The End Draweth Nigh

Next week Thursday is the last day of winter quarter classes. Five minutes ago I turned in my penultimate assignment of the quarter. The final assignment is due two weeks from tomorrow. I have no finals. Spring quarter doesn't start until March 26th. I love the quarter system.

A thrill rushes through me at the thought of free time and all I can do with it--the books I can read, the audiobooks I can finally transfer onto my MP3 player, the loose ends in my music library's organization I can finally tie up, the brilliant works of staggering genius I can finally write. All of this won't happen, of course. Free time, even without the burden of school, really only means the two or three hours between my children's bedtime and my own, and experience teaches me that this time passes all too quickly, usually wasted with random internet browsing, dishwashing, or some other pointless distraction. (I honestly don't mind doing the dishes; it just kills me to do them during that sacred time when the children are in bed and I could be doing something else.)

For someone who values downtime as much as I do (as a teenager and young adult, I honestly could spend hours and days on end doing nothing but reading and rereading comic books), I don't live a life that actually includes very much of it. I lament this fact often, but I don't really regret it. The children--the primary timesuckers in my life--are worth it, and I remind myself frequently that they will not always need one or both of their parents to pay attention to them each and every moment of the day (and often into the night). School, also, will not last forever (much as it feels like it already has), and it too will be worth it. I chose librarianship over English professorship, after all, not only because the two PhD programs I applied to rejected me, but also because it's a shorter program and leads to a profession that does not require me to do homework (in the form of lesson plans and grading) for the rest of my life. Eventually, I will get there.

In the meantime, I'll enjoy my spring break.

A Very Brief and Only Vaguely Sexual Scene in the Fobcave (specifically, the Fob bedroom)

SCENE: Master Fob and FoxyJ are lying in bed, a foot or two apart and facing each other. Master Fob's right hand lies palm up , pointing toward Foxy. Foxy lays her right hand on top of Master Fob's, interlocking the thumbs, effectively imitating a handshake.

FOXYJ: Is this what they call missionary position?

Funding Options for 07-08

Plan A: Get a FLAS grant, which is where they pay me (tuition plus a nice stipend) to take Spanish classes in addition to my LIS classes. This would mean, basically, that we're set, and it has the added advantage of not requiring me to work, which opens up time for FoxyJ to get a job, which leads not only to extra money but, more importantly, added sanity for the whole family.

Plan B: Get the graduate student assistantship with the iSchool that I just applied for. This would pay tuition plus a nice stipend, but they'd actually want me to work for the money. Still, though, not a bad option.

Plan C: Get rehired at the admission office next winter. This would pay tuition plus the nice stipend for winter quarter, but I'd have to fend for myself as far as fall quarter goes. The nice thing, though, is that while the other two options require me to stay through June (the end of spring quarter), this option means I could be be done with school in March (the end of winter quarter, as in a year from now).

Plan D: Get rejected by all of the above options and resort to selling my body for sex and/or scientific research. This has the benefit of advancing the field of science and/or sex.

God

I read the following in an application this morning:

"I never thought I could be close to God because I am gay."

I know a lot of people who have expressed similar sentiments, but I honestly can't say I relate. While many things have changed and continue to change regarding my feelings about religion and sexuality, the one constant has always been a God who loves me and accepts me for who I am. If God didn't approve of homosexuality, then of course he would make a way for me to not be gay; if experience showed me that there was no way for me to not be gay, then obviously God loved me as I was because I have never been able to conceive of a supreme being who is anything other than loving and accepting of his creations.

I suppose I have my upbringing to thank for this. Thank you, upbringing.

Unbias

In my job as an admissions reader, I am completely unbiased and impartial. If I were partial, though, I would be partial to the following applicants:

• Kids from Hawaii
• Kids who are gay
• Kids who are or ever have been Mormon
• Kids who want to be writers when they grow up
• Kids who write about superheroes (though I have yet to see one)
• Kids who write about Lauryn Hill (again, haven't seen this one yet but when I do he or she is definitely getting in--based on his or her other merits, of course)

I'm trying to figure out what the connection between all these things is, but I can't quite put my finger on it.

Six More

By request:

1. I am more concerned by my daughter's bum touching a public toilet seat than I am by my own. For her, I use a disposable paper cover thingee if the seat is at all suspicious-looking. For myself, I just wipe it off with toilet paper.
   
2. I can make my tongue into a W. Can you?
3. For some reason IMing and chatting stress me out, but I have no problem with having a two-hour conversation via a series of one-sentence emails.
4. Cryptic anonymous comments disturb me. Are you laughing with me or at me? I have no way of telling if all I know about you is that you live in Florida.
5. There was a missionary (not a companion, but an apartmentmate) who I would punch and wrestle with as an excuse for physical contact. I did so frequently enough that my motivations were probably obvious to anyone paying attention.
   
6. I lie to myself when I don't like the truth. My freshman year of college, for example, I realized that I really didn't like the Doctrine and Covenants, but I had not allowed myself to consciously admit it because I didn't think it was acceptable to dislike a work of scripture.
   

Apparently I'm supposed to pass this assignment on to six others now, but I hate to make anyone do something he or she doesn't want to, so instead I'll say that the first six people to comment saying the words "I accept the challenge, Master Fob" are invited to write six interesting facts about themselves on their blogs. I encourage you to do this especially if you secretly want to but are embarrassed to admit it. I promise, I won't tell anyone--not even myself.

The Polls Are Closed

Well, technically, they closed sometime yesterday, as I had to decide what I was going to indulge in.

The results:

• Chocolate -
  
• Fat -
  
• Swearing -
  
• Yelling at small children ||
  
• Sloth -
  
• Procrastination -
  
• Bad posture |
  
• Bad oral hygiene (i.e. failure to floss regularly) ||
  
• World hunger -
  
• War ||
  
• Misogyny -
  
• Misandry -
  
• Gerontophilism |
  
• Narcissism |
  
• Lust -
  
• Narcissistic lust -
  
• Gluttony -
  
• Pride -
  
• Excessive listmaking -
  
• Excessive questioning of the status quo |
• Vegetables |
• Yelling at old people and lusting after small children |

And when I add my own three votes, we get:

• Gluttony |||

But I am willing to give up more than one thing for you, my electorate, so in addition to giving up gluttony (in the form of eating large portions and eating out of boredom), I will give up bad oral hygiene, yelling at children, and war.

Yesterday I celebrated Mardi Gras by eating a pastry, two Hostess cupcakes, three cookies, a large yummy dinner (prepared by the amazing FoxyJ), and a molten chocolate cake with Haagen Daas vanilla bean ice cream and whipped cream (also courtesy of the foxy one). I also failed to floss, yelled at random children on the street, and invaded three small countries. I hereby repent of these sins. Until Easter.

And now I present, at no added cost (and I assure you, no added benefit), my answers to Tolkien Boy's inane questions:

The sweet kind or the sexual kind?
Is there a difference?
Yours or other people's?
Yours.
What the hell?
What indeed.
Yours or other people's?
Yours.
Actually, I read that most sloth meat is poisonous. Are you addicted?
I don't appreciate you mocking my addiction.
Don't you think it's taken you long enough to come to this resolution?
No, I think I'll put it off another year.
If you give this one up, does it give me permission to punch you in the stomach every time I see you slouch?
You, as well as anyone else who chooses to, always have permission to do so.
Are you aware that no one flosses except movie stars and the children of dentists?
Are you aware that you are the only person in the world who doesn't floss (as of today, now that I've started), and therefore should feel deep and lasting shame?
I gave this up in the spring of '89. Does it need to be given up again?
"...I would ask, can ye feel so now?"
In Bush's America?
Last I checked, Bush doesn't own the country. You must be thinking of Bill Gates.
You are aware, of course, that as long as you interact with women and maintain your Y chromosome, that this is impossible?
What makes you think I intend to do either?
Don't you know how cute the anders are?
Oh, believe me, I know.
How old is old?
40 and up.
You're giving me up?
Heh. Funny you should ask.
See last question?
See last answer?
Okay...that's weird...does this explain your need to wake at unholy hours to lift heavy weights?
Yes. Why is that weird?
A poll taken by Sir Jupiter and myself concludes that this is not something you deal with. Or are you talking metaphorically?
I am always talking metaphorically.
But not prejudice?
No, I never really had a thing for her. Apparently you didn't read my 100 Essential Facts carefully. Do so now; you'll notice he merits two facts but she, none.
Why not add excessive questioning of the status quo?
I did, but you were outvoted. Sorry.

Thank you for playing, please come again.