Mysti,
glad you are still pushing on with your dissertation.
all the best,
Melody
From: Leeann M Rudd <Mysti.Rudd@xxxxxxxxxxx> Reply-To: comptesol@xxxxxxxxxxxxx To: comptesol@xxxxxxxxxxxxx Subject: Re: mysti's dirty dissertation dream Date: Sun, 02 Jul 2006 17:23:16 -0500
and by dirty i mean dirt--the red kind that blows around the high plains of the panhandle of texas, lodging between your teeth, your nostrils, your dreams.
You'll be pleased to know that I have found the ultimate efficient way of communicating with one's dissertation director: by dream. yep, good ol mark was in my dream last night, in his beautiful three-windowed office on the third floor of sutton. anyway, he told me i need to interview country-western singer songwriters in order to explore the role of imagination in the creation of text, and that my big D wouldn't be complete unless I interviewed "the Big One". But he didn't tell me who it was. So does anyone want to venture a guess--my first thought was Willie Nelson--but he could just as easily have meant Dolly Parton. And, of course, whomever he meant is a stand in for whom I'm really supposed to interview--maybe someone who actually knows something about retention--like vincent tinto, or someone who looks like willie (with braids and all)--or someone who shares his initials--W.N.
I wish I could say that I've been reading so much theory that i've gone half crazy. (well I could say it, but it wouldn't be true.) But apparently i spend my waking time in order to dream (Anyone who's ever read Dorothy Bryant's "The Kin of Ata Are Waiting for You" will know what i mean by this). But remember, a dream is what led me to my dissertation director in the first place, so why can't we communicate via dream sequences? it's even more efficient than e-mail--especially when i gotta drive ten miles to find a wireless coffee shop in order to gain internet access.
Tomorrow i drive 700 miles from amarillo to beaumont, after i take shorty and kiva to the airport at 6 am. I will sing nearly half the way, trying not to fall asleep, and when I think I can 't take it anymore, I'll turn on the seat heater and primal scream about all the ducks in my life that just won't line up.
Wish me luck. anyone who wants to call me will be paid 10 cents a minute.
Mysti -----
From: Natalie Dorfeld <natalie_dorfeld@xxxxxxxxxxx> Reply-To: comptesol@xxxxxxxxxxxxx To: comptesol@xxxxxxxxxxxxx Subject: Re: Mysti's Last, Last, Last Idea is a Poem Date: Fri, 30 Jun 2006 10:50:18 +0000
Hola, M --
Sweet poem. I?ve been reading a lot of Billy Collins lately.
Your book, Cunt, sounds very interesting. I?m sure it would make a for a great coffee table centerpiece.
Incidentally, my initial dissertation title was going to be ?The Bastardization of Academia,? or ?I am an Academic Prostitute.? Sadly, my director said those weren?t appropriate. Oh, man.
Off to swim all day. What revisions?
-- Natzo