He didn't mean to make you cry.

I know it's been a while since I posted last and I hate this to be my first one of the new year, new home, etc, but I couldn't pass this up.

The assignment was to use the vocab words in a sentence. This is what the new kid wrote:

"Mr. Spoon was enthralled when he saw me killing people."

Yes, yes I was.

A woman needs a man, like a fish needs a bicycle

Well, I've just finished reading U2 by U2. Good book. Made me remember how much I liked U2. And good lord, can someone turn down the heat in this room? My face is melting off. It's oppressively hot in this room and makes me feel like I'm in the devil's butthole, which, sadly enough, would not be the first time I've been here.

I'm in CA now, getting ready to load up the car with stuff to take back to AZ. Just sitting. Waiting. And wearing a Fayetteville Parks and Rec shirt I bought at Goodwill a few weeks ago. It is orange, and fits me pretty well. I wish it didn't have a slight white paint mark on the left sleeve, but it works out in the end.

Seriously, it's hot in here.

For the past few nights, before I fall asleep these Bright Eyes lyrics run through my head: "There is no truth. There is only you. And what you make the truth." I haven't figured out yet if there is any truth to that statement (ignore the irony) but it certainly is something to keep an honest man looking for a lie.

It is really warm in here.

I haven't yet figured out yet if that maxim cancels itself out. I don't know that it can, but so what if it did? I'm just saying, day to day life seems a little pointless when one is wrestling questions like that, and yet all we have is day to day life. Odd, no?

Time to watch the end of Survivor. I hear the Chinaman gets voted out!

You have changed but I still feel the same...

Here is a note from a student who failed to turn in her bellwork on Friday (the work we do for the first five minutes of class):

"I don't have my bellwork becaus I forgot my notebook at home and my brother was hitting me on my head and you should feel sorry for me. So Im sorry"

This is how you remind me of who I really am

[Recently found in a notebook left in class]

I DON'T WANT TO GIVE THE IMPRESSION THAT WE PICKED AND CHOSE WHICH CHILDREN COULD COME!!!

Never going to be as big as Jesus

The following is a poem from one of my students. The actual assignment was to create a poem using an extended metaphor (remember, a metaphor is comparing two unlike things without using "like" or "as"). I have kept his formatting intact.

I Ball sky high And I try to not lie
Just like Jesus

I'm a holiday that you choose to ignore

I downloaded the new Radiohead album today. Not a bad job, gents. I must admit that it is very interesting to watch the band's progression. They are just brilliant, but this album doesn't have the raw energy an album like OK Computer had, nor does it have the ethereal feeling that Kid A had. And yet, it just feels right. Enough gushing.

I have given a lot of thought to being a writer lately. Fiction. But for the life of me, I do not think I have a mastery of the English language enough to make an impact. Is that my problem? Am I a fervent underachiever unwilling to apply himself until he knows he can succeed wildly? I read the other day that when he was young, Hunter S Thompson typed out The Great Gatsby word for word. His friends thought him pretentious and asked him why he was doing that. He replied, "I wanted to know what it would feel like to have those words come out on the paper." That has NEVER once crossed my mind and for some reason it was depressing. D said I don't have to create a brilliant work at once and that I should instead just revise something I already have. That sounds depressing to me; like I'm unable to come up with something new and have to settle for something else I've spewed out.

I wonder if that's how I'll end my life: waiting to start something.

Don't know if I blogged on this before, but there was a great article in Time about Mother Teresa losing her faith. She apparently went the last fifty years of her life without feeling God. That's a long time. Wonder how many more year's I'll have. The point is this: I'm sure Mother Teresa could have felt God if He were there. She didn't, so she found an alternative. The alternative was that He was testing her or that somehow it were for her own good. My question is this: What if she didn't feel God because He wasn't there?

I'm sure she wanted him to be there, so she could have invented him to be there but didn't. Instead she chose to wait until she could be sure it was him. And that didn't happen, apparently. I don't know. It's just weird.

D and I are going to rent. Tell the neighbors we're coming.

I'm making carne asada tonight. Should be good, judging by the amount of money I spent on food. Tomorrow D and I are going to Big Bear. I'm really looking forward to it. Not much else going on. Peace.

Don't stop believing

We were reading a story called "The Most Dangerous Game" when a question came up in my Teacher's Edition I thought I'd ask my seventh hour. The question was, "What role do you think the island will have?"

A girl from behind me and to my left said, "Gayborm."

I said, "What do you say?"

"Nothing," she said dismissively.

"Did you just say 'gay porn'?"

Everyone laughed and through her tears of laughter, she said, "No. Gameboard."

So now in case you hear differently, it was me who brought up gay porn in the classroom.

Stuck inside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again

As I was importing "Please Hammer, Don't Hurt 'Em" into my iTunes, it struck me that I needed to blog a little ditty about some things.

First, I'm very glad that we asked Hammer kindly to not hurt 'em; who knows what would have happened if we hadn't?

Second, living 375 miles away from my wife was not a great idea. Sure, "it sucks now but it makes sense for what we're doing now," but seriously, not a great way to get closer. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that jazz, but if that were true, no one would live with each other. We'd all just move to our own Indios and hide and write love letters to each other. But we don't.

Third, Two Jehovah's Witnesses came to the door the other day. I had a nice little chat with them and now I'm thinking of converting. Oh wait, coming to my door and telling me I'm wrong about everything DOESN'T change my mind. On that note, my favorite bit of dialogue with them went like this:

Her: So you know the world is getting worse, right? What do you think about that?
Me: I don't think it's getting worse
Her: Well the Bible says it is. Look here at Jesus' words in Matthew blah blah blah where he says, "Nation will rise against nation." What do you think Jesus and his disciples were talking about?
Me: When he thought the world would end.
Her: And don't you think he's talking about now?
Me: No.
Her: Really? You don't?
Me: No. Because people have always been fighting.
Her: But you don't think it's getting worse?
Me: No.
Her: Well, we know reality says differently.

Which made me mad. But what am I going to do? I'm going to hell, according to her, so why would the opinion of one heretic change how reality operates? All that to say, if Random Female Asian Jehovah's Witness is reading, I'm sorry. I don't really care what you had to say, but what can you expect from a heathen. If quiet Female White Companion of Random Female Asian Jehovah's Witness is reading, what were your thoughts on the conversation? How did you think it went? Am I now:
a) Closer to heaven
b) Farther from heaven
c) Still on the fence
d) Future unclear; potential convert used logic entirely different than what they prepared us for in Sunday School.

Please send your remarks as soon as possible to me. My eternity is at stake!

In other news, D and I hiked Garcia Trail today. It was hard.

Well, that's all for now. I already made it through The Wallflowers and am now onto Pearl Jam. Keep up the good work.

one nation controlled by the media

It's time to write. I've been working for just over three weeks in the classroom and am happy to report nothing bad has happened. Kicked out a couple of kids, given a few detentions, and faithfully covered some curriculum too.

I wonder if teaching high school freshman will make me stupid. I was fascinated by the Mother Theresa article in Time recently where her letters to her confessor were published. She admits to more than 50 years wondering if God was distant from her. It got me really excited about reading and writing about religion and I wonder how long it will take that spark to grow into a fire. Oh wait, every spark of friendship and love will die without a home. Meh.

I don't have much else going on in my life. I still find the idea of God interesting but have also felt a certain emptiness that is interesting as well. Death no longer scares me. Maybe it's a phase, but lying in bed listening to my heartbeat wondering if it will stop is now a game, not a fear.

I want to write something substantial. I have no idea what that would be. I want to submit my words to a process that might end up with their destruction although at this point I'm not sure if I want to put the work into it. That's what an underachiever gets: nothing.

Who here among us still believes in choice? Not I.

So hurt me, so hurt me, so hurt me...

So I'm moving to Arizona tomorrow, without my best friend, confidant, and lover. What a crappy situation this is. I can't help feeling like maybe if I play my cards straight and pay attention in class that I won't get this punishment. Am I sad? Yes. But it's very odd being sad for the future when it hasn't happened yet. Anticipatory sadness, what a lovely feeling brewing in my bones.

Speaking of bones, I'm watching a documentary on Bukowski. What an interesting gentleman. He makes me want to smoke and/or be an alcoholic. Neither of which I am. But he brings such a sensibility to self-destruction, as though it were the only way to pure truth. And maybe it is. I've never destructed, so who am I to say? Or have I? Who would know? Enough existentialism, let's get on to the movies!

I've joined Hollywood Video's super happy fun club or whatever that let's me get three movies at any time. So I've seen a lot of movies in the past few days. Highlight? Idiocracy, oddly enough. Lowlight? Miami Vice. Nothing happened in the whole movie! It was like the celluloid equivalent of a Nickelback CD. So I spit in it's general direction.

Speaking of nothing happening, I have noticed my train of thought derailing so, kiss my grits. I'm out.

I want a lover I don't have to love

Bright Eyes. Lest someone is concerned I'm actually shopping for lovers...

It has been an odd time. I have changed jobs and am now a high school English teacher, or, what I set out to be 8 years ago when I left high school. Maybe now I will walk the halls with pride.

The oddest part about having a significant event take place in my life is my propensity to dwell on it when I'm alone. It's not when I'm with others, only when I'm alone. Like falling asleep. Which I'm fairly certain is the most lonely part of the day. Sleep is starting to bewilder me, and dreams are even more bizarre. Does anyone else notice that we willingly submit to lose control of our conscious minds for 8 hours at a time? Every day? And we don't have an option in the matter? I'm just saying, I'm not getting any 666 tattoo until that whole thing is explained to me.

It has also occurred to me that this blog is on the internet for everyone to see. So I've taken the precaution to edit it appropriately. I apologize to those who were hoping for a direct feed into my brain (which I'm assuming from the number of people who read this will only be me, 5 years from now); it's too late. The feed has been interrupted; all you get now is the ABC, NBC, CBS bullshit (Bright Eyes again).

I went rafting a couple of weeks ago. I had never done that before. It was great. What made it great was the company (Stephen, Dad, and Adam) and the fact that I had to sign a waiver saying I wouldn't sue if I died. Hilarious! A piece of paper versus the end of life. And the paper wins! Anyway, the fear of death was enough to validate my manhood (or just the part of it that wants to stare death in the face and see itself in the reflection) and make me feel good. And now on to Arizona. So take that world.

Not much else. Packing to move. The accumulation of goods is mystifying and after someone explains sleep to me, maybe they can explain the tendency of humans to gain "things." I digress.

Heaven knows I'm miserable now

http://www.travbuddy.com/widget_map_display.php?id=798545

And don't think I won't catch you, either.

Not a whole lot else is new. I scheduled to have an interview with the associate dean and the provost in a few weeks in regards to teaching FWS in the fall. That would be really cool and I'm stoked that it might happen.

I am pretty bored right now. Not sure what causes that, but I imagine that lack of intellectual stimulation is the main reason we don't speak Latin now. I just yawned. Now I'm even boring myself. I wish I could just leave my body and go swimming or something and then come back and rejoin myself in an hour or so. Speaking of which, I did finish Palahniuk's Rant recently. Great read. I want to see it in a movie but will probably have to wait at least until Choke comes out.

Go team.

Blame it on the Tetons

Things suck right now. I can't really go into details yet but it does involve losing a best friend. That sucks.

We did go to the Arcade Fire's Neon Bible concert last Wednesday. It was phenomenal. They started their concert with this video. It was great.

I love the sound of you walking away, you walking away

I now have my masters degree. What a thing. And my parents sent me a basket full of treats for my accomplishments. I feel sick right now, not from eating them, but from not eating them. The preceding statement was entirely false.

I'm at work, ready to go home and not sure if I should stick around or not. I got here early so I could leave early but 20 minutes early? Seems a little ambitious. Or not. Whatever. I'm out.

Is that me, baby, or just a brilliant disguise?

Tomorrow I present my thesis. And by present, I mean defend. Not sure what that means but I think it means that they will mercilessly attack my sources, ideas, and points of view. Or whatever. I guess I'm nervous enough about it to talk about it but I don't think it's a very big thing.

Tried to see the Arcade Fire performance on iTunes. Downloaded the February 24 SNL episode they were on but wouldn't you know it, their performance wasn't included. That doesn't make a lot of sense to me especially because it comes up in the search window in iTunes. Crap on everybody.

So I guess that's about it. We're going camping this weekend with Geoff and Kyle, and Casey and Tim. It should be a good time. I'm looking forward to sitting on the beach and just letting the sun cook my carcass. Well, enough for now. See you all later.

If you hate the taste of wine, why do you drink it all the time?

I have finished my masters thesis and will be defending it next week. I'm not sure what the defense looks like, but I'm sure it'll be a rip-roaring time, full of heady things like, "So, did you read this book?" And I'll say, "Read it? I feel like I wrote it!" And then we'll all have a good chuckle and go out for beers. Or tea. Or whatever it is scholarly people do.

The DATH cancelled their shows out here last week. It was sad. We have gone to Bright Eyes, Modest Mouse, and in a few weeks we'll see The Arcade Fire. I wanted to see all these bands this year, I just didn't know it would happen in the month of May. Oh well. Yes mom, I'll wear earplugs. But only because I heard that's how marijuana smoke is inhaled.

Work is okay. I officially started a list of things I want to do before I leave and anytime I am distracted, I look at the list and refocus myself. So far, it works pretty good. Except for right now. But this doesn't count. This is my fifteen minute morning break. Speaking of mornings, I have been sleeping oddly lately. Tired all day, sleeping for 8-9 hours a night, and only really energetic for the 3 minutes after I shower but before I put on pants. What can be the cause of this nonsense?

Speaking of nonsense, I've gotten into watching movies lately. Here's the list for the month of May:
Borat
Close Encounters of the Third Kind
Lucky Number Slevin
Logan's Run
The General
Casino Royale
Rocky Balboa
Rebel Without a Cause
Raging Bull

And a few more, I think, that I can't remember. I like the Scorsese. Uhh, that's about it for now. Some day soon I'll have "a single thought, the least bit legitimate enough."

Polly wants a cracker

I'm usually not too affected by current events, and I'm not even sure if I am now, but yesterday on NPR they were interviewing a kid who survived the shootings at VA Tech. He described how he instantly fell to the floor and hid behind a desk while the shooter shot people around him. Apparently the shooter reloaded three times and didn't shoot this kid. He doesn't know why.

Anyway, while the shooter was shooting, this kid and the girl next to him on the floor kept their eyes locked on each other "trying to stay human." He and this girl had never really talked and he didn't know her name (she would get shot in the back and apparently survive) but he still knew that he needed to stay human. I don't know what it means, but it resonates strongly with me. He didn't say stay alive, he said "stay human." As though that was what was at stake, not life or death. Very interesting.

Fire it up

I'm watching COPS right now. There is a white woman who looks like she has a beard and there are some other people barbecuing a giant steak and now a skinny white cop is yelling to beard lady, "Give me your ID! How hard is that to understand?" Good times.

Love me the COPS. Not sure how it all fits together, but Lord knows it's connected to the rest of us. Today I hung a picture of Hunter S Thompson on my office wall. I am wondering how long it's going to be before someone says something. Not sure that there are any people in there who know what he stood for. I don't know if I know what he stood for, but there is something about his persona that is engaging. A very compelling man, he is.

We moved into a smaller office yesterday. There is a wall between Wayne and I now. Literally, I mean. Figuratively is up for discussion.

Pretty sad still. Don't know why. The war? Doubt it, but it plays well with the liberals. Lack of prayer in schools? Doubtful, but it plays well with the conservatives. I wonder if some of my problem is that I believe that my life is a narrative, when in fact it very well could be the paper the narrative is written on. Let me try again: I feel that if I somehow pull myself out of space and time and observe with a scientist's/poet's/bohemian's eye it would make sense. But what if it didn't (or isn't supposed to)? What if from my imagined vantage point there was the same amount of confusion as from here and instead of an anthill (which, though chaotic, has purpose), it looked like an anthill on fire, with every ant and reason purposed for survival and that was it? And the ants didn't like the thought of dying for no purpose and created God and family and love? That would be a reason to be sad.

For a minute there, I lost myself.

Not much chance of survival if the neon Bible is right...

I just noticed I said I would have a master's degree in March in my previous post. That was a lie. I will have a master's degree in May.

I had an odd thought the other day and that was this: I want to write letters to the me from five years ago with bits of advice. Then I realized all this would be was me trying to sound smart and tell myself everything I know now but didn't then, and to what end would that be? So I can think about either how stupid I was then or how smart I am now or how nothing is going to change in the past? Silly. I'm not old enough to worry about the past. I'll leave that until I am sitting in a rocking chair and cussing at kids.

I leave for Mexico in just over a week. Bizarre, knowing that it will probably be my last trip to Mexicali. Right now, I can only see to the next day because anything past that seems like its too far in the future and I'll never get there. Fatalistic? Of course. Who can see anything else?

And the thought that in a few billion years every single molecule in the universe will have eventually moved so far away from each other that they literally stop moving and fall apart. Matter will cease to exist. That's enough of a reason to be a nihilist. And I haven't found a compelling reason not to be...