The Bostonian Abroad

-- There is something good to report: The teaching term is over, and a three-week break is upon me! (Even though I still have to teach on Wednesday nights and I have to study very hard for round two of the Prelims.) Symbolically, at least, it is a relief. I endured another term, another semester, and I am in a position to survey what has come before. The house looks good. New flooring will do that for a place. The pupps are as cute as ever, especially since L. has mastered the art of "Flo-beeing" them. Buster is simply too cute for words. Graduation this term was better than previous terms. I have grown comfortable with my role in it. The reason for this is unclear, but I just felt relaxed the entire time. The photo-posing at the end was easier, the final good-byes to my students, the speaking on stage - it has all gotten easier. So too has the teaching. My approach to grammar has grown steadily more scientific, yet it keeps a real-world tone to it. I

-- The past four years have been among the most difficult years of my entire life, and things don't look to get any better for the forseeable future. Culturally, I have not found the ability to assimilate. In my chosen calling, I feel frustration and anger at the utter lack of professionalism. In the purpose for which I came to this mistake in the Pacific, things are no better. Disillusionment is the norm, all around. For these reasons, I am forced to apologize to those I love for not having spoken with any of them in months. I have been so constantly upset that my health has suffered, both physical and mental. The solution to this present state of affairs is still unacceptible to me, so I continue in this supremely difficult life I have chosen. There may come a time when I am better able to deal with things, and I am still trying to find ways of coping that will bring that time closer, but for now, it is a struggle. Normally, I try to follow the old saying, "if

-- Had an epiphany recently. Hit on why it has been so difficult at times to relate to some people. The answer lies in the worlds we inhabit. My world is one of academics and domesticity, of sacred time with the family (of choice), of challenging study, of home improvement, of quiet moments of relaxation, of work seen as a career, as well as a calling, of rememberance of all the past hardships endured, leading to this time and place, of the need for appreciation of all things, great and small. The past was not too bad, but certainly not ideal. What I consider to be normal, others consider to be attrocities. When I was a kid, the method of punishment was "the beating". This involved wooden spoons, belts, hairbrushes, slaps across the face, and the pulling of hair. Insults were hurled freely, and often were meant to express love and admiration. I was told I would be a "ditch digger", that I was a "little prick". "Hello dick-less wonder&qu

-- In this modern age of commuting through ridiculous traffic, shopping at warehouse stores, worrying over the economy, trying to build a "career" (whatever the hell THAT is), and managing domestic responsibilities, time has become a scarce commodity. There was once a time when an hour seemed like a day, a day seemed like a week and a week was an entire month. Now, it all screams by unnoticed. (in spite of the screaming) Must get here... Must get there... As soon as this is over, I'll... Next on.... !!!!! I never used to understand when the old people I drove around in a wheelchair van said that "once you turn 21 - WHOOSH!! - it's all a blur!" I think I understand now. I am sitting on the edge of a beautiful summer in Hawaii. I have afternoons off! The world lies before me waiting to be seen, to be experienced! I can't. I have staff meetings; then I have to work out so that I can get rid of the stress-cheeseburgers I gorged myself o