La Plus ca Change...

Lurking somewhere not so deep in the recesses of my mind is a five year old, and she's annoying. I am currently preparing to meet with fellow grad students at my new University, and I should be thinking about all the exciting new stuff I want to learn and teach, and how I'll be meeting people who may prove to have thoroughly pickable brains, and what sort of advocacy groups I might want to get involved with since this city doesn't have the same groups I've joined before. Instead, most of my worrying has centered around the questions that used to plague me as a child whenever my family moved; will they like me? will I have anybody to sit with at lunch? will my new teachers be as nice as my old ones? (This last is partially amended in the case of two ex-professors, whose soul-sucking attitudes and behavior I hope never to encounter again. I say 'partially' because spite was a wonderful motivator for me in response to those two knuckleheads. "There's no way those miserable bastards will put a red mark on MY paper" leads to pretty damned good work sometimes. Still, doing my best work in the company of instructors who emphasize the *enriching* half of the humbling and enriching experience of education is preferred. ) So now, just as then, I feel myself putting on the cloak of insouciance as the meeting time becomes closer, hoping that I can trade it in for a more comfortable garment soon.