halloweening in history
Yesterday in class, I gave an extra points opportunity, which I like to do from time-to-time to help those who really are trying in the class and just can't quite get over test humps, pop quizzes, etc. I know they are studying; their answers are reflected in essays. They know the material, but they get test anxiety. They are in essence, me as an undergrad.
For fun, I offered them the chance to dress up for Halloween. Now, it's a Tues/Thurs class, so Halloween didn't fall for a few more days, but still. It's a points-based class, so anything and everything helps, too! They received 5 bonus points for ANY Halloween costume, and 25 bonus points for a historical costume. Of course, the historical costume had to be relevant to the course (Western Civ I=premodern to c.1300, Western Civ II=c.1300 to present), and they had to be able to tell something about themselves. Boy did I have no idea what I was in for during class…
For Western Civ I, I got a ton of kids in togas, which I half expected. We study a lot about Rome and Greece, so there were the Marc Antonys, the Julius Caesars, the Aphrodites, a Demeter… We had Cleopatra, Muhammad, and Anubis, which was an amazing costume. Also appearing was Paul Blart: Mall Cop, a 50s poodle girl, an Eagle Scout and me, the rabid hockey fan (and I forgot to show off my Stanley Cup Finals ticket and hockey stick bottle opener on the lanyard). Below my jersey was my "Sidney Crosby Sucks" shirt, of course. Both Julius Caesars and Marc Antony gave hilarious diatribes about how they would be screwed over by the people of Rome, but you should give them their loyalty, because after all, they lead Rome, and they're awesome. I also had 2 students tell me they came as Adam & Eve, but they thought it was inappropriate to come to class naked. Nice try kids… But the best part? Telling the girls in togas that in Greece, women in togas were seen as ladies of the night. They about died. One girl aptly responded, "Well, all the pictures of Aphrodite had her in the nude, and there was NO WAY I was coming to class that way." Touche. Here's a look at the first class, which about 1/4 of the class opted to dress up.
Julius Caesar, Muhammad, Cleopatra. Floor: Anubis, Caps Hockey Fan (ME), Eagle Scout.
sudden outburst
What in the world is wrong with people? Our country? Our world?
First, Joe Wilson shouts back at President Obama during the Joint Congressional speech. Then, Kanye West takes the mic from Taylor Swift during her acceptance speech. And it seems like everywhere else, there are random complaints about how kids today don't know the proper way to socialize or conduct themselves in a classroom or in a group.
Folks, what we have here is a failure to communicate. Or even… to learn the basics of communication.
Here are a few handy, dandy ways to combat the breakdowns in communication that perhaps you might be facing*:
- Don't be a copycat.
Do not in whatsoever way, try to impersonate the British Parliament. Seriously, they're on Sunday night TV for a reason in the U.S.: it's entertainment for us. We can't do that here, so we get to watch it. They make themselves out to be downright crazed lunatics by talking to the Prime Minister in whatever form they like, and we address the President with utmost respect no matter how much we like or dislike him. Also, we don't have soldiers that can pull off the demeanor of those in England. Those are the rules. Obey them. This is the way it works. George Washington said so. - Get your facts straight.
George Bush doesn't hate black people. George Wallace did. Kanye got it completely wrong. He's blaming the wrong George. In fact, I'm pretty sure if he had blamed the correct George in the first place, this whole ordeal wouldn't have taken place, and poor Taylor Swift wouldn't have been shaking in her boots. And quite possibly, Lady Gaga wouldn't have terrified every living soul on the planet with "art." - Don't be "that guy."
You know "that guy." He's the "guy" that eternally lives on in the butt of all jokes. For example, who will ever forget Poland now? Or, who can ever mention the planet Uranus now that some person made a dirty out of it? Or, remember "that guy" who yelled out during the President's speech in 2009? Or even "that guy" who yanked the mic out of Taylor Swift's hand to declare that someone else should've received the award? See… you know exactly who I'm talking about. "That guy." - Lose the cameras and TV.
Remember when people actually read the news? And then formed their own opinion? And then remember when they stopped and all of a sudden people simply regurgitated ideas from talking heads like cows chewing on cud in the field? Yeah, me too. It's like we're living in Idiocracy, and I'm looking at the sharp decline of society.
Just a few ideas of ways that we can get back to basic forms of communication. Heck, if you'd actually make a phonecall or visit someone, it might build that communication instead of just sending a chat message, a tweet, or a Facebook message. But, of course, the Wall Street Journal is print, and print can be wrong, right? Perhaps it might not be in some cases. But still, I'm banking on print, because right now, the voices coming from the television are absolutely crazy.
Joe? Kanye?
That's what I thought.
*This is totally meant to be satire, folks… I LOVE watching the British parliament on TV, and totally respect them, and history still is unsure that George Wallace was or was not a racist in his later life. And who knows, maybe Lady Gaga's performance actually was "art."
a spot of tea
In the trend of the oldest child, I don't like to follow the mainstream at times. For the Fourth of July, and as a true historian, I was patriotic to the best of means (and not in redneck fashion). I spent the day with family, and watched "A Capitol Fourth" on PBS (where some of my government funds are best spent), and gazed into the HDTV as the fireworks exploded over the most amazing city I know: Washington, D.C. It was at that moment, upon hearing the fife and drum corps of the United States Army playing along before the National Symphony Orchestra pronounced the finale with the 1812 Overture, I felt the most patriotic I had in years. I remembered a line from the musical, "1776," when John Adams (Fee-hee-hee-heeeeny) sang about how fireworks would proclaim the birthday of the new nation that was hatching on the eve of July 4, 1776.
Of course, since I thought about the musical, days later (read: last night), I watched the movie form of it. I love how they portray the characters. Most people think they are being comical… but in historical memory and readings, it's hilarious that they are almost true to form. The playful Franklin, the uptight Adams, the thoughtful Jefferson, and of course New York who confounds us all. As soon as I finished "1776," I immediately sought out my "John Adams" series since I had Mr. Adams on the brain ("Mr. Adams, leave me aloooooone!"). And the rumblings of rebellion and murmurings of "taxation without representation" got me to thinking.
On the Fourth of July in Alabama, a small group of conservatives chose to gather to voice their opinions about taxation, and have what has been recently called "Tea Parties." Now, pardon me for just a second, if you will… pretend that you're one of those people, and maybe you are. I might like to ask you just a few questions. Do you have a representative in Congress? Can that representative speak on your districts behalf? Can your representative acquire funds for your district for road repairs and other various projects for your area and/or state? Now, my guess is that your answer to that is a yes to each of those questions, and if you were to say no, I'd challenge your answer.
These same people with refutable representatives, who ARE and have been elected by the people, DO represent the people of Alabama. However, the constituents of these elected officials are holding "tea parties" in which they claim they are being "taxed without representation." And WHY do they feel they are being taxed without representation? Because their party isn't in office.
Dear people of Alabama who don't understand this concept… let me tell you what it REALLY means. As a legal resident of the District of Columbia [yes, still... my license still states it], you should know that "taxation without representation" is not held lightly in the District. We place it on our license plates for a reason. It is the ONLY remaining area within the landlocked states that is YET to be declared a state, and has YET to be given a representative with VOTING rights on the house floor, and still has to ask Congress to do anything. We don't have a Governor, we have a Mayor… and that Mayor has very little power, since the President is just down the street. That Mayor is under the authority of the Vice President. Anything the Mayor wishes to do has to have the release of the VP and Congress. A million people live within a 6+ square mile area, and we are held to every federal tax that any other American is in the country. And yet in DC, residents also have to give way to anything federal, because it is first and foremost beyond any resident. So, fair Alabamian… if you really want to tell ME that you are taxed without representation because your party didn't get into office, be prepared for a lecture in American and DC history. Unless you've either lived in DC (or the colonies, and I'm pretty sure they've died off by now), don't you DARE tell me that you understand what it's like to be taxed unfairly. Until you can't call your congressperson and complain only to hear that person say they can't do anything because they can't speak on the floor, then get over it.
Also [if you've made it this far], should I remind you that the "Tea Party" in Boston in the colonial days were conjured up by yes, Patriots. But, in that day, they were considered liberals. They were against the ebb and flow. They were the ones strayed from the "right." So, please, for the love of history, don't destroy the beautiful imagery of what our founding father created only to saturate it with protests that don't get anything done. Children and teenagers these days need history that is passionate, and protests like the modern-day tea parties are nothing but a joke that makes history less poignant.
upended
Today is an extraordinary day in history. On April 4, 1968, social activist Martin Luther King, Jr. lost his life for the cause of civil rights and injustice. Just as he was leaving his room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee, he stopped to speak from the second-floor balcony to the crowd gathered. Moments later, a bullet shot from the gun of James Earl Ray into King's neck sparked a new unexpected dimension to the 1960s.
The previous day, King had given one of the most captivating speeches of his life, known now as the "Mountaintop" speech (Part 1 & Part 2), which had peculiar timing according to his advisors at the time. King spoke as if this time in his life was his peak, and that he had seen all the he could do. The speech itself, incredible, has King giving both his humor and his seriousness. It's perplexing to listen to on the other side of history, as if he knew that his death was upon him. As the recounting of his travels and his time in the movement and the talk of threats that were coming toward King continued to rally those gathered to listen on April 3, the actions of James Earl Ray on April 4 brought forth reactions to a divided country that took decades to heal, and in some areas, they still have not mended. As news broke of King's death on radio and through news outlets and by word of mouth, mourning began throughout the country. But far worse, riots broke out, and people lashed out on their own communities in anger, torching businesses, and destroying their towns. The pain they felt could no longer be withheld inside. Massive riots erupted in cities like Trenton, New Jersey, Baltimore, Maryland, and Washington, D.C.
In Washington, D.C., the Shaw, Columbia Heights, Petworth, H Street NE Corridor, and U Street, were historically African-American neighborhoods, despite the end of segregation. As the news spread, riots exploded in Shaw, U Street, the H Street NE Corridor, and Columbia Heights, and protests built up Georgia Avenue. The city burned brightly, and Lyndon B. Johnson nationalized the guard to protect the city from complete destruction. D.C. radio icon Petey Greene launched onto the radio and pleaded that people stay in their homes and continue the non-violent mission of MLK, no matter how angry they may be. He encouraged they call in and express their anger over the phone. He left the lines open all night.
The damage done to Washington, D.C. took years to restore. In Shaw/U Street, the only business left standing after the riots was the Ben's Chili Bowl (and everyone who works there will tell you proudly about it if it ever slows down enough to do so). The destruction caused property values to sharply decline, and racial tensions continued to separate white and black by neighborhoods. In the past decade, many of these neighborhoods have just recently been able to redevelop. U Street, with Ben's Chili Bowl as an anchor, is now a hotspot for nightlife. Columbia Heights experienced redevelopment, and now holds the only mall-like structure within the district limits, providing district residents the opportunity to shop and spend dollars within their place of residence and not in Maryland or Virginia. Many neighborhoods are still struggling to survive and put themselves back on the map, but they are determined not to fail.
King said:
One of the great liabilities of history is that all too many people fail to remain awake through great periods of social change. But today our very survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to remain vigilant, and face the challenge of change.
The spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr. is continually alive and well in the city of Washington, D.C. As King pushed on in his darkest of days, so has D.C. The district has its limitations and its failures, but it has its successes and prospects to launch it into more than just the nation's capital. The district and its residents have continued for more than 40 years to rebuild and redevelop the city to its former and new glory. The city has more to offer than just the federal government, and the people here are committed to prove it.
traveling year
In talking with my friend Wade a while back over coffee (well, my coffee and his Diet Coke), I faced a question that I am usually able to dodge: what do I see myself able to do within the next 6 months? And not necessarily work-wise, but personally… What do I want to do in 6 months? It took me some time to think, mainly because I never think long-term, and I usually don't like to think about things that I want to do. I tend to always want to do and plan for others.
So, I was challenged to begin thinking about what I wanted to do, and one of the things that came up was travel. Because I'm completely geeked out on history, there are a few cities on my list that I have never visited, and I want to see for historical purposes: Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Pittsburgh, and Detroit. I know, I know… some of those cities, I should've already visited as a history nerd, so sue me. But, I've had fiscal limitations. By the time you add up the transportation, hotel, food, etc., it gets costly! Fortunately, I have a friend in Chicago, so that makes it a little easier. And today, I found out that my cousin is moving to Philadelphia! So now, I have another resource for a visit!!
I have no problem doing the travel alone, because I can see what I want when I want (ask SassyBlonde when I ran amok in the city during my visits before I moved the first time to D.C.). But, the sketchiness comes in when you have to look at inexpensive places to stay for hotels or hostels. And, while I pretty much live in an area that most people in D.C. won't visit past 5 p.m., I still don't want to push it while I'm visiting an area that I'm not familiar with.
Now I need to befriend some Bostonians (God help me with the accents), and some folks in Pitt and Detroit. Of course, I've been through Detroit's airport, but that doesn't count. Off to befriend total strangers and make them my best friends so I can stay with them for visits… well, tomorrow and thereafter.
resonant conversations
Today, I went down to Eastern Market with some friends, just for an opportunity to socialize. While I was the slowpoke who barely made it down to grace their presence, I did get to walk around with them for a few moments before they departed back for the 'burbs of Virginia. Then, as I made my way back toward my car, I decided to browse through some of the artisans' tents and make the best of my few hours out of the house, since I had been stuck inside it sick for almost two weeks now. As I browsed through jewelry, clothing, and art, I appreciated the work that went into each piece.
Moe than the handiwork, though, some artisans took the time to connect with the people browsing in their space. Beginning questions of their work turned into deeper questions on life and passion. One painter, a man originally from northeastern Tennessee, painted vivid scenes of D.C. neighborhoods. We talked about the South, and about the small neighborhoods from which we came, and how they differed from the life and speed of the world of D.C. And people say there are no southerners here…
Another vendor, a printmaker, who originally hailed from Russia, picked up on my accent and asked me about it. I told him that I was from Alabama, and he began asking me how the state felt about politics, democracy, and Obama. He moved from Russia straight to D.C. just a few years ago. He explained that he had such a difficult time understanding how some regions could have such a political stronghold and not be swayed. However, I told him that he couldn't simply single out the South in his judgments about political strongholds. He asked about racism, and I again told him that the South alone was not guilty in the stereotypes. I explained to him that the racism that exists continues because it is often passed down through families, and it is more than just black and white. I told him that it is a problem that is more than just a recent occurence. He asked very innocently about how the country can begin to move beyond racism and coexist peacefully. I told him that to me, love is the only way that I know how. He thanked me for my answers, and gave me a small traditional Russian Orthodox print in appreciation for spending time with him.
A few moments later, I went and stopped by another vendor of an artist who painted abstracts of D.C. The artist's girlfriend was in the booth. I saw a painting that I loved, and decided that I wanted it for myself, because I couldn't turn it down. Also, because while I was in the booth and talking with her for a few moments, I noticed her book about linguistics and asked her if she was in school. She is currently working on her Ph.D. We began discussing grad school, and I told her of my hopes to study history and write a specific local history of D.C. When I told her that, she slashed the price of the piece I told her I was buying. But, her conversation about her experiences in grad school and how she has enjoyed studying and research will stick with me. And, I'll enjoy the great print that I didn't have to haggle, and it already has a perfect place on my wall.
All of these conversations help me to realize that it's such an amazingly strange and beautiful world, full of wonder, and full of confusion. I like the thought that each day, we are all a piece of each person's puzzle. And each person today fit perfectly into my puzzle. Every conversation helped me to reaffirm who I am, who I want to be, and who I have always been. Everyone has a story… and everyone's stories are intertwined. It's one of the essential tools I carry as a southerner: storytelling (and storygathering). I wish I was better at storytelling most of the time. But, I love listening to the stories of people and where they have been and what people have done. And without people to make conversation, with whom can we share our stories?
There's a song from Brandi Carlile, called "The Story," that has the most incredible lyrics that fit right into my day:
All of these lines across my face
Tell you the story of who I am
So many stories of where I've been
And how I got to where I am
But these stories don't mean anything
When you've got no one to tell them to.
There is so much more that I don't know out in the world, and I need some of these resonant conversations in order to gain insight into my own soul, and to motivate me toward my own personal greatness (which, isn't to say that it's all that great, but it's a personal best). I definitely cherish many conversations that I have, and log them away into the depths of my soul. They help me become more alive than I could ever imagined.
retro-introspection
Now that the Board Meeting at work is over, and my life is back to some version of normal (or something like that), I've been given a few more moments to think about my own life (shock, right?!). As soon as I got back on Sunday, I finally had the chance to process the news of rejection letters from the doctoral program to which I applied (this year, only one… last year, eight). I had received the news before I left for the Board Meeting, but I refused to inform anyone I knew (except for my family), because I knew that everyone would issue regrets and try to console me. At their attempts of consolation, I knew that I would probably break down because of the Board Meeting stress, so I just withheld it until after the meeting. In fact, a coworker was surprised that I had held the secret the entire time until we were on the plane back to D.C. when she brought up that I'd be hearing soon about school. And, because I'm awesome at hiding my feelings when surrounded by hundreds of strangers, I was quickly able to brush off with a joke and move on to a funny picture in Sky Mall.
Everything about what I would now not be doing really hit on Sunday night after I had a bit of rest… it was kind of like a gut punch to the stomach. Combined with the exhaustion, it's probably why the virus that I'm suffering from right now was able to complete knock me out. And, yeah, the news, it sucks. However, I refuse to let it keep me down and make me a pessimist.
I met with a good friend for dinner right before I went to Board Meeting, and he shared with me his planning tool: a 10-10-10 (10 weeks, 10 months, 10 years). So, in my downtime, I'm working on my own 10-10-10, which is odd for me, because I've never been the kind of person to make timed long-term personal goals for myself. I like to plan for the week, and things that are coming up for work and social events, but not personal goals. So, this is really a first for me. And, I won't lie, it's a little challenging. I feel a little vain and conceited thinking that I should be so awesome as to complete X & Y by year A or B. But, I'm determined to start thinking that way. And while I do have a Bucket List/wishlist of things that I want to do before I die, I think of those in a totally different way. Now my feet are to the fire with these goals.
I am also having to work on another life plan in a sort of way. It brings me back around to the question that I asked myself in high school and in college of what I really want to do in life, and if I will really be happy doing that, or will I be happy just getting a paycheck as long as I like where I am and enjoy the atmosphere. Should I be happy to have a job and stick to it (and most Americans right now I'm sure would say yes to this)? Or should I take that leap of faith and really go after what I want to do? It's a complete reversal on what I expected that I would be doing as I am approaching my 30th birthday (even more rapidly than I expected).
I guess viruses can be sheep in wolves clothing sometime (you read that right). While they are horrible and leave you on your back, they leave you with time for reflection and introspection, or even a retro-introspection. It has been good to have the time to think and to wonder about what can, might, or will happen, but I can also overthink and overanalyze, or even just boggle my own mind. It's good to have a few good friends that jump in and ask the right questions to help you work your way out of your own maze of the mind and get you back on track. It's also strange to me that I have to reflect and think back as far back as I have just to get to the point that I can start on my plans again. Who knew I had gotten so far along without thinking about what I wanted for so long? Not my parents, friends, or professors. Crazy, isn't it?
At this point, there are still so many questions that still don't have answers. But, I do know that I have a greater sense of peace because of the time that I have had to consider life plans and options instead of feeling rushed to make decisions. And, at this point, no matter what, I will consult my plans and my 10-10-10 to see how to map out what I'm doing and if it makes sense toward a final goal. If it doesn't, I will hope money starts growing on trees, or that I've bagged Nelly or George Clooney as a boyfriend!
wordsmithing
I'm taking back an old habit that I once had before: reading. While I don't have the wealth of time that I did when I was a full time graduate student (of course, then, it was my "job" to read), I still enjoy the time that I get to escape into the author's creative center. One of my favorite authors to read is Sarah Vowell. She has a way of writing that continually pulls me in and I can't put the book down… unless of course, it's almost 1am, and I'm about to fall asleep because of how long my day has been. But, that's not the point.
Sarah Vowell tends to take on political and historical topics with a twist. Lately, she has trended toward historical topics, which as a history geek, I'm all over. Her last book, Assassination Vacation, was absolutely hysterical, and it made me want to jump in my car and start road-tripping to see dead president's graves, a task which I've already taken up (Kennedy, Taft, A. Johnson = check). Last spring, one of my graduate reading seminars focused on the factors leading into the American Revolution. Sarah Vowell's newest book, The Wordy Shipmates, focuses on the journey of the early pilgrims, the leadership of John Winthrop, and the beginnings of the Plymouth/Massachusetts Bay Colony.
If you've ever heard Vowell on This American Life on NPR, then you're familiar with her style. She's quirky, snarky, and incredibly intelligent. And most of my guy friends who have a brain can tell you that they'd love to date her, or even marry her. Hence, I'd say, I'd love to be her, too. Again, that wasn't the point I was going to make, but she's amazing, nonetheless. Take for example two excerpts from the book:
…Lincoln, early on in the Civil War, called for saving the Union because it was the 'last best hope of earth.' That was the speech in which Lincoln pointed out 'we cannot escape history.' Well, we can't. …[W]hat happened at Abu Ghraib is sickening, not only because it's just plain sickening but because America is supposed to be better than that. No: best. I hate to admit it, but I still believe that, too. Because even though my head tells me that the idea that America was chosen by God as His righteous city on a hill is ridiculous, my heart still buys into it…. Why is America the last best hope of Earth? What if it's Liechtenstein? Or, worse, Canada? …[WInthrop said] The eyes of all people are upon us. And all they see is a mash-up of naked prisoners and an American girl in fatigues standing there giving a thumbs-up. As I write this, the United States of America is still a city on a hill; and it's still shining–because we never turn off the lights in our torture prisons. That's how we carry out the sleep deprivation.
Or, another excerpt…
In terms of historical tourism, the Pilgrims of 1620 get all the glory. Families, my own included, plan vacations around visiting Plymouth's Mayflower II and 'Plimouth Plantation,' the re-created colonial English and Wampanoag village on the outskirts of town. My sister Amy, my then seven-year-old nephew Owen, and I visited it one summer. It is peopled by actors who will not, under any circumstances, break character–not even when Owen suggested they could really spruce up their cramped little houses by shopping at Home Depot or maybe even Lowe's because Lowe's offers 'everyday low prices.' …We then made the acquaintance of one Englishman Amy dubbed the 'Pilgrim Archie Bunker.' We had just ambled through the Wampanoag village and watched a woman cooking with a clay pot, so Owen had indigenous people on his mind. He told Archie about his collection of Hopi and Navajo kachina dolls he started the previous summer when we went to the Grand Canyon. After an annoying back-and-forth in which Archie determined we apparently came from New Spain and were therefore suspected of Catholicism, we returned to the subject of kachinas. Archie backed away from Owen and asked if if they were poppets. No, Owen said, 'Not puppets–wood carvings.' I told him a poppet is a doll used in witchcraft. 'You know, like when Scooby Doo goes to Salem.' Owen shook his head at Archie and said, 'Kachinas are gods, Hopi and Navajo gods.' Archie poined his finger at Owen's chest and raised his voice, 'Not the true God Jesus Christ!' Then he told Owen he's never shot an Indian personally but he wouldn't lose any sleep over it if he did, and that he would trade with the Indians, though he would never give them anything of value, perhaps 'a pot that was full of holes.' Then my sister grabbed Owen by the arm and said, 'Come on, Owen. Let's get out of here before Mama punches a Pilgrim.
Reading Sarah Vowell gives me a little more hope in the world. With my snarky, sarcastic background, mixed with a passion for history and politics, it's nice to know that there is someone out there who absolutely gets it 100% in writing, and can do it well.
But, dang it Sarah, you beat me to it. Now I have to find another dream to dream…
whoops-a-daisy
Dang. It's February. That happened really, really fast. I have absolutely no idea where January went. I mean, I have some idea because of everything that was going on, but man, if it didn't fly by and disappear.
Today is Groundhog Day. And, lucky for me, Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow. Apparently, there's snow coming into the D.C. metro area for the next few days. Secretly, I'm hoping for tons of it and a snowday. Don't hate me. I'm a displaced southerner who had little snow as a child. I'm just making up for what I didn't have. Sure, I should more farther north where they have more snow, but then it's colder, and my southern skin can't take the frigid temps. Besides, I still like having a summer too.
I've been really bad about updating. It's my intention to be much better about it, especially because I've been really lax about reading and "historicizing" lately (Yeah, if "W" and Harding can make up words, why can't mainstream America?). But, that is soon to change.
Things have been busy over here, getting ready for a ton of stuff. If you missed it, the Inauguration of President Barack Obama happened. Being in the nation's capital, it made perfect sense to be a part of the ceremony, so I did… from my couch. Unfortunately, I fell pretty ill (hello bronchitis and a double ear infection) that weekend and spend the entire week at home and living on water, meds, and sleep. But, all is much better now. Unfortunately, that was a week of January, and then it seemed like the rest of the month just slipped out the door unnoticed.
There are lots of things on the verge of happening here, though. I am amidst edits of an article for publication in the Vulcan Historical Review. My paper, "Buildup and Base Development: The Impact of Urban Warfare on the City of Saigon," was accepted for the 2009 VHR. I'm pretty excited… it'll be my second published piece, but my first MAJOR published piece (the first was a film review). Hopefully this will help in my quest for the Ph.D. Who knows… we shall see.
Other than that, lots of reading, and hopefully some interesting thoughts will show back up here, and some funny stories. I've been terrible about using Twitter as my little outlet instead of the blog. But, 140 characters isn't always enough to tell the story.
Until next time… And yes, I probably owe you 10 minutes of your life back for this post. Why don't you tell me how I should waste 10 minutes of my time for payback?
