: About Me

Gainfully employed as a high school English teacher, I am the next step in human evolution, a fact manifested in my enormous stature.

My day proceeds as follows: I wake up at four forty in the morning, at which point I begin a pot of coffee. Then my dogs walk me. I polish up the day's lesson, shower, and head to school, where for six hours I inflict English IV on sevety-nine students, many of whom are actually more intelligent than I am.
At two forty five, I pick up candy wrappers, balls of paper, and used tissues left by my students then go for a run. At four thirty, I heave my sweaty carcass into the car to drive home. Once home, my dogs walk me again. I cook dinner, baking special grocery store meat into oblivion, cutting it up, then wrapping it in a burrito with canned vegetables and cold sour cream. I grade papers with varying degrees of accuracy and research some online material for the next weeks lessons. Then the dogs to take me for one more short walk. I go to bed before ten.

An potentially irrelevant afterthough: I haven't gotten too much into the YouTube, but if you get the time, check out "what you know about math." A guy at work showed it to me. Probably one of the top ten funniest things I have ever seen. It'll be relevant if and when you check it out and find it funny.

My passion is ...

talking

I know too much about ...

Nothing

My parents always told me ...

Don't put your face in the dog's face. (my dad, although mom agreed)

My childhood ambition ...

Fly

My favorite memory ...

Listening to cartalk on the way to the dump.

Why I write ...

Maybe I'll read it later and like it.

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

Guns 'n' roses. "Don't Cry." Axel is so contrite.

My first job ...

Charlotte Golf Links

My best moment ...

I won a small 5k. It is awesome to singularly win something.

My inspiration ...

Was this a required field?

Creative Writing > Memoirs Memoirs: Why I write

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I am driven to write out of neurosis. This neurosis is caused by a dissonance, a sour note struck by attempting to reconcile what is without me and what is within me. How can I ignore the discrepancy? The act of writing moves me towards that reconciliation, and in doing so, makes me all that I am and all that I am not. Writing makes me humble. Before writing a word about anything, I must concede at least a temporary ignorance. This is given when writing about a foreign subject, but even when I am the subject, the best effort requires me to become a stranger to myself. For a moment, I peel ...

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