Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Waste of Human Resources

Last night I ate broccoli.  Lots of it.  Raw.  And, for whatever reason, broccoli gives me lots of gas.  It started in volume last night, but had not developed its own aroma.  This morning, however, I awoke to a stern brew.  It was intense.  Dark roast.  The shame is I have to hold it because I'll be in my office all day, and it seems every time I know I've let out a stinker, someone pops in for something.  Even though I'm leaving, I still don't need folks to realize that I'm a disgusting individual they shouldn't associate with.

I discover that in my sleepy haste I've left some questions unanswered that inquiring minds (hi Aunt Laurie!) want to know.

The Program?
I have no idea.  The advice I was given was to look for the programs my favorite writers teach at.  So far, I've only found one the fits the bill: Ohio State, home of Andrew Hudgins, who wrote a book of poetry I fell in love with.  Other than that, it's a bit taxing to search program by program for faculty, then search that faculty for any writing I can find quickly.  I don't have many favorites because I actually don't like most poetry.  It either seems to really rock me, or bore me, and it usually depends on a combination of the writer's form and subject.  I'll find something though.  I'm looking at programs anywhere in the US.  I do mean anywhere.  I'm talking to you, Fairbanks.

The Bathroom?
Hope for the best, plan for the worst.


No comments: