3.7.07

i went to my Chomsky seminar and was particularly involved in discussion today. i had a lot of thoughts running through my mind, and i kept trying to voice them to get the professor's feedback. i don't think i was being eloquent, or they didn't come off right. he said, "NO", and then went into a long monologue about his reasons for disagreeing with me. then i'd try to rephrase what i was trying to say, because i knew i had a point but didn't quite know how to put it using the terms of linguistics that he constantly utilizes. he just keps saying, "NO!" and eventually i got really frustrated. he asked if i wanted to try to rephrase my question again, and i just shook my head, and i could feel my eyes fill up and i had to bite my lip. it was obvious that i was on the verge of crying, and everyone in the seminar (that is, two professors, two grad students, two other undergrads and myself) sort of watched me, dumbfounded. the professor went on with his lecture and it became clear to me that i needed to leave the room, because tears were almost running down my face and yet i didn't want to start full-on crying in the middle of my seminar. i left my books on the table and left the conference room, heading to the girl's bathroom, where i sat in a stall and cried hard for about half an hour. the knees of my pant-legs were soaked from tears. i eventually left the bathroom, timing it so i'd get back to the classroom before it was locked in order to get my books back. the class was still in session, so i waited outside.

a grad student walked out and gave me a snide an condescending smirk as he walked by. one of the two professors walked out and gave me a kind of sympathetic yet awkward half-smile as he walked by, and then ducked his head to avoid conversation. finally, the main professor walked out, and immediately came up to me to apologize for "attacking me" and asked if i was okay. i started crying again the moment he expressed concern. i assured him that it wasn't at all his fault, and that he'd not been harsh at all, and that i was just stressed out and tired and, more than anything, frustrated that i couldn't express myself at the level that i'd like to have been able to pull off. i told him that i hated half-assing things, and that i felt it was all i'd been able to do lately, because of the weight of my school load.

i think he saw that i needed to talk to somone about it, because he told me to come with him to his office, and he sat and just talked to me for a while, giving me kleenex and giving me chocolate and saying everything he could in order to make me feel better. he told me that he treats his students like his colleagues, and that people sometimes don't understand this, but that he talks to them the same as he would someone with an equal level of competency in the field of linguistics as himself; or someone with an equal amount of experience reading Chomsky and discussing it and familarizing the self with his terminology and technical modes of description. he told me that he had felt the way i was feeling right then, and when i said i thought i'd stopped having those moments after highschool, he told me that he'd never really completely stopped feeling that way once in a while, and that it's just something that happens sometimes, to everyone. he said he knew exactly what i was feeling, all too well, and to an equal degree. he also said something that i really appreciated: he told me to never change how hard i am on myself, because he said that that kind of drive and high-standard cannot be taught, and that it's something that, if innate, can cause one to strive to succeed and work hard and always aim to do better. he said to always hold on to it, but to also give myself some slack once in a while. he told me he'd actually really liked my questions, and could tell that i had a solid grasp of the material. he told me not to worry too much about my career, and to take the future as it comes. he also reassured me that what i study in college isn't necessarily what i have to end up studying, and that i should take philosophy classes if i want to because i find them interesting, regardless of how practical they may be. he said, "when in your life are you going to have another chance to study philosophy? you're only in college once." he also told me he'd missed me the two days of class when i'd been sick and that he really liked my presence in the class. he also said, "do you know how many Chomsky classes i had to sit through, too terrified to make any comments at all? i'm asking a lot of you guys and i'm throwing you guys into something that you have no experience with", or something to that effect.

he handed me some kleenex, patted me on the back, said "you're okay", and told me not to feel sorry or embarrassed. he was seriously the nicest guy i've talked to in months. i hadn't even realized that i was stressed to the point of crying until i started actually crying, but i'm glad i was able to let all of that out rather than dwell on it. and i'm glad i had someone to talk to about it: someone whom i actually look up to and really respect.

i went to naomi's, where she was working on bandit masks for her party tomorrow. then i looked at some old bike frames that avi had left there. evan said i could pick one out to keep, so i called my dad and described the brands and styles to him to find out which was better. he told me to photograph them on my phone and send him the files. i did so, and he called me back, saying that they both looked decent and that it was hard to tell over the phone. he told me to take both of them if i could. so i did, and they're sitting on my porch now. he's going to fix one of them up with a fixed-gear road-bike setup sometime soon, so that i can have a road bike to take around campus. i'm excited about it.

ate at noodle city with dan, and just got home. perhaps i'll go to delta tonight to wind down a bit before getting some work done.