Thursday, February 22, 2007 | by nathan

123 - Carmela

A real hero: she gives her life – all her care, all her energy – to high risk teens in a program that Bush wants to eliminate, forever.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007 | by nathan

37 hours

Tuesday:

6:45 A.M.: Stumble out of bed. Spend a bit of time on the internet, a bit playing with the dog, then go to work.

8:10 A.M.: Arrive at work. Shortly thereafter, receive an e-mail saying class is canceled.

11:47 A.M.: Get another e-mail wondering where the hell all the papers are I was supposed to have graded by today. Commence freaking out. 

1:53 P.M.: Leave work.

6:37 P.M.: Leave for Norman to pick up said papers and start grading them. Have dinner at Chili’s.

9:07 P.M.: Depart Norman.

10:09 P.M.: Begin grading papers. 

Wednesday:

5:13 A.M.: Fall asleep on the sofa, still grading horrible short stories.

6:04 A.M.: Wake up, continue grading.

8:05 A.M.: Call work, say, "I’m grading, and I’ve barely slept. I’m not coming in."

11:16 A.M.: Finish grading. Depart for Norman. Make a couple calls on the way to let everyone in North America know that I spent 13 hours grading. IN.A.ROW. Don’t mention the 45+ minutes of sleep, as I suspect it will erode pity.

12:03 P.M.: Arrive for G.A. meeting that never totally materializes.

12:07 P.M.: Return graded short stories. Think about committing suicide, decide I want to lose ten pounds first.

1:09 P.M.: Depart for interview for Oklahoma Gazette article, back in Oklahoma City.

2:00 P.M.: Begin interview.

2:27 P.M.: Stop by the house to let the dog go potty and retrieve MacBook power cord, left at home.

3:33 P.M.: Return to Norman in time for meeting with professor wherein she tells me my book is weak and getting weaker.

5:02 P.M.: Begin to get a splitting headache that renders it difficult to see. 

5:17 P.M.: Cancel evening classes, leaving a gaggle of slightly-annoyed-yet-relieved freshmen to walk back home.

5:46 P.M.: Lift head up from desk long enough to write irritated blog entry about how I used to be able to function just fine with a whole lot less sleep.

5:48 P.M.: Begin packing bags - the iPod will have to work on the charge it has - and depart for home.

6:30 P.M.: Totally bust Lent by watching The Simpsons. Write note to self, reminding me to lovingly invite blog readers to bite me, blow ‘I-told-you-so’s’ out their asses, etc. etc. etc.

7:15 P.M.: Terrified, realize I do not deserve my wonderful readers. Also begin to freak out about Gazette deadline and the sudden realization that I am absolutely riddled with cancer.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007 | by nathan

Lent Lite

I’m not good at Lent. Let’s just get that out of the way now. That whole thing in Christianity where you have to die to yourself blah bitty blah - yeah, I suck at that. So the past several years I haven’t done Lent.

Part of this is that I got really sick of people giving up things that either a) they never used/participated in in the first place, like "Oh, I gave up crack cocaine, trips to Mongolia, and ingesting metal," or b) were just an excuse to diet/exercise or to NOT diet/exercise. It’s irritating.

This year I was thinking it would be the same as always: I’d think briefly about giving something up and then just not. Then, tonight - I’m catching up on two weeks’ worth of grading - it hit me. Television. Television NEEDS.TA.GO.

I have a novel due in May. Finalized. Ready for publication. DONE. How many words have I written? Fewer than the number of years since Lent was invented.

I don’t think television is evil. I really do not. I think most of it is. I think broadcast news is the thing that will bring our society all the way down. I think reality television is one of the things anthropologists of the future will look at and go, "What the mother fuck?" And I think most scripted drama - sitcoms especially - are written by computers, or monkeys. Or monkeys at computers.

Still, there is some gold out there in T.V. Land. Veronica Mars, for instance, is genius, and recently, so is Heroes. The Simpsons is still wonderful after so many years. Saturday Night Live is finally great again. If you’re lucky you can find reruns of Dead Like Me, Buffy, Angel, Firefly. Anything from the Whedon ouvre, really. Not all television is evil; life doesn’t break down quite that easily. So if you’re thinking of congratulating me for giving it up for 40 days, don’t.

Don’t congratulate me because I just don’t want to hear how evil you think T.V. is and how much more wonderful people are who do not partake. I disagree. Also, I’m not giving it up completely. I’m giving it up from Monday to Friday.

Why the weekend exception? Mostly, I NEED TO KNOW WHO KILLED DEAN O’DELL. Hopefully from Monday to Friday I can catch up on writing, and on Saturday I can catch up on TiVo, and on Sunday I can enjoy my usual "have a beer and watch the Simpsons" ritual. Everybody wins. Everybody, of course, being me.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007 | by nathan

122 - Jenny

One of those camp friendships – we got incredibly close, incredibly quickly, then kept in spurious touch for awhile, and then didn’t, anymore. It’s a shame, really.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007 | by nathan

disappointment

So, I reactivated my Facebook account. How I hate you all.*

No, in all seriousness it is REALLY good to catch up with people. 

*by "you" I mean "me," and by "hate" I mean "HATE." 

Tuesday, February 20, 2007 | by nathan

121 - Angie (Prof. H)

Inspired me to think about inequality – economic, sexual, racial – in a way that church never did. Taught me that insecurity is the voice of the oppressor.

Monday, February 19, 2007 | by nathan

someday the wind will take me away

Brian’s grandfather died on Valentine’s Day. He spent Wednesday through Saturday helping prepare for the funeral, which, apparently, was S.R.O.

Today, on my way to work, I was almost killed by a motorist who felt his trip through the parking lot needed to happen at 40 M.P.H. instead of the normal 5-10 us sane motorists like to go. I was on my bike, and when I saw him rushing at me, out of nowhere, I totally jumped ship. I leapt off the bike, rolled on the ground - thankfully, not a scratch on me - then stood up and started cursing him to high heaven. He had the unbelievable gall to honk at me - to HONK.AT.ME. - despite the fact that it was his speedy ass that almost killed me. I reached in my pocket to grab my cell phone, because I was going to call the police, and perhaps he thought I was going for a switchblade, because he pulled out and sped away. Jackass.

Oklahoma City is not completely biker-friendly.

Last month in the mail I got a solicitation from my bank, offering me a great rate on life insurance. I like when things like my credit cards, bank account and life insurance are all in one place, so I decided to do it. So now, if anything unexpected should happen to me, Brian will be receiving a chunk of change; enough to pay off all my student loans, credit cards, and the mortgage, because I figure - hey. If he’s all sad and mourning over me, at least he shouldn’t have to worry about the house payment.

All the things above have got me thinking about death - mine, specifically. Eventually, someday, hopefully far, far in the future, I am going to die. Die! I have been thinking about how the world goes on without me when I’m gone. I was talking about this with someone recently who said she hated it when people said someone "passed." I rather like this term for dying - like you aced your exams, or declined an offer to renew your lease, as Anne Lamott says. Like it was time to move on - to graduate, or to relocate. I like both images.

I am afraid of death in the sense that it is something I have yet to experience, and so on that level it frightens me. On a spiritual level, I don’t fear it, exactly, though I think I might be a little disappointed if it happened now. There’s still a lot of stuff on my to-do list, you see, and I still have a lot to say.

Saturday while Brian was at his grandfather’s funeral I planned to go spend some time at Border’s, grading papers and getting some writing done. When I got there, I could not countenance going inside, and so I turned the car around and left the parking lot. I got on the expressway, and before I knew it I was in western Oklahoma, my absolute favorite place on Earth. Driving on the plains, I feel closer to God than at any other time. The winter wheat is just starting to come in, and soon it will explode with this green like I’ve only ever seen in Oklahoma and Ireland. Several times I pulled over just to stare in complete awe at the hugeness of the sky, the chill of the wind, the sheer beauty of it all.

Then once I got to Watonga, I stopped at Sonic, got a Dr. Pepper, and then hit I-40 and came home, watching the most amazing sunset through my rearview mirror.

If anything happens to me, I want to be cremated, and I want everyone who cares about me to drive out onto the plains. I want you see the incredible beauty God has placed in western Oklahoma. I want you to release me there, the one place on Earth where I feel most at home, both in an Earthly and a Heavenly sense. Then I want you to all go on vacation, somewhere beautiful, with beaches and sunshine and cool drinks, somewhere you’ve always wanted to go, and I want you all to enjoy each other’s company and toast me, and have a really wonderful time. If I know you’re doing all that, then I won’t be afraid to go. 

Monday, February 19, 2007 | by nathan

120 - Athina

My brother’s lazy ex-girlfriend wore out her welcome real fast. There’s nothing quite like finding yourself doing laundry for someone who doesn’t live in your house.

Monday, February 19, 2007 | by nathan

Sold Short but Caught Up

I’ve fallen behind on my attempt to read a book a week, and so, in the interest of catching up, I did three really easy books in a row. The first was a book I have already read, albeit only one time. The second was a horribly trashy celebrity tell-all biography, one of those things that sells really well in the U.K. but that Americans turn their noses up at (and rightfully so). The third, which I’m reading now to catch up, is my pastor, the guy who is going to do my wedding - it’s his book, which is actually quite good, especially if George W. Bush ever made you give serious thought to honest-to-God drug addiction, as he did me and a whole bunch of other well-meaning liberals I know.

It’s a little embarrassing, admitting that I’m just now reading my pastor’s book, though in my defense my friend Todd borrowed it the day I bought it and, as far as I can tell, has yet to even read it, much less return it. This is fine; he can keep that copy, I now have a new one. At any rate, I hope to be caught up by the end of the week and to get ahead when, next week, Brian is out of town from Monday to Friday. He’s going off to Vegas for work - no, really - and then I’m flying out a week from this Friday to meet him there, and we’re spending the week in Vegas.

I went to Las Vegas once, when I was 12. My dad, brother and I were driving to California and we stopped there overnight, stayed in an overlit Motel 6, and drove up and down the Strip in 110-degree (at night) weather. It’s never been my idea of a fun vacation; I can think of about a zillion places I’d choose to go first, but now that Bri and I are going I’m looking very forward to it. I might just throw aside all my pretenses and be an honest-to-God tourist in my own country for once. After all, what happens in Vegas…

Sunday, February 18, 2007 | by nathan

119 - Jeff

I knew hooking up with you was wrong, and I loathed myself. So why did it comfort me, years later, to see you meth-addicted and ugly?