Wednesday, February 26th, 2003 - Painkiller cocktailsOne thing about ranting these days is that Nick might come along and do it better. I love Nick; he is my non-fiction god. He manages to come up with something new and brilliant to say about an old topic. Go read and become enlightened.I've been rather fuzzy the past few days. The dose of Vicodin I took on Sunday seems to be slow in leaving my system, and I find it difficult to read. It's alarming enough to sit down to some Jeffrey Ford and have it make no sense, but when Hellblazer becomes a challenge to read, I get a little freaked out. Today, my mind seems clearer, and I'm actually getting a few things done, but I'm still not 100% and it's worrisome. Even acid doesn't last this long, man. I'm seriously looking into how I can start teaching next fall if the whole grad school thing falls through. The pain in my neck/ shoulders/ upper back is so bad that I was awake for several hours in the middle of the night trying to stretch that part of my body to relieve the pain. I just can't keep working on the computer for my dayjob, and the only thing I can think of that wouldn't involve this (that I'd like to do) is teaching. My options are limited, especially with the @()$#*^ Bush administration's lies and false promises resulting in so many budget cuts. I could apply to the SFSU teacher certification program (deadline isn't until May 15th, so I'd have time to apply if I don't get into a Creative Writing MFA), but the problem there is that we're really not wanting to stay in the very pricey Bay Area much longer. Oregon is calling to us, all green and slower-paced and cheaper . . . I think the CBEST (which I passed a year and a half ago) is good for Oregon, too, so maybe I could survive on substitute teaching? We'll have to see. By the way, for the record, I've applied to the Creative Writing MFA's at the following schools:
La la, I'm all over the place here, I know. Weird mood. Need more sleep. Have a dinner party to go to tonight which might be fun, but I'm hurting, so it's hard to say how I'll feel. Hard to be enthusiastic while in pain, you know? This is one of those entries that make people think I'm a negative person, isn't it? Meh. Tim and I toured the condos that they just built in our neighborhood. Fun to look at the yuppies' expressions as they take in the 'hood we live in. The fancy (and illogically laid-out) 3-bedroom condo overlooks the neighbor's trash heap/ backyard and has a lovely view of 580 (which blocks the Bay Views that they falsely advertise). The street is just not as gentrified as the developers had hoped, I'm afraid; I'll be surprised if they get the $400,000 or so they're asking for them (and if they do, I'll know which of my neighbors are the most gullible). I was very amused at the guy showing the place, who took one look at me and Tim and told us that "people in your age group are usually looking for fix-ups; this is new construction. Feel free to look around, though." Tim later told me that he thinks people see me with him and move my estimated age down. Perhaps. I don't look 30, but I act it. I guess we both look poor, though. I was going to tell you about the strange things I've seen lately: the woman with blood pouring out of her face in front of the Safeway, the cop car that ran into the decontamination truck in front of work, the truck doing high-speed donuts at the end of our street that took off at full speed, almost hit me, then took the corner onto Telegraph on two wheels (I've never seen a car drive like that in real life before, and it was mesmerizing; I guess it's a "thing" that Oakland teenagers have been doing lately; great), how shiny things are when you're on Vicodin (and how I tended to say profound things such as "Look at the shiny fat man." and "She has hair."), the conversation I had with a nice man while walking to work that sounded true, but also just like it was out of a Sopranos episode . . . but I won't. heh. I'm going to sign off now, post this, and take some ibuprofen. It's not Vicodin, but it helps. Random links of interest:
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