The beginning of the end...nah, it's just Tuesday

Monday I finished my coursework for the M.A. program. That felt good. Tuesday I defended my prospectus. That was pretty nerve racking. I'm not sure why, I've spent time in each professors office, worked with each one quite a bit, but the combination of all three of them together, wow, I was actually shaking for the first five or ten minutes (This may have been caused by standing out in the snow for 45 minutes waiting for the UTA bus that never came).

When it was all said and done, I felt relieved, but more than that I realized just how much I have ahead of me. I also learned how little I know about academic writing. That might be a bad thing to realize just before I begin my thesis. At the same time, a professor once said, the purpose of the M.A. thesis is to teach you how to write. I thought I knew a thing or two already but some of the things said on Tuesday seemed so obvious, yet they had never crossed my mind. I've always been somewhat of a quick learner. The problem is, I'm the kind of kid that had to be thrown in the pool to learn how to swim. That's how I feel now, barely staying afloat. Always a bit overwhelmed, always playing catch up and trying to leave my ignorance behind as I run frantically toward the future. I'm tired already.

"Hey man, I just want some muesli."

Living in Boston I can honestly say I felt inner city pressure. I think it's akin to university finals pressure, except for the part about second hand underpants. This one's for you Chris.

Oda al mate

Let's face it, I'm not talented enough to write an ode to mate, but I'm dedicating this post to mate. When I was a boy we lived in southern California and I had a friend named Jordan Giuliani. At the time I could never figure out why his last name was Italian if his parents were from Argentina. I do remember that every time I would play at Jordan's house we would drink mate and watch futbol or cool sci-fi movies (after we played G.I. Joes of course). That was my first exposure to mate and when I think about mate I think of friends.

Later my friend Mac would patiently teach me how to properly cebar my mate and it became a regular habit. I remember many days in the office when we would share a mate, ruminate on philosophical questions, or simply talk about the simple things that make us happy. I've always known mate as a friendship beverage. Though there are many times when I drink it in solitude, on the farm, late nights while writing, quite afternoons staring out the window at the mountains. But it always tastes best when I can share it.

I like my wooden mate and the way it contours to my hand, I like that the yerba comes to me from Argentina, I love the warmth of the mate going down my throat and the foam that forms at the top sometimes. I enjoy the different blends and how each one is connected to a memory. But most of all, I love that when I sip my bombilla I know that my friends, even perhaps my childhood friend Jordan, would share with me if the distance didn't separate us.

Disappearing

i am at the office on campus listening to phillip glass' "einstein on the beach" in order drown out the giggling aftermath of a chinese culture party while writing the prospectus for my thesis about ghosts in literature and film which will also serve as an outline for my term paper on a book about specters, phillip's minimalist composition acting as a caricature of the word revenant, mulling over the numerous meanings of ghost, haunting, Shakespeare's usage and why it garnered certain meaning in popular usage i can't stop thinking about how much i miss my wife and my little girls and that by the time this is all finished i may not be much more than the dream of a haunting in their beautiful memories.



This court of common pleas is now in session
this court of common pleas is now in session
This court of common pleas is now in session
this court of common pleas is now in session
This court of common pleas is now in session
this court of common pleas is now in session
[...]
Hey Mr. Bojangles

ghosts: 1/ben: 0