I know I had them recently...

I am not on the top of my game today. I left the house without my wallet. Which isn't too much of a problem, except I need it to clock in so that I get paid. Moderately important. Plus, what if I need food between school or lace or lace and home? or what if I get pulled over? and so on and so on.

But, the mere forgetting of my wallet isn't what suggested to me that today might need either a fast-forward or a do-over. I rushed home instead of going to my institute class in the one flexible hour I have. I pull into my driveway and, then start frantically looking for my keys. I unzip my bag. They're not there. I unzip the larger pouch. Also not their. I feel in my pockets. I start wondering where I could have possibly put them.

Then, I realize, uh, they're in the ignition. Yeah, that's right. I'm awesome sometimes. Good thing I'm not in charge of something important. Because I'm pretty sure I'd lose it or kill it. Or both.

Praxis is so over-rated

I love being back in school. So much it takes my breath away. I mean, basically, I get to spend my days reading really cool things and then sitting around discussing them. Yes, I could do with fewer insufferable types in several of my classes (though, the line between insufferable and interesting is a hair's breadth of difference*). And yeah, I could live without the feeling that I'm a naughty ten year old which I daily experience in my Hebrew class. But overall, I can't get enough of it. I love learning that Ancient Greek lacked fricatives. Or that African-American churches were among the first to ordain females. Plus, I can't get enough of ridiculous things like hearing "that depends on your reading of both Bush and Aeneas" or "that is why you should never agree with anything".

The stories are great, but the actual content, that is what I'm learning, is much trickier. My friend Twirl asked after one of the first days of school what I learned that day. I was completely at a loss. It's not that I'm not learning anything, it's just...well, it's complicated. I mean, I could jump into a discussion of how Paul shows evidence of an afterlife where only the good survive. Or one about the nature of symbolic math. Or maybe about dageshing verbs because nuns want to disappear. The problem is that these conversations can't really just start and end like that. The things I am learning are not, sadly, sound bite worthy.

I imagine this is how all fields are when you get to near-graduation levels. But, other fields are more reality-based. That is, they map onto the world in a way that makes learning new things about them actually useful. Us humanities types, though, are ivory tower at its best. We talk about things seemingly for the mere reason of talking about them. We don't care if we can actually do anything, just that we can think about things. And, bonus points for the person who thinks the strangest.

It's nice being back in a place where my obdurate desire to find a context for every minority reading, my ability to soak up new vocabulary words like a sponge, and my skills in deconstructing are pretty much signs of absolute success. Sure, as my sister pointed out to me this weekend, I'll probably be in school until I'm in my mid-thirties, but really, why shouldn't I be? It's all I'm good at. I think I'll stick around as long as I can, thank you very much.

*and it's difficult to see a hair a midnight

Dear Persons Responsible for the Resurfacing of Foothill

Look, I get that road construction is a complicated matter. These roads need fixing. Any sort of work is going to impinge on traffic. I am not, at least yet, the center of the known universe. However, don't you think you could have planned slightly better? Timed your project a bit differently? Maybe over a semester break? Or during the summer? Or not at the same time that you, or a cooperative agency*, has made 13th East into a disaster? Because, I'm not sure if you know this, but there are a lot of people who daily make a trek to the University of Utah. Y'know, that big group of buildings sort of east of downtown? The place that employees more Utahns than all but three other entities? And has about 28,000 students?

I only ask these questions because you made me late to class this morning. It had absolutely nothing to do with my sleeping in slightly and then dragging my feet to get ready. Also, if you continue said project, I may have to switch buses on the day that I ride public transit. And the thought of having to get up at 6.45 in order to catch a 7.15 bus makes me want to cry a little bit. Plus, I need that extra sleep to adequately deal with the hour-long scolding that my Hebrew class turns into.

But, since we're in this mess, please hurry.



*Who actually is responsible for non-interstate road construction? Is it the city?

Plus ça change...

I'm not the kind of person who generally, as a rule, enjoys change. Usually, even something minor like my parents junking the car that I drove all through college or painting the walls of my childhood kitchen bright blue is enough to make me more than a touch despondent. These sorts of things bother me, the uneasiness and lack of consistency. If things change, it means they're not stable and, if these trivial things change so easily, what about the bigger things? I mean, it's ridiculous, obviously, to compare a hunk of metal or a design choice to anything major. I realize that, but still, there's a worry that sets up shop at the back of my head every time even a minor difference appears.

Which is why I'm even more disoriented by the last couple of months. I have undergone a dizzying number of alterations over that time period. Even the most dramatic-appearing ones (that of quitting my job or of going back to school) are just a part of what appears to be some sort of drastic life overhaul. Some things, naturally, aren't my choosing (not that I'm opposed to them, but more I didn't have the only say in the matters, if you will). But it's not the nature or even the number of changes that makes me feel uneasy this time. Rather, I'm out of sorts precisely because I'm not out of sorts. Quite the contrary: I'm remarkably happy.

I don't do content well. I do discontent and malcontent splendidly. I'm also pretty adept at unsatisfied and unfulfilled. And I can suck it up or grit my teeth with the best of them. But, to crib Michael Cunningham, against all odds and expectations life has burst open and given me pretty much everything. I should probably just, at least for this moment, allow myself to enjoy what's going on. To not fret about how it'll all fall apart, or worry about what will happen when suddenly a different set of changes sends me spiraling in a direction I never intended or even want.

I can't do that, though. I haven't the practice. And it disrupts my whole personal narrative. But, for the moment, I'm going to try. Really hard. And just accept that things can, in fact, work out for me beautifully.