And now, the waiting...and the thinking /  by Bryan Trude

At least I don't have that constant knot in my gut like I've got to poop any more. 

On a Friday night in Media House, most of the freshmen are already gone, their finals finished, and I'm watching the Stars struggle against the Flyers with a few of my remaining floor mates, most of whom will be gone for the holiday by Monday morning. 

I'm honestly surprised at how many hockey fans live on this floor. 

As I settle in to wait for my own flight home Wednesday, I'm beginning to rue my miserly ways that lead to me waiting so long to fly back to Seattle. Not that it wasn't a stroke of luck, otherwise I might be tapping this on my phone waist deep in rainwater. The drawback, though, is that it leaves me a lot of time to think. 

Thoughts and I, you see, share a fickle and dangerous relationship. For example: 

Why do they put lights in Christmas trees? 

Think about it. Back in the days before electricity, they would have had to put candles in the trees. Even the introduction of electric tree lights didn't make the things less flammable. Who thought this up? How many trees did they burn down to do it? 

Who decided this was a good idea? 

Who came up with the idea of the single off-color wall? 

This is something even my parents do, painting three walls a standard color, then painting one wall a completely different color? It has this weird 70s vibe, and while it doesn't look bad persay, I am seeing it everywhere. 

I could go on and on about the random thoughts that cross my mind when I am left to sit and wait, but I have to consider that a potential employer may see this one day. So instead, I'll sit satisfied with a semester past, a job well done, and a family waiting in less than a week with my bed and my cat.

I miss my cat. 

No more teachers, no more books /  by Bryan Trude

Well, it could have gone worse.

Good thing things were so peaceful and serene walking back to my dorm. Photo Credit / Bryan Trude

With the first semester of graduate work in the books, all of my final exams complete, I'm still left biting my proverbial nails over the results of my Methods of Research test, easily the most difficult and brutal exam I've taken in my educational career, at least since I took a test on colors back in kindergarten.

Man, was that one a toughie. 

Now that that's done, just waiting impatiently at work for my final exam grade to be posted so we can see how barely I passed the class with a B (or a C, which means I would have to take it again...not an entertaining prospect.) Nevertheless, the two As and a B I got in my other classes assure that at least this semester was enough of a success that I don't need to go grovelling to the graduate college about staying...well, admitted. 

If anything, I'm more impatient waiting for the 16th so I can fly home to Seattle and do absolutely nothing for three weeks. 

When I got my acceptance letter from Oklahoma State, a letter I received via email as I was walking out of a theater in Kent after watching Ted 2, I was kind of on that egotistical high that carried me through undergrad work. A confidence that bordered on narcissism that I know exactly what I am doing, and it's so freakin' easy. 

My mental state going in to grad school

Mostly accurate

Grad school is not easy. It is humbling, and frightening, and will make you feel so worried about the slightest details that you constantly feel like you gotta go. Like, right now.

Even in my research class, a class where I got a B on every single thing I turned in, I'm sitting here worrying whether or not I have to take the class again. When I'm done, this will all be worth it, I'll have my Master's, and be ready to pursue my doctorate and hopefully begin my research in earnest. 

My mental state now

Also mostly accurate

Until then...I -so- wish Oklahoma was a legal weed state. I could use a good relaxant. At least I can go home next week, kick my feet up, enjoy the cold and spend some time with my cat. Next semester, looking at my course list, should be much easier. 

Unless I have to take that research methods class again. 

Never underestimate the power of free pancakes /  by Bryan Trude

Normally, I'd be in bed by now. Instead, at 10:30 pm, I'm standing in line with thousands of other students lured to the student union with the same promise that ensorcelled me. 

Free pancakes.

For the entirety of finals week, Oklahoma State offers free pancakes and drinks in the dead of night, and like cattle the undergrads and grads alike herd themselves in the cold dark, myself amongst them. 

Sam and Matt suffer right alongside. They seem more enthused, though. 

Isn't that how these things always go, though? Knee deep in the collective commercialistic orgy of the holiday season, the promise of free things drags the hordes in to the dark and cold, even for something as straightforward as pancakes. 

Wow, that sounds a lot more important than it actually is, doesn't it? 

There was nothing not epic about that line, though. 

I wonder if Cialdini had anything to say about herd mentality. 

Still, dragged from my dorm room for the promise of free pancakes, I'm kind of glad I did. As an undergrad, UCO did free midnight meals that got me addicted to sopapillas, but could free pancakes measure up?

Eh. 

The undergrads I went with think they're God's gift to breakfast, but I think a lot of that is because it was free. Especially at that age, free things tend to be just that much more, I guess. I wasn't thoroughly impressed, however. Maybe it's because I'm older, maybe it's because I'm a curmudgeon, but as a friend from undergrad once told me, "only  [I] could find fault with free food."

Definitely got what I paid for. 

Still, as much as I silently grump, I'm glad I came. Pancakes is one of those things I don't get in dorm life, if I ever have time for any kind of breakfast at all. It's cold and bland, but it's nice, even in the dead of night. 

I also got to see Sam mack on a Women's World Cup player and fail, so that was kind of funny. 

Late to the party /  by Bryan Trude

While sitting in a classroom during my undergrad days at Central Oklahoma, there was a common theme dictated to me, mostly in Dr. Terry Clark's classes which were often way too early in my day for me to stay awake in for the entire time. I still did really well in his courses, however.

That theme, however, was that one of the most important presences a journalist can have in the modern era is a web presence.

Now, a few years and about 60 miles north of there, I was sitting in one of my graduate courses and I thought to myself "You know, I should really get on that."

Look, I can meet any deadline set out for me, and produce content dripping with skill, quality, and refinement. I just tend to procrastinate if it involves me spending money, okay?

As I scrape my professional life together because my archive decided to go belly up back in April, more and more will become available here. Especially as I grow more and more experienced with Squarespace's capabilities and interface. It's not a bad deal, but the Squarespace editor doesn't like to play well with Chrome, so I'm doing all of my work in Edge. Lame.

Looking up at the top of this bar, you probably noticed a lack of...well, content. Well keep your undies on, Sally Sassypants. That will soon be populated with all sorts of content. Snippets from my professional portfolio, resume, curriculum vitae, and even information on my research as I pursue a Master's degree at Oklahoma State University and craft my thesis. As for this page here, I'll write whatever I want, whenever I want, simply because I feel like it, and I mean whatever I want. Be it profound, funny to others, funny to me, or just pictures of my cat back home in Seattle.

Kind of like this.

Kind of like this.

Because I can.