Remember...

Remember in elementary school, and then in high school.... in math class, specifically. Remember when they would teach you all these rules for solving equations. There were theories and methods and new symbols and all sorts of reasoning and rationale behind it. Sometimes you got really, really good at sorting the equation and teasing out the answer. Perhaps it was even the right answer. And you finally felt okay with what you were learning, more or less.

And then they started throwing word problems at you?

Remember how crazy stressful that was?

Because it wasn't all laid out for you, but you had to go through and figure out which bits of information in the problem were important and which were superfluous. Not only did you have to know how to solve the problem, you had to know how to set it up. You had to know which formulas were going to help and which were just no use at all. And if one formula didn't work, you had to be brave enough to move on and try the next instead of throwing your hands up in despair.

Remember?

Well, that's pretty much what my internship is like.

I've spent the last two years learning theories, and explanations, and rules, and rationales. I've memorized charts and tables and lists and names and phonemes. I've written a report, watched an assessment, conferred and collaborated with classmates, picked through my professors' brains for every scrap of information I thought I would need. I did the homework, passed the tests, wrote the papers, and learned the material.

But the minute a child sits down in front of me, I have no idea what to say. My mind is working frantically, trying to remember the techniques and word lists and activities that came so easily to mind when I was sitting safely in a classroom, backed and supported by friends and teachers. Sometimes I come up with something passable, other times I just sit there blankly and look at my supervisor for a cue, and the rest of the time I make something up and hope I get it right (and that's pretty evenly split either way).

All that is just plain exhausting. It's headache inducing and sleep stealing.

And yet, I still want to be a speech therapist. More than anything.


I think we can officially label me as crazy.
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Growing Up

Growing Up isn't comfortable. When you're a kid, you think that grown-ups have all the answers. They know everything, they know how to do everything, and if they don't know, they know right where to go to get the answers. It's almost as if there's a class you take that teaches you how to successfully navigate life.

And then when you reach about nineteen or twenty, you suddenly realize that there is no class. All adults are faking it. Some do a remarkable job, some are barely keeping up the performance, but we're all pretending. I'm twenty-four now, and I thought I'd have a better idea of how life works by now. Na-uh.

Don't get me wrong. Parts of growing up are fun. You create yourself, and if you do it right, you find that you can be a lot of fun to be around, most of the time. Of course, there's always room for improvement. You can find the most amazing friends who will be by your side whenever you need them, friends who do more than inflate your ego. Independence is fair equal parts scary and exciting. And finding which profession will spark passion inside of you is exhilarating! (Speech Therapy for me, if you didn't know. ^.- )

But you also have to leave parts of yourself behind. With independence comes responsibility, and responsibility is a long word that basically means you no longer get to do whatever you want, whenever you want. Which is pretty much the opposite of what kids think growing up is all about. The smart adults maintain as much of their childhood as they can, which includes doing things that seem pretty silly, such as playing Laser Tag. But there are things you just can't do anymore, because impressions really are important.

This whole post is my way of saying how annoyed I am that I can no longer leave funny messages on my cell phone voice mail. My alter ego can no longer take a message. I can't say the whole thing backwards. I can't say "If you were calling for Bethany, you've reached someone else. If you were calling for someone else, you've reached Bethany. Leave a message and someone will call you back." I can't talk about being dead, unless the caller will deliver donuts stat. I can't do any of these things, because people in my profession now have my number, and I will be giving prospective employers my number, as well. I don't mind them knowing that I retain a bit of whimsy, but they need to know I'm professional, as well.

And that means recording a boring message.

When I finally get settled somewhere, I am getting a land line, and then I will give my professional contacts THAT number, and they can listen to a succinct, boring message there. Then I will reclaim my cell phone for my own personal amusement.
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So... I have been guilted by my family into reviving this thing. I have learned that my cousins Jarron and Preston keep and regularly update their blogs, and that my cousin Laura routinely checks this blog, waiting for me to get my act together. Hope springs eternal, right? ;o)

Anyway, quite a bit has transpired since my last post.... forever ago. For instance, our Hafaduplex actually has furniture in it now, including my bed, my desk, and a set of table and chairs. It looks more like a home than an empty shell.

I have also graduated from Sacramento State with a Bachelor of Science in Speech Pathology and Audiology. What are my plans now, you may ask? I start the Master's Program at, can you guess?, Sacramento State in the Fall. Why? Because I just can't get enough school. You build up enough momentum and after a while the brakes just stop working. :o)

I am currently enjoying the company of my whole family on my father's side: Grandmama, Uncle Carl and family, Uncle Loren and family, and my entire family. This is the first time we've ALL been together since.... well, it's been a very long time. Of course, even now, I'm not really sure we're altogether..... :o) Why are they here, you might ask? Good question. Next question.

Kidding. As you know, I graduated. Not only did I graduate, but so did my younger brother, Nathaniel. He is officially done with high school, and we've all breathed a sigh of relief. Then we all laughed heartily at his graduation speech. It was very funny.

So, not only did I graduate, and not only has Nathaniel graduated, but Stan will graduate from his nursing program in August. It's just the year for graduations in the Brown household.

What am I doing now? Monday morning I will start an internship, the first few hours of eighty that I need to accumulate over the next four weeks. This internship is the practicum part of the summer course I am taking to become certified as a Speech Language Pathologist's Assistant. Really, I'm doing it just for kicks and experience, because I don't think I'll ever actually work as a SLPA. But it's good information to have and know. Get me ready for the Master's program, et cetera.

I think this post has fulfilled my obligation. Bethany's Blog has risen from the dead. Warn your friends and neighbors. :o)

Hope to be writing you soon...

~Bethany B
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