so you rejected it, therefore.

we graduated last night. it was my st. ignatius class again, i don't know why it's always those assholes. they'll haunt me forever. at least i wasn't stuck in class again. i've been in more mature situations lately, and once, i was even their teacher. some of the girls were crying, but i knew it was just another dumb dream i'd wake from. lucid dreaming, i think it's called. there was a sac bee reporter in the crowd, though, and i approached her. she told me she knew all about my blog, and was looking to hire me as a regular contributor to the paper. "your mom sent me an outline," she said. "oh yeah?" "yeah, i read all about your composting and walking around neighborhoods. we're really excited to have a segment dedicated to highlighting the ordinary things ordinary people do." i was stoked. but then i woke up.

i met with dr. s on saturday morning, and she had her dog in the backseat. the dog stank. dr. s had braided/dreadlocked her hair, and she wore these purple sunglasses. she told me that she was really "touched" by the email i wrote her, the one where i said i was afraid to contact her, since she had written me such a glorifying reccomendation for that teaching gig, and i quit after a week. she told me i should never hesitate to contact her, and that people "do stuff like that all the time." she then went on to say that people are meant to do what they love. she said that some cashiers are happy being cashiers and janitors are happy being janitors. "scripture says the same thing," she said. "romans 12."

it didn't sit with me well. still, we continued walking. by the time we reached the park, we realized there was a "pumpkin push," which was essentially a costumed marathon. "we probably should've planned this out better," she said. no problem. we just kept walking while her dog sniffed stuff and peed on things. when the runners finally caught up with us, we moved over to the dirt path so they could have room to run. i wanted to say, "we're always in the margins, huh, dr. s?" but i didn't. i didn't feel comfortable enough yet that she would get my bizarre sense of humor.

she started telling me about dr. w, even though i didn't care about dr. w, since i had never taken any of her classes. dr. w had twins, and named them byron and william. one was born naturally, the other by c-section. dr. w for some reason or other couldn't have any anaesthesia, so she felt the cut. "she said she now knows what martyrdom feels like," dr. s said. "jesus," i said. some runners passed, and dr. s walked ahead of me. i asked about another professor i had. "do you see much of him?" i asked. she said no, and seemed put off by my asking. "let me finish telling you about dr. w," she said. it occurred to me that dr. s is a very focused woman, and that's probably how she got to where she is today, a tenured professor at a premier catholic school in the northwest.

we stopped by the water so her dog could get a drink. she started telling me about some retreat/spa she went to in taos. she told me about how the workshop director wanted them to "write naked," but that writing naked didn't mean taking their clothes off. the director wanted them to write without any social constructs, whatever that meant. dr. s said, "but i told the writer i'm an academic writer. i stick to the mla format, and i have to do my research first. i can't write naked." as the story unfolds, it turns out dr. s was able to write naked. she told me about her essay on jane eyre, and something about how it occurred to her that bronte wrote in epistlary form. every chapter begins with "dear reader."

dr. s then told me about how this gave her an epiphany, that bronte was writing about herself, so that she could transform herself into the new woman she hoped to become. "just as gloria watkins had to write about her tumultous past in order to become bell hooks." apparently, foucault had also written something else. i felt uncomfortable. i had to nod along like i understood, or that i was interested. suddenly, i had my own epiphany. i was stuck in class again. i thought things would be different this time around, but i was still intimidated by her namedropping writers i haven't yet read, and styles of writing i still haven't fully understood. i have to admit, as a college graduate with a degree in english, i still don't know mla format.

on sunday morning, i attended ross' brunch/talent show at his co-op. i made broccoli and tofu stir-fry. some of the talent show acts were really good. one girl sang a piece of an opera, and another girl sang a funny song on the guitar. others were just bizarre and unnecessary. one old man made us chant, "how i love you, how i love you," while another dressed up as dr. seuss' thing #1 and did an impromptu dance to some 80's song. i liked the idea, though, this thought that we were building community. it's just too bad i'll probably never see these people again.

maybe i'll start writing letters to my old classmates. let them know how i've turned out, if they're at all interested.

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