The Search

I've visited two schools so far: George Mason U, and University of Del.

At both places I initially met someone with an odd name: Tal at GMU, an older British fellow; and Gaby (pron. Gobby) at UD. Could also have been Tel, I have no idea. He showed me and another prospective student around campus, used his wry British wit to describe various buildings and facilities, talked about opera, and told us who George Mason was. I forget who he was.

Gaby (pron. Gobby) is interested in something something and "microparameters," which are interesting but let's not get into it. She showed me Dr. Heinz, a cool dude, and Dr. Bruening, who I did not like, though he was the only syntax guy there. Everyone, by the way, looked very different from their photos on the department's web site. Did I look at these photos to see if there were any hot grad students? Yes I did. That worked out nicely - it was the professors whose photos were deceitful.

In his photo, Bruening looks tall and handsome, up close he looks small and nervous. Heinz's photo portrays a short, plump, nerd, and in person he is tall and attractive, self-assured. Gobby looked a bit more shriveled and old than her photo, but she had on the same huge glasses.

The girl that showed me the child language labs was short and pretty, with bewilderingly giant brown eyes. I decided not to put the moves on her in the creepy "habituation" lab after she mentioned her "boyfriend." Oh! you coquettish developmental linguist.

Let's not forget my pizza party with the grad students! No, let's forget it.

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Some lessons. It's awkward visiting these places. People seem to think it very unusual and I can see in their eyes they suspect something. Why? Why can't a guy visit a school?

Also, when you tell a person you're interested in syntax* (a perfectly reasonable thing to be interested in, as a linguist) - EVEN IF YOU'RE TELLING SOMEONE WHO DOES SYNTAX - they look at you like you're a fucking Martian. I'm pretty sure the study of syntax is the only reason linguistics is still relevant. If people could keep making up whatever they wanted about the structure of language, as they did before the 1950's, the field would be so wide open as to be quite desolate. Creativity flourishes under constraints - a lesson, in fact, from syntax.

It's a shame I didn't get to go over that sort of thing at University of Delaware, since I'm actually kind of excited about their program.

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Bruening, being short and nervous - and rather young - tried to assail me with his intellect. Smart guy, but an asshole.

Heinz is a phonologist (pronounced funologist - he studies fun ... and speech sounds). As is the case with other phonologists I've met, he's a genius. He was much more agreeable.

(Chomsky, more or less, started out as a phonologist. Well, first as an anarchist.)

Gaby (pron. Gobby) discouraged me from applying - indirectly - as the department receives very little funding, and, as she told me, "there are very few syntax jobs." NO SHIT GOBBY, although I get plenty of time to think about grammar while I'm washing dishes.

Well at least she was honest. I still haven't heard back from my alma mater.

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* Sorry for the jargon, syntax = grammar, basically.

The World

Guess what, World. You left me for dead back there, but a latent will to live spurred me on, and it looks like I'm not going to have to commit hari kari just yet. I am referring, of course, to the Plan:

Phase One: Called and e-mailed every grad school within 200 miles (well, that has a linguistics program). Naturally, the ones that were most receptive to me are the furthest away: George Mason, UVA, and U of Delaware. "Delaware???" you gasp? Pretty good program from the looks of things. I suppose this part of the plan is just going to have to be a process, as there's still plenty of bullshit ahead. But I'm going to just very lightly in parentheses jot down "(success)" next to Phase One.

Phase Two: Looks like I'm washing dishes. $9/hr. Nice fellow hired me, no application. Now we'll just see about keeping the job, but I think we're on the right track here.

Contingency? Nope! I'm sober as a goose, my chemicals seem to be balanced, and I might even start being nice to people. It's fucked up!!

Chronicle of My Failures: The Big Day

Tomorrow is the big day. I have promised to fail as a member of society, and even made a plan to do so, but I can't fail if I don't try. So tomorrow I'm getting up early and initiating the Plan. Usually when I'm determined to do this, I end up sleeping all day. Let's see what happens!

First, call the grad schools. Success here is the most desirable outcome, that's why it's first. I went to UMD, graduated, and feel like they at least owe me an apology for not telling me I should've applied to grad schools then, or at least warned me that "linguistics jobs" don't exist. So they get the first phone call and possibly several e-mails. I'm going to have to wave a wand to make a writing sample appear, I won't be getting any recommendations, and I'm definitely not taking the GREs. It's going to be hard to convey these things to these serious people, but I have a good feeling about it.

There are several other area schools I'll be contacting. At the bottom of the list is Gallaudet, the oldest liberal arts institution for deaf people. It's at the bottom of the list, not because I'm "audist," but because I don't know sign language so I'm not sure if this is a reasonable option. But I wrote some articles long ago that some of the students seemed to like, so maybe I'm in.

After this slog through phone calls and e-mails and disappointments of varying intensity, I'll try and find a job. I have four candidates from the want ads:

1. Server / dishwasher
2. Cashier
3. Bank teller (P/T)
4. Secretary

Cool, they don't require resumes and I can just charm them over the phone with my euphonious voice, hurtling the application process and landing myself square in front of a cash register / sink / etc. They won't know what hit them!

The Plan

In my first post, if you care, it seems I promised a more biographical element to my Blog. I've been avoiding that, perhaps. But now it's down to it - I've run out of work, and reading mystery novels doesn't seem to produce a paycheck. So, on Monday, I'm gonna put on my good shoes and thrust myself into society. The plan is twofold.

One: call grad schools. Beg them to take me. I have a full-on degree, I should be able to get into a fucking graduate program. Arsenii tells me in Belarus they call your college degree your "life boat." Well, I've been saying I don't have one on job applications - it seems to be more like cement boots. But my understanding is that advanced programs actually want you to have a Bachelor's before applying. So, can't lose?

Two: job. Shit job. Anything. Except I don't have any references, I have a terrible work history, and I refuse to fill out an application or write a resume. I don't hold out a lot of hope for this phase of the plan.

Contingency: savings. I have these. I am going to spend them on booze until they run out then I'm going to jump off of something very tall.

I'm happy to take bets on the Plan or its separate components.

Craigslist

Best-of-craigslist is really good right now. It's my goal to end up on there one day. Or in the missed connections, which I read diligently. Also, casual encounters is fascinating. (What is a "foot slave"?!?!) It's worth it, read this shit.

Sometimes I go on there and read the jokes and haikus, too. But mostly I am on craigslist looking for a fucking job because I am going to die if I don't get one.