The End . . . probably

For now, I think this blog is done.  It has been a good run, but when I can’t even come up with a simple statement for 3 months, I think it is time to give it up.  I won’t rule out coming back.  But for now, it seems unlikely.

Thank you to the friends who have remained.  I’ll still try to peek in from time to time.

-Mike

Well, I’m published . . . sorta . . .

The Bastards Club is a go. 

After years of trying, I have decided to go with self-publishing through Amazon.com.  Amazon now allows authors to publish their books in a Kindle version for free. 

I’m not sure how I feel about it yet.  Part of me is sad that I couldn’t get a traditional contract, but mostly I’m excited to see if anything comes of it. 

What is weird is, I haven’t even looked at this thing for over 2 years.  Or is it 3?  I don’t remember all the bits and pieces, and I REALLY don’t remember all the edits I did a few years ago.  It might be interesting to take a look at it again.

But, I don’t have a Kindle, so I’d have to read it on my computer.   Oh well.

 

Hope everyone is well.

I have been out of the world for a bit . . .

… and I don’t even know why.

The semester is nearly half over.  I have been doing my best to correct mistakes I’ve made in the past.  I still haven’t quite gotten everything smoothed over.  But I’m close.

This semester feels different.  We’re coming up towards midterms, but I’m getting the same feeling I get towards the end of a semester.  In a few days, all my classes will start reading Walden in the hopes that something will penetrate their brains.  And maybe mine. 

I have a roommate now.  Still don’t know how I feel about it.  She’s nice enough, but she tends to use people without realizing it.  She doesn’t have a car, so I have occasionally been called to provide her with rides here and there.  Today she asked me about moving a friend of hers in with us.  I told her “no”.  The only reason she is living here is because my cousin asked me to let her move in.  I trust my cousin.  I do not trust my roommate, and I certainly do not trust her friends.  I’ve never even met them.  I have nothing against living with two girls.  But not if I don’t know them.  That’s just the way I am.

I keep trying to write.  But I’ve had so little time lately.  After next week, I’ll have more time, hopefully I’ll get back to it.  I’m not doing my part-time waiter gig anymore, since the cafe now has new ownership.  But I still get to do my writing and grading there, so I’m fairly happy. 

Now if I could just get rid of this damn eye-twitch.

Starting up again.

Hi everybody.  If there is anybody still out there.

School starts on Monday.  I think I’m ready.  I’ve been playing musical offices, and I hope I get to stay where I’m at for awhile.  I’m just glad to be out of what was going to be my office . . . I don’t wanna share a closet with 5 other people.

The meetings were, quite simply, a waste of time.  We were told, numerous times, how long he (the guy in charge) had been teaching (15 years), how much he loves rhetoric, how dedicated we’re supposed to be, and that he’s our immediate boss.

I refrained from responding that I’ve been teaching for 8 years, I go to the head of the department, and I’m among the group that really resented being talked down to.  He managed to overstep his bounds, insult all of the lecturers and most of us long-term adjuncts, and the intelligence of all who showed up actually hoping for help and professionalism.  When there is a 4 hour meeting, 4 days in a row, and each day is dedicated to a particular topic, the first half of each meeting should not be completely off topic.  I showed up because I wanted to learn what I needed on my syllabi, how I could help ELL students, improved grading techniques, and what was new on campus. 

I still don’t know what we talked about.  But none of those things were brought up.

But, anyway, I’ve got everything ready to go.  I have my stuff scheduled, I have lessons planned . . . ish, and I’m ready to read Walden with my students.  I’m on a bit of a Crusade to reintroduce some of the real works of cross-generational literature to students.  Not as literature, but as a starting place for thought, research, and perspective.  I hope it works.

Anyway, that’s about all that is new.  Still no women, still no publisher, still no money.  But I continue.

Busy busy time.

Ugh.  Summer’s almost over, and I am only halfway through writing my novel  

But that’s ok.  I can still work on it

I’ve taken on a second job, working in a coffeeshop for a few hours a week.  It isn’t much, but every little bit helps.  Not sure how long the job will last.

I’ve mostly gotten out of those meetings I talked about last time.  I have to work

I’m spending too much time online, but what else am I supposed to do when it is freaking hot outside?

I get to see my nephews tomorrow.  Still not sure why, when I first hear that my sister’s family is down visiting, I feel like I have some sort of obligation to go out and see them all.  I like playing with the boys.  I enjoy myself.  But there is still, always, this gut reaction.  And I know, I don’t need to go out there.  But I want to.  I just wish I didn’t feel like I HAD to.

I wonder how much different my life would be if I lived hundreds of miles away and only saw my family once or twice a year.

Bullshit

I have been teaching composition for most of a decade.  I have been here longer than several of the full professors.  I am good at my job, I know how to do it, and I know how to change what needs changing.

 

But about 3 years ago, we added an “expert” to the department.  He has a doctorate in composition theory.  Which means, as far as I can tell, that he can name-drop with the best of them.  I attended one of his little mid-semester work sessions and spent the entire time watching him and two other teachers (one who taught me composition theory as part of my masters program and the other who likes to kiss up to whoever she can) have a “name that theorist” competition.  I was sitting next to the head of the department, and I leaned over to her and whispered “I have no idea what they are talking about.”  Her reply? “Neither do I.”

 

Essentially, this man is an over-educated fool.  He is one of those academics who takes himself WAY too seriously and even dresses in what I would call “English Professor Stereotype Chic”: the same worn-out tweed jacket every day, coffeecup glued to his hand, stench of stale cigarettes trailing after him . . .

 

And what does he want to do to get the semester off right?  He wants to spend 16 hours teaching us what we already know.

 

16 HOURS!!!  On how to create assignments, write up a syllabus, gain “Classroom Control”, and wipe our asses for all I know.

 

Strange that he wants to take 16 hours to go over something that I was taught in about 2 hours when I started my Teaching Assistantship. 

 

Create assignments?  I already have mine ready.

Write a syllabus? I use the same one every year.

Gain classroom control? I’ve never lost classroom control.

 

The problems our department faces are a shortage of ESL teachers.  According to his schedule, he wants to spend about 10 minutes on that. 

 

And, to top it all off, he put in his note that these are not optional and our future employment may depend on attending.  Well, sorry bub, but I just got another part-time job, and may well be working afternoons at that point.  Want me to show up for these bullshit sessions?  Hire me full-time.

Why is it on my shoulders?

Why is it that, when politics come up, I have to be the one to tollerate the opinion I disagree with?  Particularly when they will neither tollerate nor respect my opinions?  Why do I have to respect the rights of racists, right-wing whack jobs, haters, and people who justify their intollerance through religion?  Why do I have to be the one to look past those things, and try to make peace?

I am getting so tired of this.  I’m getting tired of my views being dismissed.  I’m tired of having to be reasonable and understanding. 

Or, maybe, I shouldn’t discuss politics when I’ve let my blood-sugar drop.

…tha hell?

Where have I gone?  Really, I didn’t intend to disappear for 2 weeks.  It’s just been a busy time.  Today, I held my very first ever yard-sale.  Didn’t make much, but that’s ok.  The goal was to get rid of stuff, and we did that! (My parents brought stuff in, too)

I’ve been writing quite a bit lately.  The Priest story is coming along quite well.  I’m slightly tempted to finish writing the letters and journal, then writing a novel around them, but I want to see how this first stage comes out before I worry about that too much.  I have a good feeling about this one.

Today was the annual spandex-stretching contest known as the Cruise Nite Car Show.  And it is PATHETIC!  Half the cars were made in the last 2-3 years!  I don’t want to look at some punk kid’s toy car.  I want to see those cars that someone has poured their heart into, maybe one that has a family story behind it. 

I’m wondering if I should start going to bars by myself.  I hate to drink alone, but I need to get out more.

Happy Sulfur Week

Ahh, the crack of the explosion, the bright lights, the children laughing with delight.  Sounds like the 4th of July, right?  Well, around here, it has been every night for the past week.  I guess they relaxed the city ordinance on fireworks.  Usually, they at least have to wait for July to start selling.  I don’t mind the bangs.  But the smell is getting annoying.  That slight brimstone odor kind of lingers along the streets when I’m walking around.  Blech

The house is . . . I guess nearly done.  I don’t have at-home internet right now, since the roofers started up the day after I got my antennae put on the roof, and they had to take it down yesterday.  So, I probably won’t be hooked back up until next week . . . depending on if they are really done or not.

They have one guy on their crew who I imagine has been fired off of every crew he has ever worked on.  Not because of the work, but because he simply is an asshole.  I don’t even work with them and I’ve been tempted to throw him off the roof . Literally. 

This should all be over soon.  Then, just when it gets hot again, I can start mowing the lawn and trying to undo the damage to the yards these crews have caused.  I hope they plan on taking away the old gutters.

I’m in my backup coffee place.  My normal one is closed for a long weekend, which I suppose they deserve.  So, here I am, in a tented outdoor patio (that would normally have been untented by now) with two teenagers who are messaging each other on facebook . . . side by side.

Guess I’ve done something like that before, but I was in a different room of the same house.

The House that Jack Built

Some of you may know, I’m housesitting.  The house is about 120 years old (or so), and I’m taking care of it for now, since the owners aren’t quite ready to retire yet.  It’s pretty cool, except at night when I’ve watched a Ghost-Hunters type show (which I can’t now that I’ve cut off cable).

Anyway, the house is getting some repairs.  Namely, a new front porch and new shingles on the roof.  Which means, the internet antennae I just had put up will have to come down for a bit.  I don’t really know how long it takes for a roof to be redone.  The only ones I’ve worked on were just me and my dad, and neither of us is a professional.  Nor did we have the fancy roofing toys.  Like pitchforks.

So, I have been driven out, sorta.  It is loud at the house, and I’m trying to write, so I have escaped down to the coffeeshop.  But, it is coming up on 4 hours now, and I am bored out of my teeny-tiny skull!  I’ve written on my summer book project, I’ve blogged (well, am blogging . . . whatever), and now I’m hungry and grumpy. 

And my back keeps tweaking out on me.  I hurt it bad in October, and it still doesn’t like me sometimes. 

Just wanted everyone to know, I’m still out there