You are tired. And loved.

I am closer to thirty than I ever have been in my life (I have a birthday tomorrow. Today depending on which timezone you look at?). I've become neither big nor small on birthdays. It is what it is. Sometimes they are full of wonderful bits, at others they disappoint and leave a bitter aftertaste. Just like people? Just like people. Also, just like life. Another year gone by, I check for the losses and scars, I say a quick thanks for all that went well, for all the scrapes that didn't end too badly, for the love and kindness and warmth and hug and hope that refuses to die.

Chicago

This was the week of a whirlwind trip to Chicago, a city where I have never been and got to spend far too little time. I had gone for a group interview for something I have applied for and it was a good experience. I was anxious, because I haven't really done a formal group interview, and wasn't sure what to expect. I went in telling myself that I would learn from the experience, as nerve-wracking as it may seem. It was funny, everyone's name tags had color codes on them, reflecting the degree programs they were in (MBA, Education) but my International Development got none. Sadface.

Weekend things or the one with lots of elevator spiels

This was an interesting weekend. I am taking a class on Gender and Public Policy, and it is one of the most interesting classes I have taken in grad school. On Saturday, I had the chance to attend the Elect Her training, organized by the UMN Women's Center in collaboration with American Association for University Women. It seems to be primarily targeted at undergraduates, to encourage women-identified people to run for student government and hopefully in the long run for political office. There were icebreakers, student panels, quick elevator pitches and issue based discussions. They had a quite a lot of resources spread across tables.

February!

The semester is in full swing. Travels (unexpected mostly) are coming up. Somewhere between the flurry of classes and assignments, I make it to a class or two of Pilates, and enjoy the slow pain of my body uncurling from its long lapse into laziness. The weekends are a time of pause and books surround me.

This is a recent poem I found:

'My shortest days end,

My lengthening days begin.

What matters more or less sun in the sky,

When all is sun within?'

Christina G Rossetti

Views of Downtown Minneapolis in the distance
from across the bridge

Finding Balance

This is definitely the semester where I am trying to find balance. I try and remember that it is the experience, and not only the end. Also, what good would a grad school degree be if I couldn't enjoy at least parts of it. I'm trying a combination of factors, tweaking and adjusting. The first week is never very indicative of what the rest of the semester will be like. Assignments aren't due yet nor have group projects started. This week (and weekend) have gotten away from me as there are two student-group related tasks on a Friday night and Sunday afternoon. But both are things I am involved with out of will and I am glad to do them (they help provide services for the graduate student body). I do still want to find balance (or equilibrium as the economists would say :)). 

Steady As She Goes

Views from the bus stop

The first week of the semester usually always feels like a blur, a slightly anxious, rushed blur. I am not jet-lagged but not above using it as an excuse for my general lostness. Beginnings of the semester make me feel a bit fraud-like, my brain wails who let me in here, even though I know I am capable of functioning and occasionally flourishing. I have not been taking advantage of any happy hours and that has opened up vast tracts of time for activities such as cooking and reading. Copious amounts of both have happened. Roasted eggplant, pulao, curries are in the fridge while three Agatha Christie novels have been devoured in the last two days.

Spring 2015

Chicago airport, with
the sunlight streaming in.

I'm back and what a trip it was. My travels were pretty smooth. I even got a complimentary check-in for my carry-on suitcase, which at 15 kgs was going to be quite a challenge to leg around a trip with two stopovers and plenty of hours of layover. TSA does seem to have taken out my bottle of castor oil, and my hair is really upset, because it has been denied its rightful nourishment (much needed in the wake of recent streaking). I am suspended in disbelief, between two countries, in shock at the fact that my last semester of grad school starts tomorrow. It wouldn't be life if this week wasn't super intense and there are two major things about which I am super nervous. Fingers crossed, all will go well. For the moment, I am warm, I have food, and I am excited about what this semester will bring. I hope you are well too.

Pigeons at the Ahmedabad airport

My jazzy luggage (because there is a
sea of black suitcases out there)