Pursuing Calefaction

And into another one! I kicked the spring semester’s ass (an A and an A-), but then I got elected treasurer of the HCoop. And since our last treasurer actually went AWOL last year some time, I must basically learn this stuff from notes left online. I have had a week’s break from schoolwork, but summer session I is coming up hard and fast, and it looks to be intense. I must drill down and focus so I can repeat my good performance this past semester.

I’m tempted to declare Wordpress bankruptcy. I have 5 drafts sitting in my queue, one of which has been there since December of 2010. Pro: I can move on, and actually maybe be productive. Con: I actually have things to say in those drafts, and deleting them will destroy any memory of the words already accumulated. So they sit and stink up the queue another week.

This won’t be an omnibus post, only because it’s going to be short. In fact, it’s over now.

Yep, screaming. I’m out of meds, and coffee is only marginally effective. I got my last project in on time for one class, but I am afraid I’m going to need to turn in the rest of my stuff for the other class as late. My task is to create several plans (behavioral, lesson, you name it) from whole cloth. Yippee!

Not giving up, though. I have several hours before class still.

Wow, look at the time. How did it get to be April 12th? Ah, I remember now–I have been nose-deep in grad school work for the last two weeks nearly non-stop. Some of it was catching up on work long-overdue, but the majority of it I spent writing a materials critique. I am pleased to say I turned it in on time, but my mind continues to revisit it and ping me on ways I might have done better. Several areas are probably too inspecific, but my greatest fear is that I completely bailed on the overall personal evaluation section, writing vague, trite garbage rather than concrete assessment replete with specific examples. I shall hear back soon enough. To quell these doubts I repeat my mantra, given to me by the Sidhe: “Done is better than good.”

Already we’re caroming toward final exams. I have been squeezing what I can from the last handful of doses left in my med stash, and then I’ll be in free-fall until I can afford to go back to a psychiatrist to get a prescription. Last year I tried to go without meds, and it got me not much. This year I employed them strategically, and it has made all the difference in the world in my academic performance. But the comet I spoke of last semester is not nearly as strong, its mass sapped by the sun’s heat. It’s still there, but I’m not screaming right now. I’ll take it.

My personal goals have slipped somewhat in pursuit of success in my graduate work. I’m still reading Pride and Prejudice, though my friend Fox was kind enough to send me another book to read once I’ve finished it (Freud’s Couch, Scott’s Buttock’s, Brontë’s Grave, by Simon Goldhill). I have written only two letter since my last post. But I did manage to knock out another beer today That write-up must wait as well, for I have work that needs doing for my last project of the semester. I took pictures to accompany it, though!

I have been up to a bunch of things. I owe you a beer post or two, as I have brewed up both a hefeweizen and a dunkelweizen, and then there are all the little things that have made life fun. I tried to write about stuff, but I never finished any of the posts. They just sit there, crustifying away in the drafts queue. They’ll make it out eventually.

I filled out a bracket for the NCAA tournament, and then actually managed to get excited about the games themselves despite myself. My NC State Wolfpack did well, but not well enough–Kansas bounced us out of the Sweet Sixteen after an exhilarating upset victory against Georgetown. That game was made especially sweet because in 2008, my alma mater UMBC made it for the first and only time to the Big Dance, and Georgetown took them out in the first round. I consider myself avenged! And surprisingly, my bracket did not fall completely. I correctly predicted 11 of the Sweet 16, 5 of the Elite 8, 3 of the Final 4, and both teams in the championship match. Update: And I picked Kentucky to beat Kansas. Winner, winner, chicken dinner! All told, I had a 77% success rate. Not too shabby. Now if only Michigan State hadn’t choked…

Grad work has been like pulling teeth. I have been loathe to medicate, but it’s coming down to brass tacks, so I am finally back on board for one final push. In addition to the inevitable work I must catch up on (yes, I have fallen behind), I have two papers to write before the end of the semester, and two monster exams. But I can do this. Here comes the comet again…

My motivation for the next week is a visit north to Maryland. I am helping my sister with a stream cleaning project in her neighbourhood, mostly by being the guy who makes the power breakfast before and the victory beer after. I’ll be bringing up a case and a half of springtime treats–an IPA, a blood orange hefeweizen, and a dunkelweizen, all made with love. If I can finish all the work that is due by Weds. night, I can head up to MD with zero nagging doubts and no work to try to bring with me. If you want to spend the day before Easter in lovely Ellicott City with a bunch of fuzzy hippies cleaning a stream, let me know and I’ll get you details.

I want this blog to be more than just my doings–I want to write about things that matter. I have so much to say that just doesn’t make it to paper. I will try harder.

The Sidhe has quite a familiarity with Edgar Rice Burroughs’ work, and she was the one who turned my head toward the trailers that started showing about this Disney film. I have not yet read anything related to Barsoom, though that will very soon change–but the imagery in the trailer alone was enough to drop my jaw despite the jaded approach I take toward movies these days. I respect good animation even if a story is off, but throw the idea of Mars in there and I’m sold. What can I say? I’m a nerd. So I familiarized myself to a very limited extent with Burroughs’ general ouvre, mostly through discussions with the Sidhe. And then we watched a terrible SyFy-quality direct-to-landfill adaptation, which would have been abominable if it weren’t awful. My (somewhat long) review of the far superior Disney production follows. Read more…

March 4th is a nerdy day if you’re a classicist. Even if you’re not, there’s a cute pun in today that gives one a reason to step out courageously, for it’s homophonous with March Forth. But those in the know–and soon you will be one of them–will enjoy the day in deeper measure. For students of Greek literature will remember an ancient author by the name of Xenophon, and his relation of a hair-raising tale of how he and a host of Greek mercenaries got the heck out of Dodge. The Anabasis stands among my favorite books in part because of its fish-story quality. But the reason why it is relevant to us today is because Xenophon, writing in the Greek, repeatedly writes that he set forth on his journey. Happily, the phrase he uses pairs well with a particle that makes the whole phrase sound like “Exelauno Day!”

You have just witnessed the death of a joke by its explanation. But it still tickles me and many other silly people, so that’s all that matters. So, set forth bravely today, remembering that Xenophon did as much, even when faced with certain death at the hands of a king with literally hundreds of thousands of warriors at his disposal. Take heart: you, too can make it out alive with a whopper of a tale! And I just sneezed, so it must be true.

Exelauno Day!

Well, I put on a good front, but the only true metric of effort is accountability. I made a number of vows for the new year, and I intend to follow through with them. So here’s a straight and merciless look at what I set.

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You all knew it was coming: another beer post. This is really where my motivation comes from–as my friend Sparrow was saying to me earlier this week, alchemy is irresistible. I tried to hold off, but the stuff I put out in between was just senseless emo rambling, so we’re back for another update on that delicious ambrosia that is the result of letting organic machines do the work for us. Unfortunately, no pictures today. I will get that webcam working soon!

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Grad school is taking its toll. Most of my days are spent putting off grad work or doing grad work. And by putting it off I’m usually thinking about it but not writing. So, video games, which I know I must swear off at some point, or television, which I also know I must swear off. I’m learning the hard way to say ‘no’ to just about every social activity imaginable, because it’s time I need to be spending working on grad school. I backed out of the tutoring gig for similar reasons–without medication, I have much more of a time burden than I really want. And so it becomes unrealistic to think that I can just pop off to a party and also expect to finish any given task the next day.

Which means I’ve had to embargo thoughts, put a stop to the free-wheeling bubble machine that it my brain. And that’s no good, because they’re still here. I still dream of the worlds in my head, I still dream of the things that might be. Not getting them out on papaer is driving me crazy. Focus on any one subject feels nigh impossible, and yet that’s what I’m supposed to do. So I have a black market of ideas. I write little scenes in my notebook while the professor is lecturing in my class. I think about the necessities of history when I’m staring at my online class Web site, and every time I read about a new exoplanet I get a little thrill from the denizens of the one in my head. I need to get it out, and I don’t know how I’ll find the time. I thought I would have more time when I left the clinic to write and do other efforts of the mind, but it seems that is a delusion.

Still not giving up.

One of the larger themes about my new year’s resolutions is the act of communication. I’m terrible at it. Really, what I’m terrible about is maintaining it. I have a pile of people I want to be in touch with, some going months back, and it’s all I can do just to hang on to these lists and not lose them. Never mind actually keeping up a steady flow of dialogue–I let myself get bogged down in the mundanities of life, and before I know it, it’s 10pm and my school work isn’t even done, so how am I going to find time to write a letter to each of these people (email or otherwise)? On the other hand, minor successes in that front. I have gotten several letters out to friends, and even received replies!

Renewing the commitment here and now. I’m not giving up–I’m staying on fire. Pass the kerosene, please. This bonfire ain’t over till I croak. If you get a wild hair and feel like sending me a letter (and are not already waiting on a reply), do so. I shall respond. Hell, even if you’re waiting on a reply. One thing I don’t get is silence. I try to at least reach out to people, and sometimes all I get back is crickets. What’s the limit? How many times do you reach out to silence before giving up? I have lost contact with some of my dearest friends simply because I never hear back from them. And that tears the shit out of me, because I have no way of knowing if I’ve done something wrong or if life is just eating them up or what.

It’s funny–part of this is self-inflicted. I have purposefully left facebook, for instance. The light’s on, but I don’t log in unless someone prompts me to. I don’t read it. I don’t use it. And the reason for that is partly because it ended up being me just watching other people, and posting meaningless things that got ignored. That, or the format constrained any attempt at serious discussion to sound-byte levels despite its attempt at threaded topics. At least on Twitter there are the virtues of concision and direct address, and the built-in glibness of the whole thing means that if you want serious discussion you must take it to a better forum anyway. I am finding fewer and fewer reasons to use facebook. It’s now one of my many address books.

My family has a communication problem in general. Mother won’t talk to father, sister won’t talk to mother, brother only talks to me and mother…it’s ridiculous. But I suppose my communication difficulties should, then, come as no surprise.