Stalled Engine

So tomorrow is the first day of the new career training whatever. I'm still not entirely sure what to call it, what name to give it when I describe it to myself. Regarding my general life transition, of which this school thing is just a part, I discover I alternate between moments of a sort of muted malaise about the whole deal to moments of feeling adrift at sea. Emotionally, I feel like one of those cold rainless but cloudy days where everything is tinged with grey. I feel like I should somehow be doing something that yields more fertile results, accomplishes something I can look back on with satisfaction. Which is not at all to say that I have been unproductive. I've actually done some important things at work. I've even been reading a couple of novels at home, Graham Greene's The Quiet American for one. But, for the most part, life feels like it has stalled.

Perhaps this school thing will start the engine again. Today, I worked the Sunday shift down at the shop and continued on my assigned writing project. I've been researching the concept of business models and how to implement or refine them. After work, I wound up helping my dad hang some new shelves for the garage area. The longest part of that particular job is figuring out how to get the stinking doors to hang perfectly, and believe me, unless you have tried to do it yourself, you can't imagine how hard that actually is. While we were steadily working on those doors, four deer stepped out of the darkness, walked through the driveway, and stepped back into it again. It was sort of neat to see. The crazy cat, who I'm going to call "Bonkers" for the time being, decided that she would attempt to chase them. The functioning half of her brain apparently decided against a chase once she saw how large the deer were. That's it for now. Time to get to bed at a somewhat decent hour in order to be prepared for tomorrow.

A Character from a Thomas Mann Novel

Today, I managed to get up earlier than usual, so after making myself breakfast and taking a shower, I was able to feel like I was "up" for the day. There is a kind of lethargy that overtakes me after I eat breakfast: definitely a bad habit that I need to break. I resisted the urge to go back to bed.

The major accomplishment of today was getting ready for the new round of classes on Monday. This is going to be a career change, somewhat unwanted, that has all of the attendant fears and regrets that go along with an unwanted career change.

Let me explain a little bit. Last night, I watched a long PBS documentary about Andy Warhol. I liked it, but I really got involved with the description of Valerie Solanas' near fatal shooting of Andy shortly after his Silver Factory days (1968). I had watched the movie I Shot Andy Warhol on television awhile ago, and consequently I was sort of interested in the whole shooting episode, looking forward to a more documentary and less narrativizing approach. (The movie was good on its own terms, but I don't think it really portrayed the extent of Solanas' mental illness.) In any event, the documentary made a point to note how even though Warhol's near death had a brutal and devastating impact on him, he pressed forward with his art anyway. It appeared to be the only thing that he could do. To me, it seemed he had a simple choice after surviving the gunshot wounds: to either accept death and die quietly at home or to go forward and live life the only way he knew how. My circumstances are nowhere near as dramatic, but I have definitely felt a tremendous emotional impact (read: grief) over my late problems. But, the lesson here is that even in the worst moments of life, there is only really one choice: to let life's setbacks smash you in the face and stop you cold or to continue to move forward as best you can. Dogged determination to take tentative steps forward and another and then another even though you feel you're steadily losing ground. I am taking these kind of steps forward, even though I would prefer the impossible: to somehow go back in time and fix my earlier problems and lessen their impact. (Actually, as time does go forward, I am feeling less intense regret about the loss of my previous career path and more mild sadness. Thoughts of time travel occur with much less frequency.)

So, I went to campus to made the usual pre-class rituals--buy books, pay for classes, pay for the parking permit, etc. After several years of school, I'm no longer anxious about the first day like I used to be. In fact, standing in all of the usual lines which go with the college experience, I'm beginning to feel somewhat old. A few years ago, I could pretend I was just an old pro in the student world, but now I'm starting to feel vaguely ridiculous. Most of the other "students" are now nearly half my age. Despite this, I am hoping to do well in the upcoming term. I have a perfectionist streak and a bucket full of good intentions that sometimes make it difficult to not crack under pressure. The grand total of these college expenses are approximately $625, all of which is now on my new credit card. Monday is the first day. The first day of which I hope is the start of a new career path.

Frustrations

There is something magically compelling about the keyboard of my laptop to the cat. For some reason, despite the several square feet of sitting and sleeping space that abounds around her, she really only wants to sit on the few square inches of my fragile keyboard. Perhaps there is something about the static electricity in her fur that aligns her with expensive electronics, or maybe she just harbors a grudge against me and amuses herself by this petulant behavior. She sees my reaching to move her away from the computer as an invitation to play. Consequently, my right hand has more than a few scratches and bites. I suppose I should see this as some kind of subtle hint to spend less time on the computer as I tend to waste a lot of my time with it.

Aside from the somewhat comical struggles I've had with the cat, I've been having more serious frustrations on a number of fronts lately. I'm not entirely sure if I've followed the roots of all these frustrations to their ultimate source, but if I had to guess, I think they stem from my transition from my previous career path as an English scholar to a new and more uncertain one as a Graphic Artist. As crazy as it may sound to some, I really enjoyed reading obscure novels and abstruse literary theory, writing long papers, and generally thinking critically about those aforesaid things. Most of my personal relationships have suffered because I can't keep control of these frustrations all of the time, or because I can't express them as eloquently as I would like.

Today, I spent most of my time in bed researching for some projects at work. I couldn't motivate myself to take a shower or go into town. I've had a few headaches and been a little more fatigued than usual, both of which could be a result of my forgetting to take my medicine on a regular schedule. Tomorrow (well, technically today after a night's sleep), I am going to be in my previous college town for most of the day. I am not 100% sure what I am going to do, but I will probably take some time to look around maybe even see a movie.

Yesterday, I drove into the capitol and I picked up my portfolio from the Visual Communications department. For some unsupported reason, I was expecting to receive feedback about my portfolio submissions, at least some indication of where my strengths/weaknesses were, but there was nothing. I'm not too disappointed, especially the director of the program indicated she would be out of town for awhile during the overview session I attended last month. I logged into the registration website and signed up for a couple of classes today. In a couple more weeks, I should have a report about what they are like and what I expect to get out of them. I am looking forward to learning about the vector illustration software they use. I hope this will be challenging enough to be worth the money and time investment.

In any event, on the personal level, I am going to start seriously working on how to keep my frustrations in order so they don't overwhelm me. (By the way, it should be said that these frustrations aren't the daily minor ones that everyone faces every day, but major ones that grow out of life's regrets and failings.) I used to ignore these kinds of bothersome things by saying to myself that whatever was irritating me didn't really matter all that much in the long run, or that my frustration was somehow a personal failure to interact properly with the person who was involved in the bad emotion. And maybe there still is some use to this type of coping as long as it doesn't develop into full blown denial. But really, I think I need to figure out how to accept these frustrations and move on without causing some kind of havoc in my life and the lives of those around me. I've (inadvertently) caused enough havoc today.

The Literary Feline

Fountain

Today was not one of my better days. I've forgotten to take some of my medication this past week, so that explains some of the reason why I've been under the weather. On the plus side, the word finally came down that I got into the program to which I was applying. Now, all I need to do is come up with just a few hundred dollars and I will be a student again, albeit at decidedly lower stakes than before. I am really hoping to pick up some career skills that will help me climb out of the black hole of debt I am currently in. Nothing like the prospect of being compressed into an impoverished singularity to motivate one to earn money.

By now, most people know that I unofficially have a cat. It has a balance problem due to a brain defect. According to the vet, to which she was taken a few weeks ago, the cat is known as a "mild cerebellum" something, something. Some injury or disease early in its development affected the cat's brain, specifically the part that controls motor skills. Therefore, the cat frequently falls over, misses jumps, and generally acts like the chief doofus of the feline world. Sometimes, it looks like she is constantly pouncing on things, but I believe that is because she compensates her jumping problem by leaping several inches higher than necessary to reach her intended target. But, beyond her brain issues, I think the cat is just plain weird. She chews on a cardboard box; her favorite cat toy is my hands (which she has scratched and bitten nearly all to hell). And despite her jumping compensation, she still misses. There is nothing like sitting in your chair, and having a cat leap up as high as your head in order to sit with you, but either miss the chair entirely or plain fall out of it. This is in addition to the normal cat issues like fish breath or sitting on my laptop as I am using it. (For instance, this blog post has been interrupted at least five times already.)

Aside from school, and the cat, I think I am doing generally okay. I've been reading for pleasure again. Right now, I am reading Storm of Steel, essentially the diary of a German Soldier during World War I. It has been interesting to get new perspective on the war that launched the 20th century. I finished reading Jimmy Corrigan about a week ago. Generally, I liked it, but I think I turned to Storm of Steel for something more classically literary. I am not sure what I will read next, but I have a paperback copy of Freud's "Jokes and their Relation to the Unconscious" that I picked up in a used book store in Salem. I read his "Psychopathology of Everyday Life" for class last year and enjoyed it. Tomorrow, after depositing my paycheck, I'm going to try and take care of a few errands. I may or may not take more pictures.

Underwhelmed

Fort Hoskins II

After making a breakfast that consisted of three eggs and reheated coffee, I spent most of the morning cleaning things up and straightening the mess that my room had become. The piles of paper that had been on the floor were thrown out, the books that were strewn everywhere had been restacked, and the dirt on the floor was swept away. I took my time doing all of that since I've been trying to cope with the loss of my previous career path: English scholar/teacher. I get the sense that most people who know me want me to get over my moods already and move on with my life, and to be really honest, I am doing the best I can. I'm trying not to let it get in the way too much, but I can't help feel some loss about it.

The overview session that I went to today, the one I mentioned in my previous post, the overview session for the graphic design program I am applying to, was somewhat underwhelming. I think the main purpose of the meeting was to dissuade the unserious and errant dabblers from enrolling in the program. If you saw Art School Confidential, you got to see the arty stereotypes that make up these sort of classes--unserious, errant dabblers being one of those stereotypes. I'm afraid that my nervousness and anxiety about the program was manifested in my nerdy questions after the main presentation. "Did I submit the portfolio in the proper format," "Does the program make use of wacom tablets," and "How soon do you need to buy the (very expensive) digital camera" all were questions that could have at least have waited until August 30th, about the date when I find out if they even accept me. The question that was really on my mind is "How am I going to pay for this," and of course that is a question that, eventually, only I can answer.

After the presentation was over, I went to Circuit City and looked at some several hundred dollar cameras, with so many buttons and screens that it seemed obscene somehow. None of the clerks there appeared to want to answer any of my questions because they all ignored me. Perhaps they somehow sensed I was the essence of poverty. I then went to the gym and worked out for about half an hour, because...well because I sometimes feel like a "fat sack of crap." (Not really, but it's my new phrase.) My last stop was at the pet store to pick up three cheap fabric mice for the cat that lives outside my door to chew on. I am going to try and take the next couple of days easy as far as my worrying about this graphic design program. It is not worth getting heartburn over. Besides, I got over things to work on in the meantime.

Dreams and Portfolios

Fort Hoskins

I slept most of the day away. After waking up at 7:00 a.m. or so, I went back to bed around 10:00 a.m. and slept until 3:00 p.m. It was just barely enough time to turn in my portfolio to the Visual Communications program at the local college. I spent all day Sunday taking photographs, filling out forms, and taking photographs of art that I had already drawn in my previous art classes from years ago. The deadline for turning in the portfolio is on Tuesday, but I wanted to get mine in a day early to beat the other last minute people, especially since the college accepts people in the program on a first come, first serve basis. If space is short, I might be able to beat out a handful of the other last minute applications. Tuesday, I go back to attend an informational meeting that discusses the program in more detail.

Except for driving into the neighboring town to turn in the portfolio, the only other big thing that I did today was the sleeping. I had a couple of dreams though. In the first one, I was on another planet that looked like a large city, like Portland, while other parts of the planet reminded me of California. I was in the parking lot of one of the big box stores looking for my lost cat, a cat that was the size of a large dog. When I got out of my van to look for him, the people I was with drove away leaving me stranded. I spent the rest of the dream trying to navigate my way through some suburban neighborhood in order to find the van and the cat.

In my second dream, I was re-visiting my old University for some reason. It was the end of the term, so all of my former colleagues were attending some large meeting. I was checking where my old office was, when the director came by and asked if I needed a key to clear it out. (The office in my dream was much smaller than the one I actually had last year.) I told her "no," since I had already cleared out the office earlier. I don't remember much else of the dream except that I was walking around campus and trying to avoid the people who knew me. Thinking about the dream made me a little pensive for most of the afternoon.

I'm not going to stay up too late tonight since I need to get back on a normal schedule. On Tuesday afternoon I attend the informational meeting, which even if I don't get into the program, should be interesting.

Adjustments

I've been neglecting my blogs for awhile, partially because I haven't really had anything new to say. Nothing has inspired me to get back to writing either. I think--and I haven't really admitted this to anyone yet--that I still feel somewhat demoralized from the loss of career and apartment at the beginning of the summer, so it has been a little difficult to find a new path and be excited about it. However, I have made a lot of changes since then, so I suppose I should try and keep some perspective.

For example, I am applying to the visual communications program at my local college to gain some practical skills that should help me get a freelance illustration career going. I've thought about also doing some freelance writing since I already have the training for that, but I worry that I am not creative enough to find topics to write about. Heck, if I can't figure out things to say in this silly blog, what makes me think I could write some kind of article and be paid for it. The nice thing about school assignments is the fact that the instructors pretty much guide you through what they want to see in a paper. Anyway.

The above picture is from a trip I took to the Finley National Wildlife Refuge. The environment there is supposed to be comprised solely of authentic native plants. It was sort of interesting to look out over the prairie and see what the country might have looked like about two hundred years ago. However, as you can sort of tell by the fence, there is also an original Pioneer farm house that was built in 1850's in the refuge as well. It was nice to reflect on how those people might have lived all those generations ago, but the building isn't that much to look at. Yes, it is authentic, but it is still just an old farm house.

Getting it in Control

Crane and Geese

Things haven't seemed to be going right for the past couple of days. I have a hard time talking with people without getting angry. The slightest irritation on someone's else behalf gets me going. I've been really trying hard to get it all under control. I think I need to center myself somehow, and to do that, I think I need some time alone. I have also had problems with allergies for the last two weeks. It affects my sleeping, and it makes it hard to breath sometimes. I know that these two things are unrelated, but I am sure it would be easier to control the anger if I hadn't had the allergies to deal with. It is like constantly being interrupted when you're trying to get it all under control.

Part of my relaxation technique is to get away for a little while at a time. The above picture is from one of those trips. It was one of the first times I have seen a crane at this particular location. In addition to the crane, there were the usual Canadian Geese, and in other photographs I have (which aren't as good) there is a nutria. At least, I think it is a nutria. I'm not sure what it is exactly, but it was pretty cool to see.

Steps in Front of Others

I've spent the last few days at work preparing a large submission for a specific trade magazine. The major part of it is about nine pages single space with one inch margins. For those of you who have typed term papers and the like, you know how much that really is. Anyway, for the project, I had to learn a lot about local history: stuff about pioneering trails, historic pioneer farms, and the like. It has been somewhat interesting to know more about the place you live, but I've not really been keen on learning about the pioneer stuff. Yeah, it is interesting to know how people lived one hundred years ago but that only goes so far. I guess I am more proud of the natural environment and the progressive reputation that the coastal west often enjoys more than the hard-work and determination blah, blah, blah that is usually associated with Pioneers. I mean, I guess it would be one thing if the so-called pioneers were the first people out here to settle the land and carve a life for themselves. But, of course, the reservation down the road (with it's popular casino) proves otherwise. The trumpeted ballyhoo about the pioneers of the American west is always tempered by the fact that, for me, it largely represents American expansionism and the displacement of the indigenous peoples.

Personally, I have been having some weird dreams. My life has changed dramatically, and I think, sub-consciously, I am still trying to get a grip on it. I often dream about being poor without any resources to depend on. I managed to get my first paycheck the other day, which was great, but I still owe rent for the month of May in place I moved out of, cable I no longer subscribe to, and phone for service I no longer have. The paycheck won't cover even half of it yet. Fortunately, by the end of the month, I should have most of my bills paid off, but the stress of still owing money combined with the fact that I'm not making any progress on my long term life goals--and that I am 34!--is a little depressing. I tell myself that life is one step in front of the other and that knowledge sometimes helps.

Cliche Enrollment Cards

McBee Park

I figured I could use some of the time I had at lunch to update my blog. I've thought about doing it a few times in the past couple of days, but the heat and the amount of work I have been doing has made posting a bit difficult.

I am officially flat broke. I have ten bucks in my pocket and five in my bank account, which I suppose is something, but not when you consider that I have over 60,000 dollars debt in college loans. I try not to think about that number, especially when I consider all of the other garbage that seems to go with it these days. I'd explain more, but more than likely, everyone who knows me has already heard it.

Being 34 and living your parent's garage is quite a come down. I've officially become a cliche and I am considering submitting my official cliche enrollment card soon. I know I am not the first person of my generation to have done so, but it would be rather nice to have my own apartment again. And speaking of cliches', since I have already gone there, I suppose I should view the next couple of months as a period of recuperation and recovery. Every self-help book and TV show seems to say that is a good idea, even if I am uncomfortable and self-conscious delving into the self-help territory.

I've stalwartly decided to ignore the seeming ignobility of my position to look at the slight upsides. For example, it is sort of a nice garage, and it gives me an amount of privacy that living on the streets never could. (Yes, that was a path I could have taken.) Also, I've still got access to television and the internet, so my mind will have something to occupy itself in the evenings aside from thoughts about the past. And, my parents do live in some scenic country. It has been rather nice to go outside and watch the wind rustle through the large trees instead of watching an empty plastic sack float past a public bus.

I've been spending more time in Nature lately, which is something one could probably tell by the pictures I have been posting recently. The above picture comes from a half-mile hike up and down a steep mountain to a very beautiful river scene. And because of the difficult hike, no-one else was there.

The top picture doesn't do it full justice. Even though it was a bright afternoon, this river clearing was a cathedral of shady greens and running streams. I should have taken some time to get my feet wet instead of standing on the river rocks. In any event, I'll post more pictures later from this particular hike when I have more time for blogging and more things of substance to talk about. Until then.

Footprints

I believe I have settled in for the time being. There is no more moving or shifting of my various material things left to do. Now, I am beginning to establish my new routines. I am not sure what has been really noticeable during the last week, because I suppose I have been too busy to notice anything. The one thing that has been on my mind the most have been the allergies I have been having for the last few days. They are giving me a lot of trouble, to the point where I have a little trouble sleeping.

Perhaps I am having somewhat of an existential crisis. School didn't turn out the way I would have liked, and so my future plans need to seriously re-adjust, but I am not quite sure what direction I want to head in yet. I have been exploring the idea of a future working in the fine arts somehow, but really, nothing seems practical at the moment. It was easy to imagine a future career in reasearch and teaching. It was close enough to taste; I saw it everyday, and to some extent, I was doing it. It is hard to have that kind of vision with an artistic path. Frankly, I think I am still in some of the various stages of grief about the last three years. I'm sure I will eventually work through that grief, but right now, it still feels like I'm far back enough in the tunnel to where the light at the end of it seems rather dim.

Moved!

It's finally done; I've moved out. It took two days to physically get all of the furniture out of the apartment, and then it took about four days to unpack it all into my current living situation. And I can't fit it all in, so I am looking at putting some of it in mini-storage, depending on the cost. I really hate moving, and from a purely physical standpoint, this move was harder to do than all my previous ones. Clearly, I am way more out of shape than I thought. I need to start going back to the gym so when I move next, I won't feel like I am going to pass out.

After about a week's break, I've started back on my artwork again. Having the scanner unpacked helps. I've got plans for upgrading my overall art supplies, but that will have to wait until I start earning my own cash. I am avoiding thinking about school for the time being. Part of me wishes things has turned out differently, but the other part of me is glad to be rid of that particular stressor. There's still some stress about the whole thing. Fortunately, it is not quite like it was before.

Packing Up

If all goes according to plans, this should be my last week here before I move back in with my folks. Yes, I have become a cliche, but I take solace in that it should give me some ability to earn a few bucks before striking out on my own again. I've also been thinking about how I should approach a permanent career in the arts somehow. I've invested in a handful of sketchbooks, pens, and drawing boards. For a mid term goal, I would like to get a good computer rig (*photoshop software, decent digital camera, and a desktop PC or MAC) put together to do some of the cleanup, coloring, and other various illustration tasks.

I am still adjusting to the major changes going on in my life. I spent the past few days at my parent's place trying to get things prepared for my arrival. I also did some initial training so I would know how to do invoicing and billing. There is a lot to learn, and I will need some help still, but I think I should be able to do it without too much trouble. However, the stress of the past couple of days has been a little overwhelming. I am still trying to cope with the adjustment, but I think I should do okay as long as I remember not to overdo everything by trying to get it all done at once.

Moving

Wednesday, I visited the disability services office, the financial aid office, and the career center. All of these things were in preparation for my upcoming move. At this point, I have packed up most of the apartment but I still have to sort through all of the things in the kitchen. I have a grand total of fourteen file boxes packed at this point. And the sad thing is that this is the bulk of my material possessions. Six more file sized boxes should take care of all of the small stuff. And, there is still a lot of things to throw out. I am sure there is some food stuffs in the cupboards that are least two years old.

Of course, since this is the end of spring term, I am not the only one moving. Right now, there is a moving van (not mine) parked in front of my building. I am starting to worry that I may not be able to rent my own truck when I need one if demand happens to be too high. If I can't get moving truck, then I am going to throw out more furniture than I planned on. I don't have that much anyway.

Throwing out furniture and household goods is nothing unusual for students. What was unusual was that I saw a couple people rummaging through the outside trash today. At first, I wondered if they might have accidently thrown out something that they really needed, but then I realized that they were probably homeless. They came up with a few pots and pans. I sure hope that they plan on selling them for scrap or something rather than using them for food.

I am going move my first load of boxes tomorrow. I am also going to change my address with the post office, make an appointment for "checking out" with the housing office, and try to be hopeful about all these changes in the next handful of days.

Some Days

Ritz Quacker

I've been packing for the last couple of days, and I have about four boxes loaded and ready to go. I should be all moved by the end of the month. I sorted through all of my clothes and books in order to determine which ones I could do without. The old clothing, the stuff that doesn't fit anymore, I dropped off at the goodwill today. Ihe books, I sold to a couple different bookstores downtown. Normally, when I sell books, I don't usually make anything more than twenty bucks because I am only getting rid of four or five at time. However, today, I got rid of about sixty altogether and got more money for them than I would have expected. Not to worry though, I still have a ton of books I kept, so nobody would even notice that I unloaded a few.

I also went back to campus today to clean out my office. I said goodbye to my officemate after I gave him some bookends, a desk lamp (which is broken), and some old text books I didn't need. I've never spoken to the guy more than just a few times, so it wasn't too awkward to say goodbye. I didn't feel any pressures to explain my future plans to him other than to say that this was my last term and I was looking forward to the summer. However, I did bump into the guy who I shared the office with during my first year. Every time I see him, I think about how he could be Jack Black's brother. They both look alike, sound the same, and act alike to some degree. I deflected questions about what I was going to be doing in the future by asking him about his dissertation and commenting on how busy he was going be. He laughed, and I wished him luck.

The last thing that I did today was go to the career center. I told the receptionist that I was interested in taking the strong interest survey. They arranged for me to meet with a career counselor, some short man with a receding hairline who was dressed "business casual." Since I knew what I wanted, we didn't talk about too much, except to say that in addition to that particular survey, they required students to fill out a myers-briggs test as well. He said when I finished both tests, we would discuss the results during a future appointment. I didn't really think much about the whole thing because, frankly, I was hot and tired. Part of me is also looking forward to putting this whole school thing behind me. Metaphorically, I've expended a lot heat and lost a lot of energy in the process.

Tomorrow, I am going to packing up the living room and cleaning out the kitchen to the best of my ability. I also need do the laundry. The picture of the duck, whose name by the way is "Ritz Quacker," (no, I am not making that up) was from a walk I took the other day downtown. I needed to get out of the house, so I bought a cold coffee drink and tried to think about all of the other things I need to do before I leave town. Some days are better than others.

Re-Tooling

Lunch This Past Tuesday

For several months, ever since my car was stolen, I have been climbing in to my car's driver's seat from the passenger side of the vehicle. The lock had apparently been forced open with a screwdriver or something and the whole internal locking mechanism was completely broken. I no longer get mad when I think about my car being taken for a teenage joyride, or used as some kind of temporary hotel, but I do occasionally speculate on what it was used for when it was away. Anyway, I had become quite adept sliding across the seats and rather indifferent to potential stares from strangers. I mean, my car was broken and it was not my fault. What could I really do, right? So, on Tuesday, I finally got it fixed. I spent the afternoon walking around downtown while the mechanics re-tooled the door. I was also able to buy a few small art supplies, like a metal copic brush pen.

My walk across town also helped me consider my current demoralized condition. My career path is not going so good, and getting my master's degree may not be in my future after all. Truth be told, I have earned a several incomplete grades and it is rather hard to get them resolved while still trying to attend class. It is very much like trying to save money while spending much more than you earn. I am just not getting ahead. To say that I have been spending a lot of time being pensive and disappointed is an understatement of sorts. My future plans and goals for my life are shifting, but I still don't know which direction they are shifting in yet. I've been reflecting on my future for the whole past week.

Today, I went to talk with the administrators to see if there was any hope of somehow salvaging what I could from the past two years of college enrollment. According to the people I spoke with, there may be a chance to get a degree at some future point, but it is long shot. A very, very long shot. But to earn this chance, I have to swallow my pride again, justify my presence to several bureaucratic gate-keepers, and finally make some academic progress. And to do that, I will have to spend the next three weeks on campus at the admin. bldg, the clinic, and the library. I am not sure I am up to it. On the other hand, to think that I've added a few more thousand dollars of debt to my college loans without a degree to show for it is a strong motivator to persist along my college path for a little while longer.

Regardless of what decisions I come to, my plans for the summer (and beyond) involve a significant change. For too long, I have been stuck in a sort of spiritual neutral; the ship of myself has sailed into still and stagnant seas. Soon, I will move back in with my folks, start work in the family business, explore my illustrator interests, and generally regroup emotionally. I think a change in my physical environment will actually help me get kick-started. And I am looking forward to making some progress--any progress--because, after all of this, a little success will go a long way.

Future Shock

Future Shock

I have become a close friend to anxiety. It has nested comfortable inside my chest, to the left of my heart, and whispers to me constantly. Usually, I try to fight it and say to myself, one way or another, "okay, just because you're worried about the future does not mean that things won't eventually be okay and sort themselves out. Life goes on. Failures are just opportunities. Feelings aren't facts. Yadda, yadda, yadda. But because the whispering of anxiety is incessant, it takes all of my energy to fight it or ignore it, and occasionally, it absorbs me from the inside out.

One way or the other, it seems that my current school plans are either at an end or on hold. I certainly can't afford to keep going into to debt, either financially and academically without having some sort of promise of future reward. So, I am looking at getting a new job, but not in the field for which I have studied. I am looking at getting a new place to live, but some place super cheap. Essentially, I am looking at starting things over, going back to where I was four years ago, but this time, I don't really have a plan for how to move things forward or recover some of what I've lost. I've reached a cul-de-sac in life, and I have to turn around.

Perhaps, I do have something to show for it. For example, maybe I have a better sense of self. After all, I am resolving some long standing life issues to some degree, even though I feel I've made more than my share of mis-steps. And maybe I've even improved the quality of my present and future internal life, even if I will continue to be among the poor and working class. But faced with my current setbacks and debts, this is classic "cold comfort."

But, now I've indulged my anxiety with this blog post, I can start talking back to it with the "life goes on, failures are opportunities, and feelings aren't facts" stuff. There may yet be some things I can do, so, I will do what I have always done. Accept where I am at without too much regret, and try to negotiate for better place and more secure future.

Today on Campus

Campus

I've been on some new medication that makes it more difficult for me to stay asleep. Consequently, I have been waking up super early in the morning, usually around 4:00 a.m. or 5:00 a.m. This would be great, except that I am getting to sleep around midnight or later. I've always had a weird sleep schedule, which I think was due to the swing shift/graveyard I worked at for nine years, but this medication I am on makes the whole eight hours of sleep idea a lot more challenging.

Speaking of medication, because I don't have an income to speak of, I have to signup for a patient assistance program to continue to get this stuff from the corporate guys who make it. I was on campus during the hottest part of the afternoon today getting all the required paperwork filled out and jumping through hoops. The nurse manager, a nice person who seems really overworked, was in charge of all the hoops that needed to be jumped through.

I've had to work with this Nurse Manager before, let's call her R.N. T-----. She's a very nice person, but the last time I met with her, I was sweating from the exertion of walking across the campus on a hot day. After a few minutes, she noted that I was sweating and so she asked me if I was okay. I assured that I was, but while I was filling out forms and such, she left and got me a cold soda. A little stunned, I quietly took the soda and put it in my bag and drank it while walking back to the library. Well, today, the same thing happened again. R.N. T----- looked at me with a look of concern and asked if I was okay. I was sweating again, partly because it was hot and I don't acclimate well to the heat, and partly because the meds I am on make me perspire more. But she was so concerned that she made me take a cold can of apple juice, even though I repeatedly said I was fine. After I filled out more paperwork, I left and drank the apple juice in the car.

However, I have spent the rest of the day wondering if I look like crap, like some kind of human disaster who has just crawled out from under a rock. What is it about me that inspires concern on the part of this woman each time I see her? Do other people notice how I look and think to themselves, "what is up with that guy?" but don't say anything for some reason? I am not going to be too self-conscious about it, but getting feedback about your appearance along the lines of "are you okay?" can affect your self-image for the day. Oh well.

Morning Moon

Morning Moon

I've not been sure what to post, so I haven't really done anything with my blog here for awhile. My biggest project is trying to finish up work for several classes, but everyone knows that, and therefore, is not really worth mentioning.

Although I may not have made much progress in the school department of my life, I have been making a lot of personal progress in creating a healthier lifestyle. I am not sleeping as much as I used to. The above picture of the moon at 4:00 a.m. is evidence of that. But, most people are sick about hearing about my so-called progress too.

In fact, the only thing that might be interesting is that I bought a recliner for ten bucks on Friday. I happened to see it at the St. Vincent DePaul store as I was driving by it after school. It was a bit of a trick loading it in the car and carrying up the stairs by myself, but somehow I managed it. Normally, I read my school books in bed, but I usually fall asleep if the books are too boring, which frankly, they can be. I figure that the recliner will be a better place to read.

Saturday, I cleaned the apartment top to bottom, which included doing a sink full of dishes by hand. I also rearranged the living room to accommodate my new piece of (shabby) furniture. Today, I read my school book. I need to write a two page paper and make a bunch of copies tomorrow, and then on Wednesday, I have to be in Salem to get the door of my car fixed. It has been stuck closed ever since some thief broke into the march before last. I have been climbing into the driver's seat from the passenger side of my car. I have gotten pretty adept at sliding in out of my car, and I am not as self-conscious about looking like some cheapo astronaut climbing into an Apollo module, but it will really be nice to open the driver's side door again. Not sure when I can post next, but maybe I will post a bit sooner than I have been.

Living in Limbo

Today, I managed to go to campus and tkae care of a few things, not the least of which is a making an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. I need to talk with the doctor about increasing my medication if it is possible or advisable to do so. I only spent about twenty minutes waiting to see the triage nurse to discuss why I needed to see a doctor. For some reason, the student health center was packed with sick people: one had a pretty rough cough, and another had "pink eye." I know this because one of the nurses mentioned it to the staff at the front desk, and everyone overheard (about seven students.) I guess privacy about one's health is not something that students really have as much as older patients might. Generally, students are a pretty healthy lot anyway, and they don't have much experience with clinics anyway. Therefore, if one of the clinic staff mentions, in a rather loud voice, that "Richard" has "mono," Richard is not likely to complain about it.

Another minor success for today--I did some grocery shopping. I bought some hot dogs, tea, and chicken. I would like to go to Costco sometime to buy some stuff for the freezer, but to be honest, I am not sure if I am going to have to move in a couple of weeks or not, so stocking the freezer now might be a pointless exercise. I've been thinking about getting a job, about moving to another apartment, or about moving back in with my parents temporarily. Money is getting low, and school options are running out. I am still not sure what I need to do at this point, but I am fairly certain that I will know more by the end of the week.

Tomorrow

Okay, so the optimism of the previous post might have been a little premature. I haven't accomplished much since Wednesday except catching up on too many naps. I am almost out of cash, and I needed to have written two fifteen page papers a month ago. I've lost my confidence, enthusiasm, and motivation for doing the work in the face of the failure to have done it before. And, I am not too sure what to do about it other than to keep trying until circumstances force a change.


Night Driving

Last Friday, I went for a drive around town looking at apartments that I might want to rent. (For a couple of reasons, I have to move out of the place I'm currently in, regardless of whether I have money or a job.) There seemed to be a nice place--sort of secluded, near the river and a park. It is very unlikely that I will move over there, but it was nice to think about it while I was looking. Of course, I don't want to paint too bleak a picture. There are some things I can do, and I am going to try and do a few of them tomorrow. The inertia of the moment feels like it is dragging me down a little bit, but I know I can work against it. As the cliche goes, tomorrow is another day.

Slow Going and Turning a Corner

Anyone who knows me, or has seen me in the past couple of months, is probably aware that I have been struggling with depression for some time. It is not really a big deal anymore at this point because I finally have accepted the whole medical/biological side of the whole thing. Yes, there have been some outside circumstances that have contributed to my condition, but for the most part, I am figuring out that the real deal is internal. And on that front, I have been changing quite a bit. I'm not going to say everything I have been doing to make things better, but I will say that I think it is starting to work a little bit.


Sunrise

The evidence for this has been the past couple of days. After a significant relapse of depression that was more intense than usual, I turned myself around. I spent all Sunday cleaning my apartment. That may not sound like a big deal, but the months' worth of clutter I slowly let accumulate was significantly out of control. Today, I went grocery shopping, took a twenty minute plus long walk (to the grocery store), and did a lot of research for one of my overdue papers. I also made myself breakfast and balanced my checkbook. (Of course, I am running out of cash, but I am not going to let that bother me just yet.) While this might seem like a normal day for the average graduate student, it was quite an accomplishment for me. As cornball as this sounds, I am going to be proud of myself. Tonight, I have planned a few more things that should clear the way to getting more work done on my papers. It may be too late to make a difference in the money department, but this next week is also an opportunity that I am not going to let slip away.

Animal Games

Part of the dilemma that I have been having about posting here on my blog has been that I have not really taken very many pictures lately. I feel that, since I can, I should at least post a picture or two, right? Well, the picture of bamboo to the left here is from March of last year. I will definitely need to charge up the batteries for my camera and stop spending so much time indoors. The other part of the dilemma is that I don't exactly know what to say. The things that have mostly been on my mind are either too trivial or too personal to mention.

Therefore, I suppose I should say something about Animal Crossing. (Trivial) Yeah, the game has been out for a couple of years already on the gamecube. Now, I myself don't have a gamecube and if I am vegging out with a videogame, it is probably something on my Playstation Two. But I heard about it, and I thought my sister would be interested so I bought it for her. Long story short, I think I created a monster. She played it, and she liked it. In fact, she bought her own gamecube console ($99) just to play that one game. Since the game is played in real time, and because a pixelated Turtle asked her to, she had to "visit" her town each day for a whole week to turn on a lighthouse.

I have to admit that the game is sort of fun in that there seems to be new stuff to discover every other week or so. I created my own character to play my sister's town. Consequently, my sister and I have been speaking a weird language which, if overheard by others, sounds rather absurd. I might be saying something like: "I gave another fish to the owl at the museum and there is a shovel for sale at the store, but you really have to write that duck a letter or she'll move out of town." Anyway, so much for that. I hope to post more often, but maybe I won't.

The Wringer

Today was one of those days that put me through the wringer. A few people know I have been struggling with financial aid hoops. Well, at the library, I wrote a detailed letter explaining how I planned on completing my work, then I had two professor's sign it. It took awhile to track down the professors in their offices, and then of course, with each prof. I launched into a self-deprecating story of the troubles I had, but the determination to finish my outstanding work.

So, with the two signatures in hand, I walked the fifteen minutes it takes to get across campus to turn those papers in to the financial aid counselor. He said that I also needed signatures from two more professors for the following term, so I went back across campus to get them (going through the same professor tracking down experience as before), and then walked back to the financial aid office to hand these new signatures in. (For those keeping score, that's approximately 45 minutes of walking. Most of it, by the way, in the pouring rain.) Of course, the second time I got the signatures in, he said that the other thing he now needed was an e-mail from each professor confirming my current work completing strategy. I felt the strong desire to kick the chair out from underneath him, but I smiled and thanked him for taking the time to meet with me. I probably wouldn't be so miffed if I hadn't already been through a similar process the week before. Most of the first week of school has been spent in meetings or organizing meetings with the various campus resources I need.


Sunset

But on a positive note, I am fairly certain that all of this work will actually pay off. I do believe that my petition will be approved some time next week, and then I won't have to worry about paying rent or affording groceries On top of the back and forth on campus today, I drove across town and had my driver's license renewed. The experience at the DMV was not all that excruciating in that I was in and out in less than twenty minutes, which gave enough time to buy some food at the grocery store. But, after the walking, the rain, and the driving, I was pretty tired. I plan to not really do very much tonight except read the assignments I have for Thursday's class.

I could say more about the meeting I had with the professors: one, in response to my description of the difficulties I have had the last two years, said "Life is full." I think it was his attempt to say something profound about the nature of life's problems, or the inevitability of suffering, but while I appreciated the sympathetic gesture, I found it a little corny. The other professors seemed somewhat surprised that I was still hanging around working on the same problems I had discussed with them last year. I feel like a barnacle on this institution, desperately clinging to rock. Like I said, I could say more about the professors, but I think I might save that for later. Suffice it to say that I feel that this is my last best chance; now I need to show some work for it.

Plans and Trips

There may yet be one more chance for me to avoid moving. It involves a couple of well-written letters and about another week of waiting, but if I can actually turn things around rather than just talk about it, then it will be worth it. By tuesday, questions about my short-term housing plans should be put to bed. And, after spending so much time worrying about that and seemingly everything else, I am pretty sure that I will feel somewhat better either way.

Of course, I could have avoided this current pass of circumstances several times before, but for various unwritten and unspoken reasons, I didn't. I try not to be overly critical of myself, but it is hard to stop doing something that one is so accomplished and practiced at. So far, it has been like trying to un-bake a cake. At this stage of my life, I think I am beginning to truly appreciate the importance of honest and sincere emotional support, both the giving and receiving of. Although I am far from perfect in either regard, I have learned that it is okay to ask for it when you need it. I tell myself it is okay "not" to chain myself up in guilt so much.


Depoe Bay

The holidays were rather nice, but the best part were the few days that I spent at the beach with a friend. The picture above is from our second day at the coast. Shortly after taking this picture, we could see the spray plumes of a pod of whales several miles out in the calmer seas. We did not see any sea lions during this trip, but there were a couple of nice walks on the beach that I enjoyed as much. I did not take many pictures, but I am glad of the few that I have.

Oak Tree

It has been well over a month since I last posted something on the blog here, but I figure now is as a good time as any to let everyone know that I haven't stopped writing or thinking about writing a little something here. It has been somewhat difficult to be a "strong ship" and ride out some of the emotional waves I've been sailing on, but the good news is that I haven't capsized. Besides, a sea without waves is rather boring. Related to the emotional stuff, school is pretty much a wreck right now, and I am not sure if I can salvage a degree out of the whole fiasco or not. But I sure am going to spend the next couple of weeks trying my best to do just that--finish. I am still reading some books in my incomplete subjects, and I am actually finding the material interesting and thought provoking. The reality of losing some of the things I have worked for is sinking in to such a deep level that it makes me realize how some of the painful sacrafices will be lose some of their meaning if I don't have something to show for them at the end of it all.

I remember when, while on a field trip for a college biology, the instructor pointed out a little oak tree that had already begun to have bulbous and cancerous growths sprouting on its limbs. The tree was in a picturesque field of tall grass tucked on top of a high hill with large airy veiws of the valleys and farms spread out below. I think of that mental image, and sometimes, I feel like the tree. While I know I have a lot of lovely resources that should nourish my sense of self and accomplishment, there is some internal thing, like the oak cancer (something wholly my own, internal) sapping me from achieving the potential growth I could acheive without it.

Crossroads

So I guess I am going to stop stressing about how often I post here and just post whenever. Too often, I get to feeling like I should be posting here like every other day or once a week, but I am going to give that up. If I only post two or three times a month, so be it. Blogs can take up a lot of your time if you let them--obviously, right? Anyway, I figured I would at least check in here and post something. I am still going to blog occasionally and am not going anywhere. I didn't want anyone to think that I disappeared.

The school thing seems to be going as well as it normally does, except now it really is crunch time. I know I have said that before, but I really feel like this is my last chance to make it. If I can turn in three term papers at the end of the next three weeks, I will be in good shape and will be able to go to school in the winter. If not, I must make some changes. Anyway, I am enough caught up on school to where I think I can actually pull this off, but I am not going to focus on it too much. I just plan on keeping my head down, and putting my nose to the proverbial grindstone. We shall see what comes of all of this.

On the personal front, I think I am really making progress. I have been cooking my own breakfasts and dinners lately (even if the dinners usually only consist of George-foreman-grilled-chicken-breasts). I have even been to the gym three times this weeks. I may be over doing it right now, but maybe not. I think I can keep this up for a little while. Tonight, after laundry, I am going to be finishing my novel (50 pages to go) and writing my report for Monday's class. Then, I start in on reading my theory book, which will probably take me all weekend to do. Should be a full weekend.

The only really interesting things in my opinion, besides doing more work than usual, are the dreams I have been having lately. Usually, I walking am in a crowd of people, none of them with faces or anything, but all shorter than me. It is dark, like the inside of a movie theatre, and I am having a hard time fitting through small doors. Each door I walk through is really thin and cramped. I have to turn sideways and squeeze through. All of which winds up making me feel frustrated. I am not sure what these dreams mean, except maybe that I am trying to fit in somewhere and having a little trouble doing so. Who knows? Anyway, that's it for this blog post. More later sometime.

Knights and Fighting

I've just finished reading Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Of course, not knowing middle english all that well, I read it in modern English translation. Overall, it is an interesting tale that I had not read before. Now I need to think about all of the elements that include the natural (and possibly supernatural world). The color green seems significant, but besides all of the traditional formalism and symbol interpretation I could do, allow me to say that I am awed by the amount of blood and death that frequently appears in these texts from the middle ages.

The thing that I keep thinking about was how this poem seems designed to show how to be a good soldier. For example, loyalty to the King, even when carrying out absurd quests is more important than protecting one's own life. I suppose the Knight would say it was for a good cause, but I really don't see it. Of course, in Gawain and the Green Knight, this sort of loyalty is rewarded by divine approval, so the death that seems so eminent does not occur. But I wonder about the Knights who admired this story and died trying to emulate the standard of honor it conveys.

I wonder if the action movies of today are meant to do the same thing in our modern wars. For example, when Arnold blows away forty or so "bad guys" and looks supercool doing it, especially when it occurs with a Rock-and-Roll soundtrack, I wonder if the result partially teaches young men how to act as soldiers in battle. I read in some books that the icon of John Wayne, the ultra-masculine cowboy shoot 'em up hero, was an image that some soldiers in the Vietnam War had to confront when faced with the fear of combat. I'm not too sure what I really think of all of this, but it is something to think about, and sometimes helps to put it in modern contexts.

Notes on Progress

Today is the day that I finally resolve some long standing difficulties with financial aid. I'm 95% sure everything will work out okay, but I am still a little worried about it anyway. After months of living on the edge with respect to bills, I am really looking forward to getting a little ahead. I am reminded by Foghorn Leghorn's observation that "two half nothings is a whole nothing," but nevertheless I remain hopeful.


Notes

The above picture should give some idea as to what I have been busy with lately. Monday is a full day from morning to night: two graduate seminars plus an evening meeting at the Baha'i Center. This past tuesday, I recuperated a little bit from some previous overwork, but now, at Thursday, I feel refreshed enough to be completely back on track. Even though it is still the third week of the term, I am going to start working on my seminar paper now (as in this week), which means I am going to be spending more time in the campus library than anywhere else. I usually waited too long to start writing, so now I am taking an early-bird approach in an effort to climb back on top of the mountain of work I have been stuck under for the past few months. Right now, I feel grateful for the second chance at doing a good job at school and work hard not to screw things up again.

Chore Day

Today, I managed to clean the house, wash the dishes, and get the laundry ready. The laundry, unfortunately won't actually get done until Tuesday, but I have enough clothing to last me until that long. Those who know me fairly well would also be shocked--SHOCKED, I tell you--to learn that I made myself dinner rather than succumb to the siren call of cheap fast food. The result of this dinner is as seen below.


Basic Chicken Dinner

Of course, if the above dinner just looks like some bland ten-minute-affair, I assure you--it is. I could have added some spices to the chicken or potatoes, or I could have used some vinegar in the peas. But I will resolutely focus on the positive and pat myself on the back for resisting the temptation of Burger King or Jack in the Box. The only thing left for today is a couple more chapters of homework. I have just finished reading Beowulf (in translation) for the second time. Tomorrow is the marathon day of classes (9-11am, 2-5pm, 6:30-9pm), but I am looking forward to it. Until next post.

Motivation and Perspective

This morning, I got up and cleaned my house. Starting with the sink full of dishes, I moved through one end of the apartment to the other, ending up with four loads of laundry. I'll be honest. I haven't felt very much motivated to do much of anything. My comic has not seen a single update in over a month; ideas for it are hard to come by. My pile of work has not diminished appreciably for the last several months. And there have been too many days this month that I have spent in bed, not able to get out of the house until 9:00 p.m. So while it may not seem all that noteworthy to have cleaned my house, it really is.


Boulder

While washing my laundry, but before my short hike to the grocery store, I ran into one of the staff here at student housing. He was a middle-aged man, wearing a white t-shirt and brown pants. He appeared to be rather bored pushing his cart of cleaning supplies around the laundry room, but as I loaded my clothes into one of the washers, he suddenly asked me if I had heard any recent news about Hurricane Rita and if it had hit the coast of Texas yet. I told him that I had heard on CNN that the storm was downgraded to a Category 3, but that was about all I knew. He began telling me about the meeting the student housing staff had recently. Apparently, our Governor had told all the state agencies they should be prepared to accommodate the evacuees from the recent Southern hurricanes. Consequently, as the cleaning guy wiped down the dryers, he elaborated that this meant our State school was already housing an 82 year old man in the one of the student housing apartments. Maybe, there would be more to come. If I understood correctly, this elderly man apparently lives very across the street from me. The cleaning guy said that he had a conversation with him where the old man stated that if he didn't see Louisiana again, it would be too soon. There are many levels to this whole thing, and I really feel for the old guy, but I am glad he is safe. I wonder how he feels to be living in a neighborhood that consists primarily of twenty-somethings.

The old guy's problems helps me keep some perspective on the personal troubles I have been having lately. No matter how bad thins are, there are always some who may have it a little worse. At least I have an apartment, live close to friends and family, and have a relatively defined plan for the future. This old guy has to start completely over.

Watching Whales

Just this last week, a really close and dear friend invited me to spend some time with her and her brother on the Oregon Coast. I really had a nice time overall, especially gettting to see my friend again and talk with her about various things. I was/have been in a low mood for the last several months and this trip really went some ways to help perk me up a bit. It was really great of her to invite me. One of the coolest things that we wound up doing as a group was going on a whale watching tour on the boat you see below.


Whale Watching

Once on the boat--really just a fishing trawler--and among a group of about twenty people, we left the harbor and sailed out underneathe the large Newport bridge. Although they advised us that we may not see any whales because the fog was a little thick, once out on the sea we found that the fog had cleared up. Despite the sea being largely calm, it was interesting to note how the ocean in the harbor, the ocean just off of the coast, and the ocean miles away from the coast really had a different quality of waves. The slow, almost directionless, rocking of the ocean ten miles out impressed me. It was as if, while driving on a highway, a collection of small hills would be sliding underneath your car with a gentle rythym. It took more looking than was originally planned, but we finally saw about four humpback whales spouting and fluking out in the sun painted water. We could only spend about twenty minutes with the whales before heading back, but as a confirmed land lubber, I have to say that it was really neat. Everyone, except for maybe the captain and the crew, were pretty excited. I would recommend these guys again [Newport Tradewinds] just because they really seemed to work hard finding a whale for us to look at. I am super grateful to my friend for inviting me along. I just wish I had brought my camera.

A Month

A whole month has gone by without a post on the blog here. Everyone who knows me can guess the reasons why; let it suffice to say that it is the same old "boring" reasons as before, maybe combined with blog fatigue. I haven't really figured out what I should be writing about here.

In any event, I managed to clean my whole apartment today, including the bathroom. (Abandon hope all ye who enter therein...) Things had gotten to a point where it was hard to move around my living room without stepping on something that most people would rather not step on. The only thing left undone in the cleaning department is half a sink full of dishes. I figured it was best to let them soak, and if you saw them, you would think so too. And I finally did laundry, although thanks to a dryer that had no heat, it took me longer than I wanted. I even walked to the grocery store, combining some needed exercise with a shopping chore I was putting off.


Buddy the Cat

Blah, blah, blah. I know that this should sound like a normal work day for an average person, but considering where I have been at lately, this has been quite an achievement. I have actually spent a couple days during the last month or so laying in bed and acquainting myself with the various features of my bedroom ceiling, not really feeling motivated to do much else besides watch television coverage of the hurricane disaster. On the plus side careerwise, I've been reading some school books. And generally I've been working on becoming a better person overall. More on all of this later, I suppose. However, I figured it was time for a blog check in. Enjoy the picture of the cat.

Half a Month

According to the statistics on the blogging software here, it has been about a half of month since I last posted anything here. The classic excuse is to say that I have been way too busy to post anything on the site, but to be honest, that is not the whole explanation. In some ways, these last three weeks have been a serious period of introspection for me. My school career is finally at a crossroads. After several meetings with administration, professors, and various other bureaucratic University officials, the only thing left for me to do is my incomplete schoolwork. I can get no further in my academic career unless I show some progress in that regard.

But working things out at school has not been the only thing that has happened during this period. For example, while visiting my parents during the previous week, I nearly broke my foot. While negotiating my way through my mother's office, I stepped on my foot sideways and then fell forward. I think I even heard a loud snap that concerns me. In any event, after a couple of days a limping on an ankle that has swollen up to baseball size, I have developed a rather nice purple bruise. I can walk on it without much pain now, but I still feel a little twinge whenever I move it strangely.


Alsea Falls

The above picture is from a small excursion that I took on my way back home from my parents. A two-hour detour into the Cascade Mountains led to my discovery of Alsea Falls, a secluded state park with a series of hiking trails and connecting campgrounds. Strangely, when I visited the falls they were completely deserted, so I took the opportunity to take some pictures and think about stuff. I think if I get some more time to spend by myself, I'll revisit.

Finally, the other major event to occur during this period was my attending the funeral of a friend. The friend was more than twice my age and was afflicted with emphysema that worsened towards the end of his life. However, during (and after) the brief period in which I knew him--about a year and half--I considered him a very close friend. In some ways, I considered it an honor to be at his funeral and to be able to commemorate his life among his many friends. I only wish I took the opportunity to visit him more before he passed away. Needless to say, the whole experience led me to think about the heavy questions surrounding life, death, and spirituality. I haven't come to any real conclusions about any of those things, but I don't think that it is the point to come to conclusions. Rather, it may be more useful to occasionally consider these things and let them filter through your mind. It may be like letting the rain and sun work on the soil in which a seed is planted. The fruit of such thinking may come later, or may even develop slowly without your noticing, but as long as one thinks about it, the benefit will be there.

The River's Flow

The heat has been killing me lately making it rather difficult to fall asleep at night. Part of the problem is that I really enjoy the cool weather. If the world's thermostat was permanent set at 58 degrees Fahrenheit that would be just fine with me. Of course, there are some who would scoff at the idea of it being hot around here, but then they would also not believe the amount of water I have been drinking lately.


The River

I continue to make progress with work, but I am getting more "down in the mouth" about the prospects of getting it all done properly. Currently, I am studying the concept of cultural formation during the nineteenth century. Add to this a re-reading of Dickens and a book about Victorian Soundscapes. Like other grad. students who post online, I found that it helps to leave the laptop at home when I do my reading. A legal pad of paper seems like a good place to take notes. I've also found, in regards to my comprehension process, that it helps to read chapters or essays first, then re-read them with note taking in mind. I am still grappling with how to form these thoughts into a cogent essay, but slogging through the reading is helping relieve some of the stress of figuring out what to say. The kind help and emotional support from friends and family has been the greatest help to me, especially during the last few weeks. I'm not sure they'll know how grateful I really am. Also of great help has been a short dip in a cool river during a brief break. And if the weather continues like it has been, I might just repeat it.

Napping

Okay--so it has been way too long since I have last posted, but that has been because of a personal slump that I feel I am now just coming out of. And as far as the slump goes, everyone who knows me has seen it manifested as long naps during the day. The dreams asscoiated with these naps have been interesting. A few of them concerned my future (or hopes) as a professor. The one from yesterday included rafting down a river to escape alien oppression in a matrix style reality. I escaped with Gordon from Seasame Street with a freeze beam. (Thank you pop culture for shaping my subconscious.) Also, my allergies have acted up during the last week, so things have been just a hair's breadth away from miserable.

But a week of so-called rest and a visit with friends have helped me get back on my feet enough to get some work done. I think it was some chinese food and a desert cafe that really hit the spot. (Well, really it was the friends there that made the difference.) Once I finally get things sorted out on the personal level and get the ball rolling on my school-work, I think I am going to devote some more time to the artistic things in life. Sketching, maybe even experimenting with watercolor, is something that I would like to in the future. I'll try to post more in the future, but only after I have something to report about the work I have completed. (On that note, I have been to my office, checked my office mail, and renewed several of my library books about colonialism and the victorian era. That should indicate the direction of my studies for the next few days.)

Summer Reflection

I really should be posting here more often. Despite my good intentions, I seem to let an average of week slip by before I manage to get something new up on the web. Perhaps that is because I haven't really had much to say, or my seemingly inexhaustible supply of complaints about the amount of work I have is boring even me. It seems that during the last couple of months my personal life has reached a state that it seems difficult to sort it out online anymore.


Blue Forest

The biggest factor in my life currently is that I am still trying to cope with the recent breakup with my girlfriend. Add to that a host of personal issues/problems (or character flaws) that influences everything I seem to put my eyes on. Each day there seems to be something new to miss, something else to regret. But not everything is gloomy; in some ways, I am finding small ways to pull out a crevasse of inertia. Metaphorically, I think I am beginning to see the dawn horizons on my overall work problems, a horizon that fills me with a small measure of hope. For example, I am through several chapters of Elizabeth Gaskell's Mary Barton. Even though the descriptions of real life poverty in 19th century England are a little depressing, it feels good to know that I am getting through the work in the field which I have chosen. I hope that things will begin to pick up even faster over the next couple of days.

As a side note to the previous post, I probably will not be taking classes this summer as that might be more of a significant distraction than a help. But in some ways, the new routines I am currently establishing should give me the same help that taking regular classes would.

Decisions

In the next couple of days, I have to decide whether or not to take summer classes from the University. The drawback is that I still have a lot of catch up work to do from previous terms, and of course, the summer class would potentially take time and thought away from that effort. But the benefit to this plan, a very tempting benefit, is the money I would get from financial aid, aid which might chase the proverbial wolf from the door for a month or two. (Actually, the money would be part of the aid that I did not use during spring term, so if I don't use this money during summer term, it is gone forever.)


Decisions

If I took an easy course, perhaps one which required little thought or effort, I might be able to pull it off without any problem. There may not be such a course as offerings are limited and my thinking could loosely be categorized wishful. But, without rationalizing too much, getting to campus on a regular basis may also help me develop a routine, which may also help my effort to get my other work done. I'm still debating the whole thing.

Frankly, my depression has done more to hinder getting work done than the lack of money, but I think things are turning around. I'm still trying to emotionally cope with the breakup with my girlfriend. My stress relieving techniques, watching television and eating junk-foods, is not serving me very well, but I never thought that they would. I still miss her. (Insert a heavy sigh here.)

Tomorrow, I take my bird to the vet which--thanks to the generosity of my sister--is actually possible. The bird's tail feathers, which had fallen out, are halfway grown back in and her injury seems completely healed. It is kind of amazing to see how fast those feathers grow. But now, seeing as it is 10:30, it is time to end this post and put the bird to bed.

Free Dinner

It has been hot around here lately, which isn't so bad for me during the day, but at night things get to be a little unbearable. The afternoon heat seeps into the walls and then pours slowly out at night in a claustrophobia-inducing miasma of dark warmth. I try not to stay up too late watching television, but is sometimes hard to go to sleep at a decent hour under a blanket of heat.

The other day, I decided to indulge in my bad habit of eating fast food. Although I had a good breakfast of eggs, toast, and whatnot, I skipped lunch and when 9:00 p.m. rolled around, I figured that Burger King was a good enough place to fill my belly. And, when I say fill my belly, I mean just that; after as many hamburgers as I have eaten in my life time, they all have that same cardboard-bland-like taste. I should have cooked dinner, but like I said, it is a bad habit.


Night Mountain

So, I drove eight blocks down to the restaurant, pulled up to the drive-thru speaker and ordered a number one with a coke. (For those of you who do not eat at Burger King, a number one is a whopper, fries, and a drink: $4.29 where I live.) As I pulled around the building, I saw a man--who looked homeless--digging through the garbage. As I drove around him, he had found a hamburger that someone had thrown away. He held it in his hand as he continued to search the trash can. It seemed as if he was looking for more food.

I pulled up to the pickup window, paid my money, and waited the few minutes to get my order. None of the employees seemed to have noticed the man, otherwise, I am sure that they would have told him to leave. In my several previous trips to fast food restaurants, I have been occasionally asked by homeless people to buy them sandwiches, and I have seen the restaurant employees chase these people away.

The man who had been digging in the trash for food left by the time that I got my order, but I drove back behind the building and tracked him down a couple blocks away. He was walking through the parking lot of an industrial building. "Hey! Buddy," I called out to him. "Are you hungry?" He stopped a looked at me for a brief second before answering that he was. He looked a little embarrassed to admit that fact. He also seemed to recognize that I was going to give him my all food, the whole order, which I did. After I handed the meal over, I drove to the next fast food restaurant, McDonald's, and got another meal for myself.

Injured Bird

Okay, so the other day, I decided that I was having kind of a bad day. It was already late afternoon, I was tired, but I needed to do much more work to get caught up for the day. It involved reading and writing, and I was already overwhelmed with that. I was also a bit depressed for various personal reasons that I won't go into. Since I had not eaten anything all day, I figured that the least I could do was buy some fast food and go to the local park. Fast food is a bad habit that I am trying to break, but since I needed to really get out of the house and I did not want to cook, I told myself that a burger would be a quick indiscretion.

After purchasing a meal I felt guilty for eating, I drove up to the city park on top of the hill. It is a nice park where you have to walk west for ten minutes to get a tremendous view of the entire city. Although there are some great trees with a lovely canopy, the view is high enough up to see the whole valley in which the town is nestled.

Finding a relatively secluded spot away from the occasional joggers and bicyclists, I sat down, ate, and opened a book. The breeze was cool and the sun was warm, and I was engrossed in my book. After about twenty or thirty minutes, something small jumped out of the tree at my head. I recovered a few seconds later to realize that a bird had just flew over my shoulder by only a couple of feet. And then I noticed that it wasn't a regular park bird, but a yellow and white cockatiel. It was obviously somebody's pet.


Injured Cockatiel

I sat and watched the bird as it watched me in return. Of course, I wondered where it had come from, but I did not see anyone searching the park with a bird cage in hand. Nor did I remember seeing any lost bird signs posted anywhere as I had driven up to the park. It appeared to me that the bird was a little distressed. It was shivering, fluffed up, and it seemed to be trying to gather the courage to dive bomb me again. I stood up and stretched out my arms. After was seemed like another thirty minutes of me looking like a statue, after a couple of more dive bombs by the bird, it glided out of the tree and landed on my shoulder.

My concern for the bird shifted slightly towards myself in that I now wondered what I was going to do next. I figured that I should try to take it back to my car and search for its owner. Slowly I began walking down the hill with the bird perched precariously on my shoulder. A few people, mostly joggers, walked by and gave me odd looks. One person asked me how I had trained my bird to stay on my shoulder outside. I explained the situation and asked if they were missing a bird. The stranger answered no, but his energetic dog frightened the bird back in the trees. At this point, I figured that the bird was not going to come back. But, as I did not try to harm it while we walked down the hill, it trusted me enough to come back to my shoulder after another patient twenty minutes. Taking no chance this second time, I grabbed the bird and walked the rest of the way to my car.

I drove around the neighborhood for an hour trying to locate someone who was missing their bird, but no luck. Long story short: the bird you see in the picture above has been with me for the past five days. It resides in a cage in my living room. A trip to the veterinarian confirmed that the bird had been injured by some other small animal. I think that contributed to the bird's decision to trust me, a total stranger. I will continue to search for the the bird's owner for a while, but so far nothing has turned up. It looks I will be keeping this bird for some time to come. Any suggestions for a name? (She's a female).

Status Report

It has been awhile since I have last posted here, but I've been alternating between doing work and catching up on sleep. Personal issues have kept me from getting everything I had planned done. However, I have managed to do quite a bit already. The most significant of which is a working bibliography for my next report. I still have a ton of reading to do, which I'm working on right now.


Rainy Day

I no longer have access to a digital camera. I used to be able to check one out from the college library, but that is no longer an option. I don't forsee having to stop posting pictures here on my site because I still have a few on my laptop that I have yet to post. The other day, I foolishly tried to win one. I won't explain how, except I will mention that it involved staying up nineteen hours in a row. And even after all that, I'm pretty sure I did not win. Oh well. Lesson learned.

Recovery

Some days ago, I got a phone call from the police informing me that my car had been found. As I mentioned in the previous post, I had been through this whole process before, but even still, it was still a little nerve-wracking. It seems as if I had been holding back my emotions until my car was found because some anxiety and apprehension came creeping back after I hung up the phone. The cop had said that he would wait about a half an hour for me to show up, after which time the car may be impounded.

I quickly checked the Internet to find out how to get to where the cop said the car was, which was about ten minutes north of where I live. I printed the directions, and drove the rental car back to the rental office. I tried to return it, figuring I could get a free ride to where my car was. And although I was in the office behing the counter, the manager unfortunately said that they were closing for the day and did not have the time to take their car back or drive me to mine. I couldn't stay to argue, not that I would have anyway, so I left without saying much beyond a mumbled "Ok," and I drove the rental out to my car.

When I got to the intersection where my stolen car had been abandoned, I saw the sheriff's deputy waiting for me in his patrol car. We both got out of our vehicles, and after assuring himself that I was who I said I was, and not like the disheveled homeless guy I looked like, we examined at the car togther. Although it was obvious that the theif (or thieves) had rifled through it looking for things to steal or sell, it was equally obvious that they hadn't stole anything. The ignition cover around the steering column was damaged. The cop said it looked like they "popped" the ignition. As my car was most definitely the huge pile orangutan crap that it appeared to be, the cop did not wait around too long to get any details. But before he left, he did tell me that he had recovered another stolen car, almost exactly like mine, in the same area just a day before. Apparently, Hondas made before 1996 are easy to steal. Just my luck.

Now by myself, I stood out in the street trying to figure what to do next. My immediate problem was that I now had two cars in one place and needed to get them both back home. After making a couple of phone calls to local friends who were not home, I slowly realized that I needed to drive the rental home and get a taxi back to the intersection. As I drove home in the rental, it was starting to get a little dark. It took me longer to search through the phonebook for a taxi than it did for the taxi to arrive to pick me up. The driver said almost nothing. He was listening to some real-estate investment scheme on the radio. I didn't feel like interuppting him too much. Thirteen bucks and an hour and a half later, I had my car back.

I'm glad the whole experience is over, and it is nice that I have my car back, but my insurance rates are going to go up (of course), and the deductible I need to pay for the repair is too much for me to even bother fixing the ignition cover. I bought a club, the cost of which will be barely covered by the small insurance payment I will get. In the midst of all of this, I'm trying to get my work done, but things haven't been going great for me during the last few weeks. Intellectually, I know that things can better, but right now, I'm struggling to keep on tops of things.