There is so much more satisfaction in sacrifice these days. Like, plow through the entire 8 hour yuppie gig (and actually sweating a bit now, mountains of things to do), with an hour of soul-cleansing exertion, and then a few hours of class or reading or writing or all three and then at some point drifting off to sleep in the hum of my computer. It makes the time in which I'm outside of my home/office feel vigorous and rare and seizable. It makes communication with loved ones more vital and enthusiastic. It makes that one night out on the town immensely valuable and tremendous.

Some things I have (re)learned this semester:
School can be painfully socially awkward. I have a colleague who I think has a man-crush on me, or at least wants to be my dear friend. But I can't have a conversation with him. Like a Seinfeld episode but with more raw nerve-endings and body-odor.

No one can really teach you to do this thing. People can suggest what absolutely does not work and give you a sounding board to throw some verbage at; maybe point out a few pitfalls. But then of course those are the things that now become interesting. For example, in a set of "Writing Don'ts" the suggestion is given that we should not write anything with fist/gunfights, car chases, courtrooms (or any other heavily repeated television/movie premise). Now all I want to do is write an episode of Law and Order that is heavily ironic and absurd.

Students' views of their instructor is wholly related to how said professor reacts to the student (in the like/dislike spectrum). We all to this to varying degrees. A talkative (almost chatty) and tolerant professor repeatedly shoots down a student's (see 2 paragraphs up) out-of-context remarks and his response is that she is not open to new ideas. Lest our brains fall out.

I have forgotten thousands and thousands of dollars worth of education. And somehow it is still worth every cent.

The entire world is cliche unless you really look at it, and then its all painfully unique and flawed.


Time is not a ribbon or an arrow or a quantum ball of possibility, but we can perhaps start defining it by what it is not: Time is not love.

But love has a huge time component.

If you commit yourself, honestly, things fall into place. Far from perfectly, but things will absolutely happen.

If you strip a thing of all its supposed universal relevance it somehow then becomes universally relevant.

Time is not really running out, but expanding in all directions. I can sort of feel that for a few seconds as I'm falling asleep.