They have stolen the heart from inside you

I’ve been thinking about my mother a lot lately.

There are a few different reasons for that.

For one thing, I have now officially outlived her. She died when she was 59 years and thirteen days old. I passed that milestone (if that’s what you want to call it) on April 16th of this year. I spent a few months fretting because, deep down in the irrational part of me, I was afraid I wouldn’t and that was unacceptable to me because I still have things I want to do.

Another reason that she has come to mind is because she never did forgive me for dropping out of college (twice!) without earning any sort of degree. At the time, I told her that there wasn’t anything I wanted to do for which I needed a degree, and if I ever decided I wanted to do something that required a degree, I’d go get one. As matters evolved, that is precisely what I ended up doing.
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I’m alive!

Wow. It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?

The last time I told you anything was more than six months ago. I have a little catching up to do.

So, all things went well eventually and I now have a Master’s Degree in anthropology. All of that involvement in the department got me a thing called the Honigmann Graduate Prize in Sociocultural Anthropology, as well. It wouldn’t pay a month’s rent but it looks good on my CV.

I am doing a bit of toe-tapping right now as I wait for money that is coming to me to hit my bank account. Once that happens, I’ll be able to make arrangements for a trip to Spain to do a bit of preliminary research. This stuff will probably net me and conference presentation, a journal publication, and a post-doc project.

And I am now a third-year.
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