And the doctoral school frustration persists. The latest debacle involves my school’s and/or the Federal Government’s ludicrous, bureaucratic stipulation that all grad students must register for FOUR credits or be denied aid, even though one course is THREE credits. They want you to take one other measly credit just to receive funding. Sounds like an easy way to make an additional $600 or whatever dollars per grad student. Obviously most grad students take six or nine credits, but sometimes a grad student like myself may need a break and wish only to take one class before she loses her mind. So, I’m just not attending classes this semester. This could bode badly for me though, as the English Dept prefers students applying for TAships to be registered for classes. Oh, well. I’m standing by my convictions. Entering, brand new students who receive TAships obviously weren’t taking classes while they were first applying (this is my second application; I lost my spot so an entering Master’s student with Sociology background as opposed to Comp background could receive a TAship for sake of diversity), which I mentioned in my letter to the committee who will be reviewing my application. So, I’m taking a risk. In a way it seems petty of me, because I could just sign up for this one credit seminar and be done with it, but my gut is screaming no, fuck the bureaucracy, you shouldn’t even be having to pay for these courses at all. So I’m listening to my gut (which is also slightly gassy now, even though I ate a tasteless, low fat main course. Maybe too much garlic in the homemade oil and vinegar dressing).

After beginning to cry while on the phone with a financial aid advisor, and then calling a friend who has listened to me kevetch endlessly about this subject while full on sobbing, I decided I just needed to have some goddamn faith in myself. Okay, so I don’t earn a Ph.D. Yes, finding full time employment as a writing instructor at the university level will be more difficult. On the other hand, MATC seems like it hires every few years, and they pay fantastically, they have great benefits, there’s a teacher’s union, and they give you raises almost every year--I would be set upon retiring. However, who knows how long it would take me to become hired full time there? It could take such a long time. That’s what scares me. This living paycheck to paycheck bullshit has got to end sooner rather than later. I’m 32 and I want to pay off debt, not accrue more debt or live on student budget if I am not even a student anymore. There’s got to be a way though. Whereas if I earn the Ph.D, I would be assured full time employment in five years due to the reputation of my program, unless, course, the economy is totally fucked.

Sometimes I think I am just codependent on the university. But more often I think that I do want and deserve this stupid Ph.D, and that I could learn a lot more about teaching and rhetoric if I stay in this program. If I don’t get that TAship for the fall, I’m out. I have a professor pulling for me, so that will help greatly. I have a feeling it might work, but…if it doesn’t, I have to prepare myself.

I am in my second week of teaching at one school and my first at another; it is going okay thus far. I feel okay. I don’t lack confidence like I did last year. That course I took and the people I interacted with last semester helped me so much. Another reason I want to stay…the basic writing course is still a challenge, and I realized that I am still piling on too much work. They need so much time to process. I need the readings to be a bit shorter. There is so much to cram in. They do not like having to be there for so many hours in a row, but at least I am high energy, I keep them laughing. Just have to ensure they are also learning from me, well.

Tuesday morning I spent getting all worked up. Usually when I do so, I am overreacting, and I inwardly know that, so that when the situation is not as dreadful as expected I am relieved and call myself silly. Tuesday, thought, I was extra worked up because I knew there was no possibility that the afternoon’s activities would not be unbearable.

Attending or working at universities always entails a certain amount of dealing with the administrative bureaucracy which is not enjoyable. You don’t get paid on time, or as a student, your financial aid disappears, you have to make calls, stand in line, explain yourself repeatedly, and ask questions you should not have to ask. At one of the schools where I teach, the administrative matters are doubly intolerable. You have to wait, no one knows anything they are supposed to know because duties are scattered across different people and different departments and none of those people communicate properly, and you have to wait! Apparently at this school, everyone takes their lunch around 2pm, even though they leave work between 4-5pm. Everyone. So, I waited 20 minutes for one Admin Asst to return to tell me the copy code and give me a key because the other two had no idea. They talked about it for a few minutes but neither could figure it out. Then I had to ask for keys. She made me fill out a form and take it down to the key lady in the basement, who was thankfully pleasant, and told me to exchange it for a new key. The key lady, who has been working there for 25 years, asked why I was there. I said, they told me I had to turn in my old key for a new one. Are they crazy? Maybe, she replied, and told me I didn’t even need to bring down the form.

The Admin Asst also had no idea about how to use the writing lab. She is the Asst for all the Writing Instructors to visit but she doesn’t know. No one fucking knows anything. The previous week I’d received an email saying that part-timers can only access payroll forms on this web site that is separate from the school’s main site, but no specific web address is given, only a key word. So I write the person back and she tells me all I should do is type this key word in the web browser and the site would pop, which is obviously ludicrous because all sites end in a .com or .edu or .org or something like that. So I write her back again and she tells me to call IT. Then I realize that the site is probably only accessible from the school’s own computers. Yep. I was seething about this one. How fucking stupid! How can this person not know. It was really hard not to write her a snotty email, but I knew doing so would not really be productive, so I played it passive aggressively, which I prefer not to do, but seemed to be most appropriate in this case (I said that I was sorry that I had bothered her but it was just that her email didn’t say you can only access this site from the school’s computers, but I wasn‘t really sorry, I had every right, but she needed to know that she should‘ve included that information.) She actually wrote me back to tell me that she didn’t know that. Well, shit, people, find someone who knows what is up to communicate with part-timers who don’t even receive a handbook, only a few typed sheets about photocopying, phones, mailboxes and pay dates.

On top of that, I had to buy a parking permit, and that office was also closed. Of course the woman working there was one of those overly chatty types. And of course the woman in front of me had lost her plastic permit and took all damn day to explain it. And of course I find out that, in 2006, this office has no credit card machine, and if I want to use my card I have to go to the other building and pay first at the cashier’s office! Or go find cash, which I don’t have. I have 30 minutes to get to the north side for a meeting, but the office closes in 30 minutes also and if I don’t get the parking permit, I won’t have anywhere to park during my 5-hour, once a week, basic writing class tomorrow. So I run to the other building, and of course a student stops me, the running person, who is obviously in a hurry, to ask me where a damn classroom is. Read the wall signs! I say. I finally find the cashier’s office and there is a DMV-style line snaking out of its doors. All loudly chatting undergrads!!!! I have to get this permit. So I suck it up and pay the fee to use the ATM, draining my account of funds I really do not have at the moment. I race back to the other office, and the crazy who lost her permit, which just hangs from the rearview mirror, is STILL in there talking about her fucking missing permit. Thankfully, the newly hired full timer in the English department who appears annoyingly put together stands behind me in line, so I begin chatting her ear off. She was friendly, also helpful, as so many faculty at this school, at least those I’ve encountered in the copy room, just ooze a dontfuckingtalktome vibe. The environment breeds it though. Like the woman who stood in front of me while I was sitting in the first office waiting for the Asst to come back so I could get my copy code so I could copy my syllabus and all the necessary accompanying handouts. Like she was going to get service first after coming in after me. But I played friendly with her too; a good move sometimes, and when I hopped up when the Asst arrived back from lunch, she rightly let me get my necessities first. She is lucky I did not cuss her ass out like I did the fat, greasy, 70s glasses wearing, needlessly condescendingly security guy at yet another office I had to visit.

I finally get my parking permit, and the woman keeps talking so much that she can not make change. $40-$25=$15! I am no math whiz, and in fact, have become flustered while giving back change at Shriner Bingo, but it took this woman about 3 minutes to figure it out, and she didn’t see the ten dollar bill and had only a few ones, and I had to tell her about the $10, and then finally, sweating and starting to smell, I can leave and race out to my car, to try and make a 25 minute drive in 20 minutes, only to be stuck behind 8 school buses full of asshole high school students waving their torsos out of bus windows and standing out in the street. I made it to my meeting 10 minutes late, but thankfully the woman in charge, who has clout, did not seem perplexed, because at least I’d made in time to listen to her love to listen to herself talk.

The next day, I taught my very long class, and learned that the textbook had been updated, so I showed up a different addition than the students. Yes, apparently it is too much trouble to tell an instructor who has told you that she has not taught at the school for a semester to stop by for a new copy of the book.

Thankfully, the students deal with the same inept bureaucrats and Admin Assts that I do, and we had enough other things to cover, so they understood.

Whew.

I am so fucking frantic, even though I got outside a bit today with Sassyj and her son it was windy and felt so good to me but chilly to them, dressed not warmly enough. I don’t know enough about children sometimes. Errands driving store driving south side back home eating turkey thanksgiving turkey deli slices sleepy syllabus writing hurry two days left writing and rewriting adding more detail more specific expectations printing the readings for the first currents events reading and discussion; MLK Jr Letter from Birmingham Jail and a JS piece about that fucking mob beating. Dude was buying crack. Still doesn’t make it right. So too much turkey now it’s lemon ginger tea and soon foundation for drinks which I shouldn’t do but I cant fucking calm down in the house it’s been impossible all week. Dunno if it’s the NYC energy still in me, the quick walking rush everywhere pace. Dunno could be. Bought my new grade book feeling so teacher dorky why can’t I fully and comfortably don this role? Must try must try because I can DO this shit I can do it it will be meaningful. I feel so good about discussing MLK on the first day of the weekly 5 hr long class, since it’s MLK Jr Day tomorrow and all. Certainly cliché but a necessary one; students should be exposed!

Man I haven’t even had time to write about my NYC trip which sucks. The feeling might be gone by time I have time. At least I have some notes to start me off. Got back and immediately began Milwaukee style socializing. Tues to redroom to terrorize Stoic with Yells Alot. Fought with Stoic about Thin Lizzy. Man they inspire passionate hate, as well as devoted admiration. Weds to Polish Falcon with The Promoter, such a good good Milwaukee evening. The Falcon is so tackily charming, its old school/old timer patrons equally. Sitting too close to us was Whispering Jeff, a man who talks so fucking loudly you want to put in earplugs but not leave because the shit that comes out of his mouth can be highly amusing. Talking all about the guys his age who are dried up prunes now because you know there’s no content they don’t do shit they’re repeaters, the same story repeats all the time. Talking about fish fry at Klingers the owner’s try to bust his friend’s gut by forcing so much fried cod down his gullet. I kept picturing my friend’s equally loud and insane father blowharding alongside this guy but turns out Purveyor of Drunken Sluts can’t stand this whispering Jeff. Competition? My Promoter friend is so awesome but so so out of reach. I know that most times and sometimes I just get wistful and then other times allow myself hopefulness and that’s just silly. Gotta move on. Friends is ok though.

Thurs was chicken wing bday night for Sassyj at Steny’s, a horrible yet spacious bar featuring many pool tables and various other video and pinball games (golf but no buck hunter the fools!) that allows patrons to drink free when it’s their birthday, and not swill either, anything they choose! Sassyj downed a steady supply of Heineken all evening while wearing her ‘warning: I drink for free‘ fluorescent orange crossing guard vest mandated by Steny’s management. I ate chicken their sandwich it was not good. The wings were tolerable that’s the only thing I’ll ever eat there but even eating four or five fucks up my gut. So addictive though those little chicken wings.

Friday was working all day then really just sleeping through the night starting at 7:30. I was just worn down. Need to feel more used to being busy, shouldn’t fuck me up so much. Saturday syllabi writing hell all afternoon break to head to store to find TC and DiNO to find out the plans….I was set up on a date like get to know each other thing. Very thoughtful of DiNO. Drinks at Lulu, such a lovely space, so adult and just all around good, then fucking huge pancakes and good true hash browns at the Bayview diner and our waitress slapped this college looking boy upside the head as we were paying up. Knew him well I suppose. Date was ok. We talked more to TC and DiNO than each other, he was nervous (and skinny! God!) I guess I was quiet calm, noisy and verbose as usual but calm about the event taking place. don’t know, was nice, we’ll see. Need some gotta get some more immediately though, gotta hatcha plan. This franticness needs to dissolve!

In the latest issue of US News and World Report, Michael Barone, comparing the "Wal-mart Model" to that of GM's business model, states that a main difference between the two is that most of Wal-mart's employees do not receive health care benefits whereas with GM in the 1970s, all full-time workers received such benefits. Ok, duh. He then comments, "That made sense when almost all workers were men supporting families. But it is a poor fit with a labor market in which many workers are women, teenagers, or retirees seeking extra income."

There are two problems here. One is whether or not he means that all three groups who work for Wal Mart are solely "seeking extra income." But the bigger problem that is, in any case, his comments overlook the fact that most women work just as hard as men to support their families. Also, has he not heard of single mothers? Or even of men who are single without children? Maybe he just is one of those people who likes to simplify and generalize. In any case, I remember when you could receive health benefits upon working 25 hours or more per week. Sure some places probably have this set up, but such businesses who do are surely dwindling more and more. To infer on any level that most people working at places like Wal-mart are doing so just for exta income or that they don't need or deserve any benefits due to their gender or age is discrimantory and frustrating.

I do realize that this magazine sides towards corportate and governmental interests, but its columnists are not usually so sexist and ageist. My guess is that this guy has a nice comfy house, relatively new model car, and his own health benefits. Fuck him!

I just watched two movies that I found interesting. First was Anything Else, which is significant because it is the only Woody Allen film I’ve viewed in its entirety. It’s the one with Jason Biggs from American Pie. He is a Jewish comic writer and he is dating this aspiring actress, played by Christina Ricci. I guess Allen is known for creating these highly neurotic characters. It does get a bit grating sometimes, but to me it’s mostly amusing, probably because I am quite neurotic. (I’m sure that statement is quite shocking!) The NYC setting enticed me. So many great panoramic views of the island from many different vantage points. Allen played another comic writer who doubles as Biggs’ sort of older life-mentor guy. He’s crazy and bashes in some brute’s car window because the brute stole his parking spot. Ricci can’t have sex with Biggs anymore because she is having some psychosocial drama all of the time, but he is obsessed with her. Jimmy Fallon has a bit part as her ex boyfriend. Danny Devito plays Biggs’ agent. It ends with Biggs leaving NYC to pursue his career in LA. Ricci says to him, upon hearing the news, that people who are big losers in NYC often become millionaires out in LA. Something else happens at the end too, predictably perhaps, but I do not want to spoil the entire ending. Another good line, I thought, was when Biggs tells his shrink that he has so many problems that committing suicide would not solve them all. Stockard Channing is pretty amusing as Ricci’s mom too, snorting coke off of Biggs’ laptop. Biggs really pulled off his role, considering how he is known for much fluffier films. I enjoyed it.

Then I watched House of Sand and Fog, with Jennifer Connelly and Ben Kingsley. All of the actors were good. That movie fucked me up. It’s a tragedy in the modern sense, I guess. Commentary of what happens when people get too wound up about material possessions, but goes deeper than that. Whites mistrust Middle Easterners, Middle Easterners stereotype and scorn Whites. Very very intense, complex stuff. So much about race relations, longing, despair, the human need not to be alone, the need to provide for one’s family, the need to change one’s dull life. So much stuff. It’s subtle too. The ending is very dramatic, and perhaps a tad unnecessary. I do not wish to spoil it though. This is one of those films I could really write about. It really moved me. I cried for fuck’s sake!

I am going to watch State and Main with SJP and William H Macy next. I think that’s the one where Macy goes full frontal, but maybe not. Seemed like an interesting cast. I remember hearing a lot about it. I never get to be sloth like and just lounge and watch movies like this, and it’s a bullshit dreary day, so I’m going to milk it.

New Year’s Eve was ok. I did not experience or invite drama, so really, it was a success. Dinner with four friends, three of whom I am quite comfortable with, and a lot of vulgarity and titty flashing and picture posing. Passing the time in a fun and affordable way. Nothing wrong with that. I did not feel anything when the clock struck midnight though. I just worried that I would not be able to finagle my car out of the Chicago style parking spot I lodged it into. Fucking Brady St area. Dick Clark was a joke. We watched him for about five minutes. Due to his stroke, his voice is all fucked up. Not to be harsh, but it’s really time he retired. Around 1am I stopped by Foundation to see TC and DiNO and to see who else was there. The Plumber oddly was sitting with them, and two other people I knew were sitting in the same bar stools they were sitting in about 6 hours earlier. No interesting men in sight, but DiNO informed me that she has some freaky tattooed friend that she wants me to meet, which is very nice. I stayed there for an hour and went home. To my cat. Not all that bad, I guess.

On New Year’s Day, I hung out at this cool, spazzy and snazzy couple’s house in Riverwest all afternoon. They put out a great spread of food, such as quiche, smoked salmon and whitefish, bagels with all of the fixings, sweet potato stuffing, shrimp and grits, made to order waffles, fresh fruit and fresh squeezed orange juice and this wonderful, light praline cake topped with fresh whipped cream and raspberries. They had tons of cans of Pabst and bloody Marys too. A very good crowd of people, adult people, socializing and eating. I quite enjoyed it. When E. and her friend arrived, they announced that a guy they knew had gotten punched out by a woman in a bar on New Year’s because she was so sick of him arguing with her about the amount of hours she said she worked at a cranberry farm. That’s pretty funny. The Plumber had gotten surly with me because he drank too much and was lonely and needy. Let New Year’s get the best of him. Then WCZ arrived and told us that he had just seen some guy peeling himself off of the pavement at a local park. Hope he understands the significance of the fact that he is still alive and smartens up. Ah, New Year’s. Gotta love it!

I just watched two movies that I found interesting. First was Anything Else, which is significant because it is the only Woody Allen film I’ve viewed in its entirety. It’s the one with Jason Biggs from American Pie. He is a Jewish comic writer and he is dating this aspiring actress, played by Christina Ricci. I guess Allen is known for creating these highly neurotic characters. It does get a bit grating sometimes, but to me it’s mostly amusing, probably because I am quite neurotic. (I’m sure that statement is quite shocking!) The NYC setting enticed me. So many great panoramic views of the island from many different vantage points. Allen played another comic writer who doubles as Biggs’ sort of older life-mentor guy. He’s crazy and bashes in some brute’s car window because the brute stole his parking spot. Ricci can’t have sex with Biggs anymore because she is having some psychosocial drama all of the time, but he is obsessed with her. Jimmy Fallon has a bit part as her ex boyfriend. Danny Devito plays Biggs’ agent. It ends with Biggs leaving NYC to pursue his career in LA. Ricci says to him, upon hearing the news, that people who are big losers in NYC often become millionaires out in LA. Something else happens at the end too, predictably perhaps, but I do not want to spoil the entire ending. Another good line, I thought, was when Biggs tells his shrink that he has so many problems that committing suicide would not solve them all. Stockard Channing is pretty amusing as Ricci’s mom too, snorting coke off of Biggs’ laptop. Biggs really pulled off his role, considering how he is known for much fluffier films. I enjoyed it.

Then I watched House of Sand and Fog, with Jennifer Connelly and Ben Kingsley. All of the actors were good. That movie fucked me up. It’s a tragedy in the modern sense, I guess. Commentary of what happens when people get too wound up about material possessions, but goes deeper than that. Whites mistrust Middle Easterners, Middle Easterners stereotype and scorn Whites. Very very intense, complex stuff. So much about race relations, longing, despair, the human need not to be alone, the need to provide for one’s family, the need to change one’s dull life. So much stuff. It’s subtle too. The ending is very dramatic, and perhaps a tad unnecessary. I do not wish to spoil it though. This is one of those films I could really write about. It really moved me. I cried for fuck’s sake!

I am going to watch State and Main with SJP and William H Macy next. I think that’s the one where Macy goes full frontal, but maybe not. Seemed like an interesting cast. I remember hearing a lot about it. I never get to be sloth like and just lounge and watch movies like this, and it’s a bullshit dreary day, so I’m going to milk it.

New Year’s Eve was ok. I did not experience or invite drama, so really, it was a success. Dinner with four friends, three of whom I am quite comfortable with, and a lot of vulgarity and titty flashing and picture posing. Passing the time in a fun and affordable way. Nothing wrong with that. I did not feel anything when the clock struck midnight though. I just worried that I would not be able to finagle my car out of the Chicago style parking spot I lodged it into. Fucking Brady St area. Dick Clark was a joke. We watched him for about five minutes. Due to his stroke, his voice is all fucked up. Not to be harsh, but it’s really time he retired. Around 1am I stopped by Foundation to see TC and DiNO and to see who else was there. The Plumber oddly was sitting with them, and two other people I knew were sitting in the same bar stools they were sitting in about 6 hours earlier. No interesting men in sight, but DiNO informed me that she has some freaky tattooed friend that she wants me to meet, which is very nice. I stayed there for an hour and went home. To my cat. Not all that bad, I guess.

On New Year’s Day, I hung out at this cool, snazzy, cute couple’s house in Riverwest all afternoon. They put out a great spread of food, such as quiche, smoked salmon and whitefish, bagels with all of the fixings, sweet potato stuffing, shrimp and grits, made to order waffles, fresh fruit and fresh squeezed orange juice and this wonderful, light praline cake topped with fresh whipped cream and raspberries. They had tons of cans of Pabst and bloody Marys too. A very good crowd of people, adult people, socializing and eating. I quite enjoyed it. When E. and her friend arrived, they announced that a guy they knew had gotten punched out by a woman in a bar on New Year’s because she was so sick of him arguing with her about the amount of hours she said she worked at a cranberry farm. That’s pretty funny. The Plumber had gotten surly with me because he drank too much and was lonely and needy. Let New Year’s get the best of him. Then WCZ arrived and told us that he had just seen some guy peeling himself off of the pavement at a local park. Hope he understands the significance of the fact that he is still alive and smartens up. Ah, New Year’s. Gotta love it!