Monday, January 22, 2007


The best thing about the first day of classes (for most) is that they usually don’t last for the entire scheduled period. I guess this is entirely too unfortunate for all of the happy, yet na├»ve, college students who are paying for this loss of time. Ignorance is bliss, I guess.

For me, today, I’m on the opposite end of the spectrum. As it usually goes, students have about a week to “drop/add” their classes based upon changes in program, load quality, and overall like/dislike of a specific class. Professors usually don’t take attendance during this week, for obvious reasons.

I am experiencing the latter; I need to drop/add classes and I don’t know which to take. This semester marks the official switch from the MA to the MAT program for me and because of this I am without definite classes. I am waiting for a response from my new “advisor” as so I can figure out what I need to do; hopefully without getting too far behind.

[Side Note: It’s a bittersweet change. I know I am making an intelligent career decision but at the same time I am going to miss the English classes that fueled my passions.]

So as most students crave for the opportunity to be able to legally miss class, I am pretty upset that I don’t have a schedule right now, and I am not pleased to be missing anything that I am paying for. It’s like people who try snowboarding for the first time—they pay $30 for the lift ticket and $20 for rentals—they find out that this process is much harder than they would have imagined; they do one run. For $50 I’m going to go down that slope more than once, that’s for sure.

I write to calm my nerves. Cheers.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007


“It’s safe to say I really don’t know a think, but I choose to believe.”
--Dustin Kensrue

It’s finally starting to feel like winter around here. I’ve been miserable lately; I can’t explain it either. I haven’t been able to read the books that, during the semester, I was dying to read. I had high aspirations to start working on the novel that I’ve been pushing aside for six months now.

This struggle seems to be a little more of a personal foofaraw. Let’s just hope that it is trivial.

For the first time I went to the slopes by myself, for a couple of runs. I’ve come to find out two things from doing this:

  1. It’s not a big deal to go snowboarding on your own.
  2. Just like taking a long drive, the tranquility of the lift and the isolation of snowboarding without distractions is a great time to think. Between the river and the ravens, right?

Some of the things that I mused through while on my own:

  1. I’m hoping to be more ostentatious.
  2. Having a snowboard that actually fits you makes it much more enjoyable.
  3. My problems with writing.

I’m trying to become more pretentious as to not hide my greatness (see it’s working already). Sometimes I think of things and keep them to myself and smile—giving people the benefit of the doubt; for what reason do I do this though? Here comes that notion of tact again.

It seems that there is a greater debate as to whether height has a true bearing on the size of a snowboard that one should use. A couple of years ago, when I bought my first snowboard, I was told that it should stand equal to the height of my nose (or a little bit less). This past year when I bought a new one I was told that snowboards don’t know height (leaving weight as the bigger--but not only-- determiner) So my newest installment is a 154 while my original was a 164. I must admit that snowboarding is not only more fun, but much easier for me this year. The incompetence of snowboard salesmen and online references which all seem to butt-heads in the proper technique of choosing your hundred-dollar investment is why I will now choose to be more pretentious.

As for my writing problems… I guess I’ve just come to terms that I’ll never be a famous writer. Check that—it’s like McDonald’s’ catch phrase “hey, it could happen!” Plus, maybe someone will find my work after I’m dead. I’ll be a legend.

I’m trying to find out what is different in my life now that is retarding my writing process. Could it be that…

  1. I have a true life goal
  2. I’m spending much more time with my girlfriend
  3. I don’t know why, but I believe.

I don’t know what is impeding my writing, but I do know that I will fight it and win. But, for whatever reason, I’ve decided to put my novel on the backburner for a while. Blogging will suffice. Cheers.