Dear Supergroup,

Sorry guys, I just remembered that it's my turn to pick the topic.
I'd like to try something a little different this week. You know those advice columns in newspapers and magazines that you always just have to read? Don't worry, it's not just you. We all do that.

This week I'd like our bloggers to each write a short advice-seeking letter for a post... and I'd like our commentors to respond to it. You don't have to have ever commented before to play along-- if you have advice to give, let's hear it! My only request is that if it's not a made up problem, bloggers, please at least disguise it enough so we don't know who you're talking about. Below is my letter, and I hope for lots of good advice!

Dear Supergroup,

My roommate, "Emma," and I have shared an apartment for 4 years now. In fact, my parents stopped me from moving in with a guy friend (because of the male-female factor) 4 years ago, so I moved in with Emma. We share everything-- clothes, stories, chores, sometimes even beds. We're super best friends. Lately, though, things have been awkward. A couple weeks ago, we were watching a girlie movie on the couch and I don't know what came over me, but I leaned over and kissed her. She kissed me back, but didn't say anything. Since then, Emma's standing a lot closer when we're cooking together, or coming into my bed most nights, and touching me a lot more often. I know I'm not gay because I was raised in a Christian household, but I really like the attention from her. What does this mean? How should I respond?

--Confused in a 2BR/1BA

First, shadows.

Hello, all!

I've missed posting for the last couple weeks because I was on vacation in Japan. Quick rehash: I had a great trip in which I got to stay with one of my best friends in Kawagoe (outside of Tokyo), climb Mt. Fuji, visit shrines and temples in Karakura, do karoke in one night Tokyo, let a Japanese family dress me up in a yukata, and even visit co-blogger Martin in Kyoto. There will be pictures and more blogging to follow, but I wanted to comment on the first topic that happened while I was gone, shadows, because I had two pretty great experiences with them while I was in Japan.

In Kyoto, I visited several different shrines and temples, but my favorite was Kyomizu-dera. As I wandered the expansive grounds here and tried to avoid the busloads of tour groups, I happened across a little man holding a grainy picture of a rock next to a flight of steps leading underground. He explained in broken English that I could pay 100 yen to walk through a dark path until I found this rock and, once I did, I could place my hands on it and any wish I made would come true. Well, that's worth 100 yen to me, so I took off my shoes and paid up. 'Keep your left hand on this railing here,' he told me, leading me to the stairs, and I headed down. At first, I was holding a smooth, normal railing and could see well enough from the light coming down from the stairs. But then, after a few twists and turns, the railing turned into circular knobs that made me think of Buddhist prayer beads, and the pathway got completely dark. I mean, my eyes were making up their own images, dark. It reminded me of visiting caves in Georgia as a kid when the tour guide would turn off the lights to show us how dark darkness can really be. My face passed through a curtain that made me gasp quite loudly. I continued walking along and began to feel panicked-- "what the hell was I doing? here I was, in a foreign country, all by myself, and I paid some guy to let me go down into a dark hole? I'm not even wearing shoes! Who knows where I'll end up! I'm just wandering defenseless through some twisting cave? I could fall down a shaft and end up for sale in China! I can't even see where I am!!" But I kept walking, pressing my hand over that railing one bead at a time, stepping slowly in my socks. Eventually, I realized, "you know, I may end up in China. But I'll just have to deal with that when it comes. There's no use panicking about it right now where there's nothing to do. Just keep walking, keep following these beads, and let's just see where you end up." I felt relief, calm spread over me. I took a few deep breaths and another step. Suddenly, to my left, a soft shaft of light appeared, shining directly on the face of a huge granite boulder, grey and unpolished except for a zen circle and some Japanese characters engraved on the top. I followed the beads over and rested my hands on it-- even then I could only see my hands, not even my wrists, in the darkness. I was so moved by this that I actually started to cry a little. After "making my wish," I found the beads again that lead me around one short turn and back suddenly into the light, and the spell was broken.

The other experience I had with shadows deserves a picture. I mentioned that I climbed Mt. Fuji. This involved me joining a Japanese tour group (oops, thought it was English-speaking!) and starting our climb at noon on Monday. We climbed until evening when we stopped at a rest house for some food and a few quick hours of sleep. Then, at 2am, we got up again and climbed the rest of the way up the mountain so we could see the sunrise from the top, above the clouds. There are lots of stories with this but, for the sake of abbreviating this already long post, I'll just mention that after sunrise me and a few other people walked around the volcano's crater to the west side, which is the highest point and actual peak. Here, I was able to see this:



The shadow of Fuji-san on the top of clouds. Incredible.

Ok, I'm already late for work, so more later from me. I know I have a lot of catching up to do!

jane's topic(s)

haven't read the book - sorry. i'm starting to lean towards brave new world with regard to precognitive whatnot. not that everyone's constantly on drugs or anything, but the feel of it...
traditional "family values" are less important to people now than they used to be (thank goodness) though not quite to the extent that "mother" is a bad word. kids are shipped out sooner though - day care, preschool, all the way through college. i see lots of kids coming through the y who barely know their parents. granted, by putting them in ymca programs, the parents are showing at least a little bit of caring about the kids, but it's not like stay-at-home moms back in the day.
we're not all on soma all the time, but there's much more widespread use of recreational drugs than there used to be - and it's more widely accepted. for example, we just had to update our job applications to make one question ask if "except for cases involving marijuana more than two years ago have you ever been convicted of a crime?"
and the mantra/sex parties? we separate them. we've got yoga, and we've got every crazy sex thing anyone could want (jay & silent bob got to watch a guy do it with a donkey). it used to be shocking to hear about porno and masturbation, but after that one seinfeld episode... well, both topics are open for discussion.
so yeah. it's still a ways in the future, but i see a brave new world on the horizon (and it has been a while since i've read it, so no doubt there are some obvious points that i missed and will feel stupid about later, but all my books are in boxes right now so i can't go look it up).
finally, i just watched idiocracy last weekend (by beavis and butthead creator mike judge), and it kinda made more sense than i wanted it to. reading and writing were "just for fags" (that's a quote from the movie - i don't hate gay people). the most popular tv show was called "ow, my balls" and involved a guy repeatedly injuring his groin (jackass, anyone?), starbucks sold coffee and sex, and the hospital emergency room attendant plugged health complaints into a pictogram screen to diagnose problems. the president was elected because he was wwe champ 3 years in a row.
i don't think we're close to being idiocrats yet, but i could see us potentially getting there if the masses don't stick to education (and i mean more than just what they get fed in high school and through the media).
i can't think of any more scarily predictable books/movies right now, but i'm sure some other super-bloggers will.
have at it!

missed my post

sorry folks,
i'm moving this week, so i think that's a good enough reason for being late on the shadows topic - which is an easy one for me, although significantly different from all the other posts. here's my shadow:




he's 3 years old and he was rescued off the streets of escondido, ca with his sister when they were about 4 months old. he never quite got used to any humans besides us (there are about four other people who have ever seen him) but to us he is mister demanding. he'll stalk right up to us and demand petting in the squeakiest meow i've ever heard, and he loves people food. he is currently chasing a moth around the apartment. go shadow!

The Political Junkie takes on the YouTube debate

Ken Ruden, NPR's "Political Junkie" discussed the YouTube debate, among other things yesterday, if you're interested.

No one crushes on Cheney, Part 2

Since nobody seems too excited by the transparency theme, I thought I'd share what I heard on Wednesday's edition of Talk of the Nation on NPR. They interviewed one of the co-authors of the series about Cheney that Jen linked to a while back, and it was quite fascinating. Give it a listen!

Hoping For a "V"

Sadly, I have not gotten to read Transparent Society - we don't have it at the library, and currently I am mere pages from finishing Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, so I don't think I would've gotten through it in time for this post anyway. I did however go to his site, though I could only get through the first page before trying to decide between taking a cyanide pill now, or letting the government take me out when I try to run.

Though we may live in a society where technology puts some power in the hands of the people, what do we use it for? To post stuff like this. While it's useful for embarrassing celebrities or holding politicians responsible for off-color remarks, what good has it really done? You could argue that blogs are the ultimate weapon of the people - a chance for us to share ideas and rally around them, but I know what crap I write about. And even if we were in such a dystopian society, why would we even still have the internet? A lot of countries right now restrict what their citizens can gain access to - imagine if it were worse.

As far as a 1984 Orwellian government - I'd have to agree that we're closer to something like that happening. Wasn't Winston's job in the book to go back through and rewrite newspaper articles and historical documents to fit it to the present - like the war that keeps changing enemies - sound a little familiar? Now, I'm sure there's not an administration that couldn't be accused of a little spin, but the fact that a war with Afghanistan quickly turned into a war with Iraq, which looked like it would turn into a war with Iran or Syria - it's ridiculous! Wire-tapping, raising themselves above the Constitution - it's scary to think about.

Switching gears (well, sort of), has anyone else seen Minority Report? I actually kinda liked it when it came out, but Tom Cruise is all kinds of scary crazy now, and it angers me a little to watch his movies. Short synopsis for anyone who hasn't seen it - it's the future, and TC works for a section of the government called precrime. There were triplets born who could see the future, so the government captured them and used them to predict future crimes. TC's job was to take the flashes of info and decipher them, hopefully in time to stop the crime from ever happening. (Yeah - how much would that suck? Getting jailed for a crime you didn't even have a chance to commit.) One day, while doing his job, TC gets a flash, and he's in it, so he goes on the run - there's more, but that's the basic scenario. But that is my ultimate horrifying glimpse of the future - that and V for Vendetta - oh and Children of Men. (Hopefully if that is indeed the future, we'll have a V as well)

A Transparent Society?

I'm currently reading a book written by science fiction author David Brin... but it's non-fiction. It's called The Transparent Society, and it was originally published in 1998. Now, there are quite a few things about this book that are just a little bit freaky... one of which is how it came to be in my possession. A friend of Gwen's gave her this book when she was in college in Alabama. She brought it to Korea and lent it to me. Now that in and of itself is not freaky whatsoever. What is freaky is that inside the front cover is taped a Lake City Community College Library decal! The friend who gave it to Gwen was not from Lake City. Weird huh? Okay, so his grandparents live in Wellborn, so perhaps they stole it from the LCCC library? Anyhoo, now that we've satisfied the LC-centric portion of this blog, let's move on to what's really freaky about this book: the fact that it was published in 1998, meaning that the bulk of it was probably written in 1997.

Now, while I admit that the bulk of 1997-1998 is rather a blur for me.... but one thing that I do clearly recollect is that 1997 was the year when I initially became addicted to the Internet. I don't know how much you remember about late 90s internet, but it was slow ass, lacking in flash, animated clip art and geocities homes sites were the rage, and there was no wikipedia, no YouTube, and the word blog hadn't yet been invented. Then there's this book, The Transparent Society, written way back then.

I'm assuming none of you out there other than Gwen has read this book (although if you have - yay!), so let me do a very brief summary for you. Brin's theory is that technology will influence the evolution of society in one of two ways:

Choice A: Think 1984 - omnipresent government with cameras and computers spying on your every move. Freedom is essentially lost because the government is everywhere, seeing everything you do. Crime diminishes (who wants to go to prison?) although who knows what crimes the government is committing!

Choice B: The citizens take matters - and technology - into their own hands. Everyone owns a digital camera, has an internet connection, and monitors everyone else - and shares what they know. Crime diminishes (who wants their dirty secrets published on the web?) and government becomes incredibly more transparent because the masses are always watching.

This is obviously an incredibly simplistic analysis of The Transparent Society, but there's a lot more on Brin's website if this sort of thing interests you. Just give a thought to recent events that wouldn't have made a splash at all had it not been for some Johnny-on-the-spot with a camera and a YouTube account, such as the Macaca Moment and Bomb Bomb Iran (among many others) and you'll realize that we are well on our way down the path of Choice B.

In line with that theme, later tonight (your time - it'll be sometime tomorrow morning here in Korea) CNN and YouTube will sponsor a Democratic debate unlike any other (and it'll be followed by it's Republican counterpart in September). I'm totally bummed that I won't be able to watch it live - although I rather suspect that I'll be able to download it. For this debate, YouTubers create video questions for the candidates (there are almost 3000 of them, and you can view them here), and CNN will select however many of those questions for use in the debate.

So... things to write about this week (and I'll give you some choices) - What do you think about Brin's theories on transparency and where technology is taking us? Or about YouTube and its impact on politics? The CNN/YouTube debate? (Especially any of you cats who got to watch it!) And, if those topics don't do anything for you, feel free to let me know if you know of any creepy precognitive books/movies. Other than The Transparent Society, the only other thing I can think of is those movies Glenn, Matt and Jordan made in which I was Special Agent Keeler. Who'd'a thunk that would actually happen?

Ploem

Here's a poem in which I tried to use the theme of shadows. It needs some work.

THE THINGS WE OWN AND THE THINGS WE WISH TO OWN

At the gas station before dawn the moths
are huge. The size of dinner plates. Wings
like a paper doll project. Bright colors. Non-
aerodynamic. Gets your heart racing. In a bad
way. So get back in the car already. I told you
this wasn't the sort of place we should stop.
There is still a hum on the air. Something high
pitched. The shadow of the earth crept up on
us somehow. The radio only plays gospel
stations. And even they're not coming in clear.
The CD player broke miles ago. Not that we
could agree on the albums. Above Atlanta
the hills swallowed the major highways. So
suddenly there were curves and even the small
light the stars gave was gone. A runaway mine
cart. The pedals too far from our feet. And then
the hum. It could be power lines if there were
any power lines. It could be cicadas but the only
living things we've seen are the moths and the gas
station attendant. Sometimes the body is at
home in shade. Other times it's a razored snare.
Reason to feathers. When we see a rest area
we will sleep, O, Charon. O, stream of blood.

King of the Shadows

“Even shadows die sometime”, Gabe thought, “when the sky is moonless, void of light - they die”. He snuffed out his cigarette and then chided himself for indulging in his apparent desire to be a 16 yr old goth kid. There was a task at hand, and this was no time for philosophizing, - if you could call it that. Or was it? Death had always brought out his inner Socrates, Kant or Nietzsche.

He hefted the gun in his hand, relishing the weight, the power inherent within. How many times had he used this thing? “Maybe we become the shadows when we die.” If that was so, it wasn’t much of a change of existence for the people he had “taken care of”. People living on the edge of true existence - they were there, visible, but were rarely noticed until night came, and were suddenly transformed into instruments of fear, making their true forms known and causing havoc with others. During daytime they retreated to dark crevices, or were largely ignored by the population, used to seeing them day in and day out.

If that were true, what would happen to him when he died? If he became a shadow too, these people, monsters, could torture him for making them that way. Or he could be relegated to king, out of gratitude for liberating them, freeing them from the shackles of a corporeal body. King of the Shadows. He knew about enslavement himself, but that would all change in a matter of moments. Tonight he was freeing himself from his damned life.

Gabe put his gun against the right temple. The sensation took him back to the beginning of this whole - mess. The flood of emotions - the fear, the hatred, the overwhelming melancholy - made his hand shake, and he lowered the gun, afraid if he took a shot now, he’d miss, and damn himself further.

He took a breath, and resumed the gun’s position. He had to take control of his life now, and this was the only way he saw possible.


He closed his eyes, and braced himself as he pulled the trigger.



The light was blinding, but as Gabe wiped the blood from his hands, he felt he was finally free from his life as a hit man, and free from living in the dark, the world of shadows - for now.

******************************************************************

Ok - sorry if this was a bad and self-indulgent post - it's just the only thing I could think of. I'm not going to be back on a regular schedule until next week, and hopefully then they'll be better. At least I posted on the day I was supposed to this time.

The shadow army, the shadow government

How much do you know about government contractors? I suspect that it might not be all that much - hell, turns out the US government isn't all too sure how many government contractors there are, what they're doing, or how much they're getting paid. Doesn't sound too great now does it?

Before I cop out and post two links to some VERY informative and interesting podcasts on the topic, here's my two cents: A while back, I wrote about my experiences as a government employee. My job was to conduct background investigations on government employees and contractors in need of security clearance. Many contractors were also hired to conduct background investigations. They were doing the same job I was doing, only they got paid based on how many cases they closed. Do you really think that quantity over quality is a good thing in this scenario? And does it surprise you that this was happening under the Bush administration with all it's tough on terror, strong on security rhetoric? Oh, the hypocrisy.

Anyway, I'm running late this morning, so I shall leave you with two podcasts to which you absolutely must listen:

The Rise of Blackwater USA (the shadow army of the US)

Government Contractors (the shadow government of the US)

Off topic

Before I swear off blogging, I thought I'd post this for anyone who may still be interested in the outcome of that gay-bashing robot toilet controversy that became a somewhat hot topic here (at least to some), here's a follow-up story that's worth a read:

Link

It was mercifully deleted from the budget; but the article contains some more interesting tidbits about this situation.

America the great and what's lurking in the shadows

Well howdy doody there cats and kittens, thiseehere blog might be a day late and a dollar short but hopefully its at least enough to get you all through a cup of coffee or whatever it is you drink over there in your own respective areas of the world. I had a lot of trouble getting up the nerve to actually admit all the things I love about America, but here I finally am, perhaps mostly because it is my turn to post the topic for this week as well and I don't want to keep you people waiting too long.

Letssssssseeeeee... America. Yup pretty much I like being in the mountians, in the ocean, or somewhere dodging bullets if I'm back in the states. The last part was a lie. I've never dodged a bullet in my life. By the way, I'm writing this on like 3 hours of sleep and not nearly enough coffee to sustain any kind of logical thought process. But as it were, I do like the fact that Americans generally don't beat around the bush as much as people living in some other countries *ahem* Japan *ahem*. I do miss my friends, family, and the openness of being able to walk up to some random people on the street and strike up a conversation, but the better my Japanese becomes the more opportunities I have to do just that and am able to make more friends here, so even that is perhaps only a matter of being accustomed. But I also miss smalltalk. Like little quips about whateverthehell when you're at work. But that might be something I love about English and not particularly America.

Anyway, thats about all I've got to say about that.

Now for the topic of the week, which can be taken as literally or as figuratively as you want. The topic is shadows. I'm going to post a longer blog about it later this week but I'm interested to see what everyone has to say about shadows, be it their own or the ones cast over them, the shadows of lingering memories, of love, the literal shade of an oak on a scorching summer day. Just write about shadows. And let it roll out of you like the nothing.

Peace.

Ditto

Yes, I am totally being a bum on this post. One of the great things about America? Our ability to procrastinate and do things half-assed. Some may not see that as an asset, but today, for me, it is.

My lovely cobloggers have already done a great job of describing the very things I value about America. So rather than give you another post that reiterates all of the things I love - the scenery, free speech, etc., let me not bore you with my post and just say "ditto".

Also? On the free speech note - vagnia, vagina, Paris Hilton, Britney Spears, condom, porn, plushies, pony play, fetish. That should get us some more hits.

why america is great...

anyone seen "thank you for smoking"? the kid in the movie has to write an essay about why america has the greatest government in the world. i don't remember what the essay ended up saying. i just remember the lesson that the dad (aaron eckhart) taught his kid - there is no wrong answer to that question.
i don't think they were talking about the current administration - or any specific administration. they meant the process of government. the united states' constitution provides a means for our government to evolve based on the needs (or voted wants) of the people. i think that's pretty incredible.
i also love america's landscape. can anyone believe that the white stuff cap'n jack wades through in the latest pirates installment is actually in a real place? the salt flats in utah - arguably one of the most incredible sights i have ever seen. right up there with the mountain goats romping over crags/glaciers up in the rockies, deception pass in washington state, the moss-covered hangy trees in south carolina, flowers blooming amidst the sand dunes in death valley, and full autumn colors in the appalachians. all of the above take my breath away. i don't have awesome photos like janes, but i'm glad to claim the locations as 1/300,000,000th mine.
i'm also a big fan of the rights we are guaranteed - freedom of speech, the press, of peaceful assembly, of fair trade and labor, and the right to sue the asses off anyone who violates any of our other rights. not that i've sued anyone, but i love the fact that power in the hands of the people helps keep our government from being totally corrupt. not that there aren't crooked politicians, but they're not even close to as bad as, say, mexico's corrupt system.
i also like the newness of our country. other places i've been have been pretty steeped in tradition, but here we are free to, in essence, shop around for which traditions and customs we'll carry on. that's cool.
i know this is going to sound weird, but i also like that we have all kinds of safety regulations. i like knowing that any food or drug i buy has been prepared in such a manner as to seriously reduce my risk of illness. i like knowing that i'm not going to get dyssentary from my water or anything like that (yes, i know that crazy things still happen sometimes, but the probability is so low here compared to other countries). the regulations make me feel safer.
finally, i love that we are so into humor here. there is so much in america that is, or can be, really funny. we make funny tv shows, movies, music, conversations, slogans on clothes, sayings, shoot, we have jib-jab and strongbad, beavis and butthead, team america, weird al, larry the cable guy, jerry seinfeld, bill cosby, bad cat, laughter is the best medicine (in readers' digest), dr. seuss, and so much more! i've never been to another country whose citizens spent so much time laughing out loud. how awesome is that?!?

This one's worth ten-thousand words!

Last year, when I was living in Russia, most of my students were adults (as opposed to this year, where all of my students are children). I was frequently asked questions about the US, and in every class, George Bush came up at least once. This is a pretty liberal blog, and you should all realize by now that I too am pretty liberal - I disagree with nearly everything that comes out of the mouth of our current President and I strongly dislike the man. That's not really the point of this post. The point is, when my Russian students would hear my strong, unapologetic expressions of disapproval for the Bush administration, they would grow quiet and exchange furtive glances. Then, inevitably, one would ask me something along the lines of, "Aren't you afraid to say that?" This happened in EVERY adult class that I taught. My students were all concerned that if I voiced my disapproval for Bush - even though I was far from home - something might happen to me. Granted, while some of these adult students were my age, many were far older, and had lived the bulk of their lives under the Soviet regime... but I rather suspect that this built in fear of speaking out against the government has a lot to do with the fact that Putin's popularity remains sky-high. (That and he has a black belt in judo AND looks like Dobby the house elf. Also... damn.) I *love* the fact that I feel perfectly at ease speaking out against the current US administration... and I think that very well may be my favorite thing about the US.

Second favorite? Just take a look at some of the places we own - and these are just from the few I've visited in my short life. It's such a HUGE country... and there's so much more out there for me to photograph - I love it!

Intracoastal Waterway, off the GA coast


Sapelo Island, GA



Satilla River, Ware County, GA



THE Grand Canyon. 'Nuff said.
(Sadly, due to pollution, it's hazy like this most days of the year.)


San Diego, CA



Balboa Park, San Diego, CA



Mt. Rainier, WA



My house!! :-)



Also, we're the land of Jack Daniel's!



Even our scary pollution can sometimes appear picturesque.
Rayonier Paper Mill, Jesup, GA

Misplaced Priorities...

...or "For The Benefit of the Girl Who Is Still Upset That She Was Conceived in a Public Toilet"

This is very off topic, but relevant, since a troll has unfortnuately followed me over to this blog from my personal blog (sorry, guys) and posted the most disgusting personal attack I think I've ever had leveled at me.

It all started with an article from my local paper, which I posted on my blog and posted literally two sentences about before I posted a whole extremely long post about something else.

Some fun highlights of this story:

Now the mayor has shifted his attention to a robotic toilet, saying the invention could have a special edge over a traditional restroom in preventing the "homosexual activity" that he said plagues other public restrooms.

The robo-john the city might buy for $250,000 or more allows occupants to stay inside for only a short time before the door opens. Probably not enough time for "illegal sex," Naugle figures.

That's calling out ONLY homosexuals for having sex in public restrooms. How about heterosexuals? So that's gaybashing right there. And I, since I live here (and our idiot troll does not) will be paying for that with my tax money. Here's another nice little tidbit:

"We're trying to provide a family environment where people can take their children who need to use the bathroom," he said, "without having to worry about a couple of men in there engaged in a sex act."

Though police say sex in restrooms is no longer a hot crime, the mayor thinks it is. He talked about the illicit sex recently in public meetings, in an interview and in e-mails to residents.

Naugle, not a stranger to public controversy, particularly on the issue of gays, said public restrooms are pickup places for "homosexuals. ... They're engaging in sex, anonymous sex, illegal sex."

Again, the gaybashing. I know for a fact heterosexuals have sex in public restrooms. People in general, when desperate, will have sex anywhere they can (Glenn could tell us a funny story about his old house in Tallahassee). Police say that sex in restrooms is no longer a hot crime. That's a key statement.

Some good information on our wonderful mayor:

When the Christian outreach event Beachfest came to town in 2003, he said anyone who had a problem with the city's official embrace of the religious festival "can move to Iraq."

He angered middle class residents last year when he said housing prices would be affordable if people worked more hours instead of sitting on the couch drinking beer. Earlier this year, he refused to sign a mayor's pact to reduce greenhouse gases. Naugle said global warming is not caused by humans and that the pact contained "hate-America stuff that the environmental wackos want in."

Wonderful man, that is. Proud that my tax monies will go to that.

As one of the more, uh, sane commissioners said:

The beach needs more toilets, he said, and the decision shouldn't be made on whether people will use them for sex. And they still might, he said, even in the short time-frame.

"I'm not an expert on public toilet sex," said Trantalis, "but there are those who would say one minute would be enough. Or 30 seconds."

And lastly, this is just for you dear Linda, who thinks that public restroom sex is such a problem:

Police officials said male sex in restrooms is actually not a problem, anymore.

"There's no evidence, no reports or arrests made for any men having sex in any restrooms," said Sgt. Frank Sousa. NO reports and NO arrests made.

So it's not a problem. Just a problem for you, apparently. Which I'm pretty sure I diagnosed- people who have such insane and intense problems with such asinine things are usually that way because of something in their life- such as the preacher who obsessed about gay sex who we find out has gay sex. I don't even want to know Linda's preoccupation with public restrooms and sex.

And now, let's look at some numbers here-

In Broward County, about 8.7% of families and 11.5% of the population were below the poverty line, including 15.3% of those under age 18 and 10.0% of those age 65 or over. 15.3% of KIDS are impoverished.

Broward County as a 48.7% dropout rate. That means almost 50% of kids drop out of school here.

Broward County recorded 75,314 "index offenses" in 2006- index offenses being Murder, Sexual Offenses, Robbery, Aggravated Assault, Burglary, Larceny, and Motor Vehicle Theft. The violent crime rate was 614, the non-violent 3,612. Broward had 87 murders, 3,685 robberies, 6,152 aggrivated assaults, 13,218 burgularies, 44,240 larceny arrests, 7,092 grand theft auto arrests. We also had 840 forcible sex offense arrests. The ratio is 75,314 crimes committed in a county the population of 1,753,166- or 4,295 crimes per 100,000 residents. Crimes meaning actual crimes- not consentual sex of any kind, whether it is in a restroom, parked car, the bushes, an office, etc. Seventeen of the thirty-one cities within Broward saw crime increase, and homicides have gone up (even though crime for the State of Florida has dropped).

The North Broward Hospital District Health Care for the Homeless program estimates there are 8,000-10,000 homeless people in Broward, much of them children, with veterans, people who fought for this country, being a large chunk of them, if not a majority, and most of the rest of them homeless because of medical bills.

It's estimated that Broward County has 30,000 living without health insurance.

Because I work for a governmental entity within the County, I called BSO to find out if I could get numbers for arrests for public sexual acts. I was told that they could probably squeeze out some numbers, but they are so low they are lumped in with other "lewd and lacivious" acts, like streaking, flashing, etc. And all of those acts together are an extremely small number and in most cases carry little penalty and don't reflect Broward's crime index. Because it's not much of a crime or a problem. There's your fucking numerical analysis.

If you think that tax money should be spent on robotic bathrooms that open the door after one minute (and any man or woman will tell you that legitamate bathroom acts often take more than one fucking minute) while we have other things that are ACTUAL FUCKING CRIMES and we have children living in poverty and we have possibly 10,000 homeless people here. And you worry about sex in public restrooms; something so ridiculous I was almost laughed off the phone.

People who think that idiotic social victimless non-crimes are more important and more deserving of tax dollars than REAL crime (rapes, murders, robberies, assaults, etc.) and poverty and homelessness and health care for children and seniors, are disgusting people who don't deserve to be called American. That lack of perspective and compassion is the most disgusting thing I can imagine, and I can only hope that a sane majority will always keep people like that (read: Linda) in a fringe minority. I might not want to be in the stall next to two people getting it on. But I'd much rather see someone get the health care they need, or see children graduate from high school and not live in poverty, or see police policing actual crimes. Any sane person would.

Reminding us to have hope

I'm pretty glad this topic made me stop and think about things I love about America. Because, I gotta say, after watching Tony Danza's hosting of this year's Capitol Fourth, I was beginning to question why I still live here. (Sorry, I tried to find a YouTube link for that, but there doesn't seem to be one. Trust me that it was pretty embarrassing for everyone).

I'm kidding, of course, about questioning why I live here. I feel like I have to say that this week because people seem pretty sensitive about such a basic issue. Why do you like the place you live? When I was younger, I used to be a lot more "patriotic" than I am now. As I got older, I got more cynical and focused more on the negative aspects of American culture. But there's really so much good.

For example, an I know this sounds like a strange place to start, but look at the American media. As Laurie mentioned, the right to free speech in America is amazing. When our government lies to the people, the media steps in to make their actions known. In a lot of ways, the media can be more powerful than a dishonest executive and a weak legislative branch, which we've had quite a bit of lately. A few days ago I mentioned the Washington Post articles about Dick Cheney lately, the four part Angler. I thought this was a fascinating look at places few citizens can reach and a great insight into the nuts and bolts of this particular administration. The same, of course, can be said for the Woodward and Bernstein reporting of Watergate, to name a big one.

Obviously, not all media outlets exist to promote truth, fairness, and transparency in government. But that's when we leave it to the American people to make up their own minds. I certainly don't think voters always make the correct choices, or at least they don't tend to vote as a group the same way I vote as an individual. And I don't think recent events support the idea that the voters as a group made the correct decision in 2004. However, this is still a democracy. We won't always a agree on everything, but we have the power to correct it. This awesome power can create a pendulum effect-- one group gets power, another is dissatisfied and works harder to mobilize, the group in power gets lazy and careless and is soon replaced.

So the democracy, the civil rights, and the freedom that citizens have to make their own choices makes America a place of hope. I have the hope, for example, that the current administration and ruling party will be replaced with another that will take the country's interests above those of corporations and individual interest groups. Not every mistake in the past can be fixed, but if we all participate in the electoral process--learn about the issues, form our own opinions, vote, and pay attention to the outcomes--then we can at least positively influence the future.

Freedom and the Best American Movie EVER

In the words of Bart Simpson, "Hey, America, you're so fine, you're so fine you blow my mind, America." Now as most of you may or may not know I'm usually an extremely a pretty contentious person. I spend a lot more time complaining about the ole U.S. of A. than I do singing her praises so I've decided to throw my hat into this week's discussion and take up the challenge of naming a few things I love about my country (patriotic music swells up here).

First and foremost (and I'm amazed Glenn didn't talk about this), I'd like to give a shout out to the Bill of Rights. That whole free speech thing--fucking brilliant. Considering how frequently it's attacked these days, particularly by morons who mysteriously think the ACLU is bad, I sometimes forget that we came up the whole idea of guaranteeing by law that people be allowed to voice their opinions, no matter how unpopular.

For example, when I googled "why America is great," I turned up this website. I disagree with at least half the items this schmoe's list (Wal-Mart? college football? Monopoly? I think not.), but I'm still all for his right to appreciate things that suck. And THAT's what's really great.

Changing direction a bit, let's acknowledge that it was Americans who invented the internets, allowing us to all be here today having this virtual discussion about why we're so damn great. I know that for many of us it's an addiction, but still, hats off to the internet.

Now, I don't want to name too many things here since there are a hell of a lot of people who will be posting after me, but I'd like to quickly celebrate one last thing, a person actually, or rather persons. That's right, I'm talking about the Coen Brothers. Honestly, I don't think I could survive without a minimum bi-monthly viewing of The Big Lebowski, and I think it's fair to say The Big L is a celebration of America in its own hilarious way. And because it makes me smile, I'll leave you with a clip from the movie. I chose this one because I saw John Tuturro in Union Square last week and that was awesome. He's MUCH taller than he looks in the movies.



PS - Sorry for going totally link crazy. I have way too much time on my hands.

Looks like I fell off the perverbial boat (parenthesis)

Hey there lads and lasses, guys and dolls, dodecahedrons and polychronopoli,

Just thought I'd take a moment (late is better than never, right?) To write something up on last weeks topic, which for some reason I had been convinced I was supposed to write every week on Sunday rather than simply after Jen, who writes before I do (should I always wait till she has finished? (don't worry Jen, not blaming this on you... just had a helluva crazy weekend (now I just wonder how many parenthesis it's gonna take to give enough excuses that everyone would actually forgive me (its like one of those Russian dolls now (guess whats in the middle (can hardly wait can ya? (po(;p)op))))))). I'm pretty sure I've gotten the hang of it now though. Anyway, as far as this whole job thing, Jane certainly left a difficult post to follow (as did everyone(but hers is about teaching english in a foerign country)), but I'll go ahead and give my best effort at a somewhat logical continuum of uninterrupted thought.

As far as I'm concerned, its not entirely about what you DO when discussing the world of work, and although "how much?" is not irrelevant, it ranks just above the question "how often?" and right below the question "how satisfying?" in my book of employment makers and breakers. For example, I'd be perfectly happy to be payed in three healthy (but not square... hep maybe) meals a day and an occasional bath if the work was snowboarding all day every day or holding down the beach with a library of good books at my fingertips. But then again, another key obstacle on the way of finding peace with one's "career" is the element of repetition. I mean, I don't care how much cash I'd get to work at a toll booth (A LOT) or to mindlessly put labels on bananas, or stamp stuff on things all day, I don't want it. Unless I'm stamping my seal of approval on beautiful Swedish girl's asses (I can't believe I gave up that high paying dream job to work at the GAP! Stupid stupid stupid!)

But thats about enough of the hypothetical "which work works for my great work on reworked workmanship" work. Its high time to lay down a bit of what I know, rather than what knows me (not to mention what I know now verses the knots I knew not in the then now of not knowing... then).

Yeah. I said I'd TRY to be logical.

So after having worked a number of interesting gigs through my formative highschool and college years, which ranged from GAP soldier (yes, that part was true... fortunately I got out before they made all their employees wear sniper walky-talkies and have buttsex) to server at a plethora of restaurants from the most simply minded family restaurant to a real classy joint where people danced Salsa till 3 in the morning and the champagne flowed like really really thin funnelcake batter that was carbonated and golden in color and not in the least bit opaque; cake batter in fact, exactly like champagne.

Then of course, was the summer of a thousand jobs, most of which I got somehow or other due to my wonderful friendship with Seargent Arch, the peace loving but willing to bust some skulls Semper Fi painter poet who can do just about anything if you've got a wrench, a cigarette, and a beer. Yeah, that was the summer of catering gigs, building ramps for handicapped access, and installing and fixing home elevators all across the coast of Florida, pretty much most of the time with a beer in one hand, and a smoke in the other (none of which I was actually qualified for... except maybe the catering and the drinking).

After that there was a brief stint at a hippy restaurant where I could pretty much drag my ass out of bed at noon, pick the lice outta my beard (I didn't really have lice), roll into my bandana and birks and be at the restaurant serving up a delicious mix of whateverthehell stuffed with stuff, while clouds of sweet smelling smoke (it ain't cilantro) wafted into the dining room from the meat locker... and everyone wondered why the bread pudding was so damn good. And then, somehow, after this akward medley of hodgepodge jobs, I ended up in Japan, as a (somewhat) respectable teacher. And I LOVE it!

Which brings me to the real meat of the topic (although this is getting a little bit ahead of myself, I'd like to mention that I am writing this while I am sitting at the school computer at work. So basically I'm like, making more cash than a large number of writers and still getting payed to write. Sure the lack of recognition hurts from time to time, but bottom line is that I'm making decent money to do what I love. More on this later.) which is (the real meat of the topic) my first job in Japan working at the shittiest language school company in the entire universe (maybe this is actually the appetizer of the topic, the mere toss salad of the topic, as my current job is intended to be the MEAT of the topic.) I'm not making sense again aren't I? Or am I... The eye: the beholder:: the candle: the stick. Sorry, I've been studying for the GRE.

But seriously, this first English teaching job was shit. If you want an idea of what my mindframe was like druing this time, just check out my other blog "skyhookery," where I'll post one of the stories I began while I was a NOVAtron. If I had to choose between the two least savory things in Japan, which are Natto, a kind of fermented bean paste that is made by burying soybeans for a number of months and then digging it up, a concoction that smells like unwashed bumfeet, has the consitency of really runny but kind of sticky snot (whale sperm), and tastes like regurgitated (from the mouth of a crack addict) babyfood, and working at this company where you are encouraged to rat on your friends, where you have to pay more to live in their shitty apartments than you would pay to live in the Ritz, and end up in a room with twenty Brazilian stowaways (nothing against Brazilians), and where you have to sit in a room and entertain four old salarymen who have either been eating natto or chewing on each other's socks all morning, I'd take the Natto experience any day over the thinly veiled bag of ass known as NOVA.

And now, the main course, the vit a la vit (I'm pretty sure I just made that up, but it sounded kind of Fratin (Fratin is used in the book "The Power of Babel" to label a kind of hybrid language which is the preverbial missing link between French and Latin, somewhat comprable to Old English (but even older), which was the language spoken while French was still crawling out of the preverbial swamp that was Latin)) the bee's knees (didn't make that one up, but its still pretty lame. I mean for an expression. Pretty lame for an expression.)

Okay, enough of this Psycho babel, its time now to talk about why I love my job. For me, its not as much even what I do as where I live that I love so much. The job in itself is wonderful, working everyday at Elementary School and Junior High School, essentially being payed to come up with and emcee English games day in and day out, then to go out on the playground and relive my childhood (while learning Japanese language and culture). Not to mention that I spend pretty much all day every day with a huge smile, just from the things these kids say, the honesty, the blatant open truths which are often the opposite of adult Japanese culture.

But I live in Kyoto, which probably ranks up there in the worlds top 5 coolest cities. Imagine Portland with 5000 years plus of history behind every shrub, with the spirits of ancient soldiers and poets lurking in every shadow, with surrounding mountains that home to Japanese Mountain spirits. Imagine a place where you can walk ten minutes in any direction and stumble upon a shrine or temple that has been there for a thousand years, a place where they literally still light the mountains on fire once a year to everyone can imagine the times when warring monk soldiers would attack each other in the dead of night, leaving streaks of burning forest for the villagers like the hotwinded breath of dragons. A place where, walking up the mountain from a particular temple, one comes across a waterfall still used to perform purification rites, where one can walk a bit further up and discover a cave filled with buddhist sculptures carved into the rock, a place where if one kneels down and quiets the mind, one is almost capable of communicating with the long passed monks who have been meditating in that very space for thousands of years, capable of drinking in through the skin the vibrations of a thousand and one (representing the eternal and the finite) sutras spoken throughout the ages. And then there are the boddhisatvas carved into the sides of buildings, the great Buddha of Nara, the Kites that swoop down and steal sandwiches of unsuspecting bbqers. There is the river, where on summer days children play and families BBQ, where couples walk at night and watch the reflection of stars try to push their way up from under the water and back into the night sky. There is the "floating world" of geisha and teahouses, the foreign bars, the izakayas. There is the night. God is there the night and the mornings that follow! The coolest bar in Kyoto, which in order to get there you have to already know where it is, the monkey park and the trains to know where.

So this is all part of the job for me, inseperable as conjoint fetus twins... the place and the thing that allows me to live here, the work to live and not the other way around. Perhaps I'll write more sometime about the details of my actual job, but for now I am so in love with this city that I have trouable seperating the menial tasks of living with the ancient and initial split of the mind and the earth (perhaps the very sound of the first heartbeat, the skies ripping). And so on that note I bid you all adieu. Much love, and sorry again it took so long to get this out. I'll try to be more punctual next time.

America, Fuck Yeah!

By request, this week's theme is "America: Why We Think It's So Great." Maybe it should have been last week's theme, and this week we could've talked about France or something, since Bastille Day is Saturday. But you know. Hindsight. And who better to ring in the week of posting about America's greatness than the only non-American on BSG?

As many of you know, I moved to Florida from Nova Scotia when I was 13. It was a big change in a lot of ways. First, the town I lived in in Canada, Berwick, was puny. It had a population about 2000 people. There was no fast food restaurant (though I guess now they have a Tim Horton's), no movie theater (the nearest was 30 miles away. Or maybe it was 30 km away. I don't really remember the metric system), and no high school.

So when I moved to Lake City, Florida, it was a pretty big difference, because they had every fast food restaurant, a big fucking Wal-Mart, and a movie theater right there in town that had SEVEN WHOLE SCREENS! Can you imagine? They could show SEVEN movies at once! Though when I got there in 1993 I think six of them were still showing Jurassic Park. But this was still exciting to me. As a kid in Berwick I had to drive 30 minutes to get to a two screen movie theater in Kentville, a huge town that had like 5000 people. Although in my small Canadian town we could go to the drug store and buy comics, which you couldn't do in Lake City. So I had to stop collecting Darkhawk.

But those are all issues that I would have encountered had I moved to a larger Canadian town. The fact of the matter is (and I'm sure every Canadian will disagree with me), Canada and America are pretty much identical in every way, except politically Canada is like if the American Green Party won every election here for the past 30 years. And there's a woman on the money. And I'm not talking about the lame-o dollar coins you never see that Sacajawea and Susan B. Anthony tag team on. Also people like Hockey and delude themselves into thinking Canada is racism-free and has never had slavery.

I guess what I'm trying to say by drawing similarities between Canada and America is that I have a right to talk about America and what's good about it, even if some people might say "Ha ha, but you're from Canada, isn't that aboot right, eh? Ha ha." Yeah, that's been real fucking funny every time I've heard it for the past 14 years.

Now I'm really off topic. This is why it's not a good idea to ever let me introduce something. One thing I really love about America, and especially the American south (where I've lived for 14 years) is that a lot of different cultures come together. Sometimes it's a big train wreck of multiculturalism, and people start saying things like "Deport all illegal immigrants right NOW for GOD'S AMERICA" or something, but usually it's pretty beautiful. The university I teach at (I don't teach grammar) has the most diverse undergraduate body in America. And while most of them still believe everything the president says, it's still nice to have an ethnically diverse background in my classes. It makes me feel comfortable for some reason. It's always a little weird when I go up north (well, southern Illinois, not really north) to visit my parents and it's mainly just white people, with a small black population segregated to one part of town. Those kinds of places make me feel uncomfortable. But the south is this great hodgepodge of white culture, black culture, and Hispanic culture, (mostly, but in Houston there are huge Vietnamese, middle eastern, and south Asian populations, too). It really feels like a part of planet earth when it's not just a bunch of white people everywhere.

Also, American movies are the best. American television is the best. American music is the best. There are obviously some directors or musicians here and there from other countries that are great, but the vast majority of great films, shows, and music come from America. So America wins for pop culture, too.

As well as literature. American poetry is the best poetry there is right now, also. It's especially the best english language poetry. British poetry has been completely awful since Auden, and even he moved to America and never looked back. So sorry, England. Also, most Canadian poetry (I don't want to link any since I'll be applying to at least one Canadian creative writing PhD program [oh, that's "programme"]) is pretty terrible too. (I should note that my poetry is not good in any way, and gets consistently rejected by Canadian journals. So I don't have room to talk I guess. But this is America! Land of bitter complaints and sour grapes! I'll do what I want!) And if you want to get technical, most American poetry is really bad. That means I can't fault England and Canada too much. I just haven't seen too much great stuff from them. And who am I kidding by thinking you guys didn't just skip this paragraph as soon as you saw the word "poetry," anyway?

There's a lot of other great stuff about America, but this post is already kind of long, and I don't want to take away things from other people. So I'll save my other stuff for the comments field. And while I did recently claim to want to move back to Canada in my myspace blog, it is basically the same thing as the USA except colder, so it could just be my frustration with certain elements of America that led me to say that.

PS - Also, I don't want to hear from anybody about how the country I'm talking about is not called "America," but is really called "The United States Of America." Yeah, I know America is the continent. What am I, 15? Nobody is going to read this post and think I'm talking about the entire new world as one entity.

Someone has a case of the Mondays!

Sorry, all, for my unintended hiatus here. I flew down to Florida for a friend's wedding over the weekend and threw a 4th of July BBQ party on Wednesday. In theory, I love hosting parties. In reality, I worry WAY too much about them and stress out over it. My stupid home internet hasn't been working for over a week now (ok, I steal from my neighbors, but it's not like I'm downloading movies or something, I just want to post a blog and check my freaking email!!). I'm at a coffee shop now.

I've been thinking a lot about how to respond to this topic. It should be easy-- the first question in any Washington circle of strangers or acquaintances is invariably "so what do you do?" Even before "HOW do you do?" which, to me, seems like a much more polite question than "what."

Once before on this blog I mentioned my company by name, and then it popped up on their Google Alerts, so I won't be doing that again. Right now, though, I'm in Washington working for a government contractor (I think we prefer "consulting company"). I work on Outreach and communications for a website that's open to emergency responders and homeland security officials to review past incidents and exercises and pull lessons from them for use in the future. Until recently, I was on a team of three people doing Outreach (four people, not so long ago), but now it's just me. This has given me the ability to re-work some of the actual aspects of what I do, for example, I get to write more and have passed on some of the more inane work to a different team of people. But, well, I'm not having such a good time of it lately. Sorry for you, Dear Readers, a public forum is not the place to discuss exactly why. Everybody has problems, right?

When I came to DC a few months after getting my writing degree from FSU, my intention was to hold a full-time job to pay the bills and put food in my belly, but to spend my spare time writing and publishing. It hasn't really worked out like that. Usually when I get home I'm sort of mentally burnt out and just want to veg for a while. However, once you start vegging in an evening, it's quite hard to stop. I usually spend the evenings doing crosswords and watching Law & Order or whatever came in from Netflix. Also, I've lived here for 2 1/2 years and have yet to find more writers, or at least more creative writers. I know some journalists and some other coms people, but I haven't been able just to sit in a coffee shop or on the Mall on a Saturday afternoon and write and share my work with people and talk and laugh... Man, I was SO spoiled in college. Even the few people here who have expressed interest in this are so busy all the time, as is typical with DC schedules, we never catch each other to actually do it.

So now, my job is my job, but I won't be doing it for the rest of my days. It's not career for me yet. Who knows what I'll be doing next...

This Post's Dewey Decimal Number? Probably 814.54 TYS

Well I think it's no secret that I currently work at a library. In fact, the same library Nick used to work at, though things aren't as bad as he painted them to be - that is due to the fact that we've changed directors since then, and the one we have now is a lot nicer and more laid-back than the one before.

However, when I have to explain what I do - well, I usually don't have to do much explaining, except if I talk about the reference desk. I think I've talked about it here before, but in case I haven't, that's the desk where anybody can come up with whatever strange question they have in their mind, and I have to find the answer or help them find the answer to it. But this post isn't just me explaining stuff like that.

Nick had written that because of his job, people automatically assumed he liked numbers. Working at a library, they assume several things about you:

1. You like to read - totally true. I don't think there's anyone working at the library that doesn't love to read. Our janitor is illiterate, but that's another story.

2. You're incredibly boring and stuffy and spend all day shushing people - couldn't be farther from the truth - for most of the people who work at my library at least. I mean, that probably applies to some of them, but that's an old stereotype. Besides, I work at a public library - if we actually tried to keep the place quiet and shushed everyone, it would be a never ending battle. We can't even get people to turn off their cell phones (or at least on vibrate), and there are signs up everywhere - even at eye level on the front door. *Since starting this post a couple of days ago, I've found this article talking about the same thing on nytimes.com*

3. You have to be smart to work at a library - common misconception. Yes, you have to take a test to get one of our positions, but trust me, somehow some people slip through. There are times I think some of the people I work with have no short-term memory, like in Memento, because there are times where it seems like certain people have completely forgotten how to do a job they've been doing for months (or perhaps years). The other part of this is that people think you know everything because you spend all day reading books. I wish I had the time to read books at work, and yes, you do pick up a lot of knowledge from having to find stuff for other people. However, we just look smart because we know where to find the info. (Not that I'm not smart - though one may beg to differ after looking at this picture).

I suppose the one thing I get to do that most other people who work at libraries don't - paint and draw. Whenever they need a background done for a children's program, I get out of doing my regular work to do paint or construct whatever they need. It rocks! Currently I've been working on stuff for out Harry Potter party we're having on the 21st to celebrate the release of the 7th book.! Yes, we will probably be told that we're going to burn in hell for aiding Satan in warping children's minds, but I don't care- it's going to be a blast. (Fun side note: one of my coworkers has actually taken the day off because she doesn't want to be here for our party).

So though I shelve books, help patrons, and answer inane questions, I am NOT a typical librarian. Actually, I'm not a librarian at all - you have to have a masters degree -, but they do a lot of the same things I do, they just get a couple more dollars an hour for it.

confessions of a traveling hermit

Wondering how I ended up teaching English in South Korea and owning a home in the Waycross, GA ghetto? Well, it’s definitely a bit of a long story. Some of you know have heard this tale already, but in the hopeful assumption that there are some of you out there reading this blog who *haven’t* heard it, here we go!

I’ve written before about my job working at the Department of Defense. If you missed that journey into my past, you can read about it here. But all you need to know about that job for the purposes of this story is the following:

I left that job because I disliked it intensely. Why? Well, the work was highly repetitive, and essentially simple. I often remarked that a group of blind monkeys could have done what I did, even though the work, in fact, was not all that simple. It was an incredibly high-stress job. I had tension headaches all the time, and spent a fortune on ThermaCare heat wraps for my tense neck and shoulders. I kept a bottle of Pepto-Bismol in the drink holder of my work car at all times. I would swill directly from said bottle several times per day. I held this job for twenty-seven months, during which time I developed my first wrinkles and my first ulcer. Of course, this job did have its pros: it paid well, and was on a set promotion-schedule (the longer you worked there, the more money you made), and I had health insurance and paid sick and vacation days. Those are some good pros, but...

One of my coworkers had worked at that job long enough to retire. He hated it; he was miserable. The month he retired, he was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

Several of my coworkers were eligible to retire, yet they kept working. It certainly wasn't because they loved the job; they hated it and bitched about it constantly. Why didn't they retire? Because the longer they worked, the greater their retirement package would be. They wanted all the money they could get. Before I left, there were two heart attacks and one stroke (none of them fatal) among my eligible to retire coworkers... and yet they were all still working there when I left.

I left the Department of Defense because I didn't like my job. It was not personally satisfying in any way, and it was taking a high toll on me physically and mentally. I left the DOD to accept a position as an ESL teacher in Russia, where I received a salary of roughly $200/mo, and I never regretted my decision.

Why did I decide to move to Russia? Well, I double-majored in Russian and Political Science in college, during which time I spent nine (non-consecutive) months in Russia, and I loved every minute of my time there. I had accepted the position at the Department of Defense, thinking it was the sort of position that someone with a PolySci degree *should* accept, although while there, I constantly felt as though I were wasting my education, as I rarely put any facet of my degree to use. Additionally, I often felt as though my job was useless; if you read this post, you'll realize why. I thought that perhaps if I got a job with a non-profit organization, one that works to facilitate international relations between the US and Russia (and there are several), I would feel satisfaction from my work. I would also be both using my degree and accomplishing something.

But, there was a flaw in that plan. See, I graduated from college in 2001. Following graduation, I spent five months in South Korea, two months in Costa Rica, and twenty-seven months within walking distance of Mexico. At the point at which I began to consider changing fields, I hadn't spoken Russian in four years. My Russian skills had degenerated into something that I termed, "spanglorusskikonglish" - not really something to put on my resume. I decided that spending a year in Russia, teaching English and studying Russian, would allow me to rebuild my skills, and would look great on my resume. I had it all planned out: a year in Russia, and then I could apply for a job. I even had a specific employer in mind.

Then fate intervened. Some personal things happened to me while in Russia, which led me to reevaluate the course my life was taking. I'm not going to get into that here, as it's not really something I want to discuss in a public forum. I only bring that up to let you know that in the fall of 2005 I stepped back and looked at what I was doing with my life. I realized that I was in danger of making the same mistakes which landed me in the job at the DOD.

Like I mentioned above, the DOD job was the sort of job that a college grad with a high GPA and a PolySci major is expected to land. And yet there I was in Russia, trying to follow the expected path of a Russian major. While in theory, working for a non-profit that works in and/or with Russia sounds appealing, when I began to examine my job prospects, reality was quite a turn-off. Check out the following, an actual ad for a position at the sort of NGO that interested me. They were searching for someone with my qualifications to:

Assist in conducting research on price and quality comparison for necessary office supplies/equipment. Responsible for inventory of office supplies/equipment and ordering. Responsible for receiving and shipping mail for staff. Organize archives, media hits, vendor files and Staff Meeting Minutes. Update and maintain contact database for mailing. Assemble material for volunteer information and general inquires for mailings. Ensure cleanliness of office areas for visitors. Communicate with vendors for troubleshooting and service orders. Answer reception phone line during business hours. Handle referrals to appropriate staff members and questions from public. Assist Executive Director with administrative tasks. Prepare mailings for staff and distribute mail. Assist in researching items for program development. Assemble presentation materials for special events. Provide assistance in special projects. Update and maintain handouts for social services department, legal program and the reception areas. Responsible for paying monthly bills and vendors on a timely basis including mailing of payments. Ensure signature on checks. Track and reconcile credit card statements and time & attendance. Organize check requests, bank statements and deposits for Bookkeeper. Attend and record minutes for Staff Meetings. Ensure cleanliness of conference room. Provide refreshments for Board Meetings. Assist in preparing Board Packet mailings. Assist with staff and Board member accommodations. Assist with organizational events. Organize state and national organizations information, maintain equipment inventory in the Equipment Inventory Log. Coordinate / schedule technology visits. Maintain administrative office files. Other duties as identified and assigned.

Ahh, the job opportunities for someone with a BA in Russian. Not so appealing. Ensure cleanliness of office areas? Communicate with vendors? Research price and quality comparison for necessary office supplies/equipment? Would I really feel as though I were accomplishing *anything* with my life if those were my duties? True, not all job descriptions sounded quite that bad, but none of them made me feel as though I had found the niche that I was looking to fill. Not to mention that nearly all such positions are located in some of the most expensive cities in the United States, yet pay very little. (Now, I am not all that interested in making tons of money - as I explain further along in this post - but I don't want to run into debt either. I lived like a pauper in San Diego so I could pay off all my debts, and I'd like to remain largely debt-free as long as possible. But we'll talk more about money in a minute.)

Of course the opportunities in the nonprofit sector are slightly broader for someone with a Masters or a Doctorate, and as such, I briefly and seriously considered grad school. But (and I mean no offense to those of my good friends currently in grad school) the more grad school stories I heard (and continue to hear) from my friends, the less excited I became by the prospect of an advanced degree. Honestly, so much of grad school sounds like utter bullshit to me. For example, I know someone (a dear friend, highly intelligent, and whom I greatly respect) who earned his PhD by writing a dissertation on third person impersonal pronouns no longer used in the modern Russian language. What is the point?

Please bear in mind that I am in no way opposed to the pursuit of knowledge, and I truly hope that there never comes a day when I cease to learn new things. But so much of academia just seems so senseless to me, all this specialization to the point of incomprehension. Perhaps one day I will enter a Masters program for teaching ESL, but for now, I have decided that grad school is not the route for me.

So what is the route for me? I thought quite seriously about remaining in Russia for a second year. I loved my job there, my coworkers and my students... but financially, I simply couldn't. As I mentioned above, before moving to Russia, I paid off all of my debts (car, student loans, credit card), and I accrued enough savings to finance my year abroad at a salary of $200/mo without again going into debt, but I simply couldn't afford to do it for a second year. True, I had enough credit that I could have started charging expenses with the plan of paying off my debts when I returned to the US and got a "real job" - but that's one black hole I have no intention of falling down.

Instead, I thought about what it was about my life in Russia that was making me happy. I surprised myself with the answer: for me, the best thing about my situation in Russia was the lack of stress. True, occasionally I would fret about things like what to do about my students who were chronically failing their exams, or how to turn the lyrics of I am a Rock into a ninety minute discussion, but I never suffered a moment of the gut-wrenching stress that I put up with for twenty-seven months in San Diego. Back in 2000, following my seven-month stint in St. Petersburg, I'm sure my answer to what it was about Russia that made me happy would have been different. It would have involved the Russian people, or the Russian culture, or the amazing historical architecture, or even the Russian nightlife... not that I don't still love the Russian people, architecture and culture (I have found that I'm a bit too old for nightclubs), but I've changed. I enjoy spending time in Russia, but I no longer feel as tied to Russia as I once did. I guess that's an odd thing to say, coming from someone who has spent so much time there (and who is planning to return there at the end of August!), but it's true. The best thing about my life in Russia was the lack of stress.

Thus, I arrived at goal number one for my future: Remain in a low-stress situation. But other than low-stress, what else do I want out of life? I made a list of things that I enjoy doing:

• Reading (Self-explanatory, and if you've read any of my blog, you'll have noticed how it often becomes Jane's Book Review)

• Writing (Ever since I was a little kid, I've enjoyed writing, and I do it mostly for my own personal satisfaction. I've written one book. I’m working on another (although I’m going on a year plus of writer’s block). I love blogging; it’s addicting.)

• Taking photographs (again, self-explanatory – but feel free to check out my photos!)

• Traveling (Why am I writing explanations? Again, self-explanatory. I mean, I live in South Korea.)

• Web/Graphics design (There are many people who are far better at this than I am... I'm not really qualified to do this for a career or anything, but it is quite an absorbing hobby. I do all the work on janekeeler.com. It's nothing fancy, but it's definitely something I enjoy playing around with.)

• Playing with kitties. Not to try and compete with Linda or anything, but I am totally destined to become a crazy cat lady. (Speaking of, anyone want to adopt a kitten?)

• Spending time ALONE doing the above. (Yes, spending time alone is a very important component of my happiness. Perhaps the most important of all. Don't get me wrong; I enjoy the company of others. I love my friends and family, and I enjoy spending time with them. But not all the time. I enjoy spending substantial quality time alone doing the various things listed above.)

• Teaching ESL (I really enjoy teaching. I have fun in class. I enjoy getting to know my students, and - I know this is going to sound hokey - but it's incredibly rewarding to see my students learn and grow in their use of English. I don't want to teach English for the rest of my life, but I wouldn't mind doing it for the next few years.)

So there you have it: the list of things I like to do. After making my list, I decided to make said list my life goals. Simple as that. You've read the list, so now you know you know what I want to do with my life. But how?

Well first, you might notice that among my list of things that are important to me, I have no desire to accumulate a large amount of wealth, to own an expensive home or a fancy car. I rarely buy new things; I'm perfectly content with clothes and furniture from yardsales and thrift stores. I know how to live frugally. Granted, I can't live completely without funds, but the funds I need don't have to be big. In fact, they can be pretty meager.

The stereotypical "American Dream" that, as an American, one hears about from an early age, is that in America, if a person works hard enough, he can achieve anything. In America, anyone can become whatever he wants to become, so long as he puts his mind to it. In reality, this American dream is simply code for "if you work really hard, then you can make a lot of money." Well, that's great. But do I really want to work myself to death for money? We've already determined that I don't want a lot of money.

How can a person live cheaply? Well, for starters, live somewhere that's inexpensive. As I mentioned above, I lived in San Diego for 27 months. At the time, the average price for a home was $500,000. I was renting a tiny studio apartment for over $700/month, which was located directly under the flight line for the San Diego airport. That’s what kept my rent so cheap. (Sadly, that's true). Nearly all of the Southern Californians whom I met were resigned to the fact that they would *never* be able to pay off their homes. Houses in North Florida (where I grew up) are going for around $150,000 to $200,000 these days (although the housing bubble is bursting). This looks like quite an improvement over SoCal until you learn that my mom got her house in Waycross, GA for under $30,000. And goods (on average) are cheaper there too.

That was how I decided to relocate my base of operations to Waycross. In case you know nothing whatsoever about Waycross, don’t feel bad. It’s pretty tiny. Wikipedia has some stats on it here and you can see some of my photos of the place here. In March 2006, I purchased a house Waycross for $27,500. Granted it’s in the ghetto, but hey – I’ve never been all that into being neighborly. When people find out that I bought a house in Waycross, the general reaction seems to be, "But what will you *do* there?" and "Won't you be bored?" Look back at the list of things I like to do, people. Half of them I can do anywhere, and the other half, by definition, I can't do at home, no matter where "home" is.

I want to relax, to write, to grow some veggies and to sit around my house reading cheesy mysteries and fooling around on the internet.

But how will I pay for this house, you ask? As inexpensive it was, it still has to be paid for. Well, by teaching ESL of course. True, I have already mentioned that my ESL job in Russia, which I loved very much, paid very, very little, but in many places around the world, ESL teachers earn substantially more. I have been teaching English in South Korea since August 2006, and I am making enough to put a sizable dent in my mortgage – and to fund this boondoggle to Siberia and keep me in food and water for four or five months when I return to Waycross. Additionally, my mother agreed to be my lending agent for this venture, which has definitely smoothed the way somewhat (kind of tough to get a mortgage on an income of $200/mo!) My plan is simple: teach English for a year or so somewhere, then hermit for a while in Georgia. Then, when I start to run out of subsistence funds or become stir-crazy, I will teach ESL somewhere else in the world. There are so many countries I would love to visit. I’m actually leaning towards Kuwait as my next destination, although who knows! :-)

You don't go out looking for a job dressed like that? On a weekday?

I don't mind so much anymore when people ask what I do. I can be reasonably proud that I work in government and that I am a Budget Analyst. No, it's not the most exciting job. But it's a management position, and it makes me seem professional. I do get annoyed when people say to me, after I say what I do, "oh, you must like numbers." No, motherfucker, I don't actually like numbers. It's just my job. In fact, I hate numbers. I'm not good at math. Recently, someone asked me to come up with a percentage increment for the past ten fiscal years. Now, I know how to do percentages for certain things. But I didn't know how to take ten years of numbers and make a percentage increase for each year. I had to look it up online. And then I found the answers on a high-school math help site. I'm that bad. I also own Math for Dummies (it is hidden strategically in my office). I don't like numbers. I don't have to. Being a Budget Analyst doesn't necessarily have to do with numbers (it's more looking at accounts, budgeting for the next year, writing impact statements, working on legislative priorities that have a budgetary impact, etc.). So that question gets annoying. But I am much more proud than when I used to work in the library many years ago- I hated telling people that. They used to just go "oh." And I hated working there. I was such a piss-on. I wasn't even allowed to talk to my co-workers; it was like elementary school. That was bullshit.

It was much more fun, though, telling people when I worked at the mental health center as a behavior technician. There were lots of stories I had to tell from that job. Seeing the people being Baker Acted. Having to learn to take people down to the ground and pull their pants down so the nurse could give them a shot to knock them out. All the times I got bit and had to get tetanus shots (I don't know if I could could on my hands the amount of times I had to get tetanus shots). Having a kid try to stab me with a marker--one of those smelly ones that are obviously not sharp. I smelled like blueberry for several days and that was hard to wash off. Having to take down a 300 pound man with about seven staff members who was so high from crack that it took four shots before he even calmed down (those shots usually knocked someone out immediately). Those were great stories, and I still have some great party stories. But that was also not what I wanted to do with my life.

It doesn't bother me too much to have someone ask me what I do. What always bothers me is having someone ask me what church I go to. I get that none down here, but in Northern Florida that was always the first question (second one was usually Gators or Seminoles?). I hated that. I met someone recently that thought I listened to country music because I'm white (it's South Florida after all). But I am pretty proud of what I do; I like my job, and I'm very proud of the fact that I work in the field that I am going to school for. But being automatically asked "oh, you must love numbers" is annoying.

Glenn, I for one an very proud of you for your going into poetry. I remember when you were torn between doing that and going in to something that you might not want to go into but you'd go into because other people would want you to. I had a whole time period when I was going to go into a field that I would not have enjoyed just to go to college and make money- I know I'll never make shitloads of money going into government, but I'm happy with what I do.

Don't I Know It

It's tough to tell people who ask me what I'm doing that I go to graduate school for poetry writing. Mainly because people don't realize that you can go to school for poetry writing, I guess. Or because people don't believe that anybody in their right mind would even want to go to school for poetry writing (they're probably right). Usually the way the conversation goes is something like this:

Person: So Glenn, what do you do now?
Me: I go to the University of Houston for graduate school.
Person: Really? What do you study?
Me: Poetry writing.
Person: Oh. Poetry writing. *pukes everywhere*

This scenario is the general reaction of most people. Most people do not read contemporary poetry, and therefore think poetry writing is kind of lame. Middle school girls do that shit all the time and they don't have to go tens of thousands of dollars in debt to do it. They just have to get their pigtails pulled or something, I don't know. But I can't blame people for this attitude because nobody reads contemporary poetry. Even my good friends at this blog I bet don't read contemporary poetry. In fact, I would be astonished if one reader (and most of our readers seem extremely well educated) could name off the top of his or her head five living literary poets (ie not Jewel or Billy Corgan or Fantasia). Unless Melanie pops back in again, because she knows her stuff.

None of this is the fault of readers (or non-readers) of poetry, though. If your high school was like mine, then you probably only read three or four poems from the 20th century. Something like "The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner" by Randall Jarrell, "Grasshopper" by e. e. cummings, "Richard Cory" by Edward Arlington Robinson, and some awful shit about not drinking on prom night.

Anyway, those first three linked poems were the only 20th century poems I was ever exposed to in high school. And while I can understand the merits of them (now, not then), they basically all suck. So I hated poetry for many years, until as a senior in undergrad at FSU I couldn't get into a fiction workshop class and had to take poetry workshop class. Anyway, I got exposed to poetry that was actually written (mostly) during my lifetime, and I was really blown away. Though I don't really like most of these people now, poets like Ai, Billy Collins, David Kirby, and Sylvia Plath were really what drew me into poetry. I guess they all worked as introductions. (I don't really like Ai or Billy Collins anymore, but I can't ignore what their poetry did for me).

I sort of feel like anybody who claims to hate contemporary poetry just hasn't read the right contemporary poetry. Sort of like people who claim to hate country music or rap I guess. Maybe it's ridiculous, but I feel like I was in the same boat as a lot of haters. And maybe people just think poetry is dumb because of all the lame prom poems we had to read in high school. I would recommend to people just to check out Poetry Daily once a day. There's a different poem up there every day, it's free, and sometimes there's even a good poem. Then maybe one day you guys will actually like poetry and stop puking on my shoes whenever I say I go to grad school for poetry. Seriously, they're nice shoes.

Or maybe you'd even see a poet you really like and buy his or her book? Ha, who am I kidding?

PS - Coda:

I've made my main point, but here's a side note. If the person who is asking what I do is from Houston, here's how the conversation goes:

Person: So pardner, what do you do?
Me: I go to graduate school.
Person: Oh, at Rice University?
Me: No, the University of Houston.
Person: Oh. UH. *pukes everywhere then stabs out own face*

Oh well. People think UH is lame here, because it is a public school. Although it is the most racially and ethnically diverse campus in America, which is pretty great. But I guess rich snobs who send their kids to Rice (private school) probably hate all those ethnic types. Sometimes I try to explain that the writing program at UH is nationally recognized as the second best in the nation (after Suckowa, I mean, Iowa), but then I sound like a big pretentious douche.

PPS - That coda was my way of saying UH is nationally recognized as the second best in the nation without sounding like a big pretentious douche.

PPPS - If it helps, the last time they rated writing programs was 1997. So that doesn't really matter anymore I guess.

PPPPS - Also, I can think of nothing more fun than teaching poetry to college students, which is why I'm getting the degree, also.