People are also going through kiwi withdrawal. Look, I had the same kiwi picture up there for three years. I know change is difficult, but work with me here, people. I will email you the kiwi picture if you miss it that much. You can look at it every so often and wean yourself slowly.

I met with my professor this morning about my thesis. I overslept and was late, but he forgot to bring the manuscript with him, so we called it even. We are both slackers. Without the poems, to look at, the meeting was somewhat unsatisfying, although I always enjoy our conversations. We mostly talked about other things.

He did say that the manuscript is almost there, and should be done by the time the semester is over. (In other words, he's not recommending thesis maintenance. Which is good, because if I had to dick around with my thesis for one more semester before I could graduate, I'd have a fit.)

He also cut approximately ten pieces out, of it on the grounds that they weren't as strong, or that they didn't fit in as well. The ones he mentioned, I agree with. (For instance, I love the Pagoda poem, but it has absolutely nothing to do with anything.) I look forward to seeing what else he cut, or commented on. I know his written comments will be helpful.

Now he's working on something for the school website, featuring some of the students, their writing, and their thoughts on the program. He asked me to participate in this thing, and I said I would. So today, he asked me some of my thoughts on the program. I guess I wasn't very eloquent, because he suggested after a few minutes that I write it down instead. Sigh.

Well, it will probably help just to collect my thoughts. What he is after is advertising for the program. "The bottom line is: Would you feel comfortable recommending this program?" I didn't know what to tell him.

My experience has been largely positive, and I told him so. Working on the literary magazine was wonderful, although in retrospect, there are things I would have done differently in terms of the final product. The Three Women Modernists class was probably my favorite class all told (or maybe it's tolled, that makes more sense) but I also loved Collaborations, Shakespeare, Pound, Dickinson, and Experiments in Poetic Form. And even my art class, although I remain very bitter about the A- I got in it.

But the school has problems, the faculty is bitter and most of them are in poor health, and the political and administrative scuffles have been a real source of stress. For a while, we weren't sure if the program would even be around this year. Teachers were badmouthing each other, fighting with students-- it was not a good scene.

Professor P. said the real question is whether I trust the faculty to keep strengthening the program, and I said, "It's not a question of trusting the faculty. I trust you guys, absolutely. But I've seen the administration working against you for two years, cutting your budgets and so on, and I can't dismiss that."

Not what he wanted to hear, let me tell you.

They have a new faculty member coming next semester, a woman who's been at Rutgers, with top-notch qualifications. They are working on getting some sort of literary magazine back on track, since it's a huge draw for prospective students. I'm optimistic about the program's future, and sorry I won't be around to see what the new faculty member is like. (I hope that if I am still in the area next semester, which in all likelihood I will be, I will get a chance to meet with her, maybe even sit in on a class or two.)

So now I have to figure out something to say that is true to my experience and not disingenuous in terms of the face it presents to prospective students. And it probably should be positive at the same time; if its not, they'll just edit out the bad stuff anyway, and who can blame them? It's supposed to be advertising, is it not?

It all depends, really. On the caliber of new students, for one thing, and on this new faculty person, how much new life she's capable of breathing into the program. This semester I am feeling glad to be gone-- one of the new students is a real little prick, and I'm glad I don't have to listen to his bullshit for two more years.

I would do it all over again in a second, but until the program is more stable, I don't know if I'd recommend it. On the other hand, if we don't sell the program, we're never going to get the kind of students who will help to make it great, and the kind of enrollment that will help us re-fund the literary magazine and other such wonderfulness.

Oh, I don't know. I had a good time, and I improved my craft, and I learned a lot. So much depends on what you make of it-- the connections you forge, the effort you put into learning. I guess this is true of any school.

You see how I can't create any sort of cogent synthesis of all this? I have no idea what to say about the whole thing. And so it begins-- the process of processing. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times? Hmm. Maybe.

Remember how my car was an impulse buy? I never even really got a spiel about the features. It wasn't until I actually began driving the thing that I figured out what the hell the car does. It's true. Hey, I have cruise control! Check it out, it has a cup holder in the back! Yes, I am ashamed.

Today I let one of my co-workers drive my car. She hasn't got her license yet, but she's been practicing on her permit. While we were parked, she was working on getting the mirrors adjusted and kept hitting weird buttons, and finally opened the door at the wrong moment and the lights started flashing and the horn started beeping.

I sat there for a second, startled, and then said, "I have an alarm?!?"

This is getting embarrassing.