Amidst it all, I find myself disturbed by the ideological divide that seems to be springing up around one of my professors: my Keats/collab professor.

As you may recall, I was frustrated with him a lot last semester, when he would keep us for three hour lectures, and sometimes even later, without any break. And towards the end of this semester, when he started making creative decisions about our collaborations chapbook, I was frustrated as well. But there's a large contingent of students that idolizes him, and seems to take criticism of this particular professor as an affront against poetry or something.

He's one of the people whose salary is being cut, although he plans to stay on the faculty. And there seems to be a sentiment that some of us haven't been doing enough to fight for him. I feel like I am being misunderstood in a big way, because although we have our differences, I do respect him and feel like he deserves a fair shake. But my fighting for another professor seems to have been taken as an attack against this guy, which I never intended.

It's complicated. Lord, is it ever complicated. I could go on and on.

My main problem is that his teaching style and my learning style do not seem to be as compatible as others. I consider this par for the course in the academic world, but in this case, it causes me to be viewed as somehow a lesser poet or scholar. Some of the students at my school are very big on his reputation, and think this should automatically garner him more respect than I've been willing to give him.

It's hard for me to defend myself because in some ways, I feel I have not given him the respect he deserves. But on the other hand, I can't apologize for my frustration at times, because it's legitimate, and I'm entitled to it. I have e-mailed one of my friends to try and clear up some misunderstandings, and I hope to get things straightened out soon.

I certainly want this professor to stick around. I think next semester's class could be great (on Ezra Pound) and I want another chance to give him another chance. Right now, it's all a big old mess.

I have a bunch of snippets of conversations in my head, from conversations I've had with Probst recently. In the interest of exorcising my brain...

ME
There are about a million spiders in my bathroom. Will you kill them for me?

PROBST
They will not harm you.

ME
Okay, then, can you move them outside or something?

PROBST
Okay, but I expect to be rewarded for my efforts.

ME
Really. And what kind of reward were you expecting?

PROBST
Well, when the conquering hero returns from battle, he usually gets the girl.

PROBST
Are you getting up?

ME
I'm working on it. I'm trying to overcome my inertia. You see, a Mo at rest tends to stay at rest. And a Mo in motion tends to stay in motion.

PROBST
Actually, a Mo in motion tends to slow down and stop.

PROBST
My priorities in life are: one, poetry. Two, friends. And three, TV shows.

ME
Oh my god, mine too!

PROBST
I really want to live someplace where I can have a cat.

ME
Yeah...

PROBST
Although I would be perfectly happy with a giraffe. Or a musk ox.

PROBST
Well, I hope I'll be able to see you sometime this week.

ME
Really? How cute! It's as if you really like me!

PROBST
You're... really not getting this at all, are you?

"I’m still in the euphoric state that comes with coming home. (Or maybe it’s just the afterglow of being thoroughly and resoundingly fucked. Hey, there’s really no other way to put it-- if you’re ever wondering what the payoff is for two weeks of absentia, I’m here to tell you that it’s like winning the lotto of sex.)"