Finding your Big-Girl Pants: Part 1½

We’re now two weeks into classes and three weeks since Orientation started. Incase my online absence is suspiciously pointing towards two weeks of socializing and making new friends, need I remind the world of my social skills? Silly, world. Since my last post, my very optimistic sounding post, I have come face-to-face with more big-girl things. And since I like lists, here we go:

1. Leaky tap. Fill out a work order form for the apartment superintendent and hope that it gets fixed while panicking at the idea that you have just given someone permission to enter your apartment at some point, even when you are not home. *Hides laundry loonies*
2. Orange Juice. Since the local farmer’s market has been stocked with a wonderful surplus of choice in vegetables, fruit, and baked goods, I have somehow managed to avoid stepping foot in a grocery store for three weeks. The market does not, however, have orange juice. The one substance I require to function the way plants need carbon dioxide. Or humans and oxygen. You know. So I put on my big-girl pants and rode the bus to the shopping centre where I happily strolled through Loblaws, really buttoning up those big-girl pants when I had to ask for a rain check on the out-of-stock-on-sale-orange-juice. That’s what happens when you go to the grocery store after noon, people. Lesson: Wake up and get your groceries early. 
3. Laundry. I may have ironed my shirt in my last blog post, but I never actually did the whole washing machine/dryer routine. When you leave laundry for 3 weeks, and try to fit the whole dark load into one load, things do not get washed properly. I mean, of course I knew enough to separate darks and lights, and of course I did not leave a red sock in my white a-la-Rachel-Green, but I thought water in washing machines just penetrates all the clothing and soaks everything. Well, if you have three weeks of clothing, and a small washer in the laundry room of your apartment, it doesn’t. So do not try to stuff the washing machine. Also, invest in those Tide tablet things so that you don’t have to measure laundry detergent. Life gets better with those laundry tablet things.
4. Learn how to small-talk. Okay, so I’m expecting there will be another post on this at some point this year. This past week, I attended a faculty wine and cheese event, and had to endure the dreaded small talk with colleagues aka classmates, and professors aka those who assign you a grade that defines your academic progression. What did I expect? Painful, awkward, staring at the ceiling.
   What did I encounter? Slightly less painful, slightly less awkward, and I couldn’t tell you what the ceiling looked like. I received some great advice on what to wear for “business casual” before attending: “If you would TA in it, you can wear it.” Since it was a wine and cheese, and I enjoy wine but cannot tolerate alcohol well, I was that person who casually sipped and warmed my chilled white wine in my hands, which is a nice way of saying I pretended to drink it, subtly made half of my glass magically disappear, filled the half with water, and sipped my diluted now-warm chardonnay with effortless (what a lie) grace.
   What’s the point of diluting the wine? Why didn’t I just drink a non-alcoholic drink?
   There is no difference; I call it personal preference. There is absolutely no problem or judgment I expected for preferring a non-alcoholic drink. I honestly do enjoy wine, so I had no problem asking for white wine. I like the feel of wine glasses because in that superficial way, I feel more comfortable and classy with a wine glass. It all has to do with holding the wine glass itself, and just having a drink (be it alcoholic or non-alcoholic) in general so your hands have something to do, and nothing to do with what’s in the glass. If you feel confident you will be more confident. Fact. (Not proven, but you know.)
   Let’s put it this way. I once attended an alumni talk from a very successful graduate who talked about networking and socializing. Her #1 piece of advice for events? Get a drink (again, any drink, water, wine, etc.) and hold it. It makes you 90% (I made that number up) less awkward than you would be without a drink. It gives you an excuse to politely leave a conversation and “refill” or join another conversation along the way to maximize you networking. And it keeps you hydrated, since you know, socializing requires talking, which requires hydration. And I also made that last point up based on my recent experiences.

So, all that rambling basically meant: I had to take care of maintaining my apartment, I had to go to a real grocery store and do my own laundry, which takes a lot more time when you let it accumulate. I had to socialize in a professional setting and put to use the lesson I learned about professional socializing, that is, get a drink and (it doesn’t matter if it’s alcoholic or non-alcoholic), and mingle. All of which is a lot easier said than done. Which are things I am still working on. But I tried, and that’s why this post is a ½ step in the “Big-Girl Pants.” Like half a step when you’re walking. Like the running man. No, nevermind, not the running man. Just mid step.

Finding Your Big-Girl Pants: Part 1

Orientation Week.

Affectionately and unofficially known as the best week of your undergraduate experience, “O-Week” is typically synonymous with summer camp for frosh. Well grad students, I have news for you. Graduate school orientation is less faculty-team-building, and more pub nights with the few others in your program. Now, as someone who does not drink beer this tends to be a tad awkward since it becomes more obvious and is a general topic of conversation revisited when everyone orders another round of drinks except you. Anyways.

Walking around campus to the constant cheering and never-ending energy remains an exciting way to relive the O-Week experience without actually reliving it. At the same time, it also makes you feel old, despite my direct transition from undergrad to graduate school making me only one year older than the average oldest undergraduate student. And, as you might expect, with feeling old in a new city comes the old-people activities. Like laundry. And ironing. And cooking… Things that you might have learned as an 18 year old student living in residence, or as a 19 year old student living off-campus. Nevertheless, here I am in my twenties and sending snapchats of myself ironing to my friends to validate the fact that I now have my big-girl pants on.

And while my inventive set-up of a kitchen counter with a bed sheet tucked into the cupboard a-la-makeshift-ironing-board is all kinds of luxurious laundry tools, I can’t even take credit for the idea (thanks Mom!). However, I started to realize today, there were so many ways I could approach this Orientation Week:

1. Ambitiously, I wrote down all the general graduate student activities into my planner, alongside the program-specific activities, including the times and locations. I could go to all of these activities, which would result in 5 hours of sleep per night and a burnt-out Felicia by Sunday night.
2. I could ignore all of the activities, sit in my apartment, and watch Friends like it’s still the summer it feels like outside (cue 30 degree weather. Celsius, incase anyone thought that was sarcasm).
3. Sweat on my bike and rush to roughly 50% of the activities – rushing, since I still have not completely mastered time management while biking, and biking, since walking is overrated. Spend the remaining 50% of my time learning how to hand-signal at stop signs and traffic lights properly so as to avoid as much tippage as possible while on a moving bicycle with a full backpack.
4. Repeat Option #3, but also use the remaining 50% to complete big-girl activities. Cue: Mom’s voice telling me to iron that one shirt with wrinkles that I know I’ll wear soon.

Clearly, based on my anecdote about make-shift ironing boards I chose #4, but you must know that I fully considered all four of those options. Dear Reader, I washed my floors, too. Housekeeping is a skill I fully enjoy at the moment, because I can fully, one hundred percent justify that it is important to establish good housekeeping habits before getting into the depths of an MA. Right? Maybe. But hey, feeling like a big girl, singing that Pull-Ups song, “Mommy, wow! I’m a big kid now!” while dancing with the wet-wipe Swiffer is a productive use of my time. Those five readings for the first class next week can wait. Besides, when it comes time to do them, I’ll already have my big-girl pants on. (I hope.)