I have a committee chair for my thesis! Asking someone to be your committee chair is the academic version of asking someone to prom. During our meeting, he kept referring nonspecifically to my committee, saying things like "well, whoever is on your committee will need to do x thing". My heart pounded. Whoever? Why is he acting like I'm not going to ask him? Does he not want to be on my committee? Maybe he's trying to save me the embarrassment of asking him, because he knows he'll say no. Finally, I summoned the courage to ask him to be on my committee, and when he said yes, I swung for the bleachers and asked him to be my chair. I left his office feeling that way you do when you first fall in love and you're late to everything all the time. I stepped outside the journalism building and stood in one spot squeezing my eyelids shut, certain that the energy pulsing inside me would begin to press me down into the earth's crust.
My Thursday evening eventually found me on a broken couch, cuddling an affectionate dachshund mix named Li'l Bit, having been unexpectedly befriended by a Manic-pixie-dreamgirl type, a petite blonde force of nature who creates in strangers a desire to give things to her for free. It wasn't so bad really - listening to a CCR record on the wrong speed at some alien apartment while my new friend continued to conduct herself cinematically and seemingly without a shred of affectation. It's been a while since I had an evening left completely to its own devices; different faces, different houses, different bars, different streets. Things have been kind of Groundhog Day around here.
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