Computers are the Devil.

I had a near death experience yesterday. While finishing the final revisions on my thesis before submitting said thesis to my committee I had a bit of an emergency. As I was doing the final alterations to format the documents to the grad school requirements, and check word usage and style when the impossible happened: my file corrupted. I sat in horror as I watched the text in my draft turn from the most intelligently written explication of Philip Roth ever into nothing but OOOO++ and other symbols. I was mortified to say the least. To make things worse I had saved the thesis to several other places and I could not get ANY of them to work. My Judas of a computer had betrayed me.

I immediately went into full tilt panic mode. All I could think for a solid twenty minutes was "Fuck it, I Quit. I fucking quit." I thought "this is divine intervention of the most nefarious sort telling me that I am simply not meant for graduate school and that it is divinely ordained that I will never graduate or finish this freaking program." Basically I shat my pants and then regrouped. I even ran down the hall and interrupted my advisor's graduate course to tell him to come to my office immediately during break because it was an emergency of the most erroneous sort.

Luckily, however, I regained my wits, cleaned my shorts, and remembered that I had the thesis saved on several disks, and that it was also saved in cyberspace. Thank God for email attachments. Whoever invented the internet (Al Gore?) and the email attachment deserves a place in Heaven right next to the German Monk who invented beer, and the dude that invented the breast implant. He was from Texas, by the way, proving once again that Texas freaking owns. And do not give me any of this feminist mumbo jumbo about that remark being sexist. It is what it is, and I am not going to apologize for loving big boobs. I am a man and I like girls with big boobs. Learn to cope.

Anyway, it also turned out that the OOO did not actually destroy any text but merely put about ten extra pages between the spot it started and the next word of text. However when it mucked up the text I had to go back an do all the revisions on word choice again because I had not saved the last bit of thesauras check that I had done. At that point I was more than happy to only have to redo the revisions on style and word choice.

With that in mind I should be ready for the defense of said thesis on Wednesday, and everything is on schedule. Let's just hope that my committee does not decide to take after Judas here, and betray or forsake me at the last moment. To say the least a disaster was of the rankest sort was avoided and so far things have come out ok. Although I think a certain Director of Graduate Studies has my total humilation scheduled for exactly 2 pm on Wednesday, April 5th. It is a very wierd coincedence that they are happened to end up scheduled at the exact same moment in time. However, I am not scared because I can give just as well as I get.

Things to do this weekend:

1. Go see my girlfriend. We are having a date night tonight, and I must admit I am really looking forward to spending some quality time with the little woman. We are going to dinner and movie (Ice Age2: The Meltdown). I am actually looking forward to this movie but I am letting her feel like this is her choice so I can use it later when there is an action movie that I really want to see. I can use the action movie as a "make up" movie for watching Ice Age 2.

2. Help her the little woman's dad fix her grandmother's fence tomorrow, and help clean the yard. That will be a good time. However, I must admit that when I complete/participate in projects like this it is always a reminder why I quit the construction industry to go back to school. I always end up with a much stronger appreciation of grad school.

3. Write the literacy interview for Literacy. I had to ask for an extension on the assignment so I could get the thesis ready for defense. It should be fairly easy to do. I alos need to prepare for the presentation in Shakespeare. I will do that Tuesday before class however because I got that. I also need to talk to the professor in said class about my 95 on the mid term. I think she took five points for something that was not very fair. I want my 100 dammit.

4. Do laundry some time this weekend. I have 7 weeks worth of laundry piled up in my closet. I will also be going commando if I don't wash underwear sometime soon. Luckily I have done sock/undies laundry in between the last time I have done colored/white clothes laundry. I really need to find an apartment with a washer and a dryer so I don't let this laundry gang up so much. The pile actually looks a person standing in the closet when it is dark at night.

That is all. You may now return to your regularly scheduled blog.

Another Day Another Kick to the Groin

This book Literacy and Literacies sucks my arse. I really hate this book. It is a two hundred page bibliographic essay. Those of you who are unfortunate enough to be mired in Academia know what an Ass Whip, with a capital A, a bibliographic essay is. For those of you fortunate enough to have avoided a bib-essay well let me explain what a pain the bib-essay actually is. Some of the following was stolen from the following website: http://www.haverford.edu/library/reference/rkieft/bibess.html

A bibliographic essay is a narrative discussion or a literature review of a topic. It is a "conversation in which someone not only advises you about "what's out there" but shapes that raw material into a coherent survey of the materials available. Like all bibliographies, the bibliographic essay enumerates sources and, like an annotated bibliography, it describes and analyses them; it goes beyond performing these functions, however, to comparing, contrasting, and evaluating the relationships among works. A bibliographic essay thus draws a picture of the literature of a topic, and in so doing, unlike a list and like an essay, it tends to take a position and establish an interpretive point of view."

So basically it is like reading a 200 page "he said she said" essay while telling everyone that the writers before your are wrong, and shooting holes in their theories. It is mucho boring especially when written by a boring dry ass academian who wants to show of how everyone else is so wrong, and how they have the only solution to a problem. Roughly, it is the equivalent of kick to the crotch or corn cob soaked in alcohol shoved into your rectum. Those of you brave enough to feel the need to run right out and read one of these little darlings can save yourself the trouble by shoving a sharpened pencil right into your eye. You would end up in about the same mood, but at least you would have a jaunty eye patch.

Why anybody would want to write an "anthropological" study in the field of literacy is beyond me. More to the point is why anybody would want to read such a wretched book. It really makes me want to drive to New York, and find these two authors kick them in the nuts and ask them "What the fuck where you thinking when you wrote that motherfucker!?! Historical studies are fucking bull shit to read. They may be valuable on some level but not to this kid.

Things to do:

1. Finish the final draft of my thesis. I have still have to revise the third chapter and the conclusion. A certain director of graduate studies was giving me some shit today because I did not give him a final copy two weeks ago. He was like "it is deparmental protocol to make sure that the director of graduate studies gets his copy two weeks in adavance." I wanted to tell him "motherfucker your lucky anyone is getting this bitch before the defense." Can't say it's bad if you haven't read it, and you can't say I don't deserve to graduate if it is not bad. I know that is my own gorilla logic but what the hell it sounds good in my sleep deprived brain.
2. Write my log on Literacy and Literacies for class tomorrow. That will have to come between my 9 and 12 o'clock classes tomorrow. It is only one page long so it won't be much of an ass whip. How do you say collegiately that "this book is so bad that I would not wipe my ass with it?" I will have to think about that before tomorrow.
3. Try to find a way to convince said literacy teacher that it is ok that I will be mising the third day of class this semester on the April 12th because I have a job interview in scenic Lexington, VA. I am still not looking forward to that ass whip of an 153 mile car ride from Greensboro because the employer is a cheap bastard. I wish I did not really want this job or I would tell them to fly me closer. Bummer. Hopefully the other guys I am riding with won't be a drag, or be like "Dude, lets stop and get some beer." Sounds outlandish but they will be a Fraternity brothers, and we all know how that goes. Sad thing is I know me and I would be like "Sounds good to me. The bastards should have flown us closer if they did not want a drunken road trip."

That is all.

Just for the record did anyone in America have George Mason vs Florida, and UCLA vs LSU in the final four?? I mean all four teams. That exploding sound you just heard was the demolition of my bracket at the hands of LSU, UCLA, and George Mason. I had Florida, Michigan State, Texas, and Memphis in the Final Four. I will say this:

Since Texas has lost I am firmly rooting for anyone to beat George Mason.

That is right I do not care who wins as long I don't have to hear five months of Cindarella stories about George Mason's amazing run. If they win we will be hearing about that shit for the next 25 years. I do not think I can stomach that. I simply cannot stand the thought of reading the rancid newspaper headlines that will spawn from this. For example I have already read "Patriot Game" about ten times, along with "Pat-Riot after Upset." Man someone please knock these guys out.

*********Update 3/27 5:17 p.m.*********

1.5 million people played in ESPN's Tournament challege and four (4) picked this final four correctly. It all boils down George Mason. Something like 284 people picked them to win it all. They all must go to GM because no one in their right mind would have picked them to win it all and actually believe that they would win it. What a crock of shit. I say we find these people and stone them to death. Of course now we are all gonna have to listen those dudes who swear they had GM all the way. Of course if you ask them for proof they will not be able to prove it but they will be like "Dude I had them all the way. I am such a Genius." Of course you will think that you have never once in your life put that person's name and genius together in the same sentence but you can not really prove they didn't have GM so you let the lying bastard gloat...while secretly plotting to "accidently" hit them in the balls with a wiffle ball bat at a later date.

My love of Texas versus my love for a woman.

A tragic event occurred yesterday which really alerted me a serious change in my life. Yesterday I was hanging out with my girl, and watching a Pride and Prejudice (a make up movie for me making her watch every action and sophomoric comedy that comes out). Anyway so I am hanging out, and a friend called me to invite me over to party, and hang out. In passing he casually mentioned that Texas had lost in the Tourney to LSU (70-60 in OT) earlier in the day. Just for the record I said in an earlier post that Texas would lose to WVU while going 3-17 from the 3 point land but they won despite going 5-19 from 3 pt land on the good interior play of LaMarcus Aldridge and PJ Tucker and a savvy three pointer by Kenton Paulino.

However here is the crux of my problem: I totally forgot that they were even playing yesterday because I was kicking it with the woman. To say that I am pretty big Texas homer is a pretty big understatement. I once attacked an acquaintance for gloating a little too long over a 63-14 drubbing of the Horns at the hands of the arch nemesis Sooners. By "attack" I don't mean I yelled at him angrily and verbally chastised him for his hurtful and insensitive remarks. By "attack" I mean I launched a full and unopened beer can going about 75 mph toward his head/facial area which opened a large gash on his forehead then proceeded to kick him in and around in the crotchal area, and then began to punch/kick him in the face repeatedly before being restrained. Hey I don't claim that it was right or even sane. It is what it is, and you don't talk about my Horns.

Anyway, back to the point. Yesterday I was enjoying the day with my chick and I did not even realize the Horns were playing. That never happens. I never miss a Horns game if possible. Sometimes they are not televised in Dallas or they are playing a patsy so I only watch a portion, but I never miss a big game. I even considered trying to scalp tickets to the tourney game in Dallas to try to pick fights with opposing fans (yes I am a hooligan and yes I am ok with this). I know this sounds contradictory to every thing said in this post but I think I may have a reached a new level of maturity here. It is not the fact that I forgot about the game but that I do not really even care that I missed it. I would have rather spent the day with my girl (even if it means watching a chick flick and actually talking to her) than drinking and watching the Horns. I can't decide if this realization is crushing or merely just disconcerting but it does reassure me that I am making a good decision to marry the girl. I must really care about her if missing Texas games does not faze me all that much anymore. I will be a mad motherfucker, however, when missing the game entails an exciting trip to Home Depot/Bed Bath and Beyond or other such store of crapulence, that others have mentioned in their blogs recently so maybe I should just run like Hell now while I stil have the chance.

Just for the record I think we have a date set for the wedding (June 15th-ish roughly depending on where we decide to hold the wedding). We also know way too many fucking people. We are going to have invite roughly 200 people to this damn thing. I think I am going to lobby for our running off to Jamaica and getting married with our parents and close friends on the beach. I can't imagine having to stand around at a reception and actually trying to mingle with these damn people. What a killer that is going to be.

For those keeping track: I finished the revisions on the first two chapters of my thesis today. Once the last chapter and conclusion are returned to me tomorrow I will have those done too, and my thesis will be complete aside for the last revisions before submitting it to the grad school after my defense which is tentatively scheduled for April 5th. I better graduate this damn semester or I will freaking go crazy.

Your an Angry Drunk

Ever wake up with sore knuckles and a black eye? Thought so.

What Kind of Drunk Are You?

I take exception to this characterization of me as an angry drunk. I think those who have gotten drunk with me know that my will to fight (which is considerable) has nothing to do with alcohol. I am more likely to punch someone sober than when I am drinking. When I am drinking beer I am a bit more happy and willing to let things ride where as when I am sober and most likely a bit angry anway I will knock your fucking head off. BOO THIS QUIZ!!!

You Are The Star

You represent the ultimate in truth and purity. Insightful and illuminating, you provide guidance for others. You also demonstrate unselfish, unconditional love. You posses many spiritual gifts, including the ability to heal. Your fortune: Your future is looking brighter by the day. The near future will be a time of both hope and healing. Luck is about to come your way, perhaps the best luck you have ever seen. Life is about to get a lot easier and much better!

What Tarot Card Are You?

Well who would of thought I am nearing graduation and my life would get easier? I think this thing may be onto something here. Lord knows I could use a little luck, because it can get old getting by on this magnificent intelluct and sheer overwhelming talent alone. With a little luck I would be damn near unstoppable.

The Death of Friendship and Other Musings

After hearing a friend's story about her venting in an email and then sending said email to the wrong person--the person she was venting about--I began to wonder what people say about me in email/person behind my back. I would like to think that although I can be a difficult person to deal with at times that for the most part I am a pretty good friend. I don't put down my friends (I am not talking about jokingly ribbing friends. I mean the meanspirited I really don't like that person type putting down.) and I do not let other people talk negatively about my friends while I am around.

Loyalty is one the things I value most. I think you should defend your friends when others are putting them down even to point of fisticuffs. I defend my friends and I expect them to defend me the same way. I think that is what friendship is about: knowing that a person has your back no matter what and that you can count on them to defend you honor when you are not there to defend it yourself. I have always figured most of the gossip about me behind my back is more by other envious co-workers and less by my so called friends. However, I have recently found that not to be the case.

There is something deeply hurting about hearing two people you consider to be close friends putting you down in the next room that really destroys your ability not to care what other people think about you. While out and about the other night I heard two people I consider very close to me making remarks like "Man fuck him" and "that guy is such an asshole." You know I am not a sensitive guy to say the least but I do have feelings and I have to admit it was a very shitty feeling to overhear someone who had spent a good deal of time at lunch earlier that day telling you how you are one of their best friends run you down to another one of your friends. People should really be careful what they say because walls can be really thin.

The really sad part about it is that I actually believed that person when they said that we would be friends for a really long time, and I really did think they were a really good friend, and I thought I would be friends with that person for a long time. Now it has become one of those "I wish I didn't know now what I didn't know then" situations. A part of me feels like I am glad I know how they really feel so that I know they are not really a friend, but the bigger part of me wishes I had never heard it and wishes I could go back to feeling like we were friends again. It also has made me paranoid about other friends to the point where I wonder if conversations like this have gone on with other friends. I know people are going to say "fuck it, who cares what that asshole thinks about you?" I have to admit I have said similar things in similar situations but it is always easier when you are not the person who has been stabbed in the back. I am sure this type of stuff happens to people all the time, but I have never heard some one trashing me first hand like that. I guess I have been sheltered or that I have been blessed with some really good friends for the most part.

Oh well fuck it "ob la de ob la da life goes on he nah nah life goes on." Like the good book says, "this too shall pass" and it will. I am out of here in May and I will move back closer to my brothers. At least when they run me down they will say it to my face like a real friend. Plus I do know I have a few friends who do not engage in this type of behavior. I also have to admit I am beginning to like the whole blog thing. It has a whole confessional aspect to it that can be really relieving.

For record the last episode of Lost was a real let down. I was expecting some sort of reaction relating to what Kate found on the last episode and not some random episode about Sun being pregnant. What a downer. I am still waiting for them to kill this Henry Gail cat, and get that over with. I have to admit I think that he is not an other and that Said will be proved wrong and it will be an eye opening experience that leads to some sort of soul searching on his part and that is cool and all but I want to know what the hell is going on with the Dharma Corporation and the others. What the hell is the hatch doing on this Island?

Anyway I am going to take a hot bath and read for several hours and then watch the Longhorns go 3-17 from the 3 point line while choking in the Tourney and losing to West Virginia. That is just what I need: Another reason to be a sullen bastard. I love the Horns and I am going to be a very unhappy boy when the eventually lose during March Madness. I have to admit, however, I think this is the least I have ever cared about an NCAA Tournament. I think it is the parity and the fact there are no real powerhouses in this tournament. At least last year we had Illinois/UNC to look forward too. This year the only thing we can look forward too is Morrison versus Redick in the best "porn star wannabe contest." It will be the porn star stash versus the shocker. I wonder if Morrison realizes how laughingly bad that stash is. It is so ugly that it is cool, and you have admire him for having the balls to sport it.

I also think a post about Blood Meridian is forthcoming. It is the first book I have really enjoyed reading in a very long time. I strongly suggest that you read it. I must admit that I agree with Harold Bloom when he says it may be the "quintessential American novel" and "clearly the major esthetic achievement of any living American writer." I can't recommend this book strongly enough.

I REALLY NEED TO LOOK INTO DEVELOPING SOME HEALTHY SLEEP PATTERNS

I think I may have narcolepsy. This is not meant as a backhanded attack on those with this debilitating disorder, because I salute and support the sufferers of this noble diease. However, here lately my lack of healthy rest is becoming chronic. I am not sure how many nights in a row I have dreamed about tasks I have to complete the next day or in the next week but I would say the time table would more accurately measured in the months as opposed to days or nights. I recently read that the ages of 25-30 are one of the most common times that sleep disorders begin to form. What I don't understand is how I in years past I could party until five AM and get up at 9 and function like a champ and do this for several days in a row.

It seems like everyday around 2 my body goes into revolt and tries to force my mind to submit to some sort of sleep. It is getting to the point that if I get still I begin to doze off. The above photo was inserted not only for it's comic effect (which I must admit it is pretty funny) but also because I have dozing at my desk in my office a little too often here of late. I found the following at http://www.narcolepsy.org.uk/narcolepsy/Onset/show_page but it accurately describes my feelings at certain times of the day. It states, "Excessive Daytime Sleepiness takes the form of persistent tiredness, lack of energy and sleepiness. The patient has to expend an ever greater effort on remaining awake but even if he succeeds in staving off sleep, if it is in vain because in this state he is incapable of performing many tasks competently. When the compulsion to sleep is very strong may appear to be hopelessly drunk. The only wise course for him to adopt is to take a nap before attempting to complete the task he is facing." It is so hard not to nap but I am anxious because I afraid the nap will further my sleepiness at night. It is like I am afraid of sleeping because I am afraid it will prevent sleep in the future. To quote Lewis Black: "That...is fucked up."

The strange thing is that I have never been a big sleeper. I used get so pissed because all my friends would sleep until like 12 or 1 during the summer. I would stay up just late but I would roaring to go at 8:30. They would get up and I would so pissed because I felt like they had wasted half the day. I have always functioned on about 4-6 hours of sleep a night but now I am not even getting that. It is like I shut my eyes and I don't really ever fall asleep I just rest while thinking about tasks I have to complete. In reading this article one particular aspect of narcolepsy is particularly interesting to me: Sleep Paralysis. Sleep Paralysis is the loss of muscle control to the extent of total inability to move, which happens either at the start of night-time sleep or on arousal from sleep (it usally hits me before I wake up and I tipicially spend the time thinking I am screaming for help and trying to force my self to get up out of bed or off the couch. Good Times, Good Times). It can also occur after a voluntary nap or daytime sleep episode. Trust me: this can be particularly fightening. It is like you are awake and know you need to move but no matter how you try or struggle you cannot move.

It is extremely disconcerting to say the least. I have had this since my teens and I read a book about learning to control sleep paralsis in order to have an out of body experience. I never had to balls to try to move outside of my body. I was afraid I would screw it up and be locked into a catatonic state. Man that would suck. Gives me the creeps just thinking about it. The only two things I think could be worse that the ass whippery of graduate school are death, and being in a coma. The thought of unconsciousness does not appeal to me. I wonder if I have developed some sort of phobia against sleep. One of these days when I have a real job and good insurance and what not, I will have to look in to getting this checked out.

Just for those of you keeping up: My girlfriends check up at MD Anderson went well. They tumor is showing no change/growth so the doctor moved her from a 6 week cycle to an 8 or 10 week cycle. I attribute this good report to prayer and the grace of God (or Jesi as others mockingly refer to him). We also went to Galveston but alas their was no getting smashed on the beach on watching the waves roll in. What a bummer. I really could have used a few days of Corona and relaxation. Chicks can really be a drag sometimes. Since I have recently read a very convincing diatribe against marriage written on a friends blog I think I have pretty much sworn off marriage. I think I will let the author of said blog relate this info to my fiancee, however, since it is his cynical analysis of the bonds of matrimony that have triggered this phobia of marriage. Plus I do not really feel like looking up at the future Mrs. from a pool blood while she angerly asks those around us "how do you reload this damn thing?!?"

THE CAUSE OF AND SOLUTION TO ALL OF LIFE'S PROBLEMS; OR AN ODE TO BEER

Why is beer so good? I love beer. I am currently sitting alone in my apartment listening to some Merle Haggard (I think I will stay here in and Drink) and drinking Corona con lima, and my mood is steadily improving. I have felt like total crap for the last 24 hours but but a cold one in my hand and play some that old honky music and all of life's shit just fades away. I think I may or may not be an alcoholic, and I am cool with that.

I am currently sitting in my apartment drinking a Corona and feeling pretty good about my decision to drink despite the lack of company and/or drinking buddies. Everyone is gone for Spring Break in the Merce so I am left all alone. Speaking of which where is my Hispanic drinking buddy when I really need her? Oh well her loss. Just for the record, "Grandpa Tell Me About the Good Old Days" by the Judds is one damn fine song to drink to. Billy Joe Royal is also very underrated drinking music. If you are unfamiliar with Billy Joe Royal then you must run out immediately and download/buy "Till I can't take it anymore." You should also check out Old Crow Medicine Show "Wagon Wheel" while you are at it. Retro-Blue Grass is the shiznit.

Crystal and I are leaving for another round of doctor's appointments at MD some time tomorrow (given my current mood hopefully not too early). We are thinking of going to Galveston for the weekend and kicking it. I think that is a really good idea. Hopefully I can convince her that sitting on the beach getting blasted, and watching the tide roll in is a good idea. That would be pretty cool. Plus I am sure there has to be SOME spring breakers there. Plus I really need a vacation. However I do feel better than yesterday. If the bell were to ring today I could answer and answer with vigor so I am recupperating rapidly. Ahh beer how I pine for you...

Just a quick aside about the above picture: The person holding the corona has an almost disalarmingly fat hand. I thought they hired attractive hand models for this type of work? This doesn't really make me want a Corona in fact it leads me to believe I may be struck with chronic fat hand syndrome if I drink said beer.

Dunzo and Other Musings

Well the first draft of my thesis is done. I finished it on March 13, 2006 at 7:34 in the p.m. I am going to look over it again tomorrow to try to add a bit more to the conclusion but for the most part I am done (until my advisor obtains a copy and tells me its shit, rips it apart, and makes a comment or three on every single line of the fucking text so that the comments become so heavy I cannot even bear to look at the actual text any longer or even revise the damn thing).

Why do I feel such a sense of "wow I am sooooooo full of shit" right now? I have written a mini-book but the whole process was so disheartening that I feel like I have completely sold my soul just to get a master's degree. It is strange to think you have such a great idea and be really excited about it and have everyone tell you it is "really exciting and ground breaking" while at the same time doing every single thing in their power to make sure you do not ever get the chance to pursue the ideas you began with.

You start somewhere and begin to be pushed so hard in other ways that you finally get to the point where you just quit and begin to hint to the committee that you can't write and maybe they should do it for you since you are obviously a retard because every single draft is wrong. I should feel proud of having completed such a large project, but I feel totally 100% defeated right now. In The Winter of Discontent by John Steinbeck the protagonist talks about a flame inside of a person that either receives the oxygen of life or it goes out, and he sits next to the ocean contemplating suicide because his flame has gone out. The only thing that keeps his flame from being extinguished is the thought that his suicide my extinguish the flame inside his daughter and he decides to make sure that her life is never like his. That is how I feel right now that this whole masters program has extinguished my flame.

The sad part is I really used to love to read and write. I mean I got into this racket to share that love of reading and writing about literature with other people and to try to pass that love onto someone else who may not have gotten the opportunity otherwise. The fact is I no longer have that love of literature. I guess that is why Professors are such a drag because killing dreams is part of the process. It hurts to think I have always felt like a fighter as a guy that no matter the odds I can always answer the bell and come out swinging but the fact is that I feel like my flame has gone out and I really do not have any fight left in me for either finishing school or life. It has permeated my whole existence to the point that I simply want to quit all together. Nothing is worth this. Nothing. I think I am going to use the job with KA to figure out my next move and I am not sure what I want to do with my life but I can tell you this: I don't ever want to feel like this again. Right now I feel dunzo in both senses of the word.

Burn Out

Everyone in the writing center is dying. I am sure of it. I firmly believe someone has released the plague and they are slowly dying from Ebola or Hanta Virus. It is weird I walk in and it is like sitting next to my grandmother when she was sick alzheimer's diease. You know who they are but they are zoned out and don't even recognize you any longer. It is a strange feeling. You are repelled by their sickness but you have an overwhelming need to give them a hug and tell them it is going to be ok. Then you realize that it is not going to be ok and that things aren't really going to change.

So you try to put on a brave face and lie but in the back of your mind your thinking, "Wait until you have 50 papers to grade, lesson plans to make because you are not real sure where you are in the syllabus anymore, your students hate you because you still haven't handed back the papers you took up a week ago or lost the papers you took up a week ago, a student that goes to the department head because she thinks a limit of 8 absences a semester is unfair, and he agrees. On top of that you have a Master's Thesis to write, 6 hours of course work to read for, journals to write, and a spouse that thinks graduate school is just like your undergraduate work that only takes a couple hours a day to complete and thinks you are being a drama queen. All for 797 bucks a month for a job that only pays about 60,000 a year if your lucky enough to land tenure track at a good school."

Here is the truth though: The hardest part of the year is the first year of graduate school. Being in the writing center really is an ASS WHIP. You have no idea how hard it really is to have 9 am-2 pm blocked out of your day until you have 9-2 free. Once you get an office where you can work at your own pace and not have to cram eight hours of work a day into five hours and still manage to find time for the other people in your life, or have fun. The truth is graduate school is a MAJOR FUCKING ASS WHIP. Nobody likes grad school not even professors (in fact they try to sabotage you with nothing but fucking horror stories that are like daggers to the heart and they wait to pounce until you are actually feeling good about your career choice and yourself). However, after you get your own classes and begin teaching it is ok because managing your class preparation is much easier than being in the writing center. You will have a year (or a semester) that is like money falling from the sky. You won't understand why it was so hard last semester of why you ever bitched about it in the first place. Then the Gods will laugh at your good fortune, and become jealous they will foist a master's thesis and you (and do not think that a 595 is any easier, it is still 35-40 pages and starting in the fall most professors are going to make you write a bibliographic essay. Good luck with that). Then suddenly the clouds clamor and the sun disappears and you realize that world still hates you, and fate still mocks you. However you can avoid this fate by heading this warning.

THIS IS THE BEST ADVICE I CAN GIVE YOU:

Pick something that you are interesting in like sexuality, identity, etc. and write every paper in your course work on that topic so that you can throw three of them together and write an introduction and conclusion and be done with your thesis. If you do that life will be a gravy truck with biscuit wheels. I wish someone had given me that advice. I would have graduated already. Plus I was would be skating toward graduation in a drunken stupor right now. I hope this helps.

Where's the Van?

Well I just returned from province council and I am awaiting Crystal's arrival so that we can depart from MD Anderson. Province council was a blast. Nothing like staying up until 5 am drinking Jim Beam Black out of a coffee pot because there weren't any cups in the Hilton the night before you have a conference and job interview scheduled at 8 am. Good times Good times. Luckily I do not think it affected the job interview because I got invited to Lexington in the upcoming weeks to "discuss the position." Everyone sounded pretty positive and one interviewer stated that he was "very impressed" by my interview and thought that I would be an asset to KA. Like "eh Duh" I mean this is me we are talking about here. Of course I am impressive and an asset. But let's not put the cart before the horse here I have not be officially offered the job yet. I do believe it to be a foregone conclusion at this point.

However, one thing is complicating the issue. I think I am going to apply for the assistant editor of education publishing at Beford/St. Martins in Boston. If I am offered that job it will be a tough decision, and I think it may come down to compensation. Commitment to an order that means the world to me, and has given me many of my best friends or a position that would greatly advance my career, and reward me financially as well. Decisions, Decisions. Being an adult really is an ass whip at times.

As I mentioned earlier, Province Council really was a blast. The participants were me, KP, T Spoon, Spoony, Skinsy, Daniel, Cox, Cam, and Spunge, Davion (who really needs to take a look at female selection methods while drinking, and just for the record D, while I do support your right to choose whoever you want, and acknowledge the fact that you were the only dude to hook up with a chick at province council, the fact that you felt the need to defend yourself so vigorously ("she's 35 dude") as to her attractiveness makes me suspicous as to your guilt for hooking up with a woman that Skinzy actually labeled "double coyote ugly.") and Chris Coker (who takes his waffle house way too serious, and gets a bit too defensive about it by the way). I want to go on record right as to who was actually there now because as the legend increases about this province council that list of attendees will magically expand. We had/drank a bath tub full of beer (roughly 150 milwaukee lights, stones and coors light on saturday night and I will post a picture of it as soon as I can get get a copy from one of the others.

Friday night we spent the night in the Hotel because we had to get up early. A lot of fucking good that did. I think we might have actually gone to bed earlier if we had gotten smashed at a bar. You know it is a good time when you get stuck between floors in an elevator trying to find the room where the KAs from another chapter are hiring a stripper, and you get stuck in said elevator for 35 minutes and the first thing management says after freeing you from the piece of shit is "Hey guys you really need to keep it down. " Good times, Good times.

Saturday night we actually tried to party at some bars in Sundance Square but T Spoon wasn't 21 so we couldn't get in anywhere. We ended up buying a bunch of beer and going back to the hotel and drinking beer until the sun came up. Before the sun up portion of the evevning, however, we went waffle house and there wasn't enough room for us to sit down, and I actually thought Coker was going to try to kill us all if he did not get to eat at waffle house. We ended up at Denny's however and were served by Roseanne Barr. At least I think it was Roseanne because it was hard to tell at 5 in the morning after playing quarters for three hours and drinking roughly 25 beers. However I am standing by my contention that it was in fact Roseanne. Maybe it was a "broke ass Roseanne Bar" (to continue that game) but a Rosanne Bar none the less.

However I would like to clarify why the title of this post is "Where's the Van?" but I want to see if anyone listens to Dane Cook. Nothing like having 14 drunk guys randomly quoting various comics all night and at Denny's while your waitress is trying to take your order. Part of the story was us renting two vans to take everyone to province council, the other part comes from Dane Cook's comedy show. Chris Coker is also now one of my heros. We were going to the council meetings on Saturday morning and drag racing from red light to red light. Coker opens the door and leans out to spit. While he is doing this the light changes and KP floors it to take off. Without even taking the time to close the door, or to stop spitting Coker floors it and smokes the tires on the miny van and manages to overtake KP while leaning out the door. It really was a sight to see and confirms my belief that if I ever have enough money to form sprint car racing team Coker will be my driver.

One last note: I think Elise and Jeremy have begun an on going discussion on minority dating and post colonial theory. I would like to say that I FIRMLY believe that this will NOT go anywhere productive and that they end up mad and/or really pissed at one another at some point. I am willing to begin taking bets at 2-1 anger occurs at some point over this discussion, and I will give 15-1 they end up fighting outright over it. Loss of friendship is a long shot, but I will give 30-1 that it may occur. Jeremy can be a really insensitive white male (me too, more than him, and this is the main reason while I will not be joining this little fracus) and Elise can be a really sensitive minority/female which are not two good combos when debating. It should get interesting. I will keep you posted.

Upon my return from the latest job interview and a quick trip to MD Anderson I will be posting a little tribute to The Judds. I feel that lately my girls Wynonna and Naomi have not been getting the proper respect that these two fine ladies deserve. Honestly is there a better female vocal duo than these two? I feel compelled to come to their defense because there has been some criticism of late as to the music selection in my office. With that in mind, I think certain people need to be educated as to benefits of not only The Judds, but country music in general. Through out history critics have felt compelled to defend poetry and I feel compelled to defend The Judds.

Well I think it is has finally happened. I wasn't sure it could, but I have seen it with my own eyes. THE NFL HAS FINALLY FUCKED THE AMERICA PUBLIC TO DEATH. America is a barren wasteland of raw assholes, and bitter men my friends, and to quote Gunnery sergeant Hartman (R. Lee Ermey) in Full Metal Jacket "they (NFL Owners and Players) are the kinds of dirty sons of bitches that would fuck a man right in the ass and not have the common courtesy to give a man a reach around." I thought the league could not get any worse after that horseshit debacle of a rank fuckery and nefarious debauchery that they labeled the "Super Bowl." I mean everyone in America watched that game and knew that the fix was in. I guarantee that at least two of the refs made a ton of money betting on that game. I cannot prove it right now but I am investigating and when I find out if they bet I will try to destroy the NFL with it if I can.

With America's butt still raw and recuperating they have the audacity to have a group of spoiled millionaires arguing over who should the most millions, and threatening to kill the goose that laid the golden egg. What a bunch of fucking assholes. I have heard that they are arguing over like 4% which equals roughly 300 million dollars and that the big hurdle is revenue sharing on things like stadium naming rights, and local marketing revenue. I SAY FUCK THAT. 300 million dollars? The spoiled fucking brats (Owners and Players) should have to work and play respectively for whatever the national average minimum teachers salary is, and donate the rest to charity. That would solve the problem. I don't care about injuries, or any of that shit. You do not want a blown up ACL get a regular job. If you love the game and want to take a chance playing take the chance and play. The game would better anyway.