Last night I dreamt of taking innumerable Irish car bombs, never getting drunk and blocking off the exit to West Ashley via arson (I'm not sure what I torched, but it was something). (The exit to West Ashley is actually a bridge, but it was an exit in my dreams.... however, the Waffle House was still there.)

Now: making Valentines for my students, thinking of a Valentine BINGO game, listening to the Modern Lovers. I bought my 8 year-olds inflatable whistles! Pretty cool, huh?

Earlier, I applied for teaching fellowships in Philly, Texas, and Chicago. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

And I'm so glad I'm not in Brooklyn right now. In Charleston, I can barely see my breath! (What is it about the weather?)

at present, I'm writing my personal statement for the Texas Teaching Fellows program, realizing how egotistical I sound (all the time), trying to churn this out, trying so hard to make my life work and seem and be meaningful. is it working?

we'll go for a "jesus, I don't fucking know..." with that one.

jesus, I don't fucking know.

"sleep the clock around": song of the first 2 months of 2006. as I wrote craig in an epistle composed while procrastinating earlier this evening, I don't have to get up before noon most days. thus, I don't.

in the "get out of town" update of 2006, I am applying for:
-teaching fellowships in Philly, Austin, Chicago
-teach abroad programs that I'm wary of
-publishing jobs in any city except NYC or Boston
-jobs of which I am capable in any city except NYC or Boston

things I am over:
-serving at an Irish pub
-my shitty apartment, including my dirty room, this fucking couch

still keeping me steady:
-third graders
-the ambition returns
-the fingers feel marvellous on the keys
-studying for something, even if it is only the GRE

it is still pretty here, although going down to freezing right about now for the first time in a while. during the day, I don't need a coat. at night, when I have to wear one to smoke comfortably, I complain to myself. there's the "my weather is better than yours" for this time around.

aight, cigarette (cold) then writing the last 300 words.

Here we go, back to an old blog. While I listen to "Head Over Heels" by Tears for Fears. It's a throwback to my freshman and sophomore years of college. I feel at about that place right now, where everything is half-planned and half-strewn about in front of me. Charleston is winding down, and I'm making my plans to leave. Where I'm going next year, God knows. I've picked the places to apply the year following, but next year? The perennial early twenties dilemma.

Not JET. (Nope.) Hopefully Japan. I don't think I will watch Lost In Translation again until I find out whether or not I'm going.

Ways to keep my mind off all of this:
-The Marie-Antoinette Trailer. More like a music video, but probably the most entertaining trailer I've ever seen.
-Remembering how Oprah controls the publishing world. This whole James Frey incident is fucking awesome. Although I'm not working within any longer, I love how it's all turning out. After brilliant public humiliation, will Frey turn back to his former lifestyle?
-Teaching kids to read. Hard as diamonds and more. I don't think I would ever make it as a full time teacher, but 8 hours a week with third graders and books like Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs is consuming my mind. It gives me the ultimate respect for my mother, Sarah, Dolan, and every other teacher in the world. I haven't been this challenged in about a year. It fucking rocks.

And returning:
There are little goals. As I generally work in the afternoon and evening, I have certain things to accomplish before two thirty or four thirty or whenever I have to go in. Today: 1.) dye my hair 2.) fill out a rebate form and walk to the mailbox. They don't always get accomplished.

When your goal is walking to the mailbox (yup), sometimes you feel like the laziest person on earth.

I'm not.

Perhaps I just can't go much farther than the mailbox right now.

That's a stupid excuse.