'Twas the Night Before the Night Before Christmas

And all through the house not a creature was stirring... except me and my laptop, and somewhere outside my house is a train going by off in the distance (not too far, though - like the middle distance), and my noisy neighbors having what is undoubtedly their 7th party in 4 days (they sound tired, though determinedly noisy), and all the other creatures, including the fuzzy feline variety, inside my house are doing anything but stirring at the moment. One seems to be snoring.

I'm awake, though. Dammit.

I'm spending this week's few days at the office topping up a certification for my job. Then I'm taking some days off, and then it will be the new year, and then I'll be back in school, and then all of my transfer applications will be due, and then I'll know who "accepts me" and will know my options, and then I'll be able to make a decision that is going to affect this rather whimsical career path I've embarked on after years of fiddling around with other options.

Can you see why I'm up late?

I keep arriving at these "crossings" and they always seem like such a big damned deal when I'm there at them, trying to make a sensible decision, and in retrospect they always look like the tiniest pittances of decisions. I can't throw decisions away anymore, though, because the wrong one will possibly consume a decade of your life without explanation or even you realizing it, really... or worse, and I can't fathom worse because consuming a decade is bad enough.

This evening Lesley asked me what consumes my mind these days, and I gave her a running commentary that slurred on for a good 3 minutes of non-stop banter... and in sorting it all out, actually, I've got an excessive pile of junk on my mind. I need to get that handled.

I'm getting a handle on my health situation, though. The kinesiologist I'm seeing currently has helped me identify, using his sciences, my particular issue... and more importantly the cause of my particular issue, and possibly even more importantly, a plan toward a solution that does not involve simple treatment of symptoms, but genuine healing.

One question remains in my mind, though... how does one drink a toast to their liver?

Probably with beet juice or something, because heaven help me it shall be a while before I have my beloved beer or favorite whiskey again.

Can you see why I'm up late?

Winter, yeah.

Winter in Florida. I still feel hot, mostly because the heat is always cranked up inordinately, compensating in these first few cold weeks. Floridians can't handle the sub-70 days.

Short story ideas remind me of (*gasp*) Sexual Arousal. The idea arrives, and the act of writing, scratching the itch as it were, is at the option of the writer. I file most away for later, myself, in notebooks, which probably means something in this analogy also.

The semester is ending. I need a break. This semester wasn't academically difficult, I was just really occupied by far too much stuff. Next semester is my last at my current school, theoretically.

Watching the re-broadcast of the Manchester United / Sunderland game from earlier today. Good play..... for the most part. Ferdinand v. Ferdinand (PS what a game, and also, the Villa/Toffees game was killer too - dramatic!)

A few more thoughts. First, there is a section in the book store that contains chairs that are mostly used by homeless people. What is it about the bookstore that attracts the homeless? Is it the casual "browse and sip" atmosphere mixed with the absence of authoritative managers harassing them to buy or leave? Sounds likely.

Finally, a thought on the holiday season. The "Home Sushi Kit" is officially the new "Fondue Set" in that it is likely to be looked at with a forced, crooked smile when unwrapped, stored in a cupboard for roughly two years, then moved to a closet, then the attic. Then, five years later, it will somehow survive the decision about what to take over to the local Goodwill, will be opened, and terrible, floppy, poorly shaped sushi will be crafted clumsily and inexpertly, and then the damned thing will get tossed once and for all.

Yours is on the way. Merry Christmas.

Can't afford it!

A friend told me today that the utilities company is going to cut the power to his business this coming week.

"The Economy"

We live in pretty cruddy times I suppose. There's a war that people seem to either hate or believe we're morally obligated to. We're politically divided and filled with animosity. People are either losing their jobs or thinking about what would happen if they did, and that slows everything down. Now, our finances haven't been directly affected yet, but I've noticed recently that every time I whip out the ol' debit card, it hurts a little to spend that dollar. I think I'm actually spending less as a result of it.

So, while the wife is out of town, I've been thinking about life. It is a little terrifying to consider selling an affordable house on which I have a fixed rate mortgage and a decent amount of equity, moving to a new state, and essentially starting out on a new career. I am terrified. I've said it twice for emphasis.

Of course I realize that this is where it happens, here on the edge. You have to take a risk or two, even if the poor-house is probable. If there is one thing I always forget, it is that I'm resourceful. We've been to the crap-farm before, Les and I, and we kept it together. They weren't the best of times, but we kept it together. We'll keep keeping it together, I suspect.

I have to keep remembering - this is for school. I believe in education. I believe that educated people have a better chance at the careers they want instead of the jobs they fall into. I believe that becoming educated is a fulfilling experience. I also believe that cowardly actions don't lead to anything positive, and recognize the difference between cowardice and irresponsibility.

The good news is, I'm still young. So, staying here seems cowardly. Maybe if we had a kid or something it would be different, but we don't and have no plans to... and, actually, come to think of it, having kids never seemed to deter my parents in any serious manner from moving (and, honestly, I have to say that consistent movement helped forge the personality I have today, so no complaints from me at this point... or back then, really).

I revert, in times like these, to a few rules - channel my unstoppable shopaholism into things that are useful and long-lasting (sensible coat, decent watch, good books - the stuff every guy needs), quit eating out by succumbing to my natural mistrust of every other living human, and just being smart about stuff. Keep the cars running, keep the card payments down, all of that stuff.

School is going well this semester. I signed up for my classes for spring, also. My mythology class takes place in... Second Life. I'm not a huge fan of Second Life, to be honest, but it is an interesting idea and if the system manages not to get in the way of learning (I suspect there will be some WebCT components as well) I'm game to try it. Hopefully the strange folks who seem drawn to a recourse-free virtual existence will leave us alone during class.

Quick question: How do people have time to play video games? Seriously.

Welcome to Europe by which I mean Iceland. No, I'm not actually in Iceland.

I wonder how long it is between "tempting" literary magazines with your work and placing work in one.

Since the writing world works on a realllllly slow version of time (like, as though the world were revolving around the sun on Neptune's orbit, say, taking about 165 times as long to accomplish as any other thing one might do), I can only hope it is quickly... relatively speaking.

Vacating?

I just returned from vacation to Ohio. Why Ohio? Well, of course, I did spend quite a few years there growing up, and my folks still live there, and there is a college there I was interested in visiting. I did visit it, in fact, and it was pretty nice.

How keen am I to be living in the colder climates again? SO KEEN. YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY KNOW HOW KEEN I AM ON THIS.

Yet, there are economic concerns involved, and I'm wondering if I wouldn't just be better to do an online degree at a school that offers an online degree in what I want to study, say, maybe with a scholarship for all of my hard work... after all, this is just finishing up my undergrad... right... right??? I mean, no one really cares where you go to your undergrad, right? RIGHT?????

......

Let me share this idea - I'm not entirely sure how this vision appears in my head as the wife and I have no plans to (read: plan not to) have kids, but I picture myself in my mid-to-late 40's sitting and discussing the idea of college with a kid, say 15 or 16 who appears to display a genetic resemblance to me, just unravelling the mysteries of "their future" and in this vision I'm explaining to them why, when I had been so keen on attending a top school or really hip lib-arts place, I settled for what made a variety of financial sense at the time when I was considering it... and then I picture myself as the 15 or 16 year-old and think of the older me as being sad somehow, as though he missed out on a great opportunity. Also, I am slightly angry because I can no longer apply to an Ivy League school as a legacy, and thus will have a slightly reduced chance at being able to attend. Come to think of it, I'm downright pissed at older me. Bastard.

But younger me... you have to understand... back then we were in a recession, and no one was sure if they could even get a loan to go to those sorts of schools... and we were so concerned about our financial states. I mean, we had a house and stuff, tiny as it was, and jobs, and all sorts of things were going right... and Lesley wasn't even sure she'd be able to find a job where we were going to go, and there was no way I could work and go to school full time. It was a big risk, you know, and it just didn't make sense in light of everything...

Shut it old man, you're making excuses and I don't even know what recession means so quite bla-bla-bla-ing at me like you are some sort of annoying duck that wants to justify his actions! Ducks don't justify anything! They have a slick back off of which things slide, and I know that fact from my data pad! Now, I will utilize the incrementally shortened attention span the youth of the future have and I shall tune you out now and go play ultra-games on my face-computer.

Younger me... if only I could explain or somehow put it in context, but alas, I cannot and that pains me so.

...

For the future non-existent children I must someday justify myself to, I do not feel I should compromise, people! That is totally sane, and not at all weird or unstable to think that, either. Trust me. I know. I whisper secrets to myself.

Pow! Ka-bam! wait...

Last night I watched Casablanca for the second time in as many weeks. It reminds me of film school, inexplicably, as we never watched that film in film school. I remember watching Nosferatu, though. Anyway, I guess, when you look past the era-localized dialogue of Casablanca, you get down to the core of storytelling for film... the scene, the cast of characters, the leading character, their challenge, the road, the point of no return, the climax, the kicker. It's a classic and it's classy.

I'm working through a bunch of pieces for a section I was assigned for my school's Alumni magazine. They're coming out pretty good so far. I still have to organize an interview and might have to hunt down a few photos, but other than that, looking pretty sharp.

I feel like I haven't been writing lately, though, honestly, it seems like I've actually been doing little else. That's what happens during semesters with lit-intensive classes. I write constantly, just not as much the things I want to work on. Right now, actually, though, it has been a nice stack of essays, many of which are more related to school transfer applications. So much "self-selling," a big change from my usual self-deprecation and chronicles of human-nastiness. Hope I recover from all of this positive thinking.

In other news, I was recently given a sweater knitted by a werewolf. It is actually rather comfortable.

more bla on submissions

Subs currently out: 23

How likely one is to be published: Less likely than I'd like to believe, I'm afraid.

I don't lead with B material, but as I gather new good short pieces, I frequently see who I haven't sent something to in a while and give 'em a bit of a razzle-dazzle. That's the correct method of dealing with this whole process, at least I'm told it is and am inclined to believe it is.

So, it is September, the month of my birth, and this September marks a whole really long giant and memory swallowing amount of time since I've been up North during the fall. What is it about Ohio in the fall? What is it about Connecticut's falling leaves, Maine's crisp coastal breezes, Vermont's local fall festivities that captivate me so? Sometimes I feel like a man possessed by apple cider and hay-ride memories. And cinnamon donuts.

Big shout out to Patterson Fruit Farm where the finest cinnamon donuts are available alongside scrumptious apple cider (this is coming from a guy who has pressed his own cider before, people).

(gosh I just realized how drearily New England it is to brag about pressing cider. Consider it stricken from the record, but secretly not)

I'll let you in on another secret, too: I wanted to go to bed 13 minutes ago, but I am compulsively staying awake right now. To what end I have no idea. I need sleep. I like sleep, when it is happening. It is the before-sleep brain-jogs that cause me to avoid the pillow, I think. My brain goes wandering, and when it does so, I get concerned. I usually try to blur it out by reading until I literally cannot keep my eyes open anymore, but that may not be an option tonight as the wife is already asleep and my desk lamp would probably wake her, that and my reading material is not the sort I can blur through.

I will wake up very tired tomorrow and will require coffee. I've become dependent on it, again, lately. I was dependent on it when I was younger, too... getting up at 6:ANYTHING to get to school on time (long drive, frequently in 3+ feet of snow, up hill both ways, sled dogs, etc.) causes one to crave strong stimulants early in the morning, minor status or not.

I was struck by a wretched thought today... just now, actually. I'm not sure that the people currently closest to me would tell me if I smelled bad or not.

I'll leave you with that thought until something more profound occurs to me.

Rejected by the best!

Top-down, or realistic?

As an amateur/unpublished writer, do you really want to "waste" the New Yorker's time? Is there really the chance that you're the breakout undiscovered super-scribe? On the other hand, does it do you any good to have a realistic goal with your writing considering the amount of pavement-pounding one must do to achieve even an MODEST placement in a litmag?

I say GO FOR IT. True, a literary magazine may shovel your work back into the envelope with haste and fury, slapping that SASE back into the mailbox faster than you can say "wait!" but they know your name, now, even though it is as an object of burning scorn, a red, swollen blotch on a day that was otherwise pleasant. And that's fine, just... next time send them something better. After that, something even better. Then a better piece after that. Etc. They'll see you growing. Perhaps that will encourage them to publish your work? It could happen, I mean, at least, I think it could. I imagine it could. Right?

I mean, I don't know, don't look at me for advice, though... everyone thinks my stuff is too WACKY to appear in their magazine. They've got a public to think about, people. They can't have my ramblings sandwiched, shoe-horned, if you will, between advertisements for the Iowa Writer's Workshop and a fancy watch company like "Omega" makers of the acclaimed Seamaster series. How would that look, a story about owning a pet shrimp, slapped in between those two advertisements, those fine purveyors of their craft and trade? How it would look is, people would think the "The Iowa Writers Workshop is obviously a beastly hippie commune that espouses hard substance consumption as a means of simulating creativity, and the Omega Seamaster watch is clearly not the sort of product I should be getting involved with. It will probably cease to work right when I need it, or magnetize my credit cards or shoot springs and gears at my grandmother in a malicious fashion when I'm not looking, and then phone to have her placed in a dodgy old-folks home. Also, as I read this magazine I feel that the ink may be lead-based."

On the other hand, your writing may not improve and you may not have the option to send a increasingly better work of fiction each time your submit. If that is the case, no problem, there are still options (and most of them are not even suicide!).

Consider, instead, becoming the editor of your OWN magazine!

You could also become a blogger. OH SNAP, THE JOKE BECOMES A MIRROR TO WHICH I HOLD MY OWN EXPERIENCE UP AND SAY "GEE GOLLY, WOULDJA LOOKIT THAT."

Tagged and Filed: Summer 2008

Well, the summer semester of 2008 is over, the ponies are in and the jig is up. I must admit, this was probably the most academically challenged I have felt in my few years doing school/full-time work simultaneously.

A colleague questioned whether I will be able to handle 5 or 6 courses simultaneously when I return to school full time, if I'm feeling challenged by 3. I think I will, though. I mean, if the 9 hours a day I'm at work isn't enough for 2 courses lecture and homework (45 hours a week), I can't imagine that the courses are MEANT to be handled. Really, I hope that this will signify both a quality/thoughtfulness increase in my work as a whole (not that it is particularly poor or thoughtless now, far from it), and perhaps will give me the time to fully appreciate the density of material in a way I may not be able now. Maybe it will do these things. Maybe it truly will overwhelm me, though. So many variables, x's upon y's upon n's.

In the meantime, as the semesters tick down and I wrap up the last few classes I have left to sort out, I'm keeping the schedule for submissions heavy (I have about 10-15 out currently, and am endeavoring to keep that pace up), and am working on my transfer admissions essays heavily as well. Most schools require three essays in addition to resume and application information. I probably need to retake the SATs, though I need to get my scores from my high school and figure out what they were sometime this or next week (I think they said they'd be back to business in August). I'm 99% sure I could do better on them now, but, ya know, who knows. Just want to give them the best idea of who I am now, not... almost 10 years ago at this point.

Anyway, yeah, a lot on my mind. Off to a meeting. Later.

Submissions. Lit mag.

Oh wow, two posts in one month!

I had a few thoughts, though, and I wanted to share.

First thought: Submissions, as an unpublished/underpublished fiction writer are tough going. I think, though, that most writers make it even TOUGHER by worrying a lot about scatter-shooting their submissions to hundreds of magazines they're unfamiliar with, and then just sitting around and waiting for the responses.

Here's the thing, though....... you HAVE to be familiar with the place you're submitting to. I mean, read the damned magazine a few times at least, just to make sure you're not wasting your/their time and, really, your paper. That's the thing - literary magazines have this groove, and the few consistent, interested readers they have definitely have an expectation about what they'll find in their favorite magazine's pages. They aren't going to divert from that style. Why should they?

Next, once you get a rejection, SEND SOMETHING ELSE OUT. Even if it is to a different magazine, send something to someone. Keep things going out constantly. Have 10 things out at all times, at least. Even after you get one thing published. Along those lines, keep records of what you have sent to whom. Keep writing new material, editing, revising, workshopping, and then... SENDING. Show them your progress. If you're serious about appearing in print/hypertext, that is the only way.

Second Thought: I wish I had the time to get my own online literary mag under way. I have the site built, the webspace, etc., but no time to actually do the thing, at the moment. Maybe once I am back in school full time and no longer working. That's okay, I can wait. I mean, do that many people read each online magazine unless they are conceptually brilliant? I think not, I think most people are generally ignorant that such things exist, or that such things have classically been the proving grounds for stories that eventually became their favorite movies, such as the basis for National Lampoon's Vacation, based on John Hughes short story Vacation '58, first published in National Lampoon Magazine in 1983, republished in the most current issue of All Story.

Maybe people should be more aware of lit mags, maybe more of online lit mags... and maybe we need to give them more reason to read them. WRITE WRITE WRITE BRILLIANT WORK!

Stuff to think about.

Dear (Your Name Here),

Hi. How are you? I'm fine, thanks. So...

huh?

Anyway, reading George Saunder's "In Persuasion Nation," working on essays for school applications, and taking notes.

Someone told me once that the French do not respect Americans because Americans buy croutons. I refused to believe that, when I heard it. Then, I made my own croutons.

Our reliance on industry has truly undermined our ability to perform even the simplest task, hasn't it? What do you really need to make croutons, after all? Friggin' old bread, olive oil, an oven or even a couple of moderately clean bricks and a barrel fire....... maybe some spices, if you're A FANCY PANTS?

(which I am)

I say all of this as I wipe my hands on a paper towel. Ahhhh, hypocrisy.

Lately, Les and I have been playing this game where we kill a bug and then leave it wherever it died for the other to find.

"I think I'll have some of this sake! Ohhhhh, it was used to kill a Cockroach."

"Coool, I didn't know we had cheez-its! Ohhhh, dead ants."

Ah, summer in Florida. Roaches, the lightning storms, and the pollen make it totally worth checking out.

note:

I just bought a book about the history of Cod. Awesome :D

Afternoon thoughts while doing homework.

Here I am excitedly waiting for Sumo wrestling to come on TV while I study about the facts of volcanic activity in the Earth and read intermittently. I got Nicholson Baker's "The Mezzanine" in the mail the other day. So far... it is... so micro aware... that I love it and hate it... etc.

I've also got a Gary Lutz book to read, though... who knows when I'll get to that. Eh.

I was in the yard doing some work earlier and there was a black snake cruising around the yard. The cats, from the screened-in porch, were fascinated. I wouldn't give the snake long against them... they're merciless playmates.

Well, alright, in the course of pecking away at this uninteresting blog entry, the Sumo has ended and Netherlands v. Russia is on the Tele... this has the makings of a great game. Better go watch.

Writers.

As I've met numbers of writers, I've been consistently interested in examining their individual points of views on writing, the ideas they have settled on to explain their process.

Frequently, these things are formulated as little mantras or memorable quotes, and... well, normally that stuff is pure cheddar, but in this case I think it's helpful for remembering principals important to the process of creating compelling fiction.

There is a science, in other words, to crafting stories, and... maybe the majorly interesting factor is the creative variables applied to the recycled topics we all tackle.

Lost for classic topics upon which I wanted to place my own observations, lately I've been tackling... not "current" topics, because those are loaded topics, always... but stories that deal with "familiar" people, modern thought processes, whatever term you want to use to describe them.

Everyone has a process, of course... and we're all speaking something like the same universal language... and each process ends up with the same style product........ but its those little nuances, little nodes, etc., that bring out the real "process brilliance."

In other news, Lesley wants to go to Switzerland once I finish at my current school, which just so happens to coincide with her birthday. Yeeeeee. That's a lot of money, but I would love to experience a country I've never been to... I always do.

Movies.

I just saw "Control," a film about Joy Division. It was fantastic. The story about Ian Curtis is by no means a happy one..... but the telling was excellent.

I highly recommend seeing it (it just came out on DVD, though I saw it in the local "art theatre").

Just to quickly relay a situation, though, we found ourselves in the theatre with some pretty rude folks. About... oh, say, 5/8ths (specific!) of the way through the film, a girl in the back started laughing. She didn't stop, both laughing and talking, for the rest of the film, giggling in outbursts as Ian Curtis' life was descending into chaos. I actually got up and walked back to ask them to stop being rude, but when I approached their table the guy sitting with the girl pulled her up against him as though I was coming to attack them or something, so I turned around and returned to my seat.

The Enzian is a dinner theater, so a certain amount of "conversation" is expected, but a larger amount of respect is sort of... expected, ya know? It isn't a dollar theater, they aren't showing "Baby Mama" that you are totally cool to talk through, and you expect people to talk through it as it speaks to the sort of people who know they are much more important than everyone else, and their giggling emotional conversation is necessary to have right then, in the theater, everyone else be damned.

I guess it is sort of elitist to think that there are certain places that the rude, inconsiderate and, well, ignorant don't go. Maybe it is just naive. I think definitely, though, that those that actually pay attention at the movie theater, in the classroom, in events where focus is directed on one task, those that can let the attention float away from us for a while, need to stand up for quiet.

So, people in the theater tonight - I'm sorry I didn't stand up and tell you to shut the hell up. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that you were being rude. I did you a disservice because I don't think you realized you were being obnoxious, I don't think you could comprehend that someone would actually want to be quiet for 90 minutes straight without even having a loud, giggling conversation. Next time I'll let you know - for your sake and mine.

I wish I didn't get this pissed off about stuff like this. I'm probably overreacting, but dammit, I wanted to pay attention to the movie!

Is that a fact?

Does a book really need to tell the story of a change coming about in a character?

I mean, really.......

Moderate to midrange.

Hello.

This evening I helped Lesley sneak a camera into Hard Rock Live and the Kids in the Hall live performance we were attending, this against the wishes of the establishment who instructed her that she was not allowed in the venue with a camera in her purse and would need to dispose of it or check it for $3.00. It wasn't to take pictures, this little fisheye camera with no film, more like an purse-normal oversight. So, I went in, walked down a partition, had her slip the camera over the wall into my jacket hood, and back in. As I walked by the security guard, he asked me to empty my pockets (again), and checked my jacket pockets. Not the hood.

I feel a little guilty, but they were being unreasonable. The camera didn't even have film in it. Ridiculous.

Last night I attended a reading at Infusion Tea in College park. Reading were the writers Lisa Pasold, Dottie Horn, and Illyse Kusnetz (a poet, professor, and friend).

I read, later, as part of the "open mic" section. People liked my stuff, I think. The organizer asked me to come back as a featured writer on June 4th, and I said yes, of course. I'll have 25 minutes to read my work in (as opposed to the 5 allotted for the open-mic readers).

Hopefully people can come out, though recently I have sensed a bit that my "writing" has worn a little on my friends. It is difficult to face that fact, but some folks just can't be supportive. Perhaps it isn't in their nature, and I'm okay with that because I have to be because that's just how it works.

Lesley's and my anniversary is coming up.

Congrats Man Utd on the double - prem and champions league - hell of a game!

merry mum's day

today is a fine day to thank your mom for giving birth to you. You were an awful rotten brat, after all. Call her now.

We went to an awful tourist trap called Dinosaur World. It featured giant dinosaur sculptures of questionable accuracy. It also featured a small staff that didn't pay attention to the visitors enough to notice that we were crossing the ropes and taking pictures with the dinosaurs (notably, me punching one). Maybe I'll post pictures later. It was silly, certainly. We also had dinner at Columbia restaurant in Ybor, this all for Lesley's birthday.

Tampa reminds me so much of a transplanted northern town. I fully expect to see highway signs directing me to Indianapolis, IN or Erie, PA instead of Ocala and Orlando and Miami. Why do I get this feeling? Maybe because of the way the highway is designed.

School is very taxing this semester and is causing me to evaluate how my time is being spent. I'd love to go to school full time and devote all of my efforts to learning. Just think what i could accomplish with that much time... Like two more things a day. Hehe.

Congratulations Manchester United, prem champs 07/08.

Teacher.

Today I have encountered the following awesomethings (yes, that's a word - I just made it up):

1.) Student's voting for the best student project - one student drew a... "John Thomas" and "Balls" as their score. I made an announcement that whoever drew the dick had clearly voted for their opinion not mattering, and the class thanks them for it.

2.) Student sent an email from an ambiguous AOL account asking "hey can you give me my grade? Thx" - no name, no id, no information about who they are. I noted that, yes, I could give them their grade... if I had any flippin' clue who they were. They could, perhaps, be a 70 year old woman in Miami who is very confused. They could be a Martian spy. They could be a student from my class. Also, they spelled "Wedding" wrong - "weding" - nice! I hope they manage to pop out a kid soon so their kid can be awesome, too.

3.) A student that just HAS to get a B in the class to be able to move on to the next degree program (by maintaining a decent GPA). As usual, I have to calculate his grade to 8 decimal places and determine what exactly he needs, and if he fails to achieve I get to be the one to be begged for makeup work (not 8 classes before me that he got D's and F's in, no, he begs for points from the teacher of the class he got a high C in simply because it's the last one!), and if he succeeds, I will never hear from him again because I'm like toilet paper that way. No thanks, just flush.

So, yes, as you can clearly see, I'm very satisfied with being a teacher at this particular institution at this particular moment. Go me.

Put a ribbon on it.

Spring Semester 08: Complete.

No, I'm not joylessly running through semester after semester, I'm getting down and doing my best to enjoy every moment, every class, every benefit each of them provides for me. Bingo. Anyway, no time to celebrate (much, I did go out for ice cream today, and as if in some sort of cosmically appropriate way, I did not experience any unruly stomach issues), since the summer semester begins in a matter of 5 days from now.

I've got some cool opportunities coming up. As with many of my opportunities, they won't be mentioned in detail as the physical manifestation of said opportunities is limited and they carry, by their very nature, no guarantees. If I tend them and they bear fruit, my dear blog, don't you know that you'll hear about them? Of course you do.

Memory: I was thinking about the last car accident I saw. The front of a VW Bug had propped up the end of a pick up truck. There were no injuries. The pickup was later found to be pregnant.

Blog!

Look at me, I'm blogging!

Hi folks, it has been a month and it is time for me to compulsorily (is that a word?) update my life-happenings.

As of this moment I'm on what I hope is the tail end of a ridiculous bout of Bronchitis. Simultaneously, this conniving little bastard of a bug has conspired with my spring-time allergies to create an impenetrable mess of my immune system that involves stuffiness, coughing, headaches, stiffness and a fluctuating temperature.

Am I writing despite all of this? Of course I am. What are you, crazy? Good stuff too, at least it seems good while I'm writing it and later when I read it to someone it sounds crazy and misguided and people look at me the way dogs look at someone who is playing a trombone.

"Hurrr?"

I also got into a nice camera for my weekly adventures and the documentation of said adventures and have been using it liberally. I'll throw a few shots in at the bottom from my Anthropology class that I am currently enrolled in.

Now, if I may muse, I've been thinking a lot recently about hobbies, specifically my own personal tendency to pick up and drop hobbies as though "having hobbies" was my hobby. Maybe the things other folks call hobbies, or devote hobbyist interest to just become assimilated into my world view so that I need no longer spend energy on their pursuit but simply enjoy the collection. Pens, for instance. I haven't bought a new Fountain Pen in months. That's fine, of course, I have TOO MANY as it is. Do I still use them? Of course I do, they're everywhere. Do I still nerd out on forums about them? Not really, simply because the need for more information about pens is no longer there for me. I have the ones I want, I'm content to simply use them and resupply when necessary. Isn't that how a hobby should be, after all? Shouldn't it have some end goal?

I often wonder if one can truly trust one's self, but the key to this riddle is likely to cultivate an understanding of the complex pathways that make up one's logical thought system. The fact is, tracing the reasoning behind every little thought or bias you have in your life is impossible, but understanding your general motivations out of the scope of your own knowledge is DEFINITELY possible. It just takes the time to get to know... you.

Wow, this post is sort of lackluster... lets see........

THE HAM SANDWICH IS THE SQUARE ROOT OF ALL THAT IS. THE FRUIT NEEDS TO SHOW YOU LOVE BACK LIKE A TRUE CANADIAN HERO.

You're welcome.

Pictures.

Drink Until You See Betty:


Fantastic.

Fantastic!

A few things.

1.) Work continues. I'm writing chapter after chapter and I don't know if it is momentum or just inevitable brain-spill, but I've lost steam and picked it back up and THAT is the business.

2.) Fantastic article about the Kerouac Festival readings by fellow Orlando area writer Robyn Weinbaum - Check out the Blogged version over at her site! Thanks, Robyn, for the mention!

3.) Lunch from a can.

Mourning instant photography... sort of.

The announcement by Polaroid of a few days ago saying that they will no longer be manufacturing instant film, combined with their discontinuing their instant cameras has me just a bit upset.

I enjoy the instant photography experience and not just because I'm an impatient bastard. It has a look, I'm afraid, that cannot be replicated digitally.

Also, I can point to a Polaroid taken of me at age 0 - will kiddies of today be able to yank out the photo album and peruse their baby pics? Or, will those be lost on Ma's "old computer," the HD of which is fried.

To mourn, today, on the way to work, I purchased one of 3 remaining Polaroid One600's on the shelf in the back of the photo section of the drug store on the corner (I would say "dry goods mercantile" since I'm being nostalgic, except my drugstore now has a digital cappuccino station built into the end-cap of one of the aisles, so somehow I don't feel the term applies). Someone will undoubtedly pick up the slack (and lets not forget, Fuji has made in the past and still does make instant film that is compatible with modern Polaroid cameras), but I want to remember. I had an old SX70, man.

Here's Engadget's take on the situation.



one of my more recent Polaroid photos.

Reading

I've got a reading coming up on February 23rd.

It's part of the Kerouac Festival at Valencia East Campus, and I'm reading a few of my short stories sometime during the student block (the student block goes from 1-2pm). Also featured will be former Poet Laureate (2001-2003) Billy Collins, who, in addition to doing a reading of his own work, will be signing books. There will also be other local poets and writers displaying their own work from 2-3:30.

Here's the info about the event on Valencia's site.

Here's the info about Billy Collins part in the event on Orlando Weekly's site.

This is completely free and is open to the public, so please, anyone who can come, I could use the support.

Hello Blog.

I didn't post at all in December. Whoops! Time slipped away. Since then I've finished yet another semester at school, one in which I felt like I did some pretty good writing and revising. I'm sure that stuff will lead to either:

1.) Fresh stacks of Rejection Letters (I'm running low!)
2.) Otherwise

So that's exciting.

Done studying Jack Kerouac now. I liked focusing on his work, but I must admit, the proportion of my enjoyment in reading "Dharma Bums" was inverse to my "enjoyment" in reading "The Subterraneans." I guess I'm just not as advanced as ol' Jack, what with liking sentence structure, plot layout, character development that doesn't happen in bursts of forward/backward idea spurting... or something.

Conversely, the "vignette collection" style writing of Irvine Welsh in the novel "Trainspotting" was nifty, and I enjoyed reading the book as difficult as the vernacular was at the beginning of the process (you get used to it after a few chapters).

Right now I'm reading Tim Powers' "Anubis Gates" (for a class, actually), and enjoying it quite a bit. Also on the docket for study this semester:

William Gibson
Jack McDevitt
Vernor Vinge

Sort of a "science fiction literature" class. Enjoyable, for me anyway.

Nothing else new to report, really... have done a bunch of writing, but I've been "refueling" more and scribbling down ideas while I've been working on other junk. There are some good ones, thus far.

I probably am doing a reading of my stuff for a festival at my school (The Kerouac Festival, still celebrating the 50th anniversary of the release of "On The Road"), also... though the details about that are forthcoming still. I'll post them when I have them.