I made a decision yesterday, thinking that I could fix some of the problems we were facing. The situation blew up in my face. And now I feel as if I've cut off my arm. I wanted to take some time, gain some focus, and make things better. You wouldn't have any of it.

I need you still, but the past weeks have been hard. Something has been not-quite-right between us for quite a while. Talking didn't work. Nor did therapy. And in the end, all I got was screaming every time I would talk to you. I tried; I failed. I wanted to do what was best for both of us, but you only want to see what's best for you. You took my decision at face value, when in fact it contained many nuances. I was not feeling needed, let alone wanted. I wanted to make things right, but now everything is so very wrong.

This is the worst time of year for me with work. Finals week is always hectic, especially after the long trudge through the spring. It's like the last mile of a marathon. I'm over stressed, overworked, underpaid, and the interpersonal difficulties we were facing were slowly pushing me over the edge. I snapped. And now I've got to live with my decision.

All I have left is regret.

UPDATE (4/28): I take it all back. You apparently can't be consistent either in what you say or what you do--let alone what you want.

Following the aftermath at Virginia Tech, every right-wing nutjob is lining up to support removal of restrictions on gun purchases. The argument is that if one of the people who was there was carrying a concealed weapon (which, on a college campus is a violation of Virginia law) then someone could have taken out the armed assailant prior to the body count reaching what it was. Of course, they never quite finish the argument, but usually leave it hanging. 'Who knows what would have happened if . . .' But playing in a counterfactual world is not an argument. Two can play, I imagine: what if one of the armed people had accidentally shot an innocent person? Or perhaps, better yet: what if the laws were amended such that the assailant could never have purchased the gun in the first place? In fact, they were--there is legal precedent.

Not to let the facts get in the way of a good story, but the guns used were purchased legally. In fact, the clips used were banned under the Clinton administration; when Bush let the assault weapons ban lapse, that permitted the sale of the tolls that led to this horrific event. That seems to point to the fact that more, not less restrictions on guns could have stopped this. Further, the second amendment is not an absolute like some of the others (hell, even the first amendment has restrictions). It is the only provision in the bill of Rights which clearly mentions regulation. Further, the founders in their days of muskets could not have foreseen the AK-47's and M-16's that currently are brandished (presumably to shoot a deer). So, not only do these yahoos have to ignore fact, they have to ignore the letter and spirit of the Constitution itself in order to push their agenda.

A modest proposal: the only gun that can be purchased legally is a musket. This way, the far-right's anachronistic interpretation of the Constitution is placed back in its proper context. The 30-second reload time will certainly serve as a deterrent to mass murder. And with my legal musket, I propose our first victim should be Charleton Heston. From your cold dead hands, indeed.

R.I.P. Kurt Vonnegut. He was no Tom Robbins, but certainly one of the best in the last half of the twentieth century. In honor, I've decided to re-read as much as possible over my May break.

Sure beats writing, anyway.

Of all the institutions to whom I applied, most didn't even give me the chance. The exceptions being Hamline University (a first chance, but not a second) and St. Ambrose University (who seemed very interested, but now the chair won't respond to my emails). Even though those departments crushed my hopes, they did give me chance and that is to be commended--even though they did cast me aside like month-old leftovers.

A special "to hell with you" goes to the following departments who didn't even bother to send a rejection letter:

Forham University
Marquette University
Iona College
Bethune-Cookman College
Stonehill College
Hamilton College

Of these, the most eggregious offender is Marquette, who emailed me immediately when they thought my application was incomplete; the letters of recommendation arrived the next day, and that was the last I heard from them. I guess they were just looking for a way to exclude me.

And to all those departments I applied: you lost not only a great teacher but a promising philosophical talent. You'll all see the error of your ways it in a decade or so--

UPDATE (4/11): The top candidate has accepted the offer from St. Ambrose. In what can only be described as cosmic irony (or, perhaps more dysphemistically, the universe fucking with me) the guy turns out to be a James scholar. I'm teaching "The Will to Believe" on Monday, and I'm gonna tear it up--

Still waiting to hear back from Iowa, and I'm a bundle of nerves. I keep checking my email every few hours, hoping that an early decision was made.

I want to get the job. I want to be 'that guy' that defied the odds of the market. Usually people apply to 75-100 jobs; I applied to twelve. Usually people spend months putting together their application packet; I decided to apply late, and slapped it together in a few weeks. Usually people have several interviews, and their first job is a temporary position; I'm up for a tenure-track position. If I get the job, I'm defying every unwritten law of the market.

If I don't get the job, I'll be fine. The department wants to keep me on (because I rock) and I have adjunct work lined up for next year. The dissertation will have to be defended before I leave, rather than taking my time and doing a bang-up job (and maybe pulling a few publications out of it). And then there's the whole N. thing--she's made it clear that she's not going with me.

Either way I'll be fine. It's the uncertainty that's killing me.

UPDATE (4/3): Iowa said that they're making an offer to another candidate. While that candidate may still not accept, and thus I may still be offered the job, the chances are good this late in the game that it will not be. So, it seems I'm in for another year of bustin' my hump here in Florida for no money.