I told a friend today I was going to quit blogging...

But I didn't realize I was going to end up at the public library sans the cash necessary to copy out my readings for wednesday. Thus, the heat outside keeps me looking for things to do inside and this will suffice until the back of my neck dries...

I have have mentioned before how uncanny it is to now live in a college town in the mountains. Everything breathes and sighs and moans the University. I enjoy watching it. Sorority girls (shit tons of them, their fathers should be ashamed, and I am not even kidding), a decent college radio station (though the NPR stations play news for 2 hrs in the morning and 2 in the evening), and a main drag of bars that provide for some of the most provocative people watching I have ever experienced. It is a spectacle. I have been trying to wrap my mind around "Game Days" when the town will swell to cheer on the football team. These have always been alien things to me. The town my college was in was a desert and we occupied a terrarium inside of a bell jar inside of it. The City did not seem to care to much what you were studying and prefered it if you got out of it's damn way. It is just so jarring. This is not to say that I don't like. Anything but to be honest. Everythings is within walking distance. The elevation means it is 10degrees cooler here than anywhere else in the state. It is full of life in a way that only a town full of young people can generate. My public library card bears the quote, "In our youth our hears were touched with fire." That is Oliver Wendall Holmes Jr. (This card is red, the blue was a much nicer color but had a T.S. Eliot quote, which I can do without) I suppose this to be the case.
(Rambles somemore)
First class of the day, of the semester, of the school year, of my career at this institution. Since so few of my NSU credits transerred I am, in essence, starting my MA over again. I decided against taking Symbolic Logic (since I know NOTHING about logic and this course would be easy I was told if I was any good at college level math and since I chose philosophy I think we know how that went). So what was my first class? "20th Century Continental Philosophy." I must be quick not to judge or despair. I sat through the entire class maybe taking 3 lines worth of notes, maybe. The topic for today? What is 20th Century Continental Philosophy? I must be quick not to judge or despair. I suppose I decided to play to my strengths. I had no idea that I was truly going to be starting over. I have read everything on the syllabus except the Husserl (which I am only nominally excited about being exposed to). It will be review. Relearning how to read for both myself and others. This summer has been about me. I have torn through many books. I have been working on all the back issues of The New Yorker that have escaped my reading since the spring (even the Fiction). So the idea of having to read for anything other than enjoyment is, well, hrmm, not too exciting. It feels intrusive to me now. Especially since I have formed my own opinions (some more learned than others) about what I have to write about again. This sounds arrogant or repugnant I am sure but its how I feel.
Oh well, cheers.

A new chapter in my life...

Well for the first time ever I am living by myself and living in a true college town. It is a whole other beast. I have always lived in towns that had schools. Little Rock had a few. Conway had 3. New York, well, it had a lot. It is a whole different vibe up here. It's in the mountains. It's fill of hippies, dirt punks, and of course frat boys (which is good because that means I can get rid of the truck to some chump who voted for McCain and wears "deck shoes").
I have signed up for my classes and I am super psyched. Symoblic Logic, Skepticism, and Explanation. So as such, I feel some momentum for the first time in a while. In some senses I feel as though I had to leave LR but it sorta provided the impetus to keep moving. So we will see. Enough of my drivel. Back the job search.

...

I love ellipsis...
They seem to indicate without doing so. I stupid thing to say out loud but a lot of time it truly is what is unsaid that means more. I look, a gesture: a smile, a hug, etc...
I have had a lot of these of late. Things unsaid and such that I worry about it.
Oh well,
...

Wow, another chance for post-debauchery introspection...

So I went to a wedding in Fayetteville and it was great. Except I have been hungover for 2 days now. I always find that the 2.5 hr drive home from the great North Western frontier provides a chance for some deep thinking (while listening to Ryan Adam's Love is Hell, as is my custom). I realize that in a week I embark upon a new chapter of my life and a chance to try what I failed to do in The City: grow-the-fuck-up. Now some of you might say (from experiencce) that such a mission is doomed to failure in that deranged and depraved town but I can promise you it is a far less dangerous of a beast than Gotham. So I began to think about life, liberty, and the recent free time I came into (not that I am too pleased by this) and decided to make up a list of things to accomplish while living in Fayett-Nam. This are derived from a few premises which I will outline first.
1. I am fat. There is no bones about it. I am sure you can read back through the enthralling archives of this blog and find me mentioning it many times over and how I planned to do something about it. Well, I didn't. As per the last time I see myself mentioning my grand designs to get that svelt thing around my lower abdomen/upper groin that Brad Pitt has (damn his eyes/*see picture below) I have put on about 8 pounds. Way to fucking go dude. I admit even though I was concerned about this issue it was not until last weekend that I had the kind of epiphany necessary for true life changes. But it is too embaressing to discuss here.
2. I have an unhealthy relationship with alcohol. This is also simply a fact and it negatively effects many aspects of my life (not least of which is my girlish figure).
3. I don't write enough. And under no circumstances do I count this tripe I am working on at this moment as "writing" (though I do need to do more off this. It is healthy in a wierd way). I mean concerted, structure, intentional writing. While I shall not perish I do need to publish.
4. I am a quitter with poor follow through skills (see 1-3). Though I feel that grappling with #1 will lead to an improvement on this front.

Roommate just walked in. Time to prepare myself a feast of sticks and twigs so that I can garner that sweet bod like Brad's. More to follow.



















* That thing up there!