Imaginary Number

I’m a thinker by trade, and activist by actions. I prefer to be classified as a thinker since it highlights my brainpower, but I’ve been called a “crazy fucker” enough to know I’m known for being active. Sometimes, that leaves me in situations I do not want to ponder, such as doing math. The problem with math (ooh, pun!) is that the figures do not always add up. For example, I have a teaching position, another job, a new convertible, and expertise bordering on virtuoso territory. In a normal world, that equals success; in the real world, that means I watch the other guy leave with the girl. That’s a pain in the ass. I think of all the work I’ve put in…the time, the effort, dedication, etc. It gives me considerable grief to know this estimation is correct. I also find it disheartening…nay, disappointing that I’m told to be myself, yet that turns girls off. Seriously? If I stopped talking, I get funny looks. How do I know this? Well, I heard that a girl I liked isn’t in play because of my personality, so I killed my affect display. People were lost and confused. That’s fabulous, folks. To complete the series of unfortunate events, I had to entertain someone I’d effectively forgotten about, but I couldn’t run. I tried running. Running far. Didn’t run far enough. Yenno, I’m starting to wonder if God put money in my pocket to make up for the crap I’ve had to rationalize.

Therefore, I thought I’d skip the limelight and spend Halloween hard at work. I did catch The Social Network, and found it absolutely flawless. Great film. That’s the happy ending I deserve. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Green Day “Know Your Enemy”



I’m known to celebrate when I am victorious. At the moment, I’m feeling victorious…not by my own hand, mind you. Someone’s trying/tried to back me in the corner and overplayed the hand. Normally, I’m the one that blows certain victory by being a bit…prideful. Maybe proud was the better word. Anyhoo, no more painful tossing and turning, and awkward dodging of events. Speaking of peaceful attending of events…

Friday was the salsa team retreat, and of course, the Shaman of Sexy arrived and caused a scene. I don’t want to say I was a returning conquering hero, but if the sleeves fit, wear ’em. I was greeted with aplomb the minute I stepped foot inside with cider (that wasn’t entirely shared). My buddy, Mr. President, stayed far later than intended, but it was worth it to all of us. We drank, we danced, we stole things. In particular, I stole the show. I find it ironic how I’m the most eloquent when inebriated, despite all my learning occurring under sober circumstances. I took Victoria for a couple songs using Ric Flair’s Space Mountain line. I converted a potential foe to a devoted follower of the Palace of Wisdom. I even gave to charity, calling off a pursuit in deference to a teammate. Instead, I think I may have found someone else. I’ve been thinking about getting back on the horse, but other topics have taken precedence. Yet, that party was my first opportunity to try the new offense. Hey, you teach on campus? No way! Yes way! Dance? Sure, I think I can do that. Next thing you know, I’m doing my best Tarzan impersonation, beating my chest and inviting girls to take a ride on the Professor Guy Experience. No, that’s not going to work, but it’ll do for now. Considering I went dancing Monday and wasn’t this over, I owe my success to a feeling of familiarity. That, and a very well played game of Truth and Dare. Say what you will about friends and grievances, but friends always figure out a way to bail each other out. Case in point, the salsa game of choice. I should mention that we follow a strict code of honor that forbids any real violations, such as the stealing of a first kiss, drinking against sobriety, etc. Well, my teammate read my route without any conversation, and dared a girl to kiss me. Woo-hah! She didn’t flinch. Neither did I. Wins all around. Sure, last week was my first night out with my cohort buddies, but nothing beats an old time soiree with the gang. I do wonder how much we should expand the circle. People come, people go, and consistency makes things work. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Steadman “Wave Goodbye”

Talking to the Past

Teaching has been a bit of a headscratcher. Some days are joyous, some are neurotic, and others border on comatose. In other words, teaching is exactly what I need to be doing at this juncture, because I find enjoyment in it. Standing in front of a classroom provides me with my own forum to engage critical thought, share what I know, and hopefully teach along the way. Oddly enough, it’s a place where I can find myself. The last meeting’s topic was interpersonal attraction between the sexes. There were a few comments that were remotely offensive and oddball, but I accepted them all the same. Of course, students want to know more about the person who’s questioning them, so the spotlight was on me. I candidly answered the same questions posed to them, which was only fair. Mr. Guy, what do you like in girls you date? Why aren’t you dating her still? Those sorts of questions, and Pippa was my only thought. I couldn’t help but offer a smile as I walked back through those simple, tumultuous times. Maybe it’s the sobering old man in me that grants me the peace of mind to smile about the chaos. I was asked what I specifically liked about her, and I mentioned I dig a bit of crazy and the ego boost. Borderline personality disorder isn’t supposed to be a turn-on, but hell, the unpredictability helps out. The ego boost isn’t supposed to be as shallow as it sounds; she was my first girlfriend, something I had doubts would arrive. I got a cheap pop when I mentioned that working girl parts is a plus when it comes to the opposite sex. Heh heh heh. I do wonder how things would have turned out if we were able to piece the world together. Another one of the great “what ifs”…I doubt I would’ve been able to own the Shaman of Sexy moniker without her at my side. Of course, the name doesn’t ring hollow, nor does it ring full…but I can’t help but thank her for that. I would like another shot one day to see if we could be fixed. Until then, I’ll let my students teach me about me while I teach them about each other. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Kate Bush “Running Up That Hill (A Deal with God)”


Good evening, world! Or, I wish I could feel up to that grandiose statement, but odd aches and pains have been plaguing me recently. Standing up, sitting…all have become problematic. I’d like to pin the problem to the obscene amount of stuff that resides in my backpack. Realistically, it’s due to stress creeping up me like a bad fungus. I had a smorgasbord of projects due this week, which was fabulous in itself. The straw that broke the camel’s back was a girl being a bit…unreasonable. The old adage is “never compare yourself to others; they might be more fucked up than you think.”

Case in point: a blonde put me in a pretty unfavorable situation a few months back. In hindsight, I was more or less guided by being emotionally betrayed. There were no true consequences from it other than me accepting that I would have to stay away and let time (probably) heal wounds. Minor embarrassment, yes; long-term damage, no. In this current case, another blonde effectively wants to ruin what is going to be the closest society gets to perfection. Emotions run high, as they always will and have; I’m not immune to this, which is why I took the last case to heart. However, the game is not about ruining someone else’s livelihood/career/you get the idea. Even I’ve sobered up over the years, because I now find myself in positions of power that the old me would have abused religiously. Now, eh, it’s karma coming back, so I’ll just go back to driving the sexiest car in grad school. Now, I’m on edge, which is saying something because I’m usually on edge. Now, it’s like Joker-level edge. Hmmm, maybe I was fooling myself with thinking that I could enjoy life without chaos. No wait, that’s wrong. I was wrong to think that there wouldn’t be chaos in the first place. On the bright side, I’ve survived my first month, and I do feel like I’ve found my game speed for this. Besides, I hear that actually having shoulders is considered sexy in some parts. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – EMF “Unbelievable”


Despite Mr. Lane’s aversion to Facebook, I find it hilarious because there are few places where you can have a public discussion on getting a souvenir from Japan. What souvenir did I ask for? Sushi? No, damn it! I want boyshorts! From a vending machine!

If you walk the planet long enough, you’ll find yourself making errors that weren’t intended to be errors. That sounds a bit wrong, but my point’s there. I unintentionally offended a few people in my Conflict Resolution class, and I tried to do right by apologizing. I do hope they understood my sincerity and efforts. On the same note, I feel a tinge of cognitive dissonance with my normal classes. There was a midterm, and it was harder than I could have predicted. I know I’ve walked into tests shellshocked, but I’m special, so I aced everything. This on the other hand…yeah, I came to the conclusion that I might like my kids. They could learn a few things about the English language and following directions. Am I needy? Sure, why not. My genius knows no bounds.

…But my luck does. As a graduate student, I do find myself in very contrived scenarios. I may give a presentation off the cuff. I may talk someone up a tree, then down it, and back up again. I might try to defend my major’s humanity without attempting to read why I should be on defense. Hell, I might even do serious work, such as proctoring a test for a professor. Now, this is not that big of a deal; I did this for my old boss, and I’ll probably be doing it for my new boss. However, this is where things get interesting…on two notes. One, this was Pippa’s class. Why didn’t someone send me the memo? In a span of three seconds, I thought about the legality, irony, and purpose of the situation. Then I just said “screw it” and watched the class to prevent cheating. When her section left, another section came in. One girl was eyeballing me the whole time, and I thought it was…odd, but hell, shit happens. She waited until my colleague and four other testers left to seduce me. Or at least, that’s my best guess. Our smalltalk was leading me towards being censured and fired until she got my name wrong. How do you flirt with a power figure and get the name wrong? My name’s not Kenny, damn it! She was cute, though. Maybe another time, another test, or my preference, office hours. Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Ke$ha “Take It Off”