Fiction from Debbie Graber

Photo: Liam Briese

My Thesis

Hypothesis: Googling “Online Master’s degree programs in Psychology” can have life-changing consequences.

Preface: I’ve almost completed my Master’s degree in Psychology. This program has definitely been “super challenging.” (citation: Guam Online University YouTube infomercial).

Re: 2nd Hypothesis: I’m not sure what my thesis topic is exactly. But I have to turn in something, because finishing a thesis is mandatory in order to graduate.

“In answer to your question, Ms. Lowenstein—no, a candidate cannot receive a Master’s degree in Psychology without a properly vetted and filed thesis.” (citation: Email, Dr. Daniel Reggebrugge, thesis advisor).

I emailed Dr. Reggebrugge months ago that I was thinking about writing my thesis about love. He wrote back “LOL,” and it was not in a collegial way. He said love was “way too general” a topic and that I should narrow my focus to something I “could actually accomplish.” (citation: Email, Dr. Reggebrugge).

Additional Introduction: Love is the one thing that universally fascinates, regardless of race, religion, ethnicity, gender, gender preference, or whether one’s advisor deems it a worthy subject.

From my extensive clinical research, which includes supervised mock client therapy sessions (and unsupervised real sessions conducted at Starbucks), plus my own personal experiences as a human, I’ve formed a lot of ideas about love: I posit that love originates from the heart, not from the brain. Despite contradictory biological research that describes love as a relationship between emotions and neurotransmitters (or some other science type word?), I remain steadfast in my assessment. Others may disagree (citation: Attached emails from Dr. Reggebrugge).

Thesis Statement: Love is…hard to quantify?

PS: I believe theses are meant to foster honest debate with disagreers. I’m trying my best to debate honestly, but my thesis advisor/main disagreer is now resorting to unfriendly texts and certified letters to make his point.

“Your ‘thesis’ reads like the longwinded rant of an adolescent.” (citation: Dr. Reggebrugge text).

Really? That’s the best you got?

I. Disagreers are quick to shoot down out-of-the-box ideas. They refuse to admit that alternative concepts have merit, and are generally insufferable and mansplaining.

II. “Your paper needs to be based on fact, not fantasy.” (citation: Thesis check-in meeting with Dr. Reggebrugge).

III. When it comes to love, disagreers do not add anything new to the global conversation. It’s a big globe out there and disagreers don’t get that. Some disagreers wish to remain in their academic ivory tower with a frayed copy of Wuthering Heights and a thermos of bean and bacon soup to serve as their only context of the globe around them. (citation: Attached watercolor I painted of Dr. Reggebrugge as I imagine him in said ivory tower with said soup. Maybe I should have gone to art school instead.)

IV. This thesis will not contain:
a. Spreadsheets
b. Graphs
c. Scientific Methodology
d. Tediousness

These things might be important if you want to impress a bunch of disagreers, but they don’t fly in today’s marketplace. My “boots on the ground” research reveals that data alone doesn’t engage: People are too busy online shopping or “binge watching ‘Tiger King.’” (citation: “Alan,” client #3, Starbucks session).

I am willing to appear “ill-suited for a degree of any sort,” (citation: Email, Dr. Reggebrugge), if my personal experience will shed some light on the elusive nature of love.

V. Despite the odds, I have faith that Dr. Reggebrugge will ultimately approve this thesis so that I can start my training hours and pay off my student loans.

VI. This thesis will contain:
a. Personal anecdotes.

i. Trigger warning: Some of these anecdotes may gross more sensitive people out. Please use caution when reading.
ii. If this thesis turns out as well as I think it will, Brad Pitt’s production company might decide to option it and turn it into a high grossing feature that wins an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay.
iii. How many Master’s theses in Psychology ever created a media conglomerate bidding war that makes the front page of Variety? None. Until this one!

VII. What do we love? I could start quoting here from Plato’s Symposium, but that falls under tediousness, so I’m skipping it.

VIII. We all love pretty much the same stuff. Example: We all most likely love our parents, even though they are jerks. Many of us are able to get over parental rejection eventually after years of therapy and listening to a bunch of TED talks. We don’t let that kind of fissure in our souls get in the way of a sincere, last-ditch attempt at finishing a Master’s degree. Hell no!
a. “If you borrowed money from a bank, they wouldn’t forgive your debt because you were busy trying to ‘find yourself’ doing God knows what.” (citation: Argument with my mother).
b. My mother scrunched up her face, all irritated-like when I told her to stay out of my gummy stash. Her excuse? “I ran out of Coffee Nips.” (citation: Same argument with my mother).
PS: Those gummies really help with my sensory processing disorder, and they aren’t cheap.
c. Why do old people love hard candy?
d. My parents were horrified when I had to move back in with them due to financial hardship. (citation: Current student loan balance of $78,050.64).
You think I was overjoyed?

VIIII. 3rd Hypothesis: Every Beatles song ever written is about love. My sister Anne went through a Beatles phase back in the eighties when we were kids. She listened to the Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band album on our turntable about twenty times a day for a year, so we all listened to it about twenty times a day for a year. Headphones weren’t invented yet, at least not in our house.

X. More things this thesis will not contain:

1. A history of the Beatles, although that would be fascinating. I would maybe discuss pursuing this new topic with Dr. Reggebrugge, but he’s blocking my texts.
2. Firsthand interviews with the Beatles.
I tweeted at Paul McCartney to see if he’d let me interview him for this thesis, but that’s as far as it got. All the interesting Beatles are dead anyway.
3. My sister Anne is not dead, but she won’t speak to me. “I won’t engage with an insane person.” (citation: text, Anne Lowenstein).
4. Sometimes I pretend Anne is dead so that I don’t feel sad.
4A: Don’t get me wrong, it is sad to believe that Anne is dead, but it’s not the same kind of sadness I feel when I run into her at Costco and she looks right through me, as though I were a stranger.
4B: Yes, it’s awkward on the few times a year that I have to see Anne at family functions, but I have been able to convince myself that the woman at Thanksgiving dinner is not actually Anne, but Anne’s clone.

Wait; hold up—Anne has a clone?

Here’s the story I came up with:

a. Anne purchased a cloning machine from a mysterious doctor with a monocle that she met while waiting on line for an oil change.
b. Mysterious Dr. X was leaving the country that very evening, never to return, and sold Anne the cloning machine for twenty-five dollars.
c. Anne has poor impulse control and immediately cloned herself in the Jiffy Lube bathroom.
d. Shortly thereafter, in a freak accident, the real Anne was crushed underneath her own car as it rolled off the car elevator at Jiffy Lube. Clone Anne found real Anne’s purse on the ground, paid for the service and drove off in Anne’s Land Rover while real Anne was stuck under the car. This is why no one, except for Clone Anne, ever knew Real Anne was dead. Although Dr. X might have known, because he can read minds.
e. I try not to delve too much into the details because it makes my head hurt.
f. Wouldn’t a cloning machine be huge? How did Anne drag it into the ladies room without anyone noticing? And why was Dr. X getting an oil change if he was leaving the country?

5: Back to love: Most people love hearing news about old friends. I recently read an interview in the New York Times about my former boyfriend from high school. (citation: “A Latte with Josh McDougal – A Funny Guy Gets Serious,” New York Times). I have written dozens of essays, epic poems, and a full-length screenplay (citation: “Puppies vs. Tyrannosaurus Rex Babies,” WGA registry.) I slaved over these projects for years, but none of them ever found publication anywhere.
5A: I love getting rejection letters, especially this one: “This essay is incoherent. Consider taking a writing class before you submit anything else anywhere.” (citation: Rejection email, McSweeneys). I love constructive criticism!
5B: Josh McDougal, my former boyfriend, is a Hollywood writer/director/producer. It’s not all that surprising because he was a snarky, immature tool in high school. I guess that’s all it takes to become a success in Hollywood. I wouldn’t even want to be in the same room with him, but what do I know about success? I’ve never seen a Josh McDougal movie, but I’ll bet they are two hours of snarky, jerky, immature fun. I bet they are the kind of movies that encourage the global marketplace to stuff more popcorn into their faces.
6: Everyone loves popcorn, unless you’re one of the 2% of people worldwide who is allergic. (citation: WebMD). Popcorn makes me blow up like a tick!
5C: Josh is supposedly happily married to Jennifer Gottlieb, his high school sweetheart. I would hardly call Josh and Jennifer high school sweethearts. I got a good chuckle out of that one. Jennifer played Adelaide in Guys and Dolls, among other starring roles in our high school musicals. She also made news our senior year when she and Josh were caught sixty-nining in the natatorium showers during a swim meet.
7: I love it when the New York Times cowtows to a jerky Hollywood type by not fact checking the statement that his “high school sweetheart” was really his “fuckbuddy.”
5D: Jennifer Gottlieb wasn’t the best singer, but she had a generally obnoxious manner that some mistook for vivaciousness. This made her a natural choice for the part of Maria in The Sound of Music.
5E. I’m being sarcastic here.
5F. I studied voice at Harand Performing Arts Camp in Wisconsin for twelve summers, and was awarded “Most Improved Tone” my last summer there. I also was chosen to sing the “Lullaby of Birdland” solo that summer for our big concert, but was sidelined due to cramps.
5G. Everyone who saw my high school Sound of Music audition said that I should have gotten the lead, instead of the part of non-singing Nun #4. Dr. Lamble, our choir director, told me that he preferred Jennifer’s “charisma” to my “stiff competency.”
5H. I love getting that kind of feedback! As a confused teen desperate for approval, it made quite an impression.
5I. Sadly, Dr. Lamble is no longer with us, but his untimely demise from a brain aneurism has allowed me some well-deserved closure. (citation: “Passing of Beloved Choir Director,” Glenview Announcements).
4g. Maybe Dr. X’s cloning machine is small, like a garage door opener. You push the button and bam! You’ve been cloned!
8: There was so much more to love in that Josh McDougal interview: I loved reading that Jennifer and Josh live in a beautiful Spanish-style home that appraises between 9.1-9.7 million. (citation: Realtor.com). I loved finding out that they have two adorable children who are being raised to be bilingual by two nannies, one from Kyrgyzstan and one from Guatemala. I loved reading that they employ several personal assistants who used to be child soldiers in Sierra Leone. (citation: “Funny Guy Gets Serious,” blah blah blah). Hearing about the success of others makes me want to try even harder to succeed, even though I’m pretty sure that it is not humanly possible to try any harder than I already have.
8A. When a prestigious online academic institution sends you a certified letter, suggesting that you consider withdrawing from their Psychology program due to their “growing concern about your mental state,” (citation: Letter from Guam Online University ombudswoman), success can sure feel out of reach.
9: One afternoon before becoming famous, Josh McDougal found himself sitting next to Martin Scorsese on the 7 train to Flushing, Queens. Josh handed Mr. Scorsese his first screenplay, which he had the foresight to carry around with him at all times. Scorsese read it, loved it and subsequently produced the movie—the rest is history. (citation: NYT puff piece)
9A: I’ve ridden the subway hundreds of times, and rarely sat next to someone clean, let alone someone famous.
10. I love it when famous film directors inexplicably ride public transportation (to Flushing, no less!) and then offer up billion dollar chances to snarky jerks that don’t deserve it. Talk about good luck.
10A: A discussion of luck: Even though I am a graduate student of this academic institution, at least I think I still am, I did not get here due to luck—no, far from it. While still employed in the corporate sector, I was rejected three times from other programs before finally getting accepted. (citation: “Accreditation in USA finally for Guam Online University,” Pacific News).
11: I love trying really hard to attain a goal and getting knocked down a bunch of times along the way due to, among other things, cramps and a sensory processing disorder.
11A: Gummies help with both of these issues.
12: I love how psychic pain inspires courage. I love being at an extremely low point mentally, physically and spiritually.
12A. I love having to dig deep to find new reasons to get out of bed in the morning. Now that kind of torment inspires real creative thinking.
12B: I’m kidding, who would actually love all that?

4th Hypothesis: I just thought of this—love and hate are inextricably linked—one is the opposite of the other, but often they can often feel in the body like the same thing.

13: Personal anecdote #1: I can love the way I feel after six beers and three cigarettes shared with co-workers at Happy Hour, but then I hate the way I feel four hours later when I am lying in bed, trying to quiet the caravan that has set up camp in my intestines. I also hate remembering that I may have drunkenly insulted my boss by calling her a “micromanaging lush.”
13A: Personal anecdote #2: I hate that my now ex-boss informed me that my services were no longer needed. I loved the freedom I experienced as the security guards escorted me from the building, but hated the fact that I would no longer receive a paycheck and health benefits.
13B: Personal anecdote #3: I hate that I had to move in with my parents since I lost my job. I hate that my parents are forcing me to complete my Master’s degree or “deal with the consequences.” (citation: Intervention with Mom, Dad and Anne’s Clone.)
13C: Personal anecdote #4: I hate that my mother started attending Al-Anon meetings in order to learn how not to enable me.
13D: Personal anecdote #5: I hate that I now sleep in the same bedroom I slept in as a kid. It’s even got the same bedspread from 1985 because my parents refuse to buy a new Bed in a Bag set from Target. Every night as I drift off to sleep in my old twin bed, I am surrounded by my childhood things—the flamenco dancer doll my grandparents brought back from a trip to Puerto Vallarta, the jewelry box with a ballerina inside pirouetting en pointe—and I feel as though I am still ten years old, despite my mightiest efforts to grow up.
13E: Personal anecdote #6: I hate that I no longer have a lifetime of mistakes to make. That I no longer have the world spread out before me, like a buffet to be gorged upon. I hate that I have spent years dithering about what to eat for dinner and what to wear to work when what I should have been doing is asking myself, “What do I love? What is my passion? What am I going to do with my life before it’s too late?”
13F: Personal anecdote #7: I hate that my parents are aging and that sometime in the not-so-distant future, they will die and Anne’s Clone and I will be orphans.
13G: Personal anecdote #8: I hate that one day, I too will also die, and what will have been the point? What will I be able to count among my accomplishments?

Accomplishments:
1. Almost finishing a Master’s degree in Psychology.
2. Blowing Josh McDougal in our high school parking lot.
3. Stealing Anne’s Sgt. Pepper’s album, her Neil Diamond posters and various mixtapes out of her dresser and burying them in the backyard.

13H: What do I know about love? Can I honestly say that Josh McDougal was my high school sweetheart? Does one blowjob in the parking lot count? If not, why not?
14. “All you need is love, buh buh buh buh buh, all you need is love, everybody, all you need is love, love…love is all you need.” (citation: Everyone knows that song.)

—§—

1. You are never going to believe this.

2. I’m starting over with the numbering because this thesis is going in a bold new direction.

Exhibit 2A: transcript of a phone call between me and Yasmin Sakharan, Human Resources, Guam Online University:
JL: (that’s me) Hello?
YS: Is this Jacqueline Lowenstein?
Me: Yes, this is Jacki. I go by Jacki. Who is this? How did you get this number?
(I’ll skip to the good part):
YS: I am calling to notify you that Dr. Reggebrugge has been let go from GOU.
JL: Dr. Reggebrugge got fired?
YS: His contract was terminated, effective immediately.
JL: No freaking way! What happened?
YS: I’m afraid I can’t go into the details. Suffice it to say that his academic practices and behaviors were not in keeping with GOU standards.
JL: Some other students besides me must have complained! He wasn’t vey nice, if you must know. But I guess you do know because I emailed HR about him like ten times. Plus, he’s been fired, so the cat’s really out of the bag now!
YS: (long pause) I’ve been tasked with calling Dr. Reggebrugge’s advisees to let them know what’s going on.
JL: So who’s going to advise me?
YS: We’re in the process of figuring that out, but it may take a while. GOU has been short Psychology professors for quite some time, and this unexpected development pushes the future of the department into further question. Our existing professors just don’t have the bandwidth, and so we’re taking the unprecedented step of allowing all matriculating Psychology students to file his/her/their thesis whenever he/she/they feel it’s ready.
JL: You mean no one has to approve it first?
YS: Short answer—no.
JL: No as in no one needs to look at it.
YS: Correct.
JL: I can just file it.
YS: Correct.
JL: You aren’t shitting me?
YS: No.
JL: And once it’s filed, I’ll graduate? Provided all the other coursework is done?
YS: As I mentioned, Dr. Reggebrugge’s departure has thrown a wrench into the works.
JL: I would say so.

3. We chatted a bit more, but it was like getting blood from a stone, so I hung up.

3a. Why do HR people play things so close to the vest?
3b. Who cares? I’m gonna graduate!
3c. Dr. Reggebrugge getting fired is the best thing that’s ever happened to me!

The delicious irony! It’s even better than when Dr. Lamble bit the big one! (citiation: Glenview Announcements obit).

3d. Spellcheck this motherfucker and put a fork in it!

Addendum:

• After I told my parents that it looks like I’m going to graduate after all, they were legitimately happy. Mom even hugged me.
• I posted my thesis on FB, and it got 34 likes!
• Anne’s clone messaged me from out of the blue to say she read my thesis on FB and got a good laugh at the part about mom’s fetish for Coffee Nips.
(Wow, talk about selective reading! What about me burying her tapes in the backyard? And that I think she’s a clone?)
• Now that I’ve graduated, I need to figure out how to get my training hours and then put together a lucrative counseling practice. There’s got to be some kind of app for that, right?

—§—

Conclusion:

After the euphoria of graduating wore off, I started to wonder what had happened to Dr. Reggebrugge. So I did what any normal person would do—I trolled him on LinkedIn. And Instagram. You might wonder why I never looked for Dr. Reggebrugge on social media before. At that time, I had no interest in him as a person. I saw him as another hoop I had to jump through. Well, it turns out that Dr. Reggebrugge lives in Oak Brook, Illinois. He’s married with two sons and what appears to be a corgi. And he’s looking for work, as an adjunct professor or an educational consultant. He’s also a Reiki healer.

It was strange seeing a photo of Dr. Reggebrugge wearing a Santa hat in front of a mantle with his family at Christmas. How was this person who seemed so normal the same person who tossed around fancy Psychology terms and mocked my ideas, like he was some kind of expert. Maybe the point is that while I don’t exactly love Dr. Reggebrugge, I don’t hate him either. He was only trying to do his job. Which he sucked at, but still.

Hypothesis: Reconciling love and hate are vital if one wants to move forward. Holding onto grudges only hurts the grudger, not the grudgee. (citation: Message I left on Clone Anne’s cell phone). (Citation: DM to Dr. Reggebrugge on LinkedIn).

Why do I keep citing sources even though my thesis is finished? Everyone needs a new project. You know what they say, when one door closes, another one opens.

Another hypothesis: The Failure of Online Universities to offer Real World Advice to their Students has Real Time Consequences.

Now that’s interesting. I could really be on to something with that.
.

.
Debbie Graber‘s short fiction has appeared in The Conium Review, Cagibi Lit, Zyzzyva and Hobart, among other journals. Her story collection, Kevin Kramer Starts on Monday, was published in 2016 by The Unnamed Press. Debbie grew up in Chicago and currently lives in Los Angeles.