Friday, December 28, 2012

Thanks for Paying: An Erstwhile Guide to Graduate School Applications

The past week has been mostly offset by my recovering from surgery, specifically having my wisdom teeth removed. What I've been told is that I'm quite old to be having this surgery done, as most people have them out before they turn 20. The thing is, I remember when those people got their teeth out, and how their faces swelled up for a week's time and they were on high-grade industrial painkillers right out of a Rush Limbaugh movie, and am glad that of my four wise teeth, three chose to mostly settle into my mouth while one ornery little bugger became impacted. This is probably why my pain was much less intense than might otherwise have happened. (Don't get me wrong, my lower jaw has endured a sizeable amount of trauma to the bone, which results in a constant dull ache that throbs when I don't get hopped up on ibuprofen, in addition to the gaping wounds from where my former teeth occupied my mouth.)

Fortunately, I've not been knocked into senselessness by the drugs I'm taking to offset the pain. As a result, not only am I far more ambulatory than I had expected, my senses have not completely left my body. This means that I've been able to push forward with the process of applying to grad school. Coincidentally, I've also spent nearly $700 in the last few weeks for what may ultimately be a fruitless endeavor.

Let's start back at the beginning.

1) The Idea

It was somewhere around the month of May, while I was homeless and couch surfing as I had sublet my apartment. (Brief shout out to the Bestuls and the Beans who tolerated my presence on their futon and couch for much of this time as I worked up the funds to afford my apartment once again. Traveling out west was the experience I needed when I needed it, and I'd do it again if I could, but I'd also have sublet my apartment a little sooner than I ended up doing, if only to return to my humble abode in a more timely manner.) As one can imagine, working part time at two jobs while living in someone else's home is not an ideal situation for someone who's always held Emerson's "Self-Reliance" to their heart as a mantra of sorts. Thinking back over where I wanted to be, I remembered that my initial promise to myself was that after three years of being out of college, I would start thinking about applying for graduate school. I didn't want to jump back in as soon as I graduated; most of the programs I was interested in wanted me to work up a sizeable amount of career experience as it was. Thinking back, I looked over my accomplishments and (with some helpful advice from several mentors) realized that I've actually done quite a bit since graduating. I've performed in several professional theatre productions; I've completed an internship at one of the most prestigious Shakespeare theatres in the country; I've become the only undergraduate to have a scholarly essay (that didn't suck) published in BGSU's The Projector; I've written a complete fantasy novel (that doesn't suck); I've made friends in high places; and, as of this coming summer, I will have directed a professional performance of "As You Like It" for a company that has grown in renown and reputation in its community. (Hopefully, it won't suck.)

Realizing this, I decided that yes, looking at graduate school requirements would be worth my while.

But in which field?

2) The Research

In my undergraduate studies, I fell in love with theatre. I knew that directing was a passion of mine ever since I was young, but I didn't realize that theatre spoke to me as strongly as it did. Focusing my study, I found that I could in fact direct with some measure of success.

What I didn't realize was how much I also loved writing. I'd been writing stories ever since I was in kindergarten. In college, it had fallen by the wayside, but I still kept several ideas for short stories that I told myself I would work on from time to time. Plays were another creative outlet that let me get my kicks out, short plays that were well received by friends and colleagues who enjoyed their presence. (The success of "Hunter Thompson Strikes Again!" is possibly my favorite memory of working in the theatre; it's the only show I'd ever seen in a student setting to receive a standing ovation. Not only that, but when it was requested for an encore presentation in Toledo, it received a second standing ovation. Yeah, I'm kinda proud of that one.) Writing on a grand scale fell off my radar.

So it was something of a surprise, yet completely understandable, when I fell back into writing following the passing of my mother. During May and June, I wrote the second draft of my novel and realized that while the first draft, in essence, sucked, the new work I was doing was improving the novel ten-fold. It became completely conceivable that I could make a living as a writer. (A Hard and Arduous Way of Life, to be sure, but a Way of Life nonetheless.) Looking over my options for graduate school, I knew that I could pursue either career and be completely happy with my choice, while still maintaining the other as a second passion.

So, if you could (and would) do both of these options, why do grad school at all? you might ask. There are three answers to that question.

1) To expand on my creative process, making myself better at my chosen field than I was before so as to provide opportunities that I would not have been capable of achieving before.

2) To gain practical experience as a teacher and open my avenues for working in a collegiate setting. It's no lie that my mother had wished fervently for me to continue my studies in graduate school, and that her presence in my life as a teacher impacted me greatly. For me, one of the greatest ways in which I could honor her memory would be to use my talents as an educator while still putting out new art into the world.

3) To give myself time to focus solely on my craft. Sure, I'm getting stuff done in the real world, but there's also having a job and paying bills to manage that comes with it. The result is my efforts are somewhat minimized from what I would like to be doing at this young and tender stage of my career. Two or three years solely focused on my craft would be immeasurably beneficial to my artistic abilities.

The ultimate decision I reached was this: I would apply to both M.F.A.'s in Creative Writing and in Theatre Directing. Whichever programs accepted me, with the best funding offers, would be the direction (no pun intended) that my studies would take. Sort of leaving it to the fates after doing everything in my power to achieve something.

It was settled. I now had a goal: to get into grad school for either writing or directing. Now I needed to pick out which ones.

3) The Schools

I looked at over fifty programs for creative writing, and upwards of twenty directing MFA programs. There are all kinds of places where I could practice, and all kinds of programs which would admit me at the drop of a hat. The problem with those is that I wouldn't be learning anything new; a cursory study of the programs revealed something only slightly more intense than my undergraduate studies had been. There were also some incredibly prestigious programs, programs with world-famous alumni. Needless to say, my chances of getting into these programs rested at somewhere above or below zero, depending upon wind fluctuations.

Proximity to home was a concern and a consideration. I didn't want to go to school on the East Coast, New York seemed too terrifying, the West Coast still seems alien to me at this point in my life (coupled with the imploding California school system), and the South is even more terrifying. Except Disney World, and Disney does not offer an MFA. At the same time, I wanted to keep pushing myself beyond my comfort zone; schools that had more remote settings that appealed to my love of nature might be good for writing. Schools near Chicago, with all of the connections that might entail, would be good for directing. SO MANY CHOICES.

As of now, I've settled on the following schools for their respective programs:

Creative Writing:

University of Iowa

Iowa automatically made the cut as the best Creative Writing program in the country. With that being said, I realize that the likelihood of getting into the Writer's Workshop is...well, let's just say that they admit 25 students a year out of 1400 that apply annually. That's an admissions rate of 1.7%. Eeks.

Iowa State University

Their program is actually entitled Creative Writing and Environment. Being an eco-hippie who's always wondering about how to pay tribute to my love of nature and desire to share the joy and wonder that is living on the planet Earth, this program spoke to me right from the start. I'm not saying that it's my preferred program, because I'd be happy getting into any of these, but it's up near the top.

Ohio State University

O!H! - I!O!

University of Colorado - Boulder

Because sitting on the side of a mountain solely to write would be the best experience that I can think of.

University of Michigan

Similar to Iowa. Also, this goes against 25 years of training myself to hate That School Up North. If I get it, it would be amazing, but I'd immediately lose 10% of my Facebook friends. Maybe not that many.

University of Idaho

Not just because it's the Vandals, let me get that out there right now. This school's program is actually remarkably similar to Iowa State's environmental study program. And having visited the Palouse, I can testify that it's a perfect writing environment out there. If not isolated from anything remotely human.

Theatre Directing:

Illinois State University

I've wanted to apply to this school for years. They have a fantastic theatre program, focused on classical studies, and their program features a great deal of hands on work that greatly appeals to me. Plus they're very closely connected to Chicago and also require you to complete an internship at a qualified regional theatre. Sort of my ideal scenario for learning to direct at a graduate level.

Purdue University

Much like Illinois State, only with 100% more Boilermakers.

Southern Illinois University - Carbondale

This program came highly recommended by way of my mentors, and features more hands on work. That was essentially my biggest requirement of a directing program (besides obtaining an assistant ship), allowing me to have access to a great deal of practical experience. With guided feedback, that would allow me to advance further into my abilities as a director than simply sitting in a classroom doing scene work would ever do. Also, this would finally let me explore Southern Illinois. (Not that I'm shallow or anything.)

Ohio University

Honestly, this might not make the cut; I've heard great things about the program and about the school, and it does come highly recommended. It might just be a victim of the costs of applying. (More on that in a second.)

Just Missed the Cut:

DePaul University

The only program in Chicago I liked, but they don't offer an assistant ship. That means loans. Guh.

Bowling Green State University

For all intents and purposes, BGSU does have a great creative writing program. It offers an assistant ship, and is a familiar setting. The downside is it's a familiar setting; I have many friends there already, and have experienced most of what the town has to offer. Going back to learn to write might not be the best thing for me. Even if it would be an all new program with faculty that I've not worked with before, it would be the same setting that I'd been in for five years. Consequently, they just missed the cut.

4) The Applications

Having picked out the schools, now I set to putting together my materials. Each application required a Curriculum Vita, a glorified academic resume. Putting that together wasn't as hard as I had thought, with much welcomed assistance from my mentors from undergrad. It was putting this together that helped me further realize how much I've done over the last few years.

The bitch was writing a statement of purpose. Doing research on the subject led me to discover that there are unwritten rules to writing these things: use descriptive grammar; don't be afraid to brag about yourself, but don't embellish; avoid certain words; make it pop, yet don't make it too crazy. I spent several months agonizing over how to write a solid statement of purpose before finally committing something to paper. Even then, it had to change depending on the program I was applying to. While forcing myself into a deadline brought out some of the better results, dealing with the statement of purpose will not be something I miss about this whole process.

Letters of recommendation followed, much the same as when I applied for internships, and once again, I am indebted to anyone and everyone who wrote a letter spouting my virtues (or lack thereof).

The last piece of each application was if a creative sample was not. For creative writing, this meant manuscripts of stories and excerpts from my book (typically in the form of chapters). My short stories "The Duet" and "Wren who is Raised by Wolves" were given a quick edit and revision, and as I finished the third and a half draft of my book, several chapters were pulled out. The samples varied between 25 to 80 pages, and each gave a quality representation of my writing capability. For directing, only one school required a portfolio of work, quickly drawn together with highlights from my undergraduate coursework, my directed shows, and my internship.

No, the applications were easy. The bitch was paying for them.

5) The Fees

It's no secret that colleges and universities are increasingly run by administrative costs, much as a business would be. It's also no secret that paying for college remains an expensive endeavor. What's a complete scam is how expensive it's getting simply to apply for admission into college.

Before I did anything, I was required to take the GRE (Graduate Record Exam) for most of the colleges I applied to. Simply taking that exam cost me $175. It graciously allowed me to send my score to four colleges for free, but each additional score that I had to send out would cost an additional $25.

Here's a rundown of the costs of each application, along with if I had to pay a GRE fee or not.

Ohio State -    $40; GRE - $25
Colorado -      $50; GRE - $25
Michigan -      $65; GRE submitted early
Iowa -             $60; GRE submitted early
Iowa State -    $40; GRE submitted early
Idaho -            $60; GRE NOT REQUIRED (Woo!)
Illinois State - $40; GRE submitted early
Purdue -          $60; GRE - $25
SIUC -            $50; GRE - $25
Ohio -             $50; GRE NOT REQUIRED

If you factor in the $175 GRE fee, the $20 I paid in postage to mail out transcripts and manuscripts, and the $20 used to pay for copies and FedEx computer usage time, the grand total for just applying to grad school without knowing if I actually get in or not comes to: $830.00.

And to think, I got into this so I could ultimately make more money in my career.

Where I Stand Right Now)

As of right now, I still have to send in materials for Idaho, SIUC, and OU (though OU might fall victim to my not wanting to spend another $50 for a school I'm not that excited about in the first place) and will be waiting until late February/early March to hear if I've gotten in to any of these schools. As I've mentioned before, I don't want to go into major, soul-sucking debt for the next three years of my life, so if I do get into a school minus an assistantship, I will have to strongly consider turning down the offer. As it stands though, I feel like I've built a fairly competitive case for getting into grad school and earning the right to teach introductory courses. Only time will tell if the admissions boards will see me in the same light. In the meantime, I'm also waiting on interviews for both Illinois State and for SIUC before they make a final decision; I'm thinking of it as a job interview for a three year teaching contract. All I can do now, however, is wait.

Oddly enough, that's proving to be the hardest part of the whole process.

Monday, December 10, 2012

The Price of a Memory: Counting Crows, Emotional Recall, and How I Spent My Summer Vacation


While undergoing the process of filling out statement of purpose essays, autobiographical statements, cover letters, and other assorted requirements for graduate school applications, I find myself needing a steady diet of outlets to push my energy. Granted, while applications are not hard work, I'm discovering that after three years of waiting to hear on job applications before ultimately meeting rejection for big-kid job after job after job, I have gained something of an anxiety with a regards towards finding acceptance. This is nothing new for any twentysomething of this generation: most of us are so used to dealing with failure that success comes as something of a surprise when it finally rears its gilded head. This anxiety has led to my second-guessing nearly everything involved in my applications; whether it be the writing samples I'm providing or the aforementioned statements of my artistic purpose. It's not so much an anxiety that locks me into what I'm doing so much as a newfound way for depression to manifest itself: this school rejects a thousand applicants each year, what's the point? will they even think I'm qualified for teaching? how can I afford this shit, even if I do get in? is this how I really want to commit myself for the rest of my life? is it too late to throw it all away and just start a band?

And so I turn to these outlets to let out my creative anxieties, which are fairly neutered by this by-the-numbers process I've engaged in. The first way is by writing for the Addison Recorder, which is fun in its own way. I get to write about topical subjects I love, a couple dozen people read about it, and life is good. Other ways include working on the outline for my next book. Another way is breaking down As You Like It so that I can turn it into a show next summer.

And then there's the music.

If you know me at all, you know that I somehow missed out on the Counting Crows boat for most of my life, failing to discover them until I turned 24. But as soon as I did, through a clip of the Best Musical Performances of SNL, it was love at first sight. Listening to "Round Here" for the first time actively gave me chills. I remember sitting in my darkened living room, wondering who the hell this guy was with dreadlocks, while becoming enraptured in the vocals of the song. Here was the band I've been looking for all my life, I remember thinking. These guys get it; they know what music is, and what it means to be a band.

(Caveat: I know the gripes against C.C., and that Adam Duritz and his lyrics have a tendency to come across as whiny and self-absorbed. But let's be fair here, I needed to hear these things at that particular point in my life. Plus, they're pretty good at what they do.)

Since finding them, I've devoured their entire discography, and in the midst of being young and broke in the city, pined at being unable to afford tickets for their most recent tour. (When they come around again, make no mistake, I will be there, come hell or high water.) I've been rolling over their songs time and time again (pun intended), listening for new things on each subsequent play. It's no surprise that if I ever go to a karaoke night with friends, I'm probably singing at least one C.C. song. While this may turn out to be a phase of my life that I look back on in ten years and laugh at, I'm enjoying the hell out of it at the moment.

At the moment, I'm embroiled in the midst of their third album, This Desert Life (1999). While my favorite songs do come from their first album, the seminal August and Everything After (1993), as a complete whole, TDL is (at this exact moment in time) my favorite album as a complete entity. Sure, August is fantastic (always), Recovering the Satellites (1996) is more rocking than anything else they have, Hard Candy (2002) is technically brilliant, etc., but there's something about TDL that I just love. Its sense of completeness as a study of dreams. Its melodic composition, the band working in perfect unison. Its perfect backdrop being speeding along a desert highway at night, stars in the sky, windows down, minds drifting over the horizon.

Or something like that.

For me (as for most people I would imagine), listening to music involves emotional recall. There are some songs where I can only imagine listening to them in one singular location. Most of the music I love, however, evokes a sense of feeling, rather than a specific place. That feeling might be from a particular moment in time (listening to Third Eye Blind on the bus to middle school) or from being in a certain place (why I associate Iz with working at Borders), but it's a powerful feeling, and why I love listening to music and especially to Counting Crows. What follows is my attempt to describe what the twelve tracks on This Desert Life inspire in me. More for kicks than anything else.

(Sidenote: I think one reason I like this album the best is because of the cover art and booklet. Featuring art by Dave McKean, the album cover is adapted from his jacket for Neil Gaiman's "The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish", and each song is accompanied by McKean's trademark surrealist imagery. Favorite band, favorite author, I knew there was a reason this was my favorite album at this moment in time!)

1. "Hanginaround"

Obviously, this one makes me wish I was still in a band.  I do miss the days of hanging out backstage at The Attic. At the same time, this reminds me of Saturdays after parties in college, the days when we weren't hungover, but felt like getting Pita Pit or pizza out somewhere. Waffle House or Big Boy in the early am hours also comes to mind, the times where it felt like a party and everyone was just laughing the entire time. Nostalgia, in other words.

2. "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby"



This is a Top 5 Counting Crows' song for me. It always feels for me like the start of a road trip, heading out of Ohio to visit Chicago/Cleveland/California/wherever. There's a trace of something being left behind for me, if not carrying along everything with me. Because "there's a piece of Maria in every song that I sing..."

3. "Amy Hit the Atmosphere"

This is my least favorite song on the album, but it's still good. I just don't have any particularly strong associations with it. The most I can come up with is falling asleep on one of the seats in the van that we took on a road trip to Idaho. I hadn't yet listened to this song (or album) before that trip, and didn't acquire it until afterwards, but the moment that strikes it home for me is the wistful background vocals behind the second verse. That's what the space between waking and dreaming feels like: breaking out of one song into an entirely different piece of music.

4. "Four Days"

There's a windmill farm on I-65 between mile markers 191 and 205 that I would normally drive through in the dark on my way between Chicago and Dayton. To me, that's what this song is: the phantom space between departure and destination, filled with promises on either end. "Have you seen Ohio rise?"

5. "All My Friends"




There have been many dances I've attended in my lifetime, be they proms or masques, formals or weddings. This song, while never likely to crack the rotation anywhere, is to me being surrounded by my closest friends, dancing and spinning our way into the night, everyone lost in a trance that borders on poetic. These are moments that I wish would last forever, not associated with any particular conversation, but more on a sense of closeness. It's a feeling that can only arise spontaneously, without any impetus of creation.

6. "High Life"

This is walking back home from the rec center during the months I was trying to get back into shape (and succeeded for a brief time before I caught mono and the whole thing went to pot). At the time, I was somewhat lost in my own personal wasteland, trying to figure out what the next year of my life would be like, making sense of classes and relationships, and what was important to me. It's the time where I started to really trust in just letting things happen without working towards any specific goals; not letting go and trusting to the wind, more like keeping my head above water and trusting in life to take me in a specific direction. This practice worked out at the time, and has had repeated benefits of jolting me whenever my life particularly needed a burst of new energy.

7. "Colorblind"

The mopey-R.E.M. style song to me is pulling off at the first exit in Indiana, just past the Ohio border, on I-70, finding a Speedway to fill up my tank. Drifting along Route 40 in the dark, looking at the lit-up, empty fast-food joints, I started contemplating emptiness and vacancy and its role in my life. You know, the sad-sack, depressed shit you're supposed to think about while listening to stuff like this.

8. "I Wish I Was A Girl"

Having the ability to tell someone that you're "doin' alright these days" when you're really not is something I've mastered over the years. Anytime someone asks me how things are going and I say things are good, there's a 10 to 1 shot that I'm lying to them. These last three songs are all about making a change in your life and the necessity that brings that about. Or maybe that's what I'm projecting onto these songs. (Hmm. Topical.) Either way, for me, this brings to mind deciding to take a break from life, the universe, and everything last March, finding a plane ticket for the cheap and making my way out to California. It also brings back to memory the week right before I left for Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp's 2005 International Jazz Tour, saying good-bye to high school just in time to pack up and leave for Europe. If I could go back and travel Europe, I'd go nuts. As it is, I'm not at a point in my life where I can do that; all my savings went to college and to my internship in New Jersey. That being said, one of these days, backpacking across the country is going to happen again.

9. "Speedway"

For some reason, I can never remember the title of this song, even though it's one of my favorite tracks on the album. Like before, it comes with needing to make a trip/change/difference, only it lies in stasis instead. There's a lot of nights where I've lived this song by lying awake in bed, thinking about needing to get out and make something of myself, but not quite having the drive to do it. AKA, much of summer 2011. (There's a reason that I fell head over heels in love with this band that summer, you know.)

10. "St. Robinson in his Cadillac Dream"



Completing the album's cycle of dreams and movement through inertia, this song brings to mind a very specific time and place for me. It's high school, somewhere in spring 2004, and my friend and I are walking back from lunch to class. My friend stops, whispers my name, and nods towards the front doors, beckoning the idea of cutting the last half of the school day and just getting out and driving. Me being far too responsible for my own good at the time, I shot down the idea. If I instead take her up on the idea and we bolt out the door, this song is the soundtrack to wherever we end up and to whatever adventures we end up going on. There's a small part of me that believes that if we do cut school that day, my life changes in some way that I'll never quite know about. All I can do is dream of driving away in a bright blue Cadillac through the sky.

Anyway, these are some of the things I'm thinking about rather than working on a statement of purpose concerning why I should attend the University of Michigan's creative writing program. At this time, I'm putting in August and Everything After: Live at Town Hall in an attempt to fall asleep once again. But know that I'm dreaming "of ballerinas and I don't know why, but I see Cadillac's sailing..."

Sunday, December 2, 2012

An Erstwhile Explanation: What I Did Over My Summer/Fall/Thanksgiving Vacations

So, it's been a while, hasn't it?

Originally, I started this blog as a means of keeping myself motivated, keeping myself moving forward, and keeping myself entertained back in the days when I was a new immigrant to the Windy City, young and full of ideals.

Then life took a turn, to say the least.

Part of my reluctance at updating this blog in the interim months since has been a fear of having to follow my last posting. I won't lie when I say that the response received from the eulogy I wrote for my mother was thoroughly overwhelming. Many of you reached out to me to let me know how much it affected you, and while it's a bizarre feeling to accept recognition for something entirely personal, I must thank everyone who's said anything in the months since April of 2012. It really does mean a lot, and I am eternally grateful for all of you.

Now, where were we.

In the ten months between now and then, I have finished two subsequent drafts of my novel, as well as given it a title. The Defenders of Avondale: Book One of the Atlantean Chronicles has clocked in at 142,000 + words, 475 + pages (double spaced, 12 point Times New Roman, thank you very much), and several sterling reviews from readers who may/may not be biased to accept my greatness before my ever having demonstrated it.

In all seriousness, I'm quite proud of the book (especially after the most recent edit. The world that I've been creating ever since my freshman year of high school has finally been recognized on the page, and I am continually gleeful about the new twists and turns waiting to be discovered there. So much so that I've already begun the outline for Book Two of the Atlantean Chronicles: Bryls'kin Boogaloo.

(One of these days, you'll understand why that last title is so freaking hilarious.)

The big push now is to get it published/find representation in order to get it published. I am harboring no illusions that this will be a quick process; if I find a publisher willing to give me money for my words by Christmas, I'll be happy as a clam.

That's Christmas of 2013, mind you.

Another major development is my finally directing a (semi) professional show! And it's Shakespeare, no less! Once again, the career of the struggling actor/writer/director takes a turn for the surreal, as I assume the reins of Free Shakespeare!'s summer performance of As You Like It, coming soon to a metropark in the Dayton, OH area near you!

I've worked with the company before, having played Lysander in their 2011 production of A Midsummer Night's Dream. I like to think that the experience was a good one (my first ever unabashed lead/ingenue role!), and that our show was pretty good, too. This upcoming summer's production should be one of much fun, while remaining true to Shakespeare's text, as I have been taught and carefully trained over the years.

Oh, and expect street drumming and hippies.

The final major development in my career life is to seek out admission to graduate school. One of my mother's major wishes, I have reached the end of my third year out of undergraduate studies, a time when I told myself that I would see if my path had prepared me enough for continuing my education. Given the developments of the last several years, I feel that I'm at the very least ready to embrace such a choice, and am pursuing entrance to both Theatre Directing M.F.A.'s and Creative Writing M.F.A.'s.

(I really couldn't choose to prioritize one over the other, so I'm sending out my (semi-considerable) resumes to both types of programs and letting the fates (and funding) dictate where I'll be heading.)

For Creative Writing, I plan on applying (have already applied to some, in fact) to THE Ohio State University, the University of Colorado, the University of Iowa (despite my snowball's chance in hell of acceptance), Iowa State University, that School up North, possibly Purdue, and potentially Bowling Green State University. For Directing, I will be applying to Illinois State University, DePaul University, Ohio University, Purdue University, and Southern Illinois University-Carbondale. I'm not sure of acceptance to any of these places (it could be that my lack of success at finding gainful employment/internships has jaded my views of application processes), but I am committed to following whatever path it is that I'm supposed to.

I've been a firm believer for at least a decade now that everything has a tendency to work out the way that it's supposed to. Whether you want to call that faith or just dumb luck, feel free. I choose not to classify it as faith in a higher power; rather, it is faith that as long as I'm working to better myself, the right situations will present themselves, and it is up to me to embrace them to the fullness of my capacity.

Hopefully, there's cake.

For now, I leave you with the promise that I will be updating this mother-fucker on a more regular basis, and that the content will be somewhat more grounded in nature than it was in the months leading up to February 17th.

("Well, that's a bold faced lie, you fucker!" my associate yells through instant messaging. I forgot to mention him. In the months since, he has relocated to his original hometown of Livonia, MI. This does not limit the damage that he is certainly capable of. Alas, he is right; a potential for manic-tendencies will remain so long as I'm writing this thing, and you'd better believe it.)

At the same time, I will also be continually be providing content for The Addison Recorder, my own personal contribution (along with my three co-editors) to the glut of information and (partially) informed opinions on the Super Highway known as the Internet.

Until we meet again, bonne nuit, gentle readers. Bonne nuit to you all.