14 Days, 6 Hours, 51 minutes

That's the stuff I have to do.

It doesn't look so bad in list format. Don't be fooled

In this program assignments aren't just "assignments."
In the case of 550 - Planning Theory, my partner and I have to interview both the Philadelphia and Atlanta Planning Commissions, do a literature review on the historic "planning culture" of the city (in both common press and literary journals) and then synthesize it all into a lovely term paper. (Only it's not a term paper, it's just one of three similarly large assignments in combination with two midterms and one final exam.)

In the case of 624 - Quantitative Methods, we have to sift through my professor's ridiculously vague description of an assignment and put into practice what we supposedly learned in the last three labs when we were sifting through similarly obfuscated directions. Sweet!

GIS assignments are similarly open-ended and time consuming.

678 - the graphics class - is easy conceptually - draw shit in various programs, however, it's time consuming. I'll probably come back to that periodically when my brain is too tired to think.

540 - History of Planning - finish damn research paper on "historically important planner" Patrick Geddes, then take exam on non-critical, fluff history of planning. Easy enough since it requires no deeper level analysis of history! My final exam - "Everything planners ever did was good, and even the bad stuff was ok, since they were products of their time." - Excellent, A+. I just spent $7000 in tuition on that class :)

And after finishing all the "deliverables", (a word with which I've become all too familiar this semester) I shall study for exams. Then I shall take exams. And then I shall return home and hibernate for a couple weeks, perhaps re-read Harry Potter books, and/or other highly important, non-planning literature, watch movies, snuggle with Toby, Natalie, and anyone else who'll have me (yay human interaction!), not drink alcohol or eat chocolate (thanks to the ulcer this city planning program so graciously bestowed upon me!) and smile blankly into space until my cognizant mind returns from its retreat.

I can't wait.

Without a fight

Who knew happiness could be so quiet?

I don't consider myself an argumentative person by nature -- maybe some of you would disagree. I've definitely gone through phases where I like to argue, but I suppose I'm out of that now. Even in class I find myself without anything to add to debates about modernism, post modernism, and ethics (some of my favorites!). Maybe I'm not down with the format of asserting myself in an interrupting manner whenever the prof says anything that could be argued with. I'm all about meaningful debate, but I guess I prefer to hear what profs have to say, and decide what I think about it, before interrupting class time to bloviate at length for my own egotistical satisfaction. But I digress.

On the one hand, I find myself without any desire to argue and I wonder if I should be concerned. I don't feel like enforcing my ideas on anyone else. I don't feel like fighting for ideals. I don't feel impassioned about anything in particular. Perhaps this is an offshoot of my previous post. I haven't sorted through all this stuff in depth on my own so I'm not quite sure what I think anymore.

Perhaps more disconcertingly, I don't feel like fighting with other people cuz I'm not sure what I want to fight for. I'm struggling to reconcile myself to a number of disparate beliefs that I once believed concretely. Or rather, I'm currently questioning previously concrete components of my identity (good sentence, no?). I once wanted to be a city planner. I still do. But now I don't know what that really means. I once considered myself a Christian. I still do. But now I don't know what that means, or if I really like what that means. I once wanted to be in love. I still do but...I once wanted to get married, I once wanted to move around the world, I once wanted ... It goes on like this. I fear I don't have much fight in me, not only because I don't know what I want, but I don't know if I know who I am? These things I knew I wanted in a way defined me. Now I don't know how to define myself. That sounds melodramatic. I'm not sure if it's true. Ha.

On the other hand, at least in the context of a relationship, it's so nice to not have to fight. I like being able to enjoy things, and share that enjoyment without having to logically justify my enjoyment. I like having someone else just get it. I like just getting someone else. I like not having to fill every moment of silence with something. Shared silence is quite a lovely something that is all too often ruined with weightless words.

I think one of the most beautiful parts of an amazing Thanksgiving break was reading newspapers on a Starbucks couch, passing favorite articles between us. As I've said before, sometimes I tend to get too caught up in my head. It was amazing to spend time with someone whose presence magically makes all those stupid internal debates disappear. For the entire week, it was like someone hit the mute button inside my head. So as we read the Times and the Tribune, I heard silence and rustling pages, and Starbucks' token world-music-of-the-week album, and the prose of some wonderful Tribune staff writer -- instead of an internal monologue droning on about which of Jameson's four quadrants I fall into.

Now that I'm back to the real world, my self-imposed esoteric dilemmas are back to hashing themselves out in the space between my ears while I vainly try to get work done. But in the same vein as above, it's nice to have someone send me an NPR show they happened to come across which they think I'd like. Those small tokens of affection somehow possess that same peace which reminds me why I'm here and what I'm doing and who I am when I'm not muddling through theory and history and computer programming.

I suppose thoughts of the previous week's loveliness will have to get me through two more weeks of school work. I'm now transcending stress and just enjoying learning (or trying to. I was mad zen-like earlier today! With a deadline tomorrow morning I wonder how long it'll last...) Regardless, Christmas break isn't so far away and I've never looked forward to it more.

If you're reading this, I love you.

<3
K

Absorbing and Reflecting

Two separate but related thoughts:

One - I am learning a lot at school. This is good. I am learning new skills in the forms of new computer programs and data analysis methods. I am also learning new theories of planning which are quite fascinating and are blowing my mind. The problem is that I have so much stuff to do that I don't have time to internalize the theory. I know it and understand it, but I don't have time to think about it and absorb it into my personal theory of what kind of planner I want to be. I came here so certain of what I wanted to do and now I feel confused and overwhelmed and uncertain about all of the options and realities of what planners actually do.

Two - I missed Grand Rapids for the first time a couple days ago. I realized how much I took it for granted. More specifically, I did not appreciate how lucky I was to have not just one but many close friends to whom I could talk about anything at any time. I missed having people to stay up late with and/or have conversations with while falling asleep.

These two thoughts are cyclically related. First, I realized the problem from part one through a phone conversation with a friend from part two. (Sorry, this is mad cryptic) Essentially, I internalized all of my learning in undergrad because I had good friends to talk to about everything. I also make my best realizations about myself by talking to people who know me well. They don't even have to talk, I can just talk at them, and by talking, all of a sudden, I have a revelation about whatever situation I'm talking about.

The moral of the story: In a previous blog (http://urbananarama.blogspot.com/2007/09/on-love.html) I talked about how love (as in a relationship) makes a person real. I think this extends to friends. Being known and loved by someone, and being able to confide in someone -- the fact that that relationship exists somehow substantiates your existence. Just a conversation with a good friend (even if they're hundreds of miles away) is like looking in a mirror after you haven't seen your reflection in a long time. If you're forgetting yourself or are confused about who or what you are, a friend can remind you without saying anything. Your muddled thoughts bounce off their presence on the other end of a phone line and come back crystal clear. This is a fascinating phenomenon.

On the one hand, I feel like my identity is safely stored in best friends across the country who won't forget who/what I am, even if I'm starting to. That's a reassuring thought. On the other hand, it sucks that those people are all so far away. I know making close friends takes time, but I don't really feel like making new best friends. I have them already. I don't need any more.

Unlike conversations, writing this hasn't clarified much. I guess I want to say thanks to all of you close friends who are far away. I truly appreciate you despite the distance between us and I hope you are all well. Now everyone move to Philadelphia. Just kidding...kind of. Maybe someday we can all live on the same block and be crazy old people together. In the meantime, hearts to you all, and I wish you luck with whatever adventures you're pursuing.