this year, 

with really good reasons because my focus has been elsewhere.

but i'm trying to start again in multiple forms and venues:

emails, blogs, maybe journals.

messy and stormy and wild mess, though it may be in the process, 

i'm trying.

so if you're bothered by the drafts and messes

that come in writing my thinks, feels, and life:

carry on.

this old world must still be spinning 'round.

man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn't calculate his happiness.
fyodor mikhailovich dostoevsky, notes from the underground.

i saw this quote once about how talking about our troubles and problems is our habit. instead we should break the cycle. talk about our joys. focus on the positive, you could say. express gratitude for what is working and going right. calculate the happiness instead of tallying the troubles.

i'm just as guilty as anyone of getting caught in this cycle.
frustration with the constant deluge of stresses, particularly in grad school.
it's hard. it's frustrating. it's exhausting. it just is.
but.
i wish.
i wish to not get so caught in those troubles.

there's a beautiful bright future ahead.
personally and professionally.
there's so much that i've learned.
personally and professionally.

and.
i'm trying to be more conscious of
the good
here and now and always.
to soak it in and revel in it.
to calculate it up and forget the tally of troubles.

- - -

i really love walking in the cold. last december, i once walked to and from a homecoming down in provo that was a 15-20 minute walk down a hill (and back up the hill to return) and winding through the streets of provo. my grandma was horrified when she found out i walked. it snowed on the way there. it snowed even harder on the way back. but something in that grey cold on the day that marked two years since i'd returned from ukraine, a walk in the cold just felt so right.

i mean. let's not get carried away. i don't love being cold. i don't love when shivers dig deep into your bones and it feels impossible to ever be warm again.

but there's something about walking city streets (or abandoned streets) with a chill on my face in the dark that just. feels so nostalgic and cathartic.

it simultaneously kills me and thrills me.

#justukrainethings

- - -

i've been listening (#thiscommutinglyfethough) to a book lately about trauma and the effect on mind and body. it's fascinating and horrifying and inspiring all at the same time. a beautiful perspective on the human experience and mindfulness. and especially valuable in context of experiences i've had in the past working with people (particularly children) from rougher backgrounds.

in addition to that, though. even more now i see.

i had a mild case of ptsd upon returning from ukraine.
(which is a very large can of worms on its own.)

but it's just interesting.
to hear and see.
to reflect upon and recognize
just how far i've come
in these almost-three (!!!) years.

there's so much to ukraine that often i can hardly even let myself think about it. but other days it bubbles over and i remember her in all her beautifully sincere, suffering, frigid glory. don't cry for me, Украина. the truth is--i'll always love you. i can't help it. though it took some ice-chipping to reach and see, you are a land of gold. and i'd be remiss if i didn't credit those joys.

i've hardly ever loved so deeply as i did then.
i've hardly ever suffered so deeply as i did then.
isn't it funny how those two experiences so often come hand-in-hand?

it's a deep, inexplicable experience in a deep, inexplicable place.
there's something about that eastern land.
something that can't be expressed,
but only felt and experienced personally.

pain and suffering are always inevitable 
for a large intelligence and a deep heart.
the really great men must, i think, 
have great sadness on earth.
fyodor mikhailovich dostoevsky, crime and punishment.

the darkness that hangs--
it's not a myth.
there's a literal different heaviness in the air there,
as mystical as that may sound.
in a literal and figurative sense.
there's a vibe that can't be spoken,
but is shared in knowing eyes by those who have been there.
though anyone who truly digs inside finds,
a land and people of pure gold.
the kind that could only come of
knowing sadness in a way that cultivates the deepest kindness.

she was harsh, but so good to me.
as, i think, so many others would say, too.

with so much distance now,
i've been trying to remember again.
what was it that made it traumatic?
what was it that made it so hard?
what spurred the need for that recovery period upon returning for nearly all who were there?
many things.
combinations of things.
but.
i'm remembering.
i'm grateful to have experienced it.
i'm grateful to be home.

anyway. i guess i just am saying.
i've been thinking about my ukraine more than usual lately.
there i experienced some of the most
magnified horrifying and magnified goodness
that i've ever known.
and i'm also saying that i like to walk in the cold.
something about it stirs up something deep in my soul.
and also that--
i don't care who you are or what your background is--
this book is fascinating and insightful.

- - -

i'm getting married in 77 days.
7 is one of my favorite numbers.
(7 and 8, if you wanted to know.)
there's a lot i want to write about it.
(let's be honest, there's a lot i want to write about a lot of things.)
some days it feels like a blur of time that will never come.
other days it feels like it's only a week away.
i suppose that's how it goes, isn't it?

most of life feels like a blur these days.

you know what doesn't?
the fact that i picked up my wedding dress yesterday.
despite nightmares that i would hate it,
it's fine because it's the most beautiful thing.
erryone can just take a deep breath and breathe easy now.

- - -

i'm exhausted.
deep-in-my-bones exhausted.
thank heavens grad school is winding down.
are we done yet?
it's not even that it's hard at this point.
i just. it's just so draining.
i'm excited for externships.
terrified.
but excited to experience more fully this profession.
it's a beautiful one, you know?
a hidden gem, this speech-language pathology business.

but also.
sometimes i feel like i'm losing neurons, not strengthening them.
like. maybe i'm actually getting stupider, not smarter?
maybe.

- - -

i'm behind on pretty much everything in my life.
top of that list is probably in writing the heart and soul of life.
i feel like i've lost the ability to write anymore in general,
but also about myself, my heart, and my life.

okay, so it's a tie at the top of the list for
how behind i feel on all the school-related things
i need to accomplish in the next 10 days.
including things i've barely started.
woof.

- - -

thus begins the end of one of the fastest years of my life.

i do love twinkle lights and twinkle season.
happy december.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 11.

the clinic has been flooded with new students these days.
a bunch of perky first years running around,
all with apprehensive terror in their eyes.

were we that perky?
we don't think so.
gosh, i hope not.

have you ever noticed that the true sign of
feeling like you're getting the hang of something,
is when you're no longer the new kids on the block?

i mean.
we're fully aware of the terror of what graduation means.
we're fully aware of how much we don't know.
we're fully aware of how grossly unprepared we feel for the real world.
but.
also.
we're fully aware of every second of the past year.
we're (becoming) fully aware that.

we really have learned something.
we really have learned a lot.

in this field,
you spend your whole life learning.
any given client can walk in your door,
any given child can walk into your school,
any given patient can end up in your medical facility.
and suddenly nothing you've really learned applies anymore.
suddenly before you is a brand new puzzle.

we can't know everything.
especially considering how young this field is.
oh my gosh is there so much we don't know.

but you know what we do know?
we know how to tackle anything.
we know what to watch for and how to approach things.

the main difference i've noticed in clinic this fall
compared to previous semesters,
(especially compared to back in january)
is the autonomy we're provided.
our supervisors.
generally speaking--
they trust us.
they follow our observations,
validate our line of thinking,
support the conclusions we come to.
i mean.
of course they're still supervising.
of course they're still the licensed authority in the building.
but they've stepped back much more than before in all areas,
not just in the therapy room.

and you know what?
our plans and thoughts and observations?
they're usually on exactly the right track.
they provide guide posts, of course.
but.
it's much less supervision,
and much more corroboration.
the reins of implementation are entirely in our hands.

little glimpses into the eyes and souls of those terrified first-years
confirm this beautiful truth:
the very worst that grad school has to offer?
it's over.
we've long-since embarked on that downhill slide.
and the light at the end?
it's finally starting to appear.

just see how far we've come.
hallelujah.

wishes kept.

i feel the need to write tonight,

but i couldn't quite tell you why.

perhaps a continuation of what i started writing months ago on love.

maybe on clients and graduate school. 

maybe on things closer to the heart.

however.

i'm in the midst of one of those phases of chaos 

in which exhaustion is perpetual, 

and processing life never gets put into concrete words.

i wish i had words more.

i wish i didn't say that so much.

but i do.

i know myself.

i know i have to write.

and often--

writing, 

in some form or another, 

is the answer.

it's how i come to understand 

and muster through 

this thing called life.

i want to write a whole post dedicated to the experience of 

being involved in the intensive stuttering clinic.

i want to write about life and love and people and connection.

i want to write about the hand of God.

i want to write about families and those connections.

i want to write about my whole first year of graduate school,

now that it's almost the beginning of the second year.

i want to write about a lot of things.

i want to change the world, 

instead i sleep.

song of the day: keep breathing, ingrid.

i sleep.

because it's all i can do 

to keep breathing.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 10.

last weekend i took a weekend trip with gradschoolbffallyson to her home in vernal.
we laughed, talked, and slept.
played games and took walks.
boated and roasted s'mores.
oh, and we studied.
a lot.

that whole big-exam-on-a-monday-in-the-summertime thing can be a real bleen, you know?
(motorspeechisarealkillerrrrrrr.)

people laughed when i told them.
ha. right. vacation. boating. like you're actually going to study.

ha, is right.
joke's on you.
exam aced.

also, turns out vernal is a hidden gem.
and i'm obsessed with their balconies, sunrises, and sunsets.

kremilyferightnow in a nutshell:

i stay up late and get up early.
i write a lot of soap notes. (when i die, you could bury me in all the documentation.)
i work play with a lot of preschoolers. (literally 70% of my grad school client tx hours.)
i fall asleep accidentally. (#noregrets)
i complete a lot of online additional requirements. (whatisupwiththissemesterandonlineadditives??)
i spend a lot (a looooooot) of time on i-15.
i take sanity breaks. (like aforementioned spontaneous trip to vernal.)
i worry about the future. (don't even get me started.)
i try not to think too far ahead.

whether or not i'm actually learning anything or growing in my abilities as a clinician?
to be determined. #workingonit

you really must be tired.
what you wrote was completely lacking
any of your usual flowery language.
--my m.

^^this is actually where we're at in america (and krem's grad schooling) today.
#realtalk
[and for the record, i don't one bit regret today's accidental almost-two-hour nap.]

also, in july we can start saying that there's only 10 months left until graduation.
and in august we're in the single digits.
not that anyone's counting.
(we're totally counting. and trying to avoid drowning along the way.)

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 7.

i'll write you a postcard, 
i'll send you the news
from a house down the road, 
from real love.

live through this, and you won't look back.

there's one thing i want to say, 
so i'll be brave:
you were what i wanted.
i gave what i gave.
i'm not sorry i met you.
i'm not sorry it's over.
i'm not sorry there's nothing to say.
(your ex-lover is dead, stars.)

that's how i feel about this semester, you know?
there were some really good moments.
there were some really rough moments.
i'm not sorry it happened.
i'm not sorry it's (almost) over.
i'm only a little bit sorry there's little to be said.
living through grad school, i won't look back.
i'll send a postcard someday.

- - - - -

midway through march, one of my clients stopped coming.
(ihatemoneyandinsuranceandmoney.)
it was sudden. and i found out after the best session we'd ever had.
on the corners of a grand transition and elevation in progress
while i didn't realize it at first amidst the uncertainty of potential return,
i grieved that sudden loss.
i grieved what could have been and the progress i wouldn't see.
there, right on the cusp of significant progression along the mountain, that's where we stopped.
and i grieved.

it seems strange, really.
i'm only formally acquainted with this child and his mother.
just these few hours a week we shared.
nonetheless, i was sad to see him go.
sad when i realized, that's most likely it for the rest of the semester.
i was involved in the diagnostic for this client.
i wrote the report.
set his first goals.
watched him make phenomenal progress much more quickly than we anticipated.
the initial sessions entrenched in routine suddenly gave way around february.
and by the end of february, he'd achieved his semester goals.
i'll be brave and i gave what i gave.
i'm not sorry we met,
and, to be honest, i have mixed feelings about the fact that it's over.
i'll send a postcard, someday.

- - - - -

the classes have been much simpler this semester than last semester.
the course-load much less.
sometimes i feel a little guilty about my lack of engagement or focus on school this semester.
i mean, i get everything done, of course.
clinic always is priority over classes.
everything we do is constant triage of simply getting done what needs to be.
doing what you can, giving what you can, and moving on.
sometimes i feel a little guilty for how hard i know i'm not working for this.
it's a rigorous program--it really is.
but not in the ways you'd think for being given the label of graduate school.
you're always busy while actually not always busy.
schedules are somewhat flexible for getting done what you need to,
aside from classes, sessions, and meetings.
i have much more time than i ever did in undergrad--
especially my last couple years of undergrad.
it's much easier than that.

and intellectually.
well, it's not challenging.
it's not.
there's critical thinking,
but a different kind than that required in the intricacies of foreign languages and russian literature.

i'm always busy,
but mentally--
i'm often far far away.

my russian capstone was completed a year ago today.
our priceless skits of adaptations to chekhov plays.
meaning, a year ago this week,
i graduated.
(kind of. #israel.)

there's still two-and-a-half weeks left for this semester.
and i'm over here like--
are we done yet?

because.
i'm quite excited for summer and my clinic placements.
(i'll be at the children's center and the intensive stuttering clinic!)
i'm quite excited for next spring.
(i was offered a medical externship!)

it's been real, spring semester 2016.
but let's never meet again.

photo credit: nbc.

brought to you by:

the distractions throughout the semester that have kept me sane.

the darling clients who make it worth it.

the spring sunshine and blossoms galore.

the mountains and the blue sky.

the audio books that make commuting more tolerable.
friday mornings working at the preschool.

thoughts of future vacations. 

and also. chocolate shakes.

because--why not?

but me, i'm not a gambler.

oh, hello.

did you know that march is nearly over?
(springspringspringspringspring!)

did you know that i have a cold again?
(so many january negative associations coming back.)

did you know that i don't write about anything nearly enough?
(thoughts, feelings, events. do i sound like a broken record?)

did you know that the end of march will be seven of twenty-one months of grad school completed?
(one-third in the books, thankyouverymuch.)

did you know i wish i wrote in a journal more than once every few months?
(that's generous. every few months at best.)

did you know that i feel i've lost the deeper-thinking and insight-filled side of my soul that processes things?
(i'm embarrassed to admit that when writing the last sentence, i first wrote losted on accident.
talk about overgeneralization of regular past tense.)

did you know that it's the first day of spring?
(i do dearly love the springtime.)

did you know that i completely adore working with preschool-age kids?
(my job is the best.)

did you know that my russian is becoming abysmal?
(a gradschoolproblem at its finest.)

did you know that life feels like a bit of a whirlwind that rarely gets time for a good round of thinking?
(the messy middle, as one of my russian professors would always say.
and because of this, it's actually kind of a relief when some aspects of life or schooling take their sweet time.)

but i suppose you already might have known all that.^^
(then what do you even need me
(and my abundance of parenthetical statements)
around here for?)

goodbye, love.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 6.

guys.
february has flown by.
literally.
flown.

and. you know what?
it's been quite a good month.
a good one, indeed.

do i sound a little bipolar after my last edition of gradnotes?
grad school is my eternal scapegoat for lack of sanity.
and it's been quite an extreme turn around.
take that for what you will or for what it's worth.

i have five trillion things i need to make time to write about in some place or another,
but for now i'm sticking with my aim for having a regular journal of grad school as it goes.
this small portion of life (that most days feels so long), is a pivotal, soul-stretching, soul-enlarging time.
and i want record of that journey.
a qualitative and subjective record of the progress,
separate entirely from any objective measures. (read: gradesandevaluationsgalore.)

guess what?
i see real progress in my clients.
my sessions are going so well.
(almost too well, quite frankly.)
good rapport has been built.
and i've found a groove.
a groove inside the uncertainty.
certainty inside the uncertainty of all that i still don't know.
i'm learning.

with one of my clients, the real secret to planning is not planning too much in advance.
because only a minor portion would ever go as planned anyways.
everything relies upon being in the moment and thinking on my feet.
perfect presentness.
because it doesn't matter so much what the activity or materials are.
it matters what you do with them.
i'm learning.
things hardly ever go the way i plan with my other client either,
even when that plan is loose and tentative from the start.
(six-year-olds, amiright?)
and yet, it still all works out.
i'm learning.

lately, i keep feeling like i'm on the downhill slide, especially after this semester is over.
that the end and the real world are not so far away.
i mean. next year and graduation still feels a million miles away,
but i'm taking that as improvement from being entire light years away, as they once felt.

during class tonight, i was thinking about how different my position is now from where it was at the start.
i was thinking about the nearly-nervous-breakdown that was had in january.
i mean, was it really that big of a deal?
what the capital-h-heck was wrong with me?
why did i have such a profound career/life crisis at that time?
i mean, i know.
kind of.
but.

honestly?



i still don't know.


i wish i could tell you what it was that changed.
i wish i knew.
a lot of things together, i guess.
when it comes down to it, though, i simply know that a change has taken place.
slowly, almost imperceptibly.
oh, the changes that have come.
slowly, almost imperceptibly, as one day stretches into another.
only in quiet moments do i look up for a moment and see just how this experience is evolving.

because.
despite being buried in somanythingstodoandreportstowrite,
and drained with an exhaustion that sinks deep into my soul,
it's a good kind of drained, you know?
a drained that comes from giving your heart and soul to worthwhile causes.
now i am tired, but resolute. (firstaidkit.)
because the general trajectory is a good one.
a really really good one.

in our voice disorders class last week,
we watched several videos of psychosocial interviews.
and. well.
they gave me incredibly heavy boots.
psychosomatic responses.
the way humans react to circumstances, sometimes without realizing it.
it's amazing, really--isn't it?

i often considered going into counseling.
in fact, just before receiving my first grad school acceptance,
it became my plan b--just in case i didn't get in to grad school.
i was worried i wouldn't, worried i'd be left a fool.
and so, at long last, on a simple saturday, i found my plan b.

well, we know how this story ends.
i got into grad school(s).
and am now on this pathway.
to stay--for now, anyway.
but sometimes i wonder.
because i ever so love to dig into people's souls.
to peak inside and help them see.
i don't anymore--not often, anyway.
but these videos we watched--
they reminded me why i don't think i could ever go into counseling--not professionally, anyway.
because i'd take too much into my soul,
and there it would be too heavy for me.
ergo, here we are in another branch of humanity.
they all build on one another, you know.
all these related fields.
and so here i am, in the world of speech and language--
where communication reigns.

i'm self-conscious about my writing lately.
i feel i've lost my touch, insight, or wisdom.

but i just wanted to say--
here i am.
marching on.
we are okay, we are alright. (joshuaradin.)
okay.
and so we're marching on.
okay?
okay.

i'm here.

that fickle thing.

i'd rather be broken than empty.

i'd rather be shattered than hollow.

now i am tired, but resolute

that i'd rather be striving than settled.

i'd rather be moving than static.

time, time is a fickle thing.

let's see what it can bring.

(shattered and hollow, first aid kit.)

- - - - -

a year and a half ago feels like six months ago.

six months ago feels like a year and a half ago.

a year ago, i was in the throes of a russian-consumed, applying-to-grad-school, almost-graduated existence.

now i'm in the throes of a speech-and-language-consumed, in-grad-school, far-from-graduated existence.

sometimes i'm concerned by the fickle nature of time.

let's see what it can bring.

song of the day: shattered and hollow, first aid kit.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 2.

worst day of grad school > worst day of undergrad.
funny how that works, eh?
not that grad school isn't a lot--it is.
but. it's not so all-consuming as my last year of speechpathrussiangradapps was.
(cause that was just insanity. let's never do that again, yeah?)
this isn't rocket science, after all.
and, considering there's so much we don't know, there's a lot of ambiguity.

you know what the things is about grad school?
they don't actually force you to do anything.
not really.
it's expected.
and not doing these things punishes no one but yourself.
there's glory in that--
it's all your own.

- - -

i get a weird joy out of being lost in basements of libraries.
not lost, but lost to the world. at least for a time.
though sometimes it also makes me feel like i'm losing my humanity.
also. truth universally acknowledged?
it's always cold in the dungeons of the library.
always. why is that?

- - -

i like the different research findings we talk about,
but i don't like the research process itself or academia.
still, i'm frustrated by the desperate need for more research.
when humans are involved, though, research only goes so far.
that's something i kind of love about this field: ambiguity.
because sometimes there's not going to be an answer. it's okay not to know.

ease with ambiguity.
comfort with complexity.
confidence tempered by humility.

- - -

in one of my classes a few weeks ago, we were talking about biases.
researcher bias, examiner bias, all the possible bias in all things.
if you believe something in your head, you might find that.
agreed.

but. you know?
i also think.
sometimes. you must know what you're looking for in order to find.
not in all cases, of course.
in life, though.
with people.
perhaps you need a general idea of what you're aiming for if you ever hope to get there.

- - -

what do i really want out of life?
what do i really want it to look like?
these are the things i think about and scribble in the margins of notebooks during long lectures.
or when i've finished exams or quizzes before everyone else.
(i'm almost concerned at this trend--this finishing so soon when i receive last.)
i think too much, really.
that's my problem.
and yet i can't stop thinking and wondering.
what do i reallytrulyactually want out of life?
how do i truly want my life to look?
more than that--how do i get there?
most days i know, some days it all seems farfetched.

i wonder more often than i probably should why i am where i am.
not in my university, of course. in other things.

- - -

despite all these things we study and talk about,
even with the medical interests i have--
i still keep coming back to autism and languages/bilingual issues.
what does this mean? does it mean?
the other day one of my professors was talking about her research and her history.
how as a graduate student, she was bored with the typical, and so she got involved with some other research.
it was the part of my days i was most looking forward to.
and that's where i needed to go. that's what i needed to do.
[she studied complex syntax, and i thought it was fascinating.]
i'm not saying i'm interested in complex syntax. (i'm really not.)
but i am saying.
i'm bored.
my time is consumed, but i am bored.
and so i think too much.
and my mind wanders from every topic to what influence that may have on autism.
and i'm all filled up with all these pieces of different languages.
i mean, it's mostly russian anymore.
but there are still all those other pieces.
that must be for something. it's something cultivatable.

in my developmental language disorders class the other day,
we were talking about preschools for a minute.
and. you know?
an autism preschool.
a language-based preschool for individuals with autism.
that wouldn't be so bad.

(speaking of preschools.
when my children someday go to preschool.
i'd like their teacher to have a college degree.
and preferably, i'd like it to be a language-focused curriculum.
too much? right. okay. we'll cross that bridge later.)

- - -

i'm perplexed sometimes by the mix of people and personalities that end up in this field.

perhaps even more perplexed by the way there's not as much variation as you'd think.

- - -

if you don't like people, if you can't have empathy--
you shouldn't be in this field.

did you know they've done studies?
in the end.
if you're a good clinician, you'll see results--regardless of what you do.
these things we're learning, they're tools.
but sometimes.
even when the work is good, the research results are not inspiring.
and there is no one-way ticket to minimizing negative effects of language and speech disorders.
individuals, you see.
there's something in that, though.
the fact that, if you're a good clinician, you'll see results.
because it's about being a human being.
who believes. cultivates. empowers.

- - -

all of my personal experiences prior to graduate school--
well, they don't all relate. not really.
people say things--with astonishment, of course--like,
oh, you know russian?? look at you. that's so great. i'm sure it will be useful.
i'm sure it will. because it's useful in life. kind of.
but the offering in this field from russian-speaking countries is meager.
speech-language pathology isn't a very large field outside of the united states,
especially outside of english-speaking countries.
in ukraine i'd tell people what i was studying,
and often they had no idea what it was.
i had to describe the field to them, just as i frequently do in english.

my russian, particularly as a double major,
honestly has very little to do with the things i study now.
and yet.
all these languages i've studied.
all the literature that has seeped into my soul.
the experiences i've shared with so many different kinds of human beings.
they've sharpened me.

a sharpening a bit like a pencil in a pencil sharpener, you could say.
not one of those pretty electric ones that flooded into classrooms in my later elementary years--
rather, the metal manual sharpeners.
the ones you have to crank with your hand, and listen to the grinding.
you know?
everyone secretly despised the person who got up in the middle of a spelling test to sharpen their pencil.
despised that painful grinding that pierced through the room.
it's not pretty, that process.
the shavings discarded in all shapes and sizes.
sometimes you think the pencil's sharpened,
when really there's a hunk of wood on one side blocking the lead.
and so you shove that pencil back in and twirl the crank around,
pushing the pencil towards the circulating blades.
and then when you pull the pencil out--she's sharp as an arrow.
oh boy, is she sharp.

so it is.

these experiences from every kind of place and time.

these interactions with people of every kind.

they sharpen my perspective.

they sharpen the way i approach and categorize new information with the old.

they sharpen. me.

sharp.

- - -

p.s. first fall break i've ever had in college?

joke's on me. there's still several things scheduled for clinic throughout the week.

in addition to a ridiculous amount of things to be done.

#happyfallbreaktoyoutoo

then again. today i slept in.

did a bunch of laundry.

(washed my sheets for the first time in youdon'twanttoknow how long.)

ran through these beautiful streets.

worked on some readings.

did some researching trying to find article upon article.

worked on these bigger projects.

and made pumpkin chocolate-chip cookies while watching parenthood. 

(aka mynewfavoriteguiltypleasureshow.)

i'm nowhere near done.

but. you know. this breakandbreathe lyfe ain't so bad.

who needs pictures?

brought to you by some places and faces filling my cameraroll the past couple months.
how was life ever documented pre-iphone?
can you believe people used to carry around cameras alldayeveryday?

right. me neither. and i even was one of those people.

steve jobs must be laughing a devilish laugh.
viva le iphone.
(in all its sometimes-blurry glory.)

if it seems i'm

in the same shoes, in the same places,
sometimes with people, occasional visitors, mostly alone,
sometimes eating, always reading--
you are seeming right.
всё правильно.
#gradschooling.