ok. I have spent the last couple weeks drowning in a sea of student prose, dutifully grading exams and research papers. I have shed tears, I have cursed my fate, I have smoked many cigarettes, and I have stared down the existential dread that comes with reading the first sentence of a ten page paper so bad that it makes me despair for western civilization. An exaggeration? If you only knew my friends. But the worst, I think, is over. For me anyway; things aren't looking so good for America's future.
I am at work, it is a beautiful day, and this is the first chance I've had in many days to take a deep breath and reflect a little. Indulge me if you will while I figure out where the forty-five dollars I had last night actually went.
5 bucks (four and change but I'm rounding up): at the Quick Trip for smokes and Iced Tea. 40 left.
7 bucks: Target on socks and a pretzel. I actually went to get a bookcase but decided I didn't feel like carrying it because my lower back was really sore from doing deadlifts earlier in the day. I need a new bookcase because my roomie is moving out and has moved his books from the living room, so I now have space for one and can get rid of the piles of books that clutter every available surface in my room. The socks were on sale and the pretzel was cooked in the microwave and coated in so much salt that I felt dehydrated for quite some time. 33 left.
3.50: High Life and a tip at the Earl. Went down fast after that pretzel. 30 left (rounding again).
5 bucks: given to Big Country for the three Black Labels (buck and a half a pop) he put on his tab while we played pool at the Gravity. I shot quite well once I had the requisite amount of beer in me. There is a golden window of opportunity for optimum pool playing somewhere between two and five beers. I almost ran the table at one point. Our playing was interrupted by the arrival of two intoxicated yuppie couples. One couple was quite friendly. She was drunk, he was doing blow in the corner. They had a night off from their two little boys. I beat her at pool and we went on our way. 25 left.
8 bucks: a round of High Life for me and Big Country with tip at the Flat Iron. A nice time chatting with Dave the owner, and Wade, the least gay gay bartender in Atlanta. 17 left.
5 bucks: beer and a tip back at the Earl, the last stop of the evening. Left at two a.m. with one cigarette remaining. 12 left.
8 bucks: lunch today on the way to work. When did lunch get so expensive in Atlanta? 4 left. And the mystery solved. I was convinced that I'd managed to lose some money somewhere last night, but no. All that cheap bear adds up. Paid for six, someone bought me one. 7 beers and a pack of Marlboro's: the cost of unwinding from two weeks of grading.
What else have I been up to since last I blogged?
A few dreams of note:
1) after confrontation with angry street person who pulls a very realistic looking BB gun on me, I am forced to move into a new apartment that is already home to a very thirsty monkey.
2) enter a punk-alternative store in a mall (I had read the day before that such things now exist) and find a curious small cast Iron skeleton in a top hat and overcoat thing. It reminds me of Dooley, the Emory mascot. Then I remember that I have to wake up and finish grading papers. I immediately wake up and realize the skeleton referred both to the aforementioned existential dread that comes with academia, and my desire to sleep forever/death wish.
3) at a truck stop in some rural part of the south, I get off the bus I am on and start looking at hats. They have hats with extremely obscure regional references that pertain to my friends. I have to look at these hats and choose some to buy for my friends. But I have inadvertently spent too long looking at them and realize the bus is leaving without me. Bunni and Sherri are on the bus and now I will not get to New Orleans with them. I must find some way to get to New Orleans, and my worry attracts a parasitical grifter who claims to want to help me but is clearly trying to exploit me for some nefarious purpose.
Finished reading a novel called the Dante Club. A mystery/serial killer novel with a literary historical setting. Prominent 19th century literary figures in Boston try to solve a series of murders based on Dante's inferno. To the extent that it draws on the historical and literary stuff, it's kind of interesting, but in the end it comes off feeling like a heavy-handed Hollywood idea for a movie: what if we crossed Seven with the post-civil war literary scene in Boston? Serial killer stuff for people who fancy themselves too smart for it. Of course it is the author's first novel, and I will keep an eye on his future books.
Finally, some stuff going on in the world: In Russia a popular uprising against the "Barbification" of the world. And nearby, in the Ukraine, the world's tallest man is having a tough time of it. Take a look at the pictures; he really is a sad case.
