EleCivil

Today, I was studying for a final and putting together a professional development portfolio. At the same time, I was doing laundry. I'm a laundry procrastinator - I wait until ALL of my clothes are dirty before washing. The problem being, I've got no clothes to wear while the rest are in the wash. So, I'm working frantically, pulling papers from all over to put this portfolio together, all the while trying to weigh them down so that the fan doesn't blow them away, because it's 90 degrees inside the house and we've got no air conditioning. I'm wearing a pair of purple boxers and my bones shirt - a black shirt with a glow-in-the-dark ribcage on it that I used for part of a Halloween costume back in 3rd grade - when I hear a knock at the door. I'm thinking of just ducking under the window and pretending I'm not home, but then I remember that I was supposed to sign for some deliveries, and that might be them. I open up the door, and it's my former roommate. He looks me up and down, says "Huh," and shrugs. I say, "Man, I'm glad it's you, or this could've been awkward." He shakes his head. "No, no, it's plenty awkward on this end." "We lived together for a year and a half. How are you not used to this?" "It's not the boxers. It's the purple." "Really?" "The purple...I keep seeing it out of the corner of my eye, and, I don't know, my brain says 'Hey, purple? What's that?' and then my eyes are like 'Oh, we'd better check it out!' and then I'm thinking 'No, no, don't look at his crotch,' but by then it's too late!" "...Well, now you've gone and made it awkward." "I try." "He was the roommate from hell! His name was Lucifer. Someone call the priest, bring the crucifer. He was the roommate from hell! Leaves his pitchfork in my bed. I'm in a Satanic panic 'cause he is messin' with my head!" -"Roommate from Hell" by MC Lars (ft. MC Chris)

The oncologist says that my dad has six months (maximum) to live. People have been coming over to visit. My grandma, my cousin, old family friends who we haven't seen in years. It's weird - the last time I saw my cousin was about ten years ago, when HER dad (my uncle) died of lung disease. And before that? A funeral for another distant relative. It's like we only see each other when someone is dead or dying. She's cool, though. She's from this tiny town, so she's amazed by the "big city" things like traffic lights (they only have a couple stop signs where she's from) and people who don't match their shoes (okay, so that was just me) and the fact that she can't find a country music station on the radio (ah, Lawd). At one point, she asks what we city people do for fun. My mom and I look at each other, shrug, turn back to her and say "We read books." She looks disappointed, like she was expecting us to say "Wild meth-fueled orgies." Anyway, it's finals week. I just got done taking my Bio final - no sweat, there. Just four more days 'til freedom.

Whoa, this is weird. I was reading "Tao: The Watercourse Way" by Allan Watts today. Just ten minutes ago, in fact. And then I came on and saw this. One of the main points in the section I just finished was about "mutual arising" - "I exist because the universe exists, the universe exists because I exist." But if... ...then wouldn't that imply that by changing yourself, you change the world around you, rather than "no one else"? And if changing yourself, and, in turn, the world around you, doesn't it follow that the changes of those around you would trigger some change in you, even if only in their own perceptions of you? Or maybe that's the point - that you, being secure in self-identification, are strong enough to maintain your own self-perception despite the forces of outside views acting on you - impressive, considering how many people tend to act differently depending on how they believe the people they're with are seeing them. Yeah...you just got two paragraphs of reaction out of me with eight lines. I think that means I liked it.

First of all, I want to say thanks to everyone who replied, IM'd, or emailed me after my last post. I really appreciate it. Don't worry about me. I'd been spending the last year or so in denial about it, but I've known it was coming. It was just that Saturday was the day that my Dad actually asked me if I would quit school and go to work, and that made things kind of boil over. BUT, when I boil over, it's usually only for a day or two, then I get distracted by something else and bounce back, being the bouncing soul that I am. So, back to normal (or as close as I ever get to it). Hi-ho.

This is going to be hard to write down, but I've got to get it off my chest. It's probably going to be tough to reply to it, too, so I won't hold it against anybody if you'd prefer not to. My dad's dying. Every male in my family tends to die young - my grandfather died at forty, my uncle died at thirty-five, my great-uncle died at fifty, and now my dad is dying at fifty. He's got two fatal respiratory diseases - lung cancer and pulmonary fibrosis. He's lost 70% of his lung capacity, relies on machines to help him breathe. My parents are living paycheck-to-paycheck. They have been for...well, forever. They've never had enough money to save any of it. A good 75% of their income comes from my dad's pay. And now he can't work any more. Problem is, he can't get on disability for 4-18 months, depending on how long the government takes. My dad tried to cash in his IRA retirement fund, to hold them over until either disability or life insurance kicks in, but they wouldn't let him. You have to meet certain standards to be able to cash it in early. They said that you had to be facing certain "hardships" to be able to do that. Two fatal diseases isn't "hardship" enough for them. They mean rich-man's "hardships" like buying your first house. We've never had the kind of money to even consider buying a house. So now I'm back home. In order for my family to survive, I've got to drop out of school, get a full time job, and become head of the household. My Dad's already said that he's not going to get chemo or radiation therapy - my mom would have to quit HER job in order to drive him to the hospital all the time, and then, even with me working full time, we wouldn't have enough money to scrape by. So he's decided to let it kill him, because he just doesn't have the money needed to live. I always thought I could beat the system - be the success story, the trailer park kid who, by studying hard and working three jobs and scholarshipping through college, could break out of the cycle of generations of poverty and finally BE something. I don't want to get to the top - I'm not looking for riches and fame. I just want to be a teacher. I'm GOOD at that. But the system doesn't let go that easily. So it goes. I've been working hard, so now I'll work harder. The system has me, but I won't let it break me. Things are stacked to keep everyone in their place, but I've got to prove that it doesn't have to be that way. I've got to, because...what else is there to do?

Hahaha. It's true, though I'm glad you're the one to announce it first, because otherwise, the board wouldn't have been able to see your astounding ability to work Justin Berfield into ANY analogy. Scrub as hard as you like, but my fingerprints are indelible. Anyway, just to clarify, I decided to leave the Ragnarok project because I'm really not into sci-fi/noir. It's just not my thing. That, and because my current schedule barely leaves me very little time to write, and I don't want to hold back production on a team effort with my take-forever-between-chapters-ish tendencies. No, this wasn't because of "creative differences" or a pirate/ninja blood feud (though there is such a blood feud, it is completely unrelated to this decision). So it goes.

I agree with the one narrator rule. From what I've seen, multiple first-person narrators are USUALLY impossible to tell apart. I've been reading stories with just two different narrators, and had to do double-takes when I noticed that the narrator was talking to the person who I thought was narrating. Their thought processes and word choices were so similar that, if you accidentally skipped the "Joe's POV" line, it was impossible to tell them apart. There's only one book I own with multiple first-person narrators - Joey Goebel's The Anomalies (see: signature quote). It doesn't just switch POV between the five main characters, but also a bunch of minor and walk-on characters, like "Punk in the Front Row", "Guy at the Restaurant", "Hippie", and, briefly, "God". Some of these last for only one paragraph, and are never seen again. God's POV, for instance, is simply a memo written in reply to a prayer by one of the other characters. I think it works in this case, because the main theme of the book is how the five main characters stand out from "normal" society - we get to see how they view themselves, how they view each other, how they view the rest of the world, and how the rest of the world views them. The narrations are also vastly different - one character thinks and speaks in abstract poetry, one is an Iraqi and has trouble understanding certain cultural and linguistic differences, one is 8 years old, etc. It's a little confusing at first, but that's kind of the point - the reader, being "normal", is supposed to be confused by these characters.

-Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse-Five So it goes.

Hah, I'm the nerd? You're the one texting me Carnac jokes in the middle of the night.'Course, I don't deny laughing at them.So...what was my point, again?This calls for an AWKWARD EMOTICON MOMENT. Yeah. What now, Mr. Miller? What now?

[Renunciation] If all that?s said is only truth, How nobler named than Liar be? If every act heroic called, What better cause than villainy? Pray, come name me Charlatan! ?If such a name be needed For better named untruthful than Memorized, repeated. May every word to leave these lips Leave little but impressions That every saunt?ring syllable Led only low intentions. Let all words spoken honestly Lie caught between the teeth And so be heard not publicly Lest named, thus bound, to be.

That's awesome. Short and to-the-point, but with great rhythm. The Pontious Pilate line especially gives it a punchline-rap feel.

Ha, I did look kinda like the kid from The Kid. And he grew up to be Bruce Willis, who kicks all kinds of ass. Hey.But no, I never had a lisp.

I'm home for Easter. Today, my mom showed me two pictures: one that she'd taken this morning, when she found me asleep in the computer chair, and my school picture from sixth grade - age ten, exactly ten years ago. Interesting. It got me thinking about how different I am, now. It's easy to forget about how much you change, since you see it from the inside, as a slow progression. When you look at it in terms of a big gap, like ten years, though... Ten years ago, I had long hair. Now it's really short. Ten years ago, I pretended to like football because all the kids at school did. Now, I'm fine letting everyone know that I'm weird. Ten years ago, I was a fundamentalist Southern Baptist. Now, I'm a non-theist. Ten years ago, I knew that I was straight. Now, I know that I'm not. Ten years ago, I hated middle school more than anything. Now, I can't wait to get my degree so I can go teach in a middle school. Ten years ago, I only listened to the Oldies channel on the radio (everything else was "devil music"). Now, I listen to punk, hardcore, hip-hop, folk, indie, and all kinds of "devil music". Ten years ago, I was afraid of the dark. Now, I'm a night person. Ten years ago, I had not yet touched a computer, and had no idea what the internet was. Now, I'm a tech geek working in a computer lab. Ten years ago, I was rarely allowed to leave my house. Now, I'm barely at home except to sleep. Ten years ago, I liked to write stories in my free time. Now...well, not everything changes. Ten years ago: This morning: And now, I wonder - ten years from today, will there be nearly as many changes? Any that are as big as some of these? I think I'm pretty secure as to who I am, right now, but ten years ago, I thought the same thing. Ah well. "Of course, tomorrow morning if our whole system collapsed, We?d divide ourselves again on lines of gender, race, and class. But tonight I don?t care if we win a million hearts, Unless we rip them out their chests and start throwing them at cars!" -"Johnny" by Tom Frampton

This has nothing to do with anything, but I thought it was a funny story. The other day, a friend and I were having a contest to see who could do their taxes fastest (nerd race!). He pulled ahead, so I shouted "Matt Lauer! You got me." He pauses and looks up. "What'd you just say?" "...You got me?" "No, the first part. Matt Lauer?" "Yeah, the guy from the Today Show." "I know who he is. Did you seriously just use his name as an interjection?" I nod. "Yeah. I like to think of it as 'taking the Lauer's name in vain.'" "You make so little sense sometimes, that when you talk...it's like one of Modest Mouse's early albums is playing." "Thanks." "That was an insult." "Aw, Matt Lauer." "You ain't machines and you ain't land, And the plants and the animals, they are linked, And the plants and the animals eat each other. Oh my God and oh my cat." -"Never Ending Math Equation" by Modest Mouse

Things I learned from one week of student teaching in a 5th grade classroom: 1 - Very few guys are involved in schools at the lower-middle level. There wasn't even a men's restroom in the building - the only other males in the building were the gym teacher and the principal. This means that for the students who have been in that building for the whole of their schooling, I was the first male classroom teacher they ever had. 2 - While some schools are under-funded, others have way more money than they know what to do with. I ended up teaching in a rich suburban school district, quite different from my own. There were SmartBoards, really nice computers, scanners, and printers in every room. They had better technology than my college's computer lab. 3 - Elementary school teachers are the most stereotypically wholesome people in the world. Eating lunch in the teacher's lounge means that I got to hear all about their home lives. Talk of little league games and marching bands and homecoming and church youth groups and cheerleading and all of those non-threatening school-and-church-sanctioned events that I avoided like the plague when I was in school. So not only am I completely alone in being (1) male, (2) single, and (3) childless, but I come from a radically different subculture. Don't get me wrong, they're nice, but it's just...tough to talk to them when we have no common interests outside of teaching. 4 - Teaching is exhausting. This surprised me. A day of teaching leaves me more tired than a day at the gym. Now I know why all the other people in the teachers' lounge seem to be addicted to coffee. Of course, a lot of this probably has to do with waking up early combined with staying up late to write lesson plans (that, and I tend to go into high-energy, adrenaline-rush mode when teaching) 5 - Teaching changes the way you think about things. Just a week, and I'm already looking at things differently. I see an empty egg carton and think "Hey, I bet could make something out of one of these." I listen to a new song and think "I could use this to teach about figurative language." I see a kid causing trouble in a store and actually start putting on my "Teacherly Disapproval Face" before I remember where I am, and that I've got no authority there. 6 - You can tell a lot more from grading papers than whether or not they're getting the answers right. One kid would get all of his answers wrong, but have huge paragraphs of text - complex, perfect sentences - completely unrelated to the homework written on the back. One had horrible handwriting and was in special classes for help with reading, but if you flipped his papers over, you could see the big, detailed drawings that he'd done. He would get in trouble for "wasting staples" by using fifteen or twenty of them just to fasten his homework pages together...but if you flipped the paper over, you could see that the bent-over sides of the staples formed an intricate pattern on the back of the page. One girl never turns in her individual homework assignments, but if she's in a group with others, that group always finishes first and turns in the best work, because she knows how to organize a team. This is stuff that I learned on the first day, just by grading a few different papers. Later, I talked to these kids and confirmed it. The writer loved Eragon, and wanted to be the next Christopher Po-whats-his-name. The artist took me into the hall and showed me some of his work that was on display - sculptures and a near-perfect colored pencil reproduction of a Van Gogh painting. Apparently, he likes to sneak into the art teacher's room during recess to see if she has any extra projects for him. The leader? She was in charge of the student government, crossing guards, and a half-dozen other team activities after school that took up all of her time for homework. The back of the page is worth a lot more than the front. 7 - Make sure you're wearing an ID around your neck when doing a restroom escort. One of the other teachers walks by and sees me - a guy, who is definitely not one of the two guys who work in the building - standing outside of the restrooms. She pauses, says "...Waiting for the girls to come out of the restroom?" I shrug and say "A couple girls, a couple guys. Just going to take 'em back with me." Words cannot describe the look she gave me. That's when I remembered that I left my ID in my pocket, and quickly pulled it out and dropped it around my neck. She exhales deeply and walks away, muttering to herself. Awwwwkward.

So, a few posts ago, I mentioned how I wasn't looking forward to dressing professionally to student-teach next week. After thinking about it a bit more, I realized that I've never dressed professionally for anything in my life. Like, I don't even know how it's done. I understand the basics - pants + shirt + shoes + socks - but that's it. I don't know how to match stuff or co-ordinate colors (only that, maybe, by doing the exact opposite of what I've been doing, I might accidentally do it). And, above all else, I didn't OWN any professional clothes. As a kid, my clothing consisted of hand-me-downs from cousins, charity-box donations, and free event t-shirts (Fifth-Third Bank Presents...4th of July Cash-Stravaganza!). From high school on, my wardrobe has consisted of a couple pairs of jeans, one hoodie, and about ten plain, black t-shirts. So, today, for the first time in my life, I went to an actual clothing store. I felt a bit sick at first - selling out tends to do that (To quote The Simpsons, "I feel like punching myself.") - but then I noticed something. The guys kept hitting on me. That's why I've never seen that many gay dudes in Ohio - they were all hanging out in the clothing stores! I guess I missed a memo or something. But thanks to their help, I learned how to throw together a few cheap, decent-looking clothes that'll get me through a week of pretending to be one of those...what-do-you-call-'em...mature adults. Also, a friend of mine offered to give me ten thousand dollars if I agreed to get a Tupac-style "Thug Life" tattoo. I turned him down, and he changed the offer - five thousand to get a decidedly non-Tupac-style "Teacher Life" tattoo in the same place. Once again, turned down (though it killed me to do so, because I find the idea quite amusing). I made a deal with myself long ago that I'd never get a tattoo, because I know I'm waaaay too impulsive to be doing anything that has permanent effects. "And if you're slow on the uptake, I'll lay it out: Hipsterism is a religion to which you gotta be devout. You must be seen as in between unpopular and hated Or else get excommunicated." -"Indier than Thou" by MC Front-a-lot

For the past week, I've been standing on one foot quite a bit. Basically, cutting down on foot usage by 50%, not by walking less, but by only using one at a time. I had no idea why that was until today. I'll start at the beginning, I suppose, because no matter how stylish stories that start at the end may be, a bit of sequence now and then can be refreshing. I tend to not cash my checks right away when I get them. I usually wait until I actually need money for something before going to the bank. Well, I've been able to stretch a check pretty far in the past, but the past few weeks has been a new record. I had, in my back-log, two checks from each of my two jobs as well as a state tax return check. I checked the fridge earlier today and noticed that the only edible items in the house were as follows: -A half-gone carton of soy milk (which, according to another article posted on this site, is apparently turning me even gayer) -A can of Pepsi whose label indicates that it would be best to drink it before June of 2001 (I'm holding on to it in case I ever find a time machine. I don't like Pepsi, but I'd drink it anyway, for the sake of science.) -A tub of whey protein powder And, finally, -A single slice of bread I was faced with a tough decision - spend the first official day of spring break doing much-needed grocery shopping, or see if I could survive for a day on some kind of whey-and-mustard mixture spread on a piece of toast. Not putting that much faith in my culinary skills, I went shopping. On the way back, I noticed a sign for a yard sale. Not usually my thing, but a friend recently told me how he found an old Sega Master System at a yard sale for cheap, so I thought, hey, I'll give it a shot. That's where I found it - a beautiful old skateboard, covered in scratches, but shined up really nice. I haven't been on a skateboard since middle school; haven't even thought about taking up skating again, but this board caught my eye. That's when I realized why I had spent the past week standing on one foot: Balance. I'd re-taught myself to balance, without even thinking about it. It was fate. Everything fell into place perfectly to put me and this skateboard at the same place at the same time - spring break, the yard sale, running out of food, having a big enough backlog of checks that I had some spare cash to spend...it all came together. It all came flooding back - the hours I'd spent in the summer of 6th grade, skating around the neighborhood. Getting my neighbor to beg his parents for a board so that we could go together. And of course, my proudest hour - beating one of the high-schoolers at a game of Chicken. He made the mistake of actually caring about his/my wellbeing...I, on the other hand, closed my eyes and launched myself at top speed, shouting "Sic semper tyrannis!" (yes, I was weird when I was 11, too). I'm so excited! If only I didn't have to leave for work in a couple minutes...but I've got the rest of the week to play around on this thing before school starts again. Hi-ho! "After weeks of winter that just wouldn't quit, and the headlines remind me the world's gone to shit, I ride my skate to the park, because sometimes that's all that someone can do. And I try not to think that it's only fashion or that the teenage boys are patriarchy in action, 'cause it's Saturday morning with my friends and we're fuckin' thrashin'! And this feels better...better than it has in weeks." -"This Feels Better" by Defiance, Ohio

Haven't updated the blog in a while, so here's what's going on in a convenient list format: Currently on: Spring break Currently reading: That Thou Art: Teachings of the Upanishads by Ramakrishna (the "secret teachings" of Hinduism); Snow Crash by Stephenson. Currently playing: Phoenix Wright, Ace Attorney - Justice for All. Currently writing: Laika, Chapter 14; Untitled Short Story; Overlight Strays, Chapter 1 (Yes, a new novel...but don't expect to be seeing it any time soon.) Currently listening: "Mutiny!" by Set Your Goals; "Plays Pretty for Baby" by The Nation of Ulysses; "Plays Ugly for Suckers" by The Yah Mos Def. Currently looking forward to: Student-teaching (next week), the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie (going with a friend on opening night). Currently NOT looking forward to: Mid-term exams, wearing "professional" clothes for student-teaching (they can take my ratty jeans and untucked shirts, but they'll never take my FREEDOM!...that is to say, my mismatched socks.) Currently watching: The promotional search-lights from all the nearby adult stores and strip clubs sweeping across the overcast night sky, reminding us all that we live in a red light district. Seriously, this neighborhood's got so much porno per capita that it's actually reasonable to measure it in terms of per capita. Currently typing: While standing on one foot and whistling "We Shall Not be Moved". Hi-ho.

When I was younger, there was a woman in my church named Gayland Dick. She went by "Gay". No joke. When I first heard it, I did a double-take and looked around to see if the person who called her that was going to get in trouble for using such language in a church. And I once had a boss named Richard Stiff (who ALWAYS goes by Richard). Man, it would have been awesome if they would have gotten married, and then decided to hyphenate their last names. Gay Stiff-Dick would have had the best name ever.

I'm only going to tutor while I'm working in the computer lab - they let us do that - which is why I only count it as 2.5 jobs rather than 3. I'm not working any extra hours, just doing more work during the hours that I'm already scheduled for. It doesn't relate to mismatched socks, since my decision to wear mismatche socks was a completely illogical one.Critical Thinking/Logic class is about applying systematic mathematic principles to statements to determine their validity. Diagraming arguments and conclusions in a mathematical way to show how the ideas lead from one to another, and then pointing out flaws in reasoning based on the form used in statements (formal fallacies). Also, pointing out informal logical fallacies on the level of the text of the arguments themselves.The class was really cool. All the examples the professor gave us were statements from local and national political figures, so it was really fun to identify all the flaws in their arguments.

I got a new job today. For those counting, that makes three. It's closer to two-and-a-half, really. I've been working in my college's computer lab, helping people with software, checking out resources, scheduling meetings with tutors, etc. Today, someone came in looking for a tutor in Critical Thinking/Logic. I looked it up in our system, and saw that we didn't have anyone who could tutor in that subject. I talked to one of the senior staff members, who told me that they can never find anyone to tutor Critical Thinking, because in order to tutor a subject, you have to get an A in the class, and none of their trained tutors have done that. I said something like "Man, too bad I'm not a tutor. That was my favorite class." She does a double-take and says "Did...did you get an A in it?" I nodded. She says "Please tell me you want to be a tutor." "Do tutors get paid more than me?" "Yes." "Then I'll be a tutor!" So now I'm tutoring for the philosophy department. Pretty sweet. Soon, I'll be rakin' in that big-time tutor cash. "Fuelling the flames of the fire to torch the tools of my trade With countless paperback revolutions spouting words that I will never say." -"The Fuckest Uppest" by The John Ritter Wrestling Squad

Haha...my dad said the same thing. Well, not the EXACT same thing, but pretty close. My mom, on the other hand, just burried her face in her hands and said "Oh, Lord, my son's a skinhead..."You once told me that I'd make a terrible hit man, and I agree...but I think I'd make a damn good hired goon.

About $4000. Covers all the damages.

The last chapter's up! And it's great! Once again, perfect ballance between light and dark. I don't want to spoil anything in this topic, though, so you should all go read it.

Thanks Ubik, Camy, Blue, James, and Oliver!