Next stop Mongolia

For a while I didn't have a suitable contingency to my Plan. I think I spit out something about drinking a bunch, predictably. Well here's some shit: if things don't work out, I'm going to Mongolia. There. There it is.

I like this new idea so much, in fact, that I may not even send out grad school applications - saying, naturally, that I did - and come August I'm going to tell everyone, perversely, that I got in and I'm off to Academe. (I'll probably choose one of the more unlikely schools: MIT, Stanford...)

I know that recently a good idea was floated about getting a big house with all our friends, raising chickens and playing music, a lovely idea to be sure. But if that house isn't in fucking Mongolia I'm not going to be living in it.

Chronicle of My Failures: The Big Day

Tomorrow is the big day. I have promised to fail as a member of society, and even made a plan to do so, but I can't fail if I don't try. So tomorrow I'm getting up early and initiating the Plan. Usually when I'm determined to do this, I end up sleeping all day. Let's see what happens!

First, call the grad schools. Success here is the most desirable outcome, that's why it's first. I went to UMD, graduated, and feel like they at least owe me an apology for not telling me I should've applied to grad schools then, or at least warned me that "linguistics jobs" don't exist. So they get the first phone call and possibly several e-mails. I'm going to have to wave a wand to make a writing sample appear, I won't be getting any recommendations, and I'm definitely not taking the GREs. It's going to be hard to convey these things to these serious people, but I have a good feeling about it.

There are several other area schools I'll be contacting. At the bottom of the list is Gallaudet, the oldest liberal arts institution for deaf people. It's at the bottom of the list, not because I'm "audist," but because I don't know sign language so I'm not sure if this is a reasonable option. But I wrote some articles long ago that some of the students seemed to like, so maybe I'm in.

After this slog through phone calls and e-mails and disappointments of varying intensity, I'll try and find a job. I have four candidates from the want ads:

1. Server / dishwasher
2. Cashier
3. Bank teller (P/T)
4. Secretary

Cool, they don't require resumes and I can just charm them over the phone with my euphonious voice, hurtling the application process and landing myself square in front of a cash register / sink / etc. They won't know what hit them!

The Plan

In my first post, if you care, it seems I promised a more biographical element to my Blog. I've been avoiding that, perhaps. But now it's down to it - I've run out of work, and reading mystery novels doesn't seem to produce a paycheck. So, on Monday, I'm gonna put on my good shoes and thrust myself into society. The plan is twofold.

One: call grad schools. Beg them to take me. I have a full-on degree, I should be able to get into a fucking graduate program. Arsenii tells me in Belarus they call your college degree your "life boat." Well, I've been saying I don't have one on job applications - it seems to be more like cement boots. But my understanding is that advanced programs actually want you to have a Bachelor's before applying. So, can't lose?

Two: job. Shit job. Anything. Except I don't have any references, I have a terrible work history, and I refuse to fill out an application or write a resume. I don't hold out a lot of hope for this phase of the plan.

Contingency: savings. I have these. I am going to spend them on booze until they run out then I'm going to jump off of something very tall.

I'm happy to take bets on the Plan or its separate components.

My weight problem

I've spent a long time cultivating a good, unhealthy body image. This is important as sometimes it makes me reconsider making bad choices. I mean, not like I'm going to quit smoking or drinking until I puke anytime soon. Even though sometimes I shake in the morning. And although recent reports describe me as "mean" when I'm drunk, I was blacked out for the episodes in question, which nullifies them.

But anyway, I have a weight problem. Not the regular kind. I set out about two months ago to gain weight, and instead it has plummeted. For a little while I was watching the scale tick up, ever so slowly, but those pounds have vanished and they've taken some others with them. Here's the chart:



No, I didn't lose a limb there in that last part. Is it cancer? Do I need to drink more? I'm not a doctor but there is a strong case to be made, based on the chart, that I'm going to disappear sometime in November!

Welcome!

If you've come here, you've entered a black hole. Are you ready to explore this horrid darkness, this unending sadness?

Great! Not that it matters. You can't escape a black hole. Fucking light can't even escape. Thor himself couldn't hammer his way out of this shit.

Here's the gist. If I don't figure out how to be a normal person ASAP, that's it for me. I'm gonna hop right off the event horizon. There was school, then more school, friends, lots of friends (they're still there, but I mean, they've all moved away so we patiently await their return). Jobs. Various jobs. Now there's not, and I don't know why.

So, at 26 I'm going to retrain myself to be a member of society. I expect our adventure to be largely comical, though the fallout from my failure might be otherwise. Along the way, we'll talk about books, movies, and the weird things people say with their mouths, and I expect us to have a good time. You'll need a bottle of whiskey and a hard heart to start, so strap on your space suit.