Author: admin

I was the best of times, it was the worst of times… Well, it was mostly the worst of all time. I failed at fantasy at such a horrific level that I cannot imagine doing this badly again. I just didn’t know what to do. If I had a choice between two players I chose the wrong one every single time. There were 8 weeks where my bench outscored my starters. All of this led to me looking forward to the toilet seat award and a first pick in next year’s draft. What will I do with that pick? I don’t actually know yet. It is going to require some legitimate research, which is a thing I used to do but stopped. Like my wins stopped. Such is life and fantasy football.

Some Thoughts:

1. Yeah, not a lot to say about the sport tonight. I don’t really considered fantasy a sport. It is a semi-complex gambling scenario. This is all.
2. Not a lot to say about a whole lot. I’m drained and not much for the words. It has been a long semester loaded with complaints and students aching to get over. I’m tired of it. Glad to be done with classes (save for finals)…

Taking L’s this week.

Got in a fender bender with a 16 yr old in a BMW. Happened in a private parking lot and, as blame cannot be proven, we both walked away needing to cover our own repairs. Except I cannot cover repairs. I’m not in that income bracket at the moment. Heck, I’m trying desperately to get to the point where I can afford (and have the time to) change my oil. Add to that a deadline that is ringing loudly in my ears as I stare at an incomplete draft. I don’t know, but this week seems kinda odd.

I’m turning back, not to a particular blog, but a time frame where I was a little closer to having my stuff together. I was living in the big house in Maricopa, a suburb of Phoenix. half the week I had my kids and it was a rattling mess of a situation where I was struggling with being a single dad. Yet one day a week I had peace. I would read my Thich Nhat Hanh and fall into a rhythm of understanding–both of where I am in life and where I was trying to go. I have lost sight of that feeling because of the bustle, because of the mood of this new space and the emptiness of forward motion mixed in with an undeniable hurriedness at times.

“We will be more successful in all our endeavors if we can let go of the habit of running all the time, and take little pauses to relax and re-center ourselves” Thich Nhat Hanh writes. Yet where are my pauses? I am forever rushing and forever holding on to things–like the fender bender last night. Such things plague my dreams, leading to situations that haunt me. Last night I dreamt of my birth father and we argued about my station and action in life and all of my failures and he tried to give me advice, but I cannot remember what he said–just the anger and opposition of the moment. Thich Nhat Hanh writes, “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything – anger, anxiety, or possessions – we cannot be free.” I need to find that freedom and release, and I’ve struggled with this time and again. This is why I cast back to that time and those moments where I found a sense of peace and freedom. I long for that. I long for the patience I once revered.

I’m sitting in the office, which has an outside door–double doors actually–one of which is open to the cold morning air. My hoodie is on and up over my head as I type and reflect on this new day. My hands, cold and arthritic, feel like dry reeds smacking at the keys. I’m not that old, but I’m past the midway point of life and constantly surrounded by people 30 years younger than me, so I feel old. I feel it so much that when I am with other writers my age I am like, what are these people? where do they come from? what is this world I find myself in??? I believe that contrast is why I never feel quite settled outside the singular shell of my relationship. I’ve been thinking about that unsettledness for sometime now. I consider it when I hear talk of friendskivings and white elephant parties. I consider it when people discuss taking cruises and traveling to far destinations with a click of friends. I don’t live in that world. I live in an isolated space of my own making in which I do those things (travel, explore, see new things, go out) but do it in such an insular fashion that my inputs–my understanding of the world from others–comes almost mainly from the students I teach, the shows I watch, and the conversations I overhear in public.

In short, I need to get out more.

Not a lot more, mind you. I’m extremely happy in my shell. However, in terms of experiencing new ideas, I fall terribly short. I fear this is part of the problems I am experiencing in so far as creativity. Garbage in, Garbage out is a functional flaw, but Garbage is better than nothing at all. I have long said that I need better inputs, yet as with the exercise and diet, I’ve done practically nothing to fix it. I have done as I have done with most of my life, which is lay back and let it happen. In order to improve in life you (read: I) need to be active in creating the change you seek. I’ve not done this much, and nearing 50 yrs of life, I’m terribly out of practice. Fortunately life has provided me a slew of opportunities for betterment. I am, if nothing else, one lucky SOB. I just need to honor that luck with action.

Some Thoughts:

1. I am still a terrible typist. I could go dark and start training to be better. I suppose the fumbling around I do is just that, but it does suck to make som many errors when I don’t directly stare at the keys (and sometimes even when I do).
2. Close to ten here, but I did lose track of time. I was in a bit of a zone, just writing away. That is a good sign. I crave those anymore…

Occasionally, the best day of writing is the one where you hardly write anything down. Instead you gather your thoughts and clear the cobwebs from your creativity, remembering what sort of writer you are and intend to be. I was able to spend the day chilling out and just thinking about the work I am doing. It was needed and healthy and now I feel like I have a few really good ideas and a direction I can head in now as I work through this last week of drafting. I’m excited to move forward with the project and take this next big step. Feels good to be on one again.

Some Thoughts:

1. Well, fantasy didn’t work out. I am all but eliminated from both league playoffs. Such is life… and fantasy.

Every morning I start my day by playing having coffee with the lady and then wandering off to play a video game. I like it. It makes me feel like I start by spending time with her and then getting some me time in. I don’t know that it is going to last. The thing about being in a relationship is you have to find compromise. This may be in the order of operations or the operations themselves. As I move through life and encounter more people and learn who it is I do and don’t want to spend time with, I also learn how I do and don’t want to spend my time. For me that time usage comes down to a small list of issues and factors.

To begin, I don’t want to spend my time drowning in hate, insecurity, or any of the myriad issues or feelings associated with that. This means that I need to be happy for the most part and I need the people around me to be happy for the most part. What I am learning is that for most of the most important people in my life, being happy means the day needs to start with action. Me sitting around and gaming is not action. Me going to the office to write is not action. What is action is taking care of the chores and following up on household projects–physical jobs that show results. When that becomes the daily focus, then the day goes well. The other stuff–the gaming and writing and any other solitary habits–are better left to later in the day when nobody is around or left to directly after the physical is tended.

There are a couple of ways to look at this. I used to look at it as, ‘anything that matters to me and reflects my way needs to be sidelined for everyone else’. That isn’t reality. Instead the reality is compromise. As I stated at the top, you have to find compromise. There is space for me to be me and to sit and game and do stuff that people outside of me really don’t care about. There is just less of it. In terms of gaming, I need to set aside time outside of the hours where there are expectations upon me. In terms of writing, I do need to adjust to not writing whenever I choose to, but having a specific schedule that is respectful of compromise and how others in my life are operating.

I often discuss how powerful it can be to be surrounded by makers. I recently realized that it has been 20 years since I graduated from college with my MA and was surrounded by a solid group of makers. In reality, it feels like my own creativity has slowly petered out over the last 20 years as if all the fueling up I did back then has finally run dry. However, I still find inspiration every day. I wish I could be like Jelle, creating beautiful and thrilling stories about marbles in what has become for me the purest form of sport possible.

I need to develop a plan to restore that sense of creative energy. It starts with giving myself space to relax and recharge, but it is also about what I ingest. Garbage in, Garbage out is a long time philosophy of this blog and by default, my life. As I watch the final race of Jelle’s Marble Runs Marbula 1 season 4 I recognize that creativity and story can be found anywhere and in anything. I need to get out of this rut of a daily life and move back towards a life and space where creativity and wonder live at the core.

Is it about leaving where I am? Maybe. Unfortunately, that is not an immediate solution. An immediate solution would be to be more engaged in how I shape my day and what I allow to enter my mindspace. Over the last week I’ve been drowning in what can only be described as assholery. I let those people rent space in my head and that set me back. I need to cut that out of my life. I need to go back to daily readings of positive material, exposing myself to something new and creative each day, trying new things, and refocusing on the physical side, because the mind often goes as the body goes. Garbage in, Garbage out is not always just about the material you mentally consume.

Let’s stop for a minute to reflect on the end of November. That means the end of NanoWrimo. That means this month of creativity is at an end. How’d I do? not o good. I have been on the shelf so to speak for a week. I lost momentum way before that, but only in the last week have I completely shut it down to get this machine back on the road properly. Tomorrow is that rev up. I have a seven day run planned that ought to get me moved forward significantly on a major project.

So what does that mean for me/about me? It means I was wiped. It means I was overwhelmed and felt the creativity turning to crap. I stopped finding fresh new ideas and delved into the simplest and suckiest. Nothing good popped. So I stopped. Now I think that sort of reload is likely a good thing. King says write every day. I do that but not the kind of volume he’s talking about. I write ten minutes and get the lead out. That is nowhere near enough either.

Some Thoughts:

1. Dallas feels like a fraud all of a sudden. Turns out they haven’t beaten a team with a winning record all season. They’re playing the Seahawks now and it is indeed a dogfight. They might win, but it won’t be a blowout or anything resembling a championship offense… defense though… That bland dude can ball.

The season is over. Heck, the ‘seasons’ may be over. I lost in both leagues despite moments where I thought I could win in both. The loss in the money league dropped me to 8^th. Only the top six make the playoffs, which begin week 16. In the beach born league the playoffs begin week 15, which means, at 2-10, I am officially out. That is a hard fail for the season. Again only the top 6 make it and I am hard 8.

I thought I would do better this year. I thought I would do significant research once the season got closer, but as it did, I did little but purchase one magazine that I never actually opened until post draft. I didn’t put in the work and the results are telling. Sure, injuries could’ve compounded the situation, but they did not. I just sold the bag. Kinda like the Giants for the first two months of football. They’ve won 4 in recent weeks, and that may be enough to shift the conversation from ‘let’s draft a new QB’ to ‘Let’s get some linemen!’ where it belongs. I don’t think Jones is the guy anymore. I was on the fence and fell right off when I realized how timid he (or the playcalling) is in terms of playing to the team strengths of taking shots downfield. Don’t even get me started on that TE room.

Unlike the Jets, there is no aging hero waiting in the wings to make it all okay. These guys are rebuilding. They may need to rebuild with a new playcaller on offense or at least straighten things out between Daboll and Kafka. There’s a lot in the news about the Wink tension, but that D is cooking. What isn’t cooking is the O. They’ve yet to go full Deion and pull people, but who knows what is coming down the pipe…

Some Thoughts:

1. Jelle’s Marble Run is still the purest form of sport. I can’t even get mad when my Rasberry Racers lose. I mean, well I DO get mad but there is no one to blame but circumstance. Better luck next season.. unless they can score big in these next two events.

Once upon a time I worked at a college hours from home and far away from the main pulse of the city. I cared. I cared about the students. I cared about my co-workers. I cared about the perception of me. That last bit is what got me in so much trouble. I spent a long time caring about what people thought of me. I was shocked, disheartened, and to be honest, angered and nearly destroyed by outside impressions of me that fell short of reality. For example, I once spent time fending off a discrimination charge because an LGBTQ co-worker with a hard grudge decided to bring charges against me (with no evidence, which is apparently okay) while I was the faculty co-advisor of the LGBTQ club. I was mad enough at the attempt that it played a large role in my leaving that place. Save for one specific outcome, leaving was in fact most regrettable–as I was told it would be by my then advisor.

Regardless, I found a home in my new job and got a little better about caring less about what people thought about me. Well, I thought I did. Yesterday I faced a tough emotional challenge when I learned that perceptions of me were out there both in my work and personal lives that were contrary to reality. The personal stuff is promoted by the ex-wife, which is to be expected. Someone who once memorably said, “I wish I wasn’t married to you so I could take advantage of you.” is going to be awful enough to make said attempt on anyone. What hackled me there was twofold: 1. She has her family convinced that I am selfish and do the bare minimum for my kids, which is laughable. 2. She is promoting these lies to my kids, which is dangerous given the relationship that some of them have with her. The other shoe to drop was a faculty member questioning my qualification to teach creative writing. That is as absurd as the selfish bare minimum dad stuff. However, the confluence of such things during a time where I feel overwhelmed was just too much.

I need to not care about what people think. I need to focus on what I think. That is where the truth of self comes from.

Part of my work as a professor is to observe other professors teaching in the dual enrollment environment. I’m often assigned locations on the fringes of the sprawl where people have moved to create/recreate idealized versions of what they think utopia should look like. In fact, on the way to the school today I saw a personalized license plate that read ‘Lvnnoz’. The thought that some dusty part of Arizona on the edge of a recently opened freeway built in the shadow of a retired military base could be Oz is, well, silly. That being said, that is being done.

What I notice most about these makeshift Oz’s are the homogeneity of the space (mostly white with a smattering of Asian) and the prevalence of corporate run ‘public’ schools. I’m in one such school as I speak, though it is of a smaller corporate footprint than most. Within that are high-standards built around structures that favor a particular type of teaching and learning meant to simulate AP standards in all classes. In other words, these students are treated like they are in specialized high schools, and every high school is treated like a specialized high school when none really really are.

As I watch I am watched. These students are curious about me—a black man sent in to observe them and the environment they’ve had created and have created for themselves in a false utopia at the edge of the desert. I am, as an observer, an intruder and that makes them curious. I’m curious. How these lives are so different than my own only 10 miles away is interesting. It reminds me of New York in a way, where the differences are far more condensed, but also far more disparate. Here, we are dancing through the many different shades of middle class and going nowhere.

Some Thoughts:

1. Honestly, just being outside of the normal drone of my daily space was so invigorating that, as you can see, even the blog is impacted in a positive way. Dang. I need to get out more…
2.