Ahhh yes..... LABOR day

It's days like this that I LOVE what I do. Allow me to paint the picture. I am sitting in my office. Notice I said "office", not a "square, gray, lifeless, this-kind of resembles the little plastic box we used to carry our dog around in, is-this-a-recognized-form-of-torture, you-couldn't-squelch-my-creativity-any-more-if-you-tried" cubicle.

Allow my friend Dilbert to echo my sentiments:

Anywho... sitting here in my office, my window is open and the first fall-like day is blowing breeze into my office (blowing my papers off my desk and bringing with it a few bees... but that's beside the point).

I plan on leaving is just 3 hours, for a long weekend boating on a lake in southern Minnesota with the fam (thank you Central Labor Union circa 1882 for giving me Monday off)
*OK I had to Google that just now, I'll admit that....

Really, who knows what Labor Day means besides just a free day off of work? Please do enlighten me if you know because I honestly don't have to time to filter through Google's 110 million hits explaining it.

What I can tell you is what Labor Day means to me. Ironically, 2 years ago, as everyone else was enjoying a day off, eating hot dogs, throwing Frisbees and the like, I was literally going into LABOR! Like, gonna-have-a-baby, don't-even-think-it's-cute-to-make-a-joke-right-now-about-"labor", labor. Yes, I made my transition from hulking tank of 9 months of DQ Blizzards, prenatal vitamins and backaches, into a mother, all in the blink of an eye. (or 14 hours of backbreaking labor...but who's counting?)

So, as you are doing whatever it is you do over Labor Day, A) be thankful you aren't in actual labor and B) know that I am having a great time acting like an 18 year old- tubing, getting sunburned and staying up too late!

Have a great weekend!

Textbooks, assignments and syllabi, OH MY!

Well, Tuesday the world drew a collective sigh of.....what.....despair? excitement? relief? dread??? Yes, Tuesday marked the first official day of classes. Not only at Simpson, but at colleges nationwide, including classes I am taking to complete my grad degree.

I was indeed excited for the beginning of the Simpson classes, because seeing my students here is fun, rewarding, and- yeah, yeah I know, I'll stop, I've said it all before and you're probably getting sick of my syrupy-"sounds good in theory but in reality it's a sticky mess that gives you a sugar high and toothache"- sweetness toward "my kids." But I was also filled with dread at beginning my final semester of my own classes. My Tuesday class started with a prof who has 2 PhD's and a 12 page syllabus! I mean, c'mon! Heading into my 3rd and final year of the program- my excitement is waning a bit. It’s Iowa, it’s August- therefore twice a week, I hurry to the babysitter’s to swiftly nab my sweet child, stuff her little curly-headed self into a car seat- drive home- hurriedly feed her, give her kisses and head back out into the night. Where, as it turns out- most people are playing, reading, relaxing, swimming, running, eating, smiling, or doing any number of things that don't have to do with any words like "financial, strategic, corporate, flows, applications, accounting, management, statistics or processes." As is turns out I am not so lucky. I’m hungry and I have to sit for the next 3 hours listening to an MBA professor fill my head full of reasons I should care about running a top-down beta verses a regression (no offense to said professor- I’m sure it’s useful to somebody). When the suffering ends- I trudge to my car- relinquish yet another $1.50 parking “dot”- and spend the next 35 minutes wondering what the heck I am doing to myself as I commute back to my little slice of heaven.

I read somewhere that some suma cum laude grad students were given their finals a second time, only ONE MONTH after taking them for real- and they all failed! So, the basic equation here is: pay money, take classes, pay more money for outrageously expensive text books because you can't use the 8th edition (which sells for $3 at Amazon) because only the 9th edition is capable of teaching you these amazing concepts (it happens to sell for the low, low price of $96.50 at Amazon), read the book, memorize the problems in the book, cram for test, get degree. I think that sums it up.

Maybe I am, after all, insane for enduring this self-inflicted torture. I mean, after my Tuesday class I did fall into convulsions of laughter, rocking back and forth until I was foaming at the mouth. (that's normal, right?)

But, alas, let this not deter you my faithful readers. If indeed you are one of the 3 prospective students that stumble across this blog just know that my Simpson education was vastly different. OK, yes, my profs expected me to come to class....on time....fully functioning. But they were kind, smart, and yes, just maybe, when the stars aligned and the mythological gods smiled upon the campus, sometimes they were even funny.

A glimpse inside My World!

So, for all of my whining and complaining in my last blog, move-in day turned out to be, in fact, picture perfect. Yes, it was a a crisp, collegiate, sunny day! I was dying with envy- how I'd LOVE to be back in those shoes: those "naive-but-think-I'm-cool, fresh-faced, can't wait to meet my true-love, I wonder how hard classes will be, high school is SO overrated (but I'll still go back to homecoming)" shoes.

I have to say, as an admissions counselor, move-in day ranks right up there with a big spicy burrito from my favorite Indianola establishment, La Casa (AKA "La Awesome") or a night curled up on the couch watching SATC reruns. See, life in admissions is not always glamorous. I work with tons of great kids each year and along the way I forage through enough paperwork and applications to almost single handedly wipe out the logging industry, I make so many phone calls that I have my 25 digit calling card number memorized and I find myself reciting it in my sleep and I listen to every excuse under the sun and have to show remarkable restraint to act like it makes any sense at all: "It's too far from home."-"It's too close to home."-"I know too many people going there."-"I don't know anyone else going there." "It's not by a lake" ..... you get the idea.

And what am I up against you ask? Some colleges use any tactic imaginable to get students to enroll. They spin the truth. Bash other colleges. Promise unattainable internships because ONE time, 20 YEARS ago, somebody got that internship....(because they had an uncle who worked there in the first place...or some weird thing like that.) They recruit and promise positions to athletes that have no business playing anything other than middle-school kick ball. Why do I whine and complain and work myself into a frenzy over such frivolities? Because I put my heart into meeting students and trying to find the best college for them. Sometimes it's Simpson... sometimes it isn't. But it warms my heart to see "my kids" moving in and preparing to have the best four years of their life!

Blahhhh-ging

So, here it is- 24 hours before new student move-in day. And sure enough, it has rained for 5 straight days. As I type, our football team is scrimmaging their first game of the season just 100 yards away from me. I'd loved to say I am sitting here watching them from my office window- battling it out on the gridiron. Caked in mud from head to toe. Grimy, gritty but warriors through and through.

But, in all honesty, these days our field, like most others, is artificial turf. The worst thing the rain does is cause a little slippage. Maybe a little turf-burn. Anticlimatic don't you think? So, there is nothing interesting or dramatic about the game or the day. It's just rainy. And gray. And wet. Blahhh.

Let's hope for some sunshine tomorrow!

Freshman Friday

OK, what is Freshmen Friday? It is the day of the week I have words of advice for incoming freshmen. Today's lesson is on moving in. Timely, since new students move in just one week from tomorrow!

Now, lesson #1. It is August in Iowa. Therefore it's probably not going to be a picture perfect crisp collegiate day. No, instead it will be the kind of muggy, sticky, sweaty, "did I forget to put my deoderant on or what" kind of August day. Words of wisdom: crank the A/C up in your room when you get there, nobody wants the smell of sweaty stinky people lingering in their oh-so-spacious dorm room!

#2. If you are packing enough furniture for a 6-person family with 3 dogs and a gerbil, then bring a wheely cart or some mode of transport. Every year I see dads single handedly lifting furniture bigger than I have in my house! I can see their discs rupturing before my very eyes! For goodness sakes, even the QwikTrip workers wear those back support belt things and the biggest thing they are lifting is a box of Gatorade! In name of Bishop Matthew Simpson himself, give dad a break!

#3. Just assume you'll have to go to Walmart at least three times that first day. Sure enough, you'll have remembered the most obsure, useless thing ever, like a sweater rack (yes, my roomate did bring one to college) but you'll have forgotten something essential like a towel! See showers are down the hall....so shower...naked...hallway...no towel.. yeah, it's problematic, definitely worth a trip to Walmart.

#4. Finally, be prepared to have some fun! Be open minded, let your guard down and throw all of your assumptions out the door. I was a funky city girl and roomed with a very small town country bumpkin. Within days we were inseparable! No matter how tempting it is and how afraid you might feel, get out there and meet some people! You won't regret it for a second! (unless an uber-geek clings on to you and starts following you everywhere, then you might regret it a little)

Harry Potter and the Dairy Deluge

OK, what has deep fried *insert food here* (seriously anything will work- hot dogs, bananas, snickers, pickles...) on a stick, top notch musical acts from around the world, and a few thousand sticks of buttery goodness artistically sculpted into the form of my favorite boy-wizard? If you guessed a popcorn factory on a busy British street corner during RockStock 2007 you'd be wrong. It's actually the Iowa State Fair, in all of it's 100 degree, sweat dripping, food-on-a-stick licking, "you've got to be kidding me she's not really wearing that in public," glory. It's got to be the only place where you can watch tractor square-dancing, then rock out a few hours later to Alice Cooper. Very nice indeed.

Bottom line is this- if you're going to be in the area anyway to try your hand at the rooster clucking contest or cow patty flinging, then zoom on down to campus- we're only about 15 minutes out of the way. While we don't have a contest for highest corn stalk, I haven't given up all hope of immortalizing our president in the form of butter. I mean, come on, if it's good enough for Harry Potter! ? !

A day of mourning...

You know those relationships that just get better over time? You really learn about the other, come to appreciate their imperfections and devote hours of time and attention really listening to them? Well, this morning that was abruptly ripped away from me and I have to say I am reeling. My morning started like any other. I groaned when the alarm clock went off. I showered in a sleepy daze. I made myself presentable and with 4 minutes to spare, I sat down at my computer, knowing that it would probably make me 5 minutes late to work. But then the awful reality really hit me. My Itunes went wonky! All of my songs, all of my playlists---- gone. Just like that. There was no warning, no horrible freeze-up, no blue-screen of death. One day my 800 songs in all of their toe-tapping, air-guitar prompting glory were there, and the next they were gone. I think there are stages of grief. Something about denial, anger and then maybe acceptance? I'm not sure where horrifically distraught fits in there... any psych majors out there???

Until next time---
-Beth