Whither he goest: RIP Papa

I haven't written in a while. A lot has happened. I did turn in that chapter skeleton, which needs a lot of work, but which was at least turned in with good faith...

A week later, my father, who took suddenly ill, died unexpectedly. He had been hospitalized with his ailments. I was sick, with a high fever, and so I went home early. I told my Dad that I would see him tommorow & that I loved him. He said, "You too." He seemed to be in stable condition, so we all left the hospital. A little after 2 AM, when we were all asleep, the hospital called to say that Dad had died. I have been in a very odd state ever since then inasmuch as I would have remained, even though I was sick, had I had any inkling of the imminence of his passing. Some moments seem as they ever were, but others strike me and leave me dumbstruck, numb, or just plain despondent.

Grief is a very odd process--one which I had not had to experience too much in my life. Until my Gran passed away in 2001, I had been sheltered from this sort of thing. However, losing my beloved grandmother 7 years ago did not steel me for the sheer shock of losing my father.

Like many men, I have had a most...interesting relationship with my father. Like most queer men, I have had a most...complicated and ambivalent relationship with my father. I love him so much. He could drive me far crazier than anyone else who tread this earth. He built me up & tore me up in so many different ways. He embarrassed me. I was so proud of him. He did wonderful things for me. He did some nasty things to me. Nonetheless, I LOVE my Daddy. I will miss my Daddy. I pray that his soul finds Paradise.

My father was born in a hick place in a hick time. He endured unimaginable things as a Marine in WWII and Korea. He survived 5 beach invasions. He was awarded 2 Purple Hearts. He met my Mom and waited for her to finish school, which was unheard of when they met in 1949. He changed jobs rather than make her leave her school, job, & family. A hyper-macho man in the 1950's South did this? I actually did not know these aspects until after he died. He kept so much of himself to himself. Why was I so robbed of this while he was alive? Granted, I kept much of myself to myself while he was alive in the hopes of shielding him ("Dad, do you want to hear about my boyfriend?"), so I guess I can't complain or condemn too much.

So, I am the selfish one, left behind, missing my Dad & still trying to process what he means to me, what I do now, how to honor him while still remembering his flawed, human self. I'm not yet in a good place about this, but I'm working on it. Not only my family have been helpful, but so has my family of friends, for whom I am grateful.

I love you, Papa!

I turned in a part of that dissertation chapter that was driving me frackin' nuts. It is not complete, bu it is a demonstartion that I am working on the dang-blasted thing. It will also provide me with a bit more of a road map for the next parts of that chapter (in addition to the parts that need mending as it is). I can also move on to another chapter which should flow out much more quickly and completely. That one could be quite lengthy and productive as well, so we shall see. Keep your fingers, toes, eye, whatever, crossed! :)

telos vs. eschaton

I am still struggling with that stupid dissertation. I am still working on it, but I allow myself to get distracted from it very easily. I have had other things going on, but honestly! I do want to finish this beast, but the Cunctator-like delays I keep getting myself into have left me wondering. Finishing this thing would be an end. What kind of end would it be? What do I want it to end? This is the conundrum. I may like some odd, open-ended narratives in my favorite stories and films, but do I like things so neatly tied up and completed in life? How are they tying up--coming together to weave a tapestry that I can look back on or a noose around my neck? I honestly am not sure what I feel. I have had some wonderful experiencecs since I came to Vandy. I have had some gut-wrenching crap. Granted, this is normal and happens to everyone, but I am still a little stuck, stagnanting and wondering why I am having so much trouble completing this final step. I know that I can move on; do I not want to move on? I do like the people here, & I am used to the area. But couldn't I find wondrous new things? I guess it's part of my nature as a bit of a walking contradiction. The social homebody. The courteous bitch. The ambidextrous dyslexic. The magpie who will be distracted by the next shiny thing but who likes consistency. The guy who finds great comfort in having a set routine but loves new challenges. The guy who plans out his spontaneous impulses. I know how this sounds. You say I'm crazy...I got your crazy! (Thanks Britney!) I guess this is also due in part to the fact that my most recent birthday (Tuesday) was one of those dreadful milestone ones and I am not where/as I would like to be. *remembers Buffy's "cookie dough" speech to Angel in the last episode* Then, again, if I get this big thing done, I still won't feel complete. But I don't see getting the other parts of mi vida loca complete without this one. I guess it's off to work...and then TrashMasters. ;) ¡Arriba el telón!

Aqui e agora

Faz tempo gente. Tô gostando demais dos novos amigos ótimos que conheci aqui. Adoro-os muito. Ainda assim, tenho já que fazer muito mais trabalho nos capítulos da tese. Espero que eu possa entregar um na próxima semana e outro antes das férias de Natal. Vou voltar para Nashville no janeiro também porque já fiz tanto que eu sei que não faria se eu estivesse na casa dos pais, seja o que for a situação com eles. De vez em quando acho que é lastimável. Outras vezes não penso assim. Que tolice... Não obstante, tenho trabalho que tenho que fazer, o qual não posso fazer BEM fora daqui.

Agora tô metido não somente na tese senão também num projeto de fazer um exame novo para uma avaliação da capacidade dos alunos alunos do português aqui falarem a língua. Sempre o problema é que eles falam o portanhol se não falam puramente o espanhol, o que não dá por nada, viu. É difícil procurar boas imagens e outras coisas para que o exame não seja só uma chateação nem para os alunos nem para os professores. Vou ter que fazer até mais com tudo isso então.

Ofereço uma benção e agradecimentos aos novos amigos aqui. Muitos abraços para todos os novos e os mais velhos também!

Congrats!!! :)

Somebody just had a beautiful baby girl named Audrey! Both mother & daughter & beautiful! (Poppa's not bad, either, but I haven't met him yet & don't need to scare him.) NEWAZ, my heartiest congratulations to yet another person whom I met when she was a freshman in college & now is a married parent! God, I feel so old! Much love to Angie & her little family! Best wishes always! :)

Voltando à tese…

Prezados! Escrevo de novo no meu amado português para conseguir até mais prática. Vou ter que trabalhar muito hoje e amanhã numa tentativa de acabar com um capítulo da tese. Finalmente soube o que é que é o meu problema de demorar tanto com este capítulo, embora eu ainda goste demais do assunto dele. Eis que eu não adiciono nada de mim entre a rede que tricoto das fontes da pesquisa. Simplesmente faço uma edição das MUITAS leituras que já fiz. Por isso, não mexe com nenhum sentido de criatividade própria neste capítulo. Por isso, escrevê-lo é cacete para chuchu! Pois é que sei que não posso deixar do capítulo a menos que eu dê a aparência de escrever à toa. Preciso de uma base sociológica e teórica. Constrói-se a tese da base ao ápice, né?

Dating caveats 101

1. Be aware of pick-up lines, especially if you have been living with two 80-year olds for 2 years and can no longer understand how people with a libido talk.

2. Be aware of pick-up lines that are more corny than either the whole state of Iowa or Nancy Kerrigan's Disney parade.

3. Be a little bolstered that someone would want to use such corny pick-up lines on you.

4. Nashville hotel mini-bars paid for by a software development company in Atlanta often contain many delicious and inhibition-busting agents.

5. Just because his father is a Lutheran minister, stop singing Dusty Springfield, at least quite so much.

6. Don't give your cell number to someone who will give you a booty call from 400 miles away.

7. Be just a little happy and/or smug that you got a booty call, though.

8. Don't give your cell number to someone who will later in the week give you a drunken call filled with racist rants that make you feel really fucking stupid and ashamed.

9. Make sure that said person's private ringtone is not set to Milkshake by Kelis so that people around you don't get a good giggle regardless.

10. Don't harp on it; move along; let something better happen. *sigh*

Cubs lose! Holy cow!!

That was a surprise. NOT!

Some huskers are more than likely annoyed by this development, but I hope it's at least not a shocker.