Thursday, September 4, 2008

Is there a fall in Iraq?

I hate that September is when the season of Fall officially begins. I mean, what a tease. You begin to anticipate that cool weather, the smell of burning wood, the anticipation of sweaters and brisk mornings. I remember the first day of school always had a bite in the air that seemed appropriate for the new things starting. Now I'm starting to wonder if I imagined it all. If my memory filled in the blanks with what I wish September brought. I think I did. I'm pretty sure those yearly pictures of us going of to school the first day are filled with shorts. And shorts do not go well with brisk mornings. Maybe I'm getting sentimental for the chilliness of Indian summer because I am in the armpit of the world. I mean, I thought the heat of June and July was the worst it could get. And I was quite proud of myself for the graceful way I handled it...i.e. I didn't get angry at random things like I normally do when hot. Then August rolled around and I realized my ignorance of the past two months. August was a beast. It was even hot at 4:30 in the morning, a time that I previously cherished b/c it was so cool and pleasant.

So I've eagerly been anticipating September, hearing that things cool off right about now. And I don't know why I'm so surprised to find they haven't. They never do back home. My fake memories are just that, fake. September is just as miserable as August, but worse somehow, because you are so ready for fall. You've drug out all of your sweaters and cute closed-toed shoes, eager to rock the layers, only to discover the layers would cause a heat stroke if you were to actually attempt them. I think the heat is finally getting to me. I'm so irritated by it that I'm even imagining being back home in the states and getting irritated with it. I have multi-continental irritation with heat right now.

On that scholastic note, I just got Sarah's calculator in the mail, so I must begrudgingly begin my math preparations for the GRE. Horror. I hate to sound like a cliche, but seriously, most of the stuff I'm having to study for I will never use in my future life. In fact, if faced with a stupid analogy or algebraic problem, I will run in the opposite direction and sign up for the first garbage collecting job I can get. Seriously, none of the things I want to do truly involve the contents of the GRE. I understand the necessity of the LSAT, and the MCAT and even the one for engineering. But the GRE? I think Kaplan just found another way to make a buck off of desperate students. Or it's another government conspiracy to keep us distracted from the sheer ineptitude of the balance of powers.

Maybe I need a break...I'm finding conspiracies in everything. Time for a vacay.


Oh, and thank you so much Sarah. We have a lunch/ice cream date in our near future so I may show my utter gratitude. You are the best!

2 comments:

Jeanne, the mom and grandmom said...

I am beginning to think the GRE is simply to weed out people who really should not be attempting upper degrees. There are people like that out there. People who actually have bachelors degrees but are driving school busses or working at Wal-Mart because that is all their temperment, mentality, and emotional maturity allows them to do - in spite of their "higher education" credentials. If they did not have to take a GRE, they would be in universities right now clogging up the system and coming out even better educated store clerks. Educated idiots, if you will. Now you Beckie, on the other hand, Are someone who SHOULD pursue a masters degree because you will actually be able to do something with that degree. (since you are now using your psychology degree to analyze yourself in the month of September in the middle of the Iraqi desert - no, wait.... ahem) But - really, you ought to get a masters degree - if only to get yourself OUT of that desert in September!

Emily S. said...

I like the "multi-continental" anger at heat.

I can see myself feeling similarly in similar conditions.

As it is, though, MY day was 63 degrees. Nanny nanny boo boo.

Aw-- don't hit me.