ON ACCEPTING THE FRENCH IDEA OF GENIUS:

Someone should tell me.

I thought I had a cavity, but it turns out I have been clenching my teeth in frustration SO HARD that I shifted my bite and bruised my nerve/ligaments. Funny. I don't remember doing that, but now that I know I do it, I've started noticing when I clench my jaw. Dr. Joan filed my teeth down so that they don't hit so hard anymore. LAME. I am lame.

I went in for a filling and came out with a diagnosis of "crazytown."

For your amusement, TODO:
-grade 35 more papers
-carve punkins
-make punkin seeds
-fix costume
-clean house
-prep class
-get halloween partied up
-stop kids from freaking out
-conferences
-make food for party
-try to enjoy myself

BLURGH! I can't sleep.

In semi-related news someone sent me an article called "8 ways to deal with your bipolar partner." I sent it to Roy. He laughed and said he knew how to deal with me, and there was only one way, it was: "Act like a dick." I told him I admired his consistency.
And then I kicked him, pinched Dave and bit the dog.

SUCKSTOTHEWORLD!

nataliedee.com

But it's students, and papers, and frustrations.

So, I'll take a Twilight Quiz.




Hmmm. Well. Here's the thing, if I were a character from said crap book, I would most definitely be Jacob Black, because:
a) Native American
b) boy
c) Werewolf
d) Hates stupid Twilight vampires!

However, I am:
a) not a pedophile
b) not a whiney pussy in love with a semi-retarded sack of clutzy drama queen (I hate Bella's character so much)
c) completely irritated by every character in the book.

So, If I were a character from said crap book, I'd be Paul because he's pissy and he hates stupid Bella and stupid Edward.

---

I think I'm gonna go play an escape game (escape games as escapism...oh ho! Cleva.)

Oh, Monica, Thank you!


I may in fact be dead with loveliness:



( Click for Lyrics )

I cannot tell you how much JPL and I love escape games, especially minoto's escape games.

Today's game, called "Alien Child" gave me this message at the end:

Stray child's space alien
It got on UFO. It returned to whereabouts.
The word was not able to be understood so much.
I thought that it had said at the end, Goodbye.
Coming some time to the earth to play is good.

How great is that?
That's fucking poetry.
"The word was not able to be understood so much."

Oh, is it ever, Alien Child? Is it ever?

Dear pals,

Long time no write. Ah, the LJ grows smaller and smaller. I should keep up, I know. What a semester; it is eating my brain and time. I am trying a few new experimental papers this semester and it is taking more time than expected. Also, 80 101 students will never, ever be easy for me. I have changed my grading rubric/grade sheet to make it more teacher friendly, but it still takes too long to grade these papers. That and I'm having trouble getting started. A pile of 80 papers in brightly colored folders has been staring at me for a week. I haven't looked at one. I am finding all sorts of excuses for putting them off.

Some of my favorites:

1. Sex (why not?)- the 13th was our 8th wedding anniversary. I assume the traditional gift for the 8th is something like, um, humping. Unfortunately we had a reading that night at school and saved our anniversaring until later in the week. Our lovely roommate even went out of town for the night so he wouldn't have to hear it...he's squeamish. The sux, however, is that because I have to have a little procedure (minor) done in the next month, we have to be superprecotious about the baby making, so...well, we went through the free condoms from last years HIV awareness day, and I had to go buy some. I got the fancy variety pack.

2. I'm researching (why not?)- yes, my recent crush on Carl Sagan is actually part of a researching push. Why Carl Sagan? Well, because I like his voice and he says things that make me want to squee like "We're all part of the cosmic ocean." And "everything is composed of starstuff." He did a special on Mars called "Blues for a Red Planet" and it killed me...killed me. I may actually be dead.

3. Too many interesting things in the world- television, books, sunshine, apples, dogs, good smells.

4. Too many thoughts to think- about things like frailty and affection and dreamt selves.

5. Too many dreams (speaking of dreams)- I know, I know, "This never happened." I went to SF to meet erraticrabbit who had suddenly and unexpectedly decided she was a lesbian, and felt like marching in a parade. I was there as pretend girlfriend to ward off unwanted advances from fellow marchers. Why me, I thought? Then someone in the crowd came up to me and said "You're a pretty boy. Don't you know it? I bet you pass as a woman all the time." And I thought, "What?!!!!" Hmmmm. Later in this very divergant dream, I was teaching Dave to dance in an abandoned underground movie theater in France. And we talked about frailty, I said, "Sometimes we should show our weakenesses to the people we love, how else will they ever get the chance to prove love to us? When else can they take care of us? Maybe being confident, and being able to handle things on our own is sometimes cruel? It must be." I agree with dream me, no matter what gender dream me might be; strength is lovely, but we show it to everyone--weakness, on the otherhand, only a few are priviledged to see, and far fewer are permitted to touch/heal. I should remember that.

6. I got a chapbook, woot! I'm in celebration mode. Fuck it! And I received my book blurb...which is strangely gorgeous. The chapbook is entitled "Ritual no.3: For the Exorcism of Ghosts." And the judge, Kwame Dawes, said some very nice things about my work. He said the poems were erotic (in the greek sense), obsessed with death, and still funny. I think they are funny. Oh, we're all hilariously tragic.

7. It's fucking cold. I moved to get away from the fucking cold and my fingers are freezing. I've noticed that when my hands are cold my typing is much worse. What's with that? My hands are really cold right now, and it is taking much longer to type this than is necessary.

8. I don't need pampering, but here's what I want: tea, a massage, (that's a good start), warm loveliness, maybe a sauna, a swim, someone to wash my hair, acupuncture, hot towels, sushi, a pedicure, TIME. Why do some people get these things? I am a small boyish girl with a pile of papers looming in my future, with a ton of things I both need and want to do. SOmewhere someone without a thought in their head has their desires handed to them, all those things I want, unearned (although I have not earned them either), unappreciated (that I would do, I would appreciate the fuck out of them), and why? Because they are born into something? Fate? Karma? Maybe. Because suffering causes thought and art and beauty? Maybe. If so, let me be shallow and undeserving for a day. Just a day. Ah, who am I kidding? If I had time and money to do these things I wouldn't, because I'd feel guilty. Guilt is the foundational emotion of all of my comings and goings. Without guilt, I would not be me. Without guilt, I wouldn't fret over the 8 bucks I just spent to finish my halloween costume. Or worry over the fact that tonight is leftover night. And that, my pals, just would not be me.

Love,
M

P.S. Happy Wedding, CareyG! (no more CareyD for you)
P.P.S. Congrats, Ms. Dragon, you are landed gentry. I'm proud of you.
P.P.P.S. Rabbit, I miss you. I have presents.
P.P.P.P.S. Vick, I miss you too. I have presents.
P.P.P.P.P.S. Everyone else, I think of you too. It's just starting to feel like fall here, and you know fall=nostagia.

How cute is this guy? Do you see him? He didn't hide very well. As I exited my jeep, groceries in hand I was all..."Well, hello! How are you doing Mr. Snake? I trust you are keeping my yard free from creepy crawlies. If so, carry on, and keep up the good work. I'll remind people not to poke at you, and to keep Bruce away. What sort of snake are you?"

So I went down my mental snake list: no rattle (check), no markings for other poisonous snakes (check), basic brown stripey snake (check), too small to be a threat (check)...fine by me. It's a garter snake, of course, although a fairly big one in my experience. He's about 2 feet long, and that's on the "damn" end of the spectrum for a garter snake. The ones I've seen/stepped on in the past have been around 1/2 foot shorter. So, I'll keep him. At the very least he's some evidence that there aren't many (if any) really big guys hanging around outside. He is hanging out underneath the azaleas in a prime snake-smorgasbord location: birds hang out there, so do lizards and skinks. There are plenty of bugs scrambling through the underbrush as well. My bet is he's munchin on skinks...I would. And I'm very happy that he's selected an out of the way place to be. He's not IN my garden, or near a Bruce stomping ground. What a very repsectful snake. I suspect that he's probebly been dislocated by some recent tree and brush removal in the neighbor's yard. Poor little fella.

I swear my yard is like the mutual of omaha wild kingdom, or it's like that microcosmos movie.

Some other things I witness quite frequently:
-birds of all kinds including some fancy magnolia warblers, piliated woodpeckers and some sort of parrot thing
-squirrel invasions
-cicadias
-crazy giant beetles of allsorts
-skinks
-lizards
-praying manti (-isi? -ses?)
-butterflies and moths
-nightmarish worms (seriously, some hammerheaded predator worms that look like tiny snakes)
-roaches of allsorts
-centipedes and millipedes (huge!)
-bees and wasps of all varieties
-random dogs and cats
-bats

Things others have seen, but I have not:
-a deer
-a rabbit or two
-a fox thing

Things up the road:
-horses...goddamn horses, always with the goddamn horses!



If I had a chicken would the snake try to eat it? Hmm...I want a chicken.

superpoop.com

If the video doesn't imbed (seems to be having an on and off issue today) here's the link: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1215240/James-Dean-lives-New-Allan-Gray-advert-gives-original-rebel-cause.html
(totally worth a look)


My first reaction: offended. As an eternal fan of James Dean, I am a bit miffed to see him raised from the dead to help garner recognition for a South African Investment firm.
My second reaction: my heart is breaking.

"Given more time, imagine the possibilities."

For fuck's sake. One of the last things I needed to see/hear today, as I'm sitting in my freezing cold office (it's hot outside, so the AC is cranked through the roof here at school), within eyeshot of a stack of portfolios almost 2 feet deep...and nary a one graded. It is overcast. I am annoyed. I want to sleep. I have a billion things to complete this week. My brain is being pulled in all directions: home/school/work/obligations/fascinations. Given more time, imagine the possiblities.

In honor of my no-time-having self, my todo lists:

Today:
prep 101
teach 10am
teach 11am
create discussion board for 06/08 sections
post Stephen King essay to all sections
update and reorganize course docs on blackboard
post power point on word choice to all sections
waste time by bitching about todo lists on LJ
grade 10 portfolios
do dishes
clean kitchen
walk dog (park??)--didn't happen.
grocery store
make dinner
wash jeans/towels
fold jeans/towels-put away
submission list/database update
ready submissions for 5 contests (find checkbook?)
shower
breathe
grade blackboard postings TR
check email for student issues
I guess if I don't do them I move them forward?

Tomorrow:
submissions in mail
complete proposal(s) for App Studies Conference
10 portfolios
check email for student issues
prep 101
teach 1:40
teach 3:05
prep MWF
Ketner lecture 6 pm
watch Project Runway
ready chapbook submissons
sleep

Friday:
Proposal(s) due App Studies Conf
prep 101
teach 10
teach 11
Blackboard postings for weekend
15 portfolios??
chapbook submssions in mail
ready more mms subs for Sat mailing
Zombie conference proposal
make dinner
gather notes for monday ethos/logos/pathos workshop at 1

Sat:
submissions
portfolios
presskit for roy, upcoming writers/book fests

Sun:
submissions
portfolios

I WANT to do the following things, but believe I might be nuts:
update squeefinity (I have 5 updates, but need to work on them before I post them)
start on invites/todolists for halloween
figure out if there is a way to get away for R and I's anniversary
start narrowing down poems for SAMLA presentation
get some things out to some people
finish my draw-a-cup
record some Blood+
work on fixing that quilt
work on some poems
write a bit

Things I need: time, James Dean, a massage, and (right now) something to eat.

First Taylor Swift, and now this?

Milk is Magic!!!

"It worried when confined in the place
where the bear was a cage ..the desire...
It was different. Here is bear's house.
The bear relaxes in the bed."

This is the message I recieved at the end of this easy little escape game: Bear in Cage by Minoto.
I love these adorable little escape games. Plus when I win...ENGRISH! (The graphics are superkawaii like hello kitty.)

JPL and I LOVE escape games...it's the one thing we totally have in common (that and our love of wolves, fairy tales and seksi mens). ESCAPE GAMES!

Addiction is no laughing matter. Go play the game.

superpoop.com

They like Ayn Rand.
They are really Republicans, only they want to legalize pot.

And then they wonder why people don't like them.

1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Yummy coffee

2.Where was your profile picture taken?
Office

3.Can you play Guitar Hero?
Fuck yeah!

4.Name someone who made you laugh today?
Karl, by asking me if Amazon made ridiculous recommendations for me. I believe that Amazon thinks I’m a 42 year old male pedophile and a shut in.


5.How late did you stay up last night and why?
Project Runway...later than I should.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Yes. I like our rental house, but I want something that is just ours. I do love it in SC, though it is strange to suddenly be south of Appalachia when I’ve lived so much of my life north of it.

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
Yes. But more interestingly, I have also spent many Fourths of Julys in the cemetery, watching the fireworks above the Columbus Skyline from about 20 miles away.

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you?
Dave...in the extra room.

9. Do you believe ex's can be friends?
It would depend on the ex. In fact, I feel a bit sad that Andy and I aren’t friends. He sort of disappeared. I occasionally try to find him on the interweb, but to no avail.

10. How do you feel about Dr Pepper?
Prunes

11. When was the last time you cried really hard?
I get the crazies. I cry for no reason.

12. Who took your profile picture?
huh?

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Bruce

14. Was yesterday better than the day before yesterday?
It never is...distance is a balm.

15. Can you live a day without TV?
Why?

16. Are you upset about anything?
Usually.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Absolutely...unless they aren’t.

18. Are you a bad influence?
Absolutely.

19. Night out or night in?
It depends on the night, but I am a homebody.

20. What items could you not go without during the day?
Is sleep an item?

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
I can’t remember. No one for a long time.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?
I’m going to do hotmail instead of inbox, so...”We’ve received Coraline.”

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
I need a nap.

24. Do you hate anyone?
Me, no. Why?

25. If we were to look in your face book in box, what would we find?
Stuff I’ve been ignoring.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Absolutely. I am clean as a whistle. What does that phrase mean though? I understand wanting a whistle to be clean, but it still seems like a strange idiom. Plus, what’s the adverse? I’m dirty as a whistle shoved up a pig’s butt? I hope not.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Creepy. Perfect people are made of robot parts. I don’t have a single robot part.

28. What song is stuck in your head?
“Can you practice what you preach, can you turn the other cheek.” Where is the LOVE?

29. Someone knocks on your window at 2:00 a.m., who do you want it to be?
Someone who I can take down in a fight to the death. Someone who isn’t a clown. Someone I don’t mind giving me the uncle feely hands.

30.Wanna have grandkids by the time your 50?
God, no. If I had a kid right now and wanted grand kids at 50 then my children would be teenage parents...not cool.

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow?
Grade stuff. Sleep in. Make foods.

32. Do you think too much or too little?
I am an agonizer, and a very small animal. TURN OFF BRAIN!!

33. Do you smile a lot?
Yes. I also laugh a lot. I didn’t realize how much I laugh in comparison to other people until recently. Some of my students say they can recognize my laugh from down the hallway. Does that mean I have a weird laugh? Roy says “That is not the laugh of a nun, it is the laugh of a whore.” So, YES. I smile a lot, and I laugh like a whore...maybe even a crack whore.

Okay FIVE things.

1. There were physically not enough hours in the school week for me to meet with all of the Freshman Comp students who signed up for conferences with me. Today I did 38 conferences. My bad math says: 38 x 15= 9 and 1/2 hours of me talking to students. The good news...no one wasted my time. Mostly because I threatened their lives and guilted them. I mean it's not like I get paid more for this. I just hope that somewhere in the cosmic tally I am compiling some sort of universal karma equivalent of Carbon Credits. I certainly need something to offset the occasional evil which takes over.

2. New stove. The last one kaboomered, and the new stove (thank you landlady and honeydew) is approximately late 80s to mid 90s...it has a digital clock. A DIGITAL CLOCK! This is the newest stove in the history of rental properties. Now, if only it was a gas stove. I guess we can't have everything though.

3. I am a horrible speller. HORRIBLE. I am wholly embarassed by my spelling.

4. I just bought an assload of post cards off of the ebay. For those of you who need an assload to arabic numeral translation, one assload of postcards is roughly equivalent to 213. Some of them are the most awesomely awesome postcards ever...one of people scrubbing the street in Holland Michigan. WTF? Awesome! I am in the process of artprojekting them. And, with my new fabu scanner/faxer/copier/printer (courtesy of Target...at a fucking 28.00 that's right 28 motherfucking dollars...I AM A GODDESS OF THE DEAL!!!), I am able to scan and post them. HOORAYS! In other art projekt news. D got bored today and bought presents from Hobby Lobby. Funtastic things! FUNTASTIC! Buttons, and playdough, and some cups that you snap your own drawrings into...my cup will feature man on man action. Ah, how good will diet coke taste out of a man-love cup? Dee-fucking-licious!

5. My state keeps it motherfucking real, y'all. That's right. SC in the house. We shout what we want...whatchu gonna do? You wanna step to me. Don't step to me! My state will smack your hoggy mouth and make disparaging remarks about your momma's boobies. Oh, yes we will. Suck on that, you carpet baggin' sluts! (Okay, okay. But how cool would it have been if Joe dorkus had shouted something more random...like "FISH WITCHERY!!!" or "PHLEGM PAJAMAS!" Really cool, really, really, fucking cool).

JEALOUS?

Click here for Photographer Kevin Bauman's photo record of 100 abandoned houses in Detroit, MI.

I'm always amazed by the sad, neglected beauty of Detroit. Despite it's serious problems, troubled history, and general hopeless aura, Detroit always feels like a place deserving of care and protection. The houses Kevin photographs were once gorgeous homes, and great apartments. Now they're becoming part of a new, wild landscape.

A married couple, Jim and Wood, who run the blog Sweet Juniper! have posted on the Feral Houses of Detroit. Here's an excerpt:

"Our world feral comes from the Latin root fera, or "wild beast," but it also has a connection to another Latin word, feralis, literally: belonging to the dead."

Detroit will never be a ghost town, but it is in the midst of a sort of ghosting. Too many people love the blood, grease and steel of Detroit to let it die with a shudder. It is an amazing sort of place, perhaps a symbol of a lost American dream, perhaps too a symbol of a sort of stick-to-it-iveness in the face of accumulating obstacles? In the aftermath of the mass exoduses (exodi?) Detroit will reinvent itself as something new, on top of the dead, but not without recognition of it.

That's my hope anyway. And to be honest...everytime Roy and I pass through Detroit to his parent's house, I get the urge to move there. There is a lot that needs doing, and a lot worth saving about this part of the country. Now if only it weren't so damn cold there!

Get this!


This award will be given to the best previously unpublished original poem written in English which best relates gay / lesbian / bisexual / transgender life by a poet who is 18 or older.


And guess who got honorable mention?

Me.


I'm glad I didn't win. I would feel like a total d bag. Also, this poem has recently been spoken for...so finally, the long poems time has come? I hope so. No one has wanted to publish long poems in journals, or otherwise. They take up too much space.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/usc_aiken/

That there <↑> is the link for USCA's flickr photostream. Take a look and you can see where I spend my days, and with whom.

What amazes me is that despite having only been hear for two semesters, I know a LOT of the students in these photos. In fact, a few of my favorites are pictured...it really is a very nice, very student-friendly school. Make sure to take a look at the lovely quad, and the Pickens Salley House...it is an old plantation home, repurposed to house our Chanecellor and Administration office.

Also notice that the female population of this school is a whopping 67%! Fan-freaking-tastic!!!

superpoop.com

Let's all enjoy our shit sundae! Now with free sprinkles!

Why not?

I've always happened to notice that there is never a shortage of jobs for very pretty women. We'll really know the economy is horrible when we start seeing thin, attractive, homeless blonde supermodel-types begging for change. That hardly EVER happens. Hardly ever.