What I Learned at the Bull-A-Rama

1. Everyone likes a fat, dancing rodeo clown.

2. A bra can be used to hold one's cell phone.

3. I am not nearly as tan as I thought I was.

4. Watching skinny cowboys willingly get on a 1,300 lb. bull is pretty freaking amazing.

5. I will wait 20 minutes in a smelly line to use a smelly bathroom.

6. Watching 4 year olds try to ride a sheep is pretty freaking awesome.

7. I very, very badly want to find a mechanical bull.

8. There ain't no doubt I love this land.

What's Up

Listening to Madonna and thinking. Not obnoxious Kabbalah Madonna, but awesome Immaculate Collection Madonna. Sacrilegious Catholic Madonna--my fave. The throb in my gums gets fainter and fainter each day and today I have whole day free.

Syllabi and homework schedules are done and sent in for copying. First week lesson plans are tweaked and ready to go. Meetings are over and eyebrows are waxed. Now it's just the last few days before the rush. Last night was porch sitting and margaritas.

I am eating food again and loving it! I missed eating so, so much. After a meeting earlier this week, L. and I went for lunch at Chae's, and it was delightful. The first meal I enjoyed in over a week and a half. Broccoli, lo mein, zucchini. Yuh-um.

Our campus is a construction zone. It's hard to see that. It's hard to understand that there is money for that, but not money for the ones who teach and keep the university running. I propose this: someone bigwig can put their name all over, say, a $4,000 bump in my salary. I'll put their face on my office door and put their logo on every handout I make. They can sponsor the hell out of me, and I'll make them proud.

Isn't that how it works? Money for new buildings and sidewalks and lawns and lampposts and athletics is always easy to find. Money to attract and keep talent here, money to continue nationally-known, significant programs is scant. The higher-ups have spent the last 7 months jerking around B's father. They showed the man as little respect and professionalism as possible. Another friend who works on campus is feeling devalued, and I am blown away. Just absolutely blown away.

Things will work out, I hope. And this semester will be a good one. I was in a Business Writing meeting yesterday, and it was, um, okay. I realize I haven't been teaching for years and years, but I've taught a lot. By my calculations, after this semester, I'll have taught over 32 classes. That translates to over 550 students who have walked into my classroom.

And I'm confident about my teaching abilities. I wasn't. Not before, not when I was just starting out and took everything, and I mean everything, to heart. But I've matured as a teacher and I feel confident that I give my students an engaging and intellectual experience when they choose me. I received a letter from my Dean yesterday. According to student evaluations, my classes last Spring were ranked in the top few dozen in the College of Arts and Sciences. Now, I don't know how many classes the College offers each semester; I would guess it's in the hundreds. And I'm teaching required, gen ed classes. I'm not teaching, you know, the History of Rock and Roll, or Art Appreciation, or Acting I, or Human Sexuality, or other sexy classes like that.

But now I feel like my Comp I class is a pretty sexy class. And that I am making a goddamn difference.

And that's a pretty awesome way to start out a new semester.

Sunday Night

I am incessantly blogging about my wisdom teeth because I am incessantly consumed with my wisdom teeth. In the week preceding and the week after getting my wisdom teeth removed, I have googled variations of "wisdom teeth" and "pain" compulsively.

And what I have found through my "research" is that wisdom teeth are effin' weird. They are primitive. And gross.




Me: Bridge, do you think we'll have wisdom teeth in 300 years?

Bridge: Yup.

Me: But ... why?? They don't serve a purpose anymore!

Bridge: But we get them removed. They don't impede anything. They don't disrupt reproduction. Until reproduction rates are disrupted, they aren't going anywhere.

Me: Well. It sure doesn't make me want to kiss. I think that disrupts reproduction.

Bridge: Think again.




Last night was a rough night. I was up most of it with ice wrapped around my face and clutching my bottle of Darvocet. I Just Say No to Darvocet during the day, but at night? Lemme at 'em.

This coming week is meetings, meetings, meetings.

And the week after is teaching, teaching, teaching.

Saturday Morning

I'm up kinda early this morning.

My mouth hurts, but not where I would expect it to. Where the oral surgeon made his cuts--no pain; my bottom gums closer to the front of my mouth--lots of pain. I wonder why.

I took my 600 mgs of Advil (ok, and 600 mgs is a lot of Advil. I feel like I may succumb to the lamest OD ever) and have my ice pack on.

My ice pack has become my crutch. I need it; I crave it. I love it.

Last night right before I fell asleep, I heard sirens. I whispered in the dark to B., "sirens...?" and she whispered back, "yes, Vermillion is just getting ready for the students in a few weeks." A few weeks, B.? Try a few days. And then she was up, tossing and turning, because even though we both know exactly when the semester starts, we both didn't think it was quite so soon. I am pretty sure I wrote this last year at this time, but here we go again: it's almost September. But I feel like summer is just getting started, man. We're just getting started.

I think I am ready for the new year, though. It's already shaping up well. I will lead a workshop on creative nonfiction at the Sorcerer's Apprentice Camp in September, will read poetry at the Western Lit conference in Spearfish in early October and fiction at the Milton Conference in late October, and will have my work debuted at the Sioux Falls Pavilion in December as part of P3: Poets, Painters, and the Pavilion. Oh yeah, I'll also teach a bajillion students.

I'm excited to get back into teaching. I've gotten e-mails from some returning superstars; I'm always glad to have those students back in class. And, if nothing else, I'll be glad to get back into the classroom so I have something real to get frustrated about, besides the parking antics of my neighbors and the way clover has claimed my lawn. When I meet J. for lunch, I'll actually have to schedule a time, not just send a text that reads, "lunch this week? all week? anytime, anyplace!" When I meet you all for happy hour, I'll actually deserve a happy hour.

OK, Fall '09, I'm ready for you.

Or at least I will be, after my shopping trip to SUX with Bridge, Weez, and Jacy today. I need some tan trouser cut pants. And a planner. And some Clearasil. Then, Fall '09, I'll be totally ready for you.

Oh. I need a haircut and an eyebrow wax, too. And then, Fall '09, watch out.

Highway to the Danger Zone

I've had this rockin' song stuck in my head all day. Because it's Day 4 of Recovery: Wisdom Teeth, and this is the time frame that dry sockets, if they are gonna happen, are gonna happen. But, I am keeping it real and keeping it positive. Now I feel like a rapper: I'd like to thank God and Jesus and ...

I LOVE ENTOURAGE! Almost done with Season 2, baby, and Bridge just brought home season 3. My bud J. wants to be Ari Gold for one day. I think I'd like to be Johnny Drama for one day. Just walk around like a complete, strutting, arrogant, ignorant, puffed up jerk. I went to high school with about 17 Johnny Dramas. Good God.

It's been kinda nice hunkered down. I read a little, watch TV, eff around in the internet, zone out. J and E came over for a visit yesterday, and K stopped over with pesto and garden veggies and a new book for me. Totes awesome.

I am kinda weaning myself off the Darvocet. Oh, it's good. But I feel all hazy and heady on it--my pulse races a bit. So, I am doing the every 6 hours cycle. I last took some at noon and I feel pretty good right now. Clear headed. Nice.

How 'bout that weather today?

Day 2

of Operation Wisdom Teeth out of my Flippin' Head:

It's going pretty good.

B is a good lil' nurse, but would maybe be better in a cute white outfit and a pointy hat with a red cross on it.

I'm wrapped up in ice and drugs and loving it. It's a good thing I'm not into drugs, or else I am pretty sure I would be in an alley somewhere, all skinny and dirty with bad skin. When I had my appendix out, morphine was sosososo good. Good God, is morphine good. The pain reliever I have now feels pretty nice, too. So, again, it's a good thing I don't actively go looking for drugs.

I slept well last night and think I will start season 1 of Entourage in a bit. Though, Fox 44 does have its lineup of 17 hours of daytime judge shows going on, and I do love me some judge shows.

It's beautiful day out, and I want to be in the pool, but will take it easy again today. Maybe tomorrow I can venture out.

Digital TV is Lame.

Why did we buy a converter box, exactly? So I can watch pixel-ly, blocky, "searching for signal" television? Awesome.

Two hours of yard work today has me down for the count. Weeded, watered, trimmed, weedwacked, mowed, swept. If my entire lawn wasn't all clover, I would probably say it's the best on the block. From a distance, it's all green, though, so whatev. I'll settle for 4th best on the block.

My friend J. wrote to me that she had an "emotional hangover" and that's probably the most perfect phrase. I've felt like that on many occasions--when I feel I've acted like a jackass, like a flirt, like an exhibitionist, like the girls I usually cannot handle. But, this weekend was fun, and I like to dance.

My wisdom teeth come out tomorrow. One more thing I've worried about the past 6 years, crossed off the list. Praise the Lord and pass the nitrous oxide. I'll be hunkered down for the next few days, but you are certainly welcome to come over and watch Entourage and Lost with me. I'll be on the couch; you can have the chair. I plan on being a huge burden to B. She plans on it, too.

Overheard at the wedding dance last night:
"I totally have frizzy hair right now, but, like, it's blonde, so, like, you can't really tell."

Should I grill or grill for dinner tonight? I think I'll grill.