Day 2 of My Final Fall Semester

Today has gotten off to a stumbling start.

Everything seemed in order when I woke up this morning. My cat was nuzzled at my ankles as the morning sun was peaking through my crooked blinds. It didn’t feel like a suffocating oven inside my apartment, and I felt well rested. I walked to kitchen, poured myself a cup of acai juice, and rolled out my yoga mat for my morning routine. Everything was fine.

I took a shower and got ready for class. I even put on lipstick. I grabbed my school bag and headed out the door 30 minutes before class began.

Halfway to campus, there was a traffic jam. There was an idiot teenager who had crashed his car on the corner of Hill and Corson, leaving the right hand turn lane backed up ten or fifteen cars. I was the very last car to arrive. Waiting. Finally I was able to make the essential turn to school, and the rest of the route was clear.

As I pulled into the staff parking lot, there was no attendant to wave me in. So, I went right through the open gate. As soon I was driving through the parking lot, the “security vehicle”, a shitty, run down golf cart began to follow me. Worried that I would be questioned why I was looking for a parking spot in the faculty lot, I began to speed up. I lost the weasel, and found a spot in the back corner of the underground lot. Crisis #1, averted.

I got out of the car and began walking swiftly to class, since the traffic jam and the security aversion took much time out of my morning commute. As I entered the building that my class was located in, I passed by a female English professor that I had come in contact with last semester at an English Majors seminar. I simply smiled at her politely, as anyone should who is trying to possibly fill her shoes one day. What I got in return was an unwarranted scowl and complete avoidance. Perplexed by her reaction to my courteous gesture, I decided to take an indifferent approach and simply brush it off. I didn’t want my day to continue with a hostile disposition. No matter how hard I would try, this task proved to be a difficult one.

I stepped foot into my first class of the day. I took a seat, got out my notebook and pens, opened my textbook to the appropriate page, and waited for the professor to begin his lecture. The topic of the day: idolatry. Feeling confident in said subject, I decided to answer the professors first question quickly. With sympathy, the professor explained why my response was wrong. Shot down once again. At least time there was some empathy involved.

The class continued, and the lecture began to falter. As the professor continually stumbled upon his words, I caught myself checking my watch over and over again. The concepts he was trying to convey became more and more convoluted with “um”s and “ah”s. My interest was feigning as I was trying so hard to keep it from doing so. Finally, the time came for the class to end. I collected all of my things that I was so eager to bring out at the beginning of class, and stuffed them quickly into my bag. I left the classroom feeling blank.

When I opened the door to leave the building the heat from outside hit me like a ton of bricks. Like a ton of bricks on fire. I felt the sweat instantly forming on my brow as I headed to get some iced tea from the coffee shop across the street from campus. The coffee shop I used to work at. Seeing all the overly stressed baristas behind the counter (my former colleagues) it saddened me in a way. Poor souls having to fight an ever-growing line of ignorant, caffeine hungry students. I don’t miss it.

I got my tea, and waved goodbye. I received no response from anyone behind the counter. “It’s okay, they’re busy,” I thought. I left the coffee shop, still feeling blank.

With the heat bearing down on my face, I needed to get to the school library as quickly as possible. Upon arriving, feeling a sense of relief as the air conditioning took hold of my senses, I saw one of my old coworkers from the school’s writing center. The place I had just gotten fired from a week prior. I walked up to him and said hello. He replied with a smile that soon turned crooked as he wasn’t aware of the boss’s decision to let me go. That type of conversation is inevitably awkward. I tried the best I could to make the remainder of our time together light hearted. I offered to buy us lunch sometime, and he hesitantly accepted. If such a thing will ever occur is completely up to the gods of coincidence. Him and I will make no extra effort to make such an event actually happen. With my mind in a twisted, rather dejected place, I bid farewell to my former coworker, and headed up the library stairs.

So, here I am now. Sitting next to the window in the silent study portion of the library, typing out this entry entirely on my cell phone. Students around me are probably asking themselves, “what the fuck kind of text message takes that long?”, or “get a computer, idiot.”

It’s only 2:30 in the afternoon. I sure hope this day turns around.


midnight car stereo

The buzz of a midnight car stereo rattles my walls.  The obstreperous bass and piercing treble force open my heavy eyelids.  

A teenage charlatan behind the wheel of a 1995 Honda Civic.  With one hand in his pocket, and the other gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, he waits.  He waits at the stoplight outside of my window.  Turning up his music louder, my windows begin to tremble in their weathered panes.  

Drowned out excitement within plangent clamor. 

The young man was on his way to screw his girlfriend.  

I roll over and press the pillow tightly over my head as the buzz slowly fades.






Peregrination Pt. 2

“Alive,” she thought as she began her slow walk up the sidewalk.  Her knees grinding in her skin, bone against bone, from years of lonesome wandering.  

She had accepted the world’s view of her.  As she looked down upon the dried puke that stained her tee shirt, she knew the disgraceful presumptions were true.  She had thrown everything away for a midnight score and a bottle of whisky.  Years of her life lost in a memory unremembered.  The tears streaming down her face were hardly felt through her rough, exhausted skin.  

She headed towards the highway offramp, wiping the useless tears from her cheeks.  “I have to make a few dollars,” she thought, “just enough to get fixed.”

Just before her knees began to buckle, she arrived at the offramp.  Digging through her bag of belongings, she was able to find her cardboard sign.  It didn’t say anything substantial.  It brought forth nothing religious and nothing really to bring pity upon herself.  The pity came rushing over people like a goddamn waterfall when they were courageous enough to look into her eyes.  The brightest blue anyone could ever imagine, yet they made you feel so dark.  Those eyes made the weight of the world crash upon your shoulders so quickly you would think your spine was shattered into a thousand pieces.  One glance from her, and your wallet was empty. Involuntarily, you would find yourself reaching into your pocket and handing her the last dime you had. As your hand touched her filthy palm in the exchange, she would show no emotion.  Nothing.  You just saw those icy blue eyes reflecting to the back of your skull.  

She stood at the corner with a sign that read, “Anything, please.”  


Those eyes.         



This song will always be great. Despite its past negative connotations in my life, I tend to continually return to this track in amazement. I am probably exposing my lack of current music knowledge by posting such an old song, but who can compete with something such as this?