Every couple of days, I have to write up our company's AFE administrator and request that a recently-closed AFE be reopened, so that I can enter an invoice into it, if the invoice date is older than the AFE's termination date.
I get really bored with the repetitive emails, so I have asked in a variety of fashions, from mildly apologetic, to overly enthusiastic, to slightly ironic. Each and every time, I get an identical response: "Hi, this is now opened." The time before last, I thought to myself as I searched for new words to make a routine email less monotonous, "Next time, I should just write a poem."
So this time, I did, in limerick form:
From: Me
Sent: Wednesday, September 10, 2008 1:29 PM
Subject: An AFE...
I have this invoice to key,
But alas, the poor AFE
Has been terminated,
But the invoice is dated
July, so please open it for me?
AFE# 200631065
It took only a couple of minutes to compose, and I sent it off, feeling rather pleased, and hopeful that the uniqueness would add some fun to the administrator's day, and perhaps invite a more interesting response.
My hopefulness was completely wasted. This was the administator's reply:
Sent: Wednesday, September 10, 2008 1:42 PM
To: Me
Subject: RE: An AFE...
Hi, this is now opened.
Did they not even notice it was a limerick? Or did they not even care? Who knows. Either way, having your creative efforts unnoticed is always a little deflating, even if it is just a limerick.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Monday, August 25, 2008
Pure Relief
My piano exam is over. Finished. It happened.
I can still scarcely believe it. Two years ago, when I first had the thought, "Hey, I'm going to take this exam," I don't really think I had much of an idea how hard it was really going to be. The past two summers have been entirely sacrificed to that goal. I think all my friends just thought I was a really boring recluse, but boy, was I ever working hard.
This past summer was the climax of it all, of course. After I got back from Ukraine at the very end of May, the next three months were one big ramp-up to the exam date for me, work-wise, and also most notably, psychologically. I've never been one to handle performance nerves well. And I'd never had to perform a program close to that size before. So when the days between myself and my exam started getting in the 30 range, and then the 20 range, my focus closed in, yes, but I also went into something kind of like long-term panic mode, and didn't realize it until it was over.
I sat on the couch the afternoon after my exam, trying to absorb the fact that this event I'd been unable to see past for so long had already taken place. It was a pretty incredible feeling. The world felt like it had suddenly returned to colour again, and I hadn't even realized how it had slowly grown increasingly gray as I pushed myself in my preparations. I felt like myself again. My mind was finally my own again - no longer forced to constantly battle fugues and fears and fingering patterns. It was like the past month of stress and fatigue and tears had never even happened at all, and it was just an ordinary August day...
Lessons learned? First off, I know I ramp up way too much about performances. But, see, that is a big reason I'd never want to become a concert performer for a career. No way. But performances are often necessary, even if they aren't your career, and nerves only get in the way of performances. Yet again, as I've discovered retrospectively so many times in my life, I just need to calm down about things, and take life a little less seriously. The potential worst-case scenario is never as bad as you thought it might have been, once you identify it. Then you realize life will go on, no matter how bad things turn out. For myself, I need to start realizing that before the fact, instead of after.
I can still scarcely believe it. Two years ago, when I first had the thought, "Hey, I'm going to take this exam," I don't really think I had much of an idea how hard it was really going to be. The past two summers have been entirely sacrificed to that goal. I think all my friends just thought I was a really boring recluse, but boy, was I ever working hard.
This past summer was the climax of it all, of course. After I got back from Ukraine at the very end of May, the next three months were one big ramp-up to the exam date for me, work-wise, and also most notably, psychologically. I've never been one to handle performance nerves well. And I'd never had to perform a program close to that size before. So when the days between myself and my exam started getting in the 30 range, and then the 20 range, my focus closed in, yes, but I also went into something kind of like long-term panic mode, and didn't realize it until it was over.
I sat on the couch the afternoon after my exam, trying to absorb the fact that this event I'd been unable to see past for so long had already taken place. It was a pretty incredible feeling. The world felt like it had suddenly returned to colour again, and I hadn't even realized how it had slowly grown increasingly gray as I pushed myself in my preparations. I felt like myself again. My mind was finally my own again - no longer forced to constantly battle fugues and fears and fingering patterns. It was like the past month of stress and fatigue and tears had never even happened at all, and it was just an ordinary August day...
Lessons learned? First off, I know I ramp up way too much about performances. But, see, that is a big reason I'd never want to become a concert performer for a career. No way. But performances are often necessary, even if they aren't your career, and nerves only get in the way of performances. Yet again, as I've discovered retrospectively so many times in my life, I just need to calm down about things, and take life a little less seriously. The potential worst-case scenario is never as bad as you thought it might have been, once you identify it. Then you realize life will go on, no matter how bad things turn out. For myself, I need to start realizing that before the fact, instead of after.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Another Page Turned; Another Fork Taken
I think I'm finally ready for launch. All my paperwork, decisions, and finalizations are made and done. I'm signed on for two more years at another university.
I corresponded one last time with my fantastic program advisor from my previous school, and when he replied for the last time, he signed off, saying, "Wishing you all the best in your new life."
...New life?
It struck me strangely, all of the sudden, to think that this wasn't merely the next step, but a new and very different step. With this choice come all kinds of challenges - about a new campus, new faculty, new living arrangements, new program, new people, and so many other 'new' things. It's scary, but it's also very exciting. I saw my new school's campus just a week ago, and to actually stand there, see it, and be able to imagine myself being there, was a bit reassuring. It takes some of the unknown out of the equation.
Perhaps the single biggest challenge of this situation is that I'm moving from the coziness of a very small school in a very small town, to a bigger school in a very big city. I've been living in the city for over a month now, and while it was uncomfortable for me at first, I've actually discovered quite a few things I love about being here. There is always so much going on! I can walk over to a few different ethnic districts, browse the unique stores there, pick up a new kind of tea to sample, or enjoy a special treat of a meal. There are countless performing arts events going on all around me - and lots of them are free (this is a huge plus for a student)! There is simply far more here to see, experience, engage in, and try out.
The icing on the cake for me was getting an interview date yesterday for a music-related job I've been dying to work in for close to a year now.
So, when it really comes down to it, as much as I miss the closeness and warmth of a small town, I really think I will enjoy big-city living for the next two years.
I hope all of you academic-types who are gearing up for, or in the middle of, some sort of big transition after the end of the previous school year are having success and looking forward to what's around the next bend. Cheers!
I corresponded one last time with my fantastic program advisor from my previous school, and when he replied for the last time, he signed off, saying, "Wishing you all the best in your new life."
...New life?
It struck me strangely, all of the sudden, to think that this wasn't merely the next step, but a new and very different step. With this choice come all kinds of challenges - about a new campus, new faculty, new living arrangements, new program, new people, and so many other 'new' things. It's scary, but it's also very exciting. I saw my new school's campus just a week ago, and to actually stand there, see it, and be able to imagine myself being there, was a bit reassuring. It takes some of the unknown out of the equation.
Perhaps the single biggest challenge of this situation is that I'm moving from the coziness of a very small school in a very small town, to a bigger school in a very big city. I've been living in the city for over a month now, and while it was uncomfortable for me at first, I've actually discovered quite a few things I love about being here. There is always so much going on! I can walk over to a few different ethnic districts, browse the unique stores there, pick up a new kind of tea to sample, or enjoy a special treat of a meal. There are countless performing arts events going on all around me - and lots of them are free (this is a huge plus for a student)! There is simply far more here to see, experience, engage in, and try out.
The icing on the cake for me was getting an interview date yesterday for a music-related job I've been dying to work in for close to a year now.
So, when it really comes down to it, as much as I miss the closeness and warmth of a small town, I really think I will enjoy big-city living for the next two years.
I hope all of you academic-types who are gearing up for, or in the middle of, some sort of big transition after the end of the previous school year are having success and looking forward to what's around the next bend. Cheers!
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Clandestine Reading
I have a confession to make: I am one of those people who peers over to read the books that the people next to me on the bus are reading.
I always try to be very discreet, but sometimes I know I've been found out when the owner of the book either angles it pointedly away from me to prevent my intrusion, or else spreads it open a little wider and turns it a little bit, to enable me to share the wealth of text even better. I know this habit might be terribly annoying or even creepy to some people, but, if I had a book and had the opportunity to share what I was enjoying with them, I'd be glad to do it!
You really can learn a lot of great things by sampling conveniently-located prose in this way, too. Sometimes, I catch segments of news articles on the back of people's newspapers, and am better equipped to discuss that particular current event or issue. Sometimes, it's a novel being read next to me, and I can grab a glimpse of a genre or writing style that I would never have otherwise been exposed to. Still other times, if I'm really lucky, it's a non-fiction book, and I can soak up new perspectives or knowledge on a topic I know comparatively little about.
Recently, I found myself sitting next to a woman who was reading from a collection of essays on education. As someone who is counting on teaching at some point in the future, I was especially eager to take in what I could.
This is also the point in this blog post at which I might lose a lot of you who don't particularly care about educational issues.
The particular essay I read most of was discussing the value of intrinsic motivation, as opposed to extrinsic motivation. The author explained a study that was conducted (I won't go into detail on it, because I'm sure I'd get a couple of facts wrong) that clearly showed that students who are invited, by a facilitating teacher, to learn because of their own natural curiousity, learn far more and far better than those who are told to learn the same material well for examination purposes. The point the author was trying to make is that our current emphasis and reliance on the testing system in schools is turning out rote learners, whose innate hunger for knowledge is killed.
I agreed with nearly everything the essay presented. In almost every learning situation, intrinsic motivation is of far more value than extrinsic motivation. But in my mind, that does not imply that we should scrap the test-based system we're accustomed to. Imagine for a minute that we did just that. Without the added motivation of grades and tests, one group of students - those who were actually motivated to learn on their own, and had interest in the subject - would likely learn more, and learn better. But the result on the other group of students - those with no motivation to learn, and no interest in the subject - would be disastrous; they'd have no reason to learn.
I don't have an answer. But I do feel that some fresh thinking would be beneficial for the educational system. I hope someone with more knowledge than I have of psychology and teaching methods can find some middle ground, and develop a great new system on it.
Next time you're reading on public transit, no matter what book it is, keep it open a little wider. You never know who might be reading, fascinated, over your arm!
I always try to be very discreet, but sometimes I know I've been found out when the owner of the book either angles it pointedly away from me to prevent my intrusion, or else spreads it open a little wider and turns it a little bit, to enable me to share the wealth of text even better. I know this habit might be terribly annoying or even creepy to some people, but, if I had a book and had the opportunity to share what I was enjoying with them, I'd be glad to do it!
You really can learn a lot of great things by sampling conveniently-located prose in this way, too. Sometimes, I catch segments of news articles on the back of people's newspapers, and am better equipped to discuss that particular current event or issue. Sometimes, it's a novel being read next to me, and I can grab a glimpse of a genre or writing style that I would never have otherwise been exposed to. Still other times, if I'm really lucky, it's a non-fiction book, and I can soak up new perspectives or knowledge on a topic I know comparatively little about.
Recently, I found myself sitting next to a woman who was reading from a collection of essays on education. As someone who is counting on teaching at some point in the future, I was especially eager to take in what I could.
This is also the point in this blog post at which I might lose a lot of you who don't particularly care about educational issues.
The particular essay I read most of was discussing the value of intrinsic motivation, as opposed to extrinsic motivation. The author explained a study that was conducted (I won't go into detail on it, because I'm sure I'd get a couple of facts wrong) that clearly showed that students who are invited, by a facilitating teacher, to learn because of their own natural curiousity, learn far more and far better than those who are told to learn the same material well for examination purposes. The point the author was trying to make is that our current emphasis and reliance on the testing system in schools is turning out rote learners, whose innate hunger for knowledge is killed.
I agreed with nearly everything the essay presented. In almost every learning situation, intrinsic motivation is of far more value than extrinsic motivation. But in my mind, that does not imply that we should scrap the test-based system we're accustomed to. Imagine for a minute that we did just that. Without the added motivation of grades and tests, one group of students - those who were actually motivated to learn on their own, and had interest in the subject - would likely learn more, and learn better. But the result on the other group of students - those with no motivation to learn, and no interest in the subject - would be disastrous; they'd have no reason to learn.
I don't have an answer. But I do feel that some fresh thinking would be beneficial for the educational system. I hope someone with more knowledge than I have of psychology and teaching methods can find some middle ground, and develop a great new system on it.
Next time you're reading on public transit, no matter what book it is, keep it open a little wider. You never know who might be reading, fascinated, over your arm!
Sunday, June 8, 2008
What can I say about Ukraine?
Ukraine, Ukraine... What can I possibly say about the trip that would successfully walk the line between trite and uninformative, and intolerably long?
It was challenging, eye-opening, thrilling, and most of all, life-changing. We spent nearly a month together as a choir, travelling all over the country, from the largest cities to the most remote villages, singing and interacting with the Ukrainian people in schools, churches, seminaries, and music colleges. We stayed in their homes, dove into their culture, learned their music, and saw the hearts of these amazing people. We raised money to partially fund a combined choir and orchestra seminar, and had a fantastic time making music together with the Ukrainian musicians. We could usually communicate only minimally at best, but there was still an instant connection there, despite language barriers and cultural differences. I left their country having had my eyes opened, and with several new perspectives and values. This has made returning, and trying to slide back into 'normal' life's usual grind, very difficult at times. I'm sure my experiences and memories will work their way into my writing (and certainly my day-to-day and even hour-to-hour thoughts) many times this summer, because they are so much a part of who I am now. I wish I could somehow impart all I saw, felt, and learned, to each of you reading this, because of the impact it has had on me! That being impossible, I'll do my best to share some stories from the trip on this blog, mixed in with the summer's events. (Yes, I can blog more regularly now that summer has arrived!)
Well, that paragraph does a fairly miserable job of capturing a snapshot of the month. It was all I could do to keep it brief, though, knowing I could carry on for far too long if I let myself! Pictures are of a Kiev street, the gorgeous church in Kiev where we held the seminar, and me, accompanying the choir at a performance at a large music college in Kirovograd, where we were honoured to share a concert with the college's fantastic choir.
It was challenging, eye-opening, thrilling, and most of all, life-changing. We spent nearly a month together as a choir, travelling all over the country, from the largest cities to the most remote villages, singing and interacting with the Ukrainian people in schools, churches, seminaries, and music colleges. We stayed in their homes, dove into their culture, learned their music, and saw the hearts of these amazing people. We raised money to partially fund a combined choir and orchestra seminar, and had a fantastic time making music together with the Ukrainian musicians. We could usually communicate only minimally at best, but there was still an instant connection there, despite language barriers and cultural differences. I left their country having had my eyes opened, and with several new perspectives and values. This has made returning, and trying to slide back into 'normal' life's usual grind, very difficult at times. I'm sure my experiences and memories will work their way into my writing (and certainly my day-to-day and even hour-to-hour thoughts) many times this summer, because they are so much a part of who I am now. I wish I could somehow impart all I saw, felt, and learned, to each of you reading this, because of the impact it has had on me! That being impossible, I'll do my best to share some stories from the trip on this blog, mixed in with the summer's events. (Yes, I can blog more regularly now that summer has arrived!)
Well, that paragraph does a fairly miserable job of capturing a snapshot of the month. It was all I could do to keep it brief, though, knowing I could carry on for far too long if I let myself! Pictures are of a Kiev street, the gorgeous church in Kiev where we held the seminar, and me, accompanying the choir at a performance at a large music college in Kirovograd, where we were honoured to share a concert with the college's fantastic choir.
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