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Wednesday, Nov. 16, 2005 - 5:11 p.m.

Snow!

Thursday, Nov. 10, 2005 - 1:31 p.m.

Movie Review: Elizabethtown

I went to this movie with friends, and we knew it was going to bad...quite possibly really bad. It wasn't bad. It was epically awful and disastrous. Do not see this movie. Cameron Crowe shot a bunch of random scenes and then cut and paste them together and then played good music over them, giving nothing to the movie but ruining the classic songs.

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On a different note, the once interesting Mister Cup's Poetry Page has, well, gone to the extreme of stupidity. Okay, so maybe it was never truly interesting, even for me, who actually knows the fabled Mister Cup. Unfortunately, said Mister doesn't really understand the possibilities the world of the Internet, and this is very sad for him. The whole blog has dissolved into an all-out commenting brawl. Why do I care? I am not sure. Just thought I would throw that out there.

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I must go to class, my writing workshop, which I can't say I enjoy much, but workshops are just that way. Some people hate them and other love them. Perhaps I will go grab coffee. God this post is bad. Forgive, please, and go read something interesting and important.

Wednesday, Nov. 09, 2005 - 8:27 a.m.

I'm hungry. I never eat breakfast on Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, because I am lazy and I tired and never wake up more than half an hour before I need to be at school. This is not good. Because I am hungry.

I have been amazed and pleasantly shocked by the de-stressing nature of knitting. I have been knitting for at least an hour every night, and I feel happier all around. I have also been watching a disgusting amount of Gilmore Girls, which I don't want to talk about because now I have the theme song for that show stuck in my head and I HATE the theme song for that show.

This is a terribly uninteresting post, but it is fair to say that my life is not terribly interesting right now. That being said, I'm hungry.

Wednesday, Nov. 02, 2005 - 9:01 p.m.

Writer E. Annie Proulx is best know for her book The Shipping News, which I have yet to read. Don't hate me.

What I have read is Close Range: Wyoming Stories, the last story of which is Brokeback Mountain. This story is about two young (19 year old) cowboys in Wyoming who forge not only a lifelong friendship, but also a lifelong passion and love for eachother. It is easily the most moving story I have ever read, easily my favorite short story. I love this story. I cannot convey through the written word how good and wonderful this story is.

The movie version of this story comes out December 9th. Every day for the past week or so I have been watching the trailer for the movie. Even just watching the preview breaks my heart because it hints so beautifully at the heart of the story itself.

First off, as far as the sex part goes, as much as guys like to watch women kiss (and I know this thouroughly embarrasses any family members of mine who might be reading this), women often have the same reaction to men kissing. In all honesty, watching Jake Gyllenhaal and Heath Ledger kiss is going to be damn cool.

But, more than that, this story and now this movie are breaking the tabboo not only of homosexuality, but of homosexuality in the West, in the most masculine stereotype our nation and even our world has ever constructed. That's what made the story powerful; that's what makes this movie so anticipated.

This story isn't about sex, and that it takes place in a wholly unforgiving setting (aka, the highly masculine West) is what makes the fact that it is a romance not only tolerable but enlightening and hopeful. That love can come into existence in the most unlikely of places, not just physically but culturally, mentally, and socially, is not inspiring but hopeful in a quiet and unsettling way. If these two young, worse-for-the-wear cowboys can find connection and meaning (aka, love) in a world that limits them, love, in the most cliche of terms, conquers all. Or, I would like to say, love says a big "FUCK YOU" to the world that wishes to limit it.

But, Brokeback Mountain, the story most especially, isn't so lofty in ideals and philosophy as I have expounded. Its pure simplicity is what makes it real and beautiful. These two young men are not poets or artist or philosophers. They are just cowboys who love the land and eachother.

I would like to think that those who feel homosexuality is a sin or bad or against the laws of nature would be changed by this story. That, though, is naive. In the end, I hope we can all see ourselves in this story, the deep yearning to be loved and love, the confusion that comes from that love, and the ultimate loss of what we cannot control.

Saturday, Oct. 29, 2005 - 12:54 p.m.

I think it is about time I give a good update about my life in the lovely Moscow, Idaho, the largest Moscow (of 9 or 10) in the US, don't ya know? Here goes:

Drinking: lots and lots of coffee...I'm actually becoming sick of coffee.

Eating: when I am hungry, and motivated to get off my ass and make something for myself, unless my friend, Vi, is cooking for me, then I eat a lot.

Reading: Oh god, too many things. As Eve Said to the Serpent; Housekeeping; The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression; American Jesus: How the Son of God Became a National Icon; The Alphabet Versus the Goddess: The Conflict Between Word and Image. No, I don't get out much.

Listening to: Fiona Apple's Extraordinary Machine ad nauseum.

Writing: stuff.

Thinking: my freshmen students are going to be in for a shock when they realize their professors will happily fail papers in which they misspell the professors' names. In fact, my freshmen will be in for a world of shock once they leave Writing 101. They also don't realize that when I ask if they have questions, they can ask questions. Really.

Wishing: the guy I like would make a goddamn move.

Learning: to be patient, endlessly patient.

The end of the semester is actually coming upon me. I have figured some things out, among them that you don't tell anyone in an MFA program that you are not a big fan of Ernest Hemingway's work. It will be a relief to have this intiating semester over. I realize there will be more to endure and learn, but at least now I am here and officially surviving.

Tonight I am going to a Halloween party, which will be outside, and I am trying to come up with a costume that will keep me warm and comfortable. I have decided that Halloween is not my favorite holiday. Isn't it enough that most people where emotional masks all their lives?

Saturday, Oct. 29, 2005 - 12:47 p.m.

I wanted to draw your attention to the new link I have added under my interesting people heading. My friend, Dr. S, is the Mister Cup behind Mistercup's Poetry Page. He is a very amusing fellow, but be warned that if one of the links on his page sounds like a pornography site, it probably is. And yes, the link directly after that is to the Vatican's website. Don't ask; the rest of us aren't sure either.

Thursday, Oct. 27, 2005 - 6:12 p.m.

When Miers was nominated for the Supreme Court, my mother and father guessed that she was really a red herring, that Bush knew she didn't stand a chance and would sweep in with another canidate that would then be quickly accepted. I am not suprised that Miers withdrew, but I am worried about the consequences.

Wednesday, Oct. 26, 2005 - 12:47 p.m.

Yesterday was a bad day. I recieved my professor's comments on an essay I had written, and they were not positive. I have really been struggling to keep up my confidence in the face of not only having to have my work torn apart but also dealing with transition to a new and new people. I am surviving. I spoke with another professor of mine, and she gave me really helfpful perspective on the whole situation. Plus, she is going to look at my essay, help me figure out what the hell I am doing. She mentioned that she might have me go through some writing exercises to come closer to what I am trying to express in my essay. I am excited about this. I am ready to work on my writing muscles, so to speak.

Things, then, are looking up. Tonight I am attending a reading by Lan Samantha Chang, who is a big deal, as she will be the first woman director of the Iowa Writers' Workshop come January. I'm feeding my friend, K, pizza before this and need to run out for ingredients. The day is dark and rainy. I had been complaining abou the unnaturally warm weather lately, and while I like the rain, I now wish for snow. It seems I just can't be pleased.

Monday, Oct. 24, 2005 - 4:22 p.m.

I have a lot to do. I have to correct over 50 English 101 papers, and I don't want to. I would rather be sleeping. Right now I am sitting in my pedagogy class, surfing the internet. This is bad. I should be paying attention, or distracting myself with something productive.

I spent this past weekend in Montana, doing nothing really, beyond kissing the baby and cleaning out our half a dozen vehicles. I needed this down time, especially to remember that my time in Idaho is not the whole of my worldly existence. I become so wrapped up in what I am doing here that I forget that there is a world outside of my life here.

Okay, now I need to pay attnention to what is going on. Well, maybe I'll do a crossword as well.

Wednesday, Oct. 19, 2005 - 1:54 p.m.

Felt ill this morning, so decided to cancel my classes. While I feel a little guilty for this, I know there was nothing important going on that I couldn't teach on Friday. I feel my students could stand to have the class speeded up a bit. I really do have intelligent students, even if they are disinterested often.

Another reason I need to take the morning off was because yesterday was a hard day. In my workshop class, my essay was on the sacraficial altar. This is my second essay for this class, and while it is better than the last essay I handed in, it still illicted confusion from my classmates and teacher. I wonder at this.
First, I know I am having trouble with organizational principles in my essays. I have a tendency to wander off on a detail I feel is important but turns out not to be. Yet, any random person would be surprised to find how little helpful information is given in a workshop sometimes. That's just the nature of the workshop, and it is debated among MFA programs to a certain extent. But, the workshop tends to be emotionally draining, because one is nervous ahead of time, during, and then, instead of relief afterward, an anxious need to revise the essay. It is a huge vat of emotions that any honest writer would say is exhausting.

So, that is another reason I took the morning off. I am proud to say I am paying enough attention to what I need to judge taking the morning off appropriate. Anyway, I still have a class to attend this afternoon. I could skip it, but I am feeling better, and I want to see my friends. Plus, I should get out of my apartment at least once today. You know, to breath in that nice smoggy, Moscow air.

Friday, Oct. 07, 2005 - 10:17 a.m.

My head hurts. I am tired. I have a lot to do. I have to revise an essay for my workshop class by Thursday. This is stressful. I have to correct two classes worth of three assignments. This is stressful. Basically, I am tired and stressed. I need to knit more.

My freshmen students fall into two categories:

1) over achievers worried about every single word they write

2) those who think reading is an unnneccessary habit to cultivate

My life is nothing but stress. Sort of.

Tuesday, Sept. 27, 2005 - 10:43 p.m.

You know you want to believe.

Monday, Sept. 19, 2005 - 7:15 p.m.

Despite the fact that I am busy every day, I have nothing new to report. I am continuously groucy at one person whose identity and worser qualities will not be disclosed here. This person is not one of my students.

On a happier note, K and I cannot agree on whether or not critter chinos are a good investment. Who wouldn't where a pair of pants with turtles embroidered on it?

Thursday, Sept. 15, 2005 - 7:13 p.m.

In response to several strongly worded emails regarding my sparse postings as of late, here is an update to my busy but kind of uninteresting life.

I teach two English 101 classes. UofI has a sequence of basic writing classes that freshman either need to take or test out of, and where they are placed initially is based on their standardized test scores. Those in need of the most basic writing skills are in English 090, which is remedial. Those students who are 'average' are in English 101, and English 102 is for those who somehow able to manage to test high on the verbal section of the standardized tests but don't neccessarily have any writing skill whatsoever.

I teach two sections of English 101. I teach Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays in the mornings. Both my classes are actually fairly astute and friendly, though diffident at any given point. I enjoy teaching my students. For the most part, they are pretty damn cool.

As a student I take three classes. The first is a continuation of my training as a teaching assisstant. That's all I am going to say about it. I am also taking Writing Literary Nonfiction with Mary Clearman Blew and Nonfiction Techniques with Kim Barnes. Both are great teachers with very different teaching styles. One class is in the evening, so I tend to start to wane in that class, but I shall persevere.

In about a week I will be in a workshop with visiting writer Tony Earley. Despite this also being in the evening, I am very excited about meeting Mr. Earley. What I have read of Somehow Form a Family is amazing. Despite the fact that my father reads this journal, I am going to say that I will buy this book for him for Christmas. Now he knows and will not buy it for himself. I think he will enjoy it.

Currently I am reading a lot of student papers and journals. More than ever I appreciate my teachers' time. Correcting papers is time consuming, but it must be done. For my techniques class, I must read Jarhead. So far, it is interesting and disturbing. I think both the liddle bruder and my father will be interested in reading this book.

In fact, I need to be reading right now. I would like to finish Somehow Form a Family and must finish Jarhead. I have no knitting updates. I found, though, that if I don't knit for weeks or even days, I begin to have increased anxiety. Knitting calms me down. I am simply working on a garter stitch scarf out of some novelty yarn.

Here's to hoping the next two weeks won't find me sadly absent from this journal.

Thursday, Sept. 15, 2005 - 10:45 a.m.

Several things my freshman students don't quite comprehend:

1) Anyone can buy a stapler at WalMart or at the dollar store. Anyone!

2) Getting into groups of three to four excludes being in groups of two or five.

3) Staring at me when I ask a question doesn't consitute an answer.

4) I actually do exist in real life, outside of the classroom, even off campus!

One thing my freshman students understand perfectly:

1) Papers are on time if they are handed into my mailbox before 5 pm on the day they are due.

Tuesday, Sept. 06, 2005 - 11:23 a.m.

Now that I am sufficiently hanging on by a thread, a state of existence that, no doubt, will be mine for the next three years, I have a few minutes to type a bit of an update here. I am going to use my favorite form: the list. All praise the mighty and delightful list!

1) Where: Moscow, Idaho; University of Idaho, Masters in Fine Arts Program

2) When: For the last three weeks and for the next three years.

3) Who: Many people, but five close friends you will hear much about:

K, fiction, who is from Wyoming and has a serious love for cross country and John Cusak movies.

T, nonfiction, who is from Virginia/D.C., who is a non-practicing Irish Catholic and looks like a non practing Irish Catholic.

M, nonfiction, from Indiana and whom I convinced to buy a chifforobe for $429. Dark broody writer.

V, poetry, from New York (not the city), has gorgeous blue hair (dyed) and a love for tea.

S, poetry, whom we call Dr. S, not because he has a PhD, but because he gesticulates as if he thinks he is a doctor, from Boston, complete with accent.

I rarely go a day, so far, without seeing these friends. They have made these last few weeks more than bearable. We have sarcastically deemed ourselves a clique, of which, according to them, I am the lifetime leader. If you know me, please appreciate the irony here.

4) How: Just barely.

5) What: Writing, reading, yelling at my freshman students.

Let's hope it won't be another few weeks before I write here again. I make no promises. Except the one where I yell at my freshman students. That's kinda fun.

Wednesday, Aug. 31, 2005 - 7:24 p.m.

September 9th! September 9th people!

Wednesday, Aug. 24, 2005 - 9:36 a.m.

Heart-stopping moment of my day:

Having my students turn in an exam and seeing my name under the heading of 'instructor'.

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