And that’s not the half of it.
I’m sorry it’s been so long since I’ve put a post up. I’ve had the spring semester start at UNLV and there have been some other developments that have kept me from writing more consistently.
Let’s get the light stuff out of the way so we can wade through the heavy.
This semester’s courses are Journalism 100 and 100D, all the “D” stands for is the discussion group that is the accompanying lab to Journalism 100. The other course I’m taking this semester is World Literature, 231 to be precise. Literature from antiquity and forward from there.
School has been going well for the most part. I’m really trying to figure out what they will give exams on in Journalism 100, because I’m not really seeing any hard facts come out of the course. It’s mainly theory with no common usage so far. The lab I’m even further from impressed with the materials, there’s nothing really of substance and we have to read from sections of NewsU.org.
What was funny to me is that the whole beginning of the semester in my Journalism Discussion Class has been all about ethics. Those who know me will get a big laugh out of that one, because I used to teach ethics in my Photoshop class in There.com. If you’ve not seen my ethics lecture, here, let’s let you have a look. As you can see, it’s a list of things to consider, but rest assured, there was plenty of discussion during class on each and every point, enough to fill an hour and a half of class time. Now, what I taught was on developer ethics in There.com, meaning that I tried to make people understand what good ethics were for a person developing 2D and 3D content for that online world. If you’ve ever sat through my ethics lecture, you’d probably rather pull out your fingernails with hot pincers rather than do anything unethical. But what a 2D or 3D artist does is very different in comparison with a print journalist. The tightrope is a lot tighter when you deal with broadcast or print media, lots more people to offend and many dangers lurking around each corner to ruin your reputation and career. So basically, I’ve had to spend close to 4 hours reading over just the ethics section of NewsU. I have a response due just for that section due on February 3rd.
World Literature, however, is a treat. Lots of fun there. I signed back up to do the tour de force of the ancient world with my favorite english professor Doc T. Oh how I love that man. He is such a phenom when it comes to really bringing those dust covered, thousand year-old texts to life. We started with the Epic of Gilgamesh. Not my favorite. Then we’ve just finished the Odyssey. Ok, I’m going to go on the record and explain my absolute revulsion at the mere mention of the name Odysseus. You’re going to guess, I know you are. Ok, let’s just be Captain Obvious, the reason I hate Odysseus so much is because the Ex had an e-mail account named none other than Noble_Odysseus. Ok, let’s get things straight. There’s nothing really noble about Odysseus in my opinion. The guy is horrible and I’m not referring to my Ex either. Let’s just get the very annoying out of the way…Odysseus, while on his trek home from Troy sleeps with Calypso and Circe and he has no remorse or regret about cheating on his wife Penelope. Ok, get the drift now? Yeah, I hate Odysseus’ guts. Book 11 of the Odyssey is supposed to be the most important because it shows Odysseus having an epiphany about the horrible things he’s done and how it is his rebirth.
Rebirth my ass.
Books 12 and 13 have him battling Scylla and Charybdis. (You know, the two monsters from the Odyssey that are featured in The Police’s 1987 hit “Wrapped Around Your Finger”.) He passes The Sirens and he’s such a tool, he plugs up his crew’s ears then has them lash him to the mast of the ship so he doesn’t throw himself overboard, but he listens to The Sirens anyways. What a greedy jerk IMHO. If I could slap Odysseus in the mouth, I’d have no issue doing so because not only has he been whoring around with Circe and Calypso, but then he’s seduced by The Sirens song as well. The whole reading made me keep going “Odysseus, DUDE, keep the stallion in the corral, pal!” Gods, that guy is just a tool. But, his section is over with and Odysseus, that foul bastard, won’t be darkening my doorstep again.
Ironically, the Ex bought me a copy of the Illiad and the Odyssey for my 30th birthday. That sucker is so dry, all it takes is one page and I’m out like a light. I’m just glad my school textbook has a more palatable and easier to read version in it.
Next week I get to read front to back the play “Macbeth” by William Shakespeare, another fella who couldn’t keep his fly shut. What is it with men who make it their mission in life to be nothing more than a stereotype? Robin Williams said it, “Men have two heads but only enough blood to run one.” Oy veh. I know for some guys, it’s the furthest from the truth, but the sheer number that outnumber those good ones is staggering.
By the way, I’ve turned in 3 papers so far in World Lit and out of a 20 point scale for each, I’ve come back with a 19, 20 and 20. Right on, I love perfect scores.
But enough of my kvetching about The Odyssey. Let’s get on to other things that are very relate-able to what I’ve been studying in class.
My Ex lost his job. Now for some of you, this is no surprise. I personally wondered how long it was going to take the high-ups at the place he worked to get rather annoyed at being treated like they were stupid. The man cut his own throat. I’m sorry, but you don’t tell the 3rd most powerful person at your office that they’re wrong about everything, that they’re stupid and have no idea what they’re talking about. DUDE, any moron who does something like that deserves to get fired, I don’t care how good they are at their job. BUT, that does leave me in a very sticky predicament. My apartment, car, school, everything is tied directly to him. And oh does it pain me to say that. I’ve spent years sending out resumes for what I do and never even got a nibble back, all the while being told, “you don’t even think of taking a front line job again, I don’t want you doing it, so don’t even consider it”…blah blah blah. When after he bailed he told me, “You didn’t even try to see if there were some shifts you could pick up at the local Best Buy”…I sat there with an astonished look on my face going, “weren’t you the guy who said…”
Seems as all my efforts were ignored by the ex because he used me not having work as an excuse to bail out. Oh, I don’t give a shit at this point whether he goes and pisses up the nearest tree or why he’s doing it. His girlfriends parents (supposedly very well off) are giving him a room in their basement while he builds himself back up again. OK, if you’re 46 years old and living in your girlfriend’s parent’s basement, oh that is a very just reward for all the skanky crap he’s pulled. It’s downright humiliating for him. (Insert evil laugh.) I went so far as to ask if her parents knew that he was still married and he said “yes”, somehow I seriously doubt that. The man has no shame. But, it does put me in a very shaky position. I’m still sending out resumes without a nibble (not surprising in today’s economy), and putting my all into school.
So after school yesterday, I went grocery shopping (who knows when the money will run out so I’d like a full pantry), and picked up chicken from which I made Chicken Spaghetti out of (very yummy casserole), filled my cupboards with all sorts of food from luncheon meats to veggies and fresh fruits. Then, I cooked my dinner and while it was in the oven baking, I did my dishes, then lit all the candles in my apartment, relaxing into my big leather sofa to enjoy Iron Man on DVD along with my delicious dinner. When I finished eating, I looked around my clean apartment and took in how wonderful it is now that I live alone and there is no one else here to mess it up (as the ex did so frequently, gods the man was a slob). I’m looking at clean counter tops, clean dishes, enjoying the smells of pineapple-mango candles and wishing days like this could last forever.
But, no wonderful day could be complete, it seems, without bad news. After I finished dinner, washed my plate and put it up, the phone rang. It was my mother.
On the way back from the grocery store, I called my mom to check in, which is the norm these days with the Ex pulling all of his boneheaded shit. So I call and find out that Mom and Dad were getting ready to take Linda to the Oncologist. Ok if you don’t know what an oncologist is, it’s the cancer doctor.
It seems as Nan has a gene that only occurs in 25% of human beings. She’s got some sort of gene that says that she might relapse and have more cancer in her body. So, they said she could wait 5 years and see if anything happens, or she could be aggressive in her treatment and opt for Chemotherapy.
Now, we all know the story of Linda’s back, and the moron doctor who said she had cancer when she was 14. What did I freak out the most about? Linda’s hair. Now, let’s just get it straight right here and now…I want you to see my sister and how beautiful she is:
In the car on the way to Ryan’s wedding:
My mother, after hearing the news and trying in vain to collect herself, she called me last night at 8pm in tears. She’s torn up. Linda, as should be expected, is handling the news as best she can and me, I sat down and even now as I’m writing about it, I can’t help but cry. She’s so wonderful, nothing like this should have happened to her. It’s not fair. But when is life ever fair? So here we are again, back where we started on December 31, staring headlong into another rough patch. When is enough, really enough? How much more can be piled on? I want to know!
But, I’ll be damned if I give up. Linda’s not giving up, she’s plowing headlong into Chemo, she’s got herself up by her bootstraps and she’s determined to beat it. It just breaks my heart to see her go through this.
Anyhow, I’ll keep posting when I can with all the rah-rah that’s going on. It’s real simple. I’ve got to keep moving forward.