So Excited had to Blog

As of 2:33 AM this morning -

DONE

with the semester!!!

e-mailed my final paper "Subversive Weeds: The English Pull and the Irish Continuance"

done done done

On Top of the End

Almost done. Last Tuesday night I never went to bed. It was weird. Wednesday then, I turned in a 74 page unit plan covering Macbeth. What a night. I remember calling for owls at 2:30 AM outside in my backyard. I remember eating toast with grape jelly at 3:15 am. I remember printing a final sheet at 6:37 am, just in time to jump in the shower and go to work. In the shower I remember trying to wipe off the tiles while the shower was still on.

Anyway Wednesday went to work, my poetry reading was that afternoon then I went home- I crashed and slept very hard.

So, just now, I finished a draft of my final paper for my Irish Lit. class - which, interestingly ended the Tuesday of my all nighter. An Irish class wrapping up over a couple of Newcastle Brown Ales and the eating of calzones in an Italian restaurant.

I may have some revisions to make, but aside from that all I have left for this semester is a final this Tuesday afternoon.

Rocking in the Early Morning

Before six this morning I flew out of bed. Ran across the hall, Molly, in a fright, was already headed out. I grabbed her, told Trista to grab Mr. T and we rushed downstairs. It was as if a giant hand was holding onto our upper level roof, just shaking it to piss me off after another late night working with Macbeth. That, or as I falsely accused, "it is probably just Steve (our neighbor) pushing his recycling container up." To which Trista replied, "it is loud, but why would that shake our house unless he was on the roof."

It had to be a storm. Tornado. High winds. Falling branches. Once we were downstairs; however, everything was peaceful. OK - must be a large animal on the roof. I bravely ventured outside and examined the roof - nothing.

Earthquake! Pretty crazy. Molly wanted to know where the giant crack was and if there was lava.

Very brief. Only about a 5.2. But enough to really shake things up. No damage around here, but wow - one of the last acts of nature I would have predicted as I went to bed that night.

Our Fish has died

The betta from Kansas City. Given to us at my brother's wedding reception. It was one of two that was still alive, it being the furthest away, geographically. But not anymore. It got dropsy. A terrible, fatal disease that causes the scales to stick straight out, it bloats, and turns a little gray. We tried to change the water, but that was it. Some tears from Molly. She named it Sam. As I buried it, its scales folded back down and it seemed the color returned to a deep purple. It was a living thing that lived with us for a couple of years.

As people, is love for a creature dependent on the love we receive, or can receive, or perceive to receive? A dog compared to a fish. A fish is nearly alien, living apart from us in water - our very touch may be lethal. A dog is soft and needs attention. A cat can curl up with us and purr. We can love mammals. Destroy and torture them, yes, but we can LOVE mammals. They possess enough traits for us to relate to. Soft enough. Warm enough. The blood is red enough.

Maybe we as a race would be incapable of love for non-mammals. Maybe it would be best if aliens never came. I think it is difficult enough for us to have peace with mammals whom we are at least capable of love. But creatures that possess none of the mammalian qualities - I doubt peace would ever be possible. An existence of other beings, alien beings - not mammals, could be dismissed, as easily as it is for us to flush a fish.

If we cannot love something that we cannot perceive as having the potential to love us back, then peace is an impossibility. Sam sat in his bowl, water flowing over his gills as indifference passes through our minds. Dangerous, irreversible, indifference.

Sam died from a horrible disease. He was beta.

Second Place

I won an ISU Mary Reid McBeth Literary Award in poetry. On April 23rd, I will receive the prize at a reception where I am also invited to do a "reading."I submitted a collection of eight poems - including the following, which I'll share here:

The Problem with Coastal Liquor Markets

quiet reports of giant bivalves
meander through romantic conversations,
business transactions

monster clams, dark and seemingly dead
objects of distorted vision and thought
resting myths on the ocean floor

able to swallow divers whole
growing the missing persons report
young couples never able to divorce

the rum merchants and whiskey runners
with tipsy clients know all the good cliffs
an arrangement of good sense

“All toast the giant clam,
our fanciful legend goes especially well
with a bottle of our Spiced Oyster Rum!”

the possibility of existence is terribly exciting
the customers want to believe, but only in jollity
the flutes are coming in, the bongos will soon begin

sales and marketing reports litter the beach
empty bottles with colorful labels twinkle in the sun
from the deep an eruption of bubbles disturbs the surface

Break Your Back Mountain of Books

All these. And one more - TKAM (I forgot to add to the pile and so it is pictured by itself). The end is near and I am glad. I maintain that this semester was less taxing than last fall, but it isn't over yet. One major paper complete - two projects to go, one more paper and a unit plan.

I cannot remember looking more forward to a summer. 70 or so degrees here today and beautiful. Nice little bike ride with Molly to kick off our new season.

Back to the books. I can really see the light now. With the completion of this semester, I will only have one more semester of "regular" classes (and one of those will be another independent study) and then student teaching.

Knowing that I only have one more semester, like I've been having, is just what I will need in order to keep it up. That and not having a summer class should be great!

Anyway, just a little recap while I enter the final stretch for this semester.