occupation: prophet


In a desperate attempt to find anything to say about Aristophanes I just stumbled across an 8 page article that closely examines a single fart joke.


"Confidence in this interpretation erodes in the face of comparisons with other instances of farting in Greek comedy."

I can’t decide if I am 100% in love with my discipline, or 1000% done.

Oct 8
  • 14 years old: I'm young but I know what I want. This isn't that hard, I'm all grown up already and have everything figured out.
  • 17 years old: Well, this is a little harder than I thought. School is almost ending. What am I going to do with my life?
  • 21 years old: What the fuck is going on? Where are my socks?
  • 30 years old: No it's cool, bro. I've fucked this up before.
Oct 7

A list of grievances, with a library theme.

1) The college library, for the most part, apparently doesn’t believe in training. This is especially aggravating for me personally, as I work here in two different positions.

On one hand, I have no idea what I am doing at the circ desk, and feeling incompetent is not something I am known for handling gracefully. Oh, there’s a manual. A completely useless, good captain christ have you no idea how an index works-manual that mocks the very concept of providing information.

On the other hand, since no one in the archives has been trained in cold storage, (including the person who replaced by beloved former boss…) all of the most obnoxious items sit on a shelf and wait patiently for me. As much as I adore scrambling up the tin shelves of the too compact - compact shelving like a goddamn howler monkey, I could really go for maybe not always being the one pulling 40 pounds boxes toward my face just so I can properly file a flyer for some Integrated Learning luncheon.

2) Being really good at a job I don’t care for.

Yeah, I know where to put my feet so the overwrought shelves won’t collapse beneath my weight. Yes, I do know how to cleverly ask you questions with feigned interest so that you will, despite yourself, tell me what you are actually need, as opposed to what you think you want. I can, in fact, take that clusterfuck you pulled out of grandmother’s closet and turn into a comprehensive collection (complete with quality PDFs & a helpful finding aid) and load the whole godforsaken thing onto Archon before you create a folder titled “Etc & Misc”.

What I cannot do, is get any satisfaction from that. Bless those beautiful librarians, better people than me, who are there to help navigate my confused self when I need them. You wonderful people are all that stops academia from drowning in its own pretentious bullshit. I adore you all, but I can’t do it. Not when exchanges go down like this:

Student - I want to read this article, but it says link not found.
Me - Sure, it looks like the link is broken, just copy and paste the title into google scholar.
Student: (blank stare - then literally pushes her laptop at me)
Me - (takes 30 seconds to produce article, while simultaneously explaining proxies)
Student: Oh, so the articles are in more than one place?
Me: …What?
Student: Is google scholar like a thing the college does?

Nope. I got nothing. No shiny good feelings about helping an aspiring academic on their way to enlightenment or whatever other nonsense they tried to sell me at that conference. No motherfucker, I know what that is. That is fucking customer service. It is the same shit I have been doing for over a decade, but with a more entitled group of assholes. For me, that isn’t any different than standing behind a cash register and trying to explain membership cards. Nope. Call them patrons all you want, a customer is a customer and customers always suck. The will to live. Right out of you.

This post has been brought to you by accidently staying up until 2 am reading, then still waking up at 5:30 am for no reason and having a full schedule until 10 pm.

Oct 4

A Better Son/Daughter
Rilo Kiley

and sometimes when you’re on, you’re really fucking on 
and your friends they sing along and they love you 
but the lows are so extreme that the good seems fucking cheap 
and it teases you for weeks in its absence 

but you’ll fight and you’ll make it through 
you’ll fake it if you have to 
and you’ll show up for work with a smile 
and you’ll be better and you’ll be smarter 
and more grown up and a better daughter or son 
and a real good friend 
and you’ll be awake, you’ll be alert 
you’ll be positive though it hurts 
and you’ll laugh and embrace all your friends 
and you’ll be a real good listener 
you’ll be honest, you’ll be brave 
you’ll be handsome and you’ll be beautiful 
you’ll be happy

Oct 1

Today I dropped the ball so hard it bounced back up and hit me in the face.

Things I Find Unreasonably Irritating


1. The radio’s tendency to play the music of young people who need to remove themselves from my lawn posthaste.

2. Chatting in non-chatting spaces. There are zillions of places for you to chat, the gym and the library are not them.

3. When the dogs jump on my head at 2:00 AM. 2:00 AM is not and will never be dog breakfast time.

4. My metabolism’s disinclination to be predictable.

5. Being called “blunt.” PLAIN SPEECH MOTHERFUCKER.

6. Mystery leg pain.

7. Big fancy cars on the highway that for all their fanciness don’t seem to come with turn signals.

8. The fact that I will never grow up to be Ms. Frizzle.


In real life

  • Her: So will you be applying here?
  • Me: No, unfortunately the professor you had me interview with was condescending and rude.
  • Her: That's how everyone in the discipline is. Classics people are pretentious.
  • Me: ...True as that might be, if your faculty can't go 20 minutes without personally insulting an undergrad, it suggests to me that I will have to endure mental abuse if I go here. Your dismissal just confirmed it.
  • Her: ...
  • Me: But thanks for the T-shirt.

There is a half assed intervention going down in the hotel room next to mine. Alex’s parents are in such denial of his drug and gambling addiction. Rich people are fucking weird.

mistakes were made

For starters this happened:

Me: Hey do you want to look over this speech I’m about to give?

Her: Yeah, you can’t say any of this. Here, I took my favorite lines out of your paper and wrote a whole new presentation for you. Use this.

Me: …

Thanks. That’s real sweet of you. I’m going to go panic, not sleep, and seriously reconsider all my life choices right now. Maybe I still have time to learn how to drive a truck.

I’m leaving for a conference in the morning

The McNair people are paying for a hotel and they rented this big, absurd SUV for me to drive. The conference dinner is on a boat. I’ve never been on a boat before. All I have to do is show up and talk about monsters for 10 minutes.

I still can’t get over the fact that I’m getting money to do academic stuff in any capacity. I keep waiting for someone to realize I’m a fraud and they’ve made a terrible mistake.

I wish I had the power to cause the Universe to give you pie! I shall continue to think pie thoughts in your direction.

What do you mean wish? Clearly that is what happened. Don’t belittle your gift Friend!

He did it. Kid made me a whole damn apple pie. From scratch. It tasted like love, appreciation and brown sugar.

We were joined by another queer McNair student, and three of us sat for 2 hours eating apple pie and talking shit about everything from the wealthy kids who go here, to the administration.

My favorite exchange:

Me: And you know we all say the same thing every time someone screws up. “I do not pay…

All 3 in perfect unison:
“…50 grand a year to go to this school to put up with this shit.”

And not a damn one of us pays anywhere near full tuition! We are all on grants and scholarships.

I don’t give a fuck! I say it at least twice a day.

If I actually paid 50 grand to go here and they pulled this shit, I’d have murdered a person.

How did I get so lucky? Is this because coffeepotbadger wished for me to have all the pie??

I helped a kid rewrite a scholarship application and he was so impressed with my bullshit skills and thankful for my help that he baked me an apple pie from scratch.

Tomorrow I am getting paid in pie. Gratitude pie.

An apple pie. From scratch. For me.

This is not a drill. This is it people. I have just learned how to successfully “life”.

Actual conversation I just had in actual real life.

  • : :Checking out a movie for a patron::
  • Her: Do you think these people are actors?
  • Me: ...Do I think the people in the movie are actors? Yes. Yes I do.
  • Her: Why aren't there any reality movies? With real people like reality TV. Why isn't that a thing?
  • Me: Documentaries. That is the word you are looking for. Documentaries are things.