Date: 2009-11-15 01:46 Subject: I have no home south of here Security: Public Location: St. Paul

Moments appear sporadically to remind me how much better my life is for having left Arkansas. Last winter I sat in the back seat of a friend's car on the way to Ikea and looked out my window at the snow-draped city perched serenely on the riverbank. All around me were familiar laughs and silences. Newness overcame me; I felt alive.

Tonight again I felt that way. In my previous life as a miserable teacher, what little joy I had came usually in the morning on my way to work. For half an hour each morning, I had no concern but to drive my wretched little car and sing popular songs at the top of my lungs. A few CDs were on regular rotation: Sufjan Stevens's Illinoise, Deerhoof's The Runner's Four, and The Fiery Furnaces' Widow City. When I hear these albums now, I remember happy little times in the midst of agony.

Tonight I saw that joy expanded. Well-rested, fed, and content, I mounted my bicycle and rode a cool two miles to the Turf Club in St. Paul. I met friends there, shared beer, and sat stunned as the Fiery Furnaces took the stage. Song after song brought scenes of cotton fields to my mind's eye, and each scene passed its urgency to the vitality of the present. I contrasted situations. Where before I found brief, solitary refuge in the same stale recording, stifling in a dusty car, tonight I felt contentment give way to exuberance, laughing in the company of friends as the Fiery Furnaces played new versions of familiar songs at higher tempos and higher volumes. When it was over, I hopped back on my bicycle and rode home through the mid-November chill. It was 31 degrees, what we in Minnesota call "brisk". After a few blocks, the blood in my legs began to warm. My cat welcomed me home.

What a world I'm living in! What a time I'm having here!

Date: 2009-10-04 07:12 Subject: One test/$150 down Security: Public

Well, I never have to take that test again. I sat for the GRE General Exam--the equivalent of the SAT for graduate school--yesterday, and I did pretty well. I scored a "perfect" 800 in quantitative reasoning, and I placed in the 90th percentile for the verbal section. (I'll hear my analytical writing scores in a month or so, after a real human being grades them.)

These numbers sound great, but they probably reflect less on my intelligence than on the ridiculousness of the exam itself. "Quantitative reasoning" means "Algebra I and a little Geometry", so my score here was a foregone conclusion. The 800 just says I'm ready for math classes typically offered to juniors and seniors in high school, but if I scored anything less than 800, selection committees would have wondered why. This is an entrance exam for graduate level study. It's unclear why they test at such a pitifully low level.

The verbal section isn't much better. The difficult questions are analogies and antonyms, which measure vocabulary alone. It's possible, too, to gain an edge on questions you couldn't normally answer using techniques outlined in (costly) test-preparation books. By studying vocabulary and learning how to take the test, you can easily increase your score by 100 points or more. As aporiae put it, your score mostly tells committees how much time you had available to study. Thankfully, I had plenty of time on my hands before I went back to work a month ago, so I did pretty well.

I shouldn't complain too much, as these scores look great on my record and may help get me some serious $$$ when assistantship/fellowship offers come around next spring. The whole affair is utterly ridiculous, though. The only score that really matters here is quantitative reasoning, and my high school education ensured I'd ace that section. The other numbers mostly say, "He speaks English pretty well." How much do selection committees care about that? Given the huge number of foreign-language speakers in mathematics programs, I'd guess "not much".

Given the uselessness of the scores, I wonder why I had to bother taking the exam at all. Selection committees get almost no valuable data from it. Why do they bother requiring the GRE at all, then? I can't say, unless it's a school-wide requirement for all graduate programs. In that case, you'd think math departments would make no bones about telling applicants they don't care about the general scores. Some do, but most are silent on the issue. Personally, I feel like I've just given ETS $150 and four hours of my time for no practical reason at all.

Date: 2009-07-05 22:31 Subject: Fractions Security: Public

I'm unemployed now, with time on my hands. To make it pass and do some good, too, I'm volunteering as a math tutor at a local high school's summer session.

The students are the best part. Some are crafty and cantankerous, others shy and withdrawn. Forming little relationships with them is the best part of my day.

One of my favorite characters is an autistic eighth-grader named B*. His way of understanding others' words is to assume that everything is meant literally. Metaphors are lost on the boy, in other words.

This has taken some adjustment on my part. The other day, for instance, students were dividing fractions as part of solving equations. I'd just come from helping a girl divide (2/8) by 2, having used two pennies to represent the two 1/8s in question. I'd shown her the pennies and told were what they stood for, then asked her what she thought half of 2/8 must be. It had worked well. When B* asked for help on the same question, I was eager to try the trick again. I asked him, "Can you pretend things?" and he responded that, yes, he could. Pulling a pile of change out of my pocket, I found only quarters present in a pair. B*'s first response was to reach for the money, saying, "Here." That was funny. Then I showed him one quarter and said, "This is an eighth. We'll pretend it's one eighth." I put the other quarter next to it and elaborated: "Now we have two eighths. Can you see what happens when we divide by 2?" Poor B* just looked at the money and frowned. Then he said, "How can that be an eighth when it's a quarter?" It was clear this wasn't going to work. So I said: "Hmm. I guess that won't work," and showed him how to do it with paper and pencil.

Walking away from this interaction, I briefly imagined B*'s perception of it: I pulled two of what were clearly quarters out of my pocket, stupidly declared them to be eighths, and tried to do some math with them. Then B* gently corrected that these were in fact quarters, not eighths, and I quickly realized my error, summarizing, "Hmm. I guess that won't work." Astoundingly, I rebounded immediately from this egregious error and came through with a rational way of approaching the problem.

I think the world must be very funny, from his perspective.

Date: 2009-06-28 14:10 Subject: My dream job Security: Public

I dreamed last night I had a new job as a tutor at a brain surgery clinic, and on my first day I was instructed to help an incoming patient learn a little geometry. The nurse told me, "He has to learn this before we perform surgery." She said, "This is anti-gravity geometry. He's having his brain adjusted so that gravity will not affect him." She said he had to learn the theoretical underpinnings of this procedure, or else his mind would not accept the new way of things. She said it could be dangerous.

I was glad to be of assistance.

Date: 2009-05-05 12:46 Subject: Thank God for bubble packaging Security: Public Location: St. Paul Mood: amused, annoyed Music: Blur Tags: grammatical errors (intentional), gripes (postal service)

At the post office sending a package literally to Kalamazoo, and the postal worker at the counter asks me does this package contain anything fragile? I say yes, sort of, and he goes "okay". I pay 40 cents extra for Priority shipping even though I'm not sure what that entails, and the guy throws my package over his shoulder ten feet into a bin behind him. I say, "That really is kind of fragile," and this incompetent of a postal worker says, "If you're really concerned about it, package it better next time." He says, "That's how mail is treated." Gee, thanks.

Date: 2009-04-23 08:59 Subject: The end of an era Security: Public

Well, that is over.

Date: 2009-04-15 08:41 Subject: Let's pin this on poor Neil Gaiman Security: Public Tags: dream

An even more surreal dream:
Neil Gaiman developed a Jumanji-type, live action "video" game, with boards based on the lives of famous people. Depending on how one played the game, one's life could become either extravagantly better or drastically worse. I played a level based on the life of Beethoven, and I did so poorly that the game stripped me of all material possessions, leaving nothing but a bare apartment with holes in the floors in which I could see huge cockroaches scampering about. I was so hungry that I wondered if I could eat the cockroaches. Later in that episode, I developed extravagant riches. Then, I guess, I married like a half-horse, half-woman? Weird shit, Neil Gaiman. Weird shit.

Date: 2009-04-13 11:07 Subject: Reunion tour Security: Public Music: Blind Melon

Last night, my subconscious took me through the same dream twice: the first time for kicks, and the second to point out which parts I'd "dreamed". Apparently, I really went to the Arkansas State Fair with John Hanson, but I only dreamed I'd eaten cheese curds there. Thanks for screwing with me, mind.

Date: 2009-03-27 16:01 Subject: More fun at the Hexagon Bar Security: Public

Some friends-of-friends played a show last night, and I, having nothing else to do (and being a fan of their lounge act), went to check it out. Three to four drinks in, a rambunctious woman in a red shirt poked me and motioned to dance with her. I agreed. Passing off my drink to a friend, I moved to the dance floor for about forty seconds, only to find I was having my dancing criticized. She told me, "It's all about being weird. Move your arms all crazy." I looked at her and could think only of how eccentric I already considered myself. I was matter with consciousness! A self-aware pile of atoms in the midst of an existential crisis! I thought, "I don't need wacky motions on top of all that." Also, she looked pretty silly waving her arms around. Glancing around for support, I spied the friend I'd entrusted with my drink gulping the whole thing down. Now everything was wrong with my current position. I didn't want to be dancing with this woman; I wanted to be gulping down that drink.

Action time! I crept backward toward my friend, relying on the woman's drunk eyes to fall helplessly on another unsuspecting victim and her drunk brain to forget all about me. In the meantime, while her eyeballs were still swirling around in their sockets with nothing to focus on, I snatched up the remnants of my drink and downed what little gin was left. Losing no time, I sidestepped out of her line of sight, observing as I did so that she had indeed found another man to terrify. Success! I was drunk and happy behind a line of comrades! Dancing time!

Date: 2009-01-01 14:50 Subject: Happy New Year! Security: Public

Last night on the dance floor, we were packed shoulder to shoulder, pulsing as one continuous and tumultuous wave, when some jerk let out the worst fart I've ever experienced.

That was one thing. Another was that I engaged in a half-conscious conversation with an old acquaintance whom I thought was in California but was actually in Texas and is probably going somewhere else now, and in this conversation I came to realize that getting laid off right now was probably the best thing that could have happened to me. Rather than freeze myself working in the cold all day, I get to hang out at home with my cat and watch old episodes of All Creatures Great and Small. On top of that, there's been a recent influx of people I know and cherish visiting the Twin Cities, and unemployment gives me the time to enjoy their company. Looking for a job is never fun, but I'd been hoping to find something more secure than construction for a couple of months anyway. This way, I get unemployment to help me float through the transition.

Just after that revelation was another, perhaps more important one. If I've talked to you recently about what happened in 2008, I probably said something along the lines of, "I managed to waste an entire year of my life." I probably felt pretty lazy when I said it, too. But this is not what really happened in 2008. What really happened is that I suffered a truly traumatic experience at the end of 2007, and I nearly died at the beginning of 2008 on account of it. But I made it past all that, and I've taken almost a year now getting my life back in order. I returned to Minnesota, if by a scenic route, and I've reclaimed the things that are most important in my life: friends, artistry, and a sense of belonging. If I've had a good time along the way and kept my employment casual and short-term, that much the better, really. I've been concerned that I'm not making anything of myself, but the fact is that I've been rebuilding myself all year. There is more to a person than vocation, after all.

Have a happy 2009, everybody. I know things are rough across the country right now, and my feeling is that they are going to get worse than we can really imagine. In the midst of that, let's all try to be thankful for the things we have, shall we? We've got each other, for one, and hopefully we've got a warm bed and full belly. That's enough.

Date: 2008-12-30 09:20 Subject: I also did it because I'm unemployed Security: Public

I thought I would do this, because it's popular to think about what's happened in the last year just now and I'd like to see just how disastrously pointless it's all been. I don't mean that. I think. Just so you know, I stole the template from lunali, who probably stole it from somebody else. I've seen it elsewhere, at any rate.

( Year in Review )

Date: 2008-12-04 19:07 Subject: This is a game we play. Security: Public

Hey guys...

Let's ask the Dean for $34 billion to bail out our failing industry.

say it with me now.

Date: 2008-11-23 10:48 Subject: It fit the facts Security: Public Tags: self-deception, thanksgiving

I had this spectacularly surreal experience yesterday where I got up and started doing the dishes to NPR. The thing was, the announcers kept talking about Thanksgiving and Black Friday like they were in the past. They'd say things like, "Now that Thanksgiving's over..." and "With Black Friday behind us..." I don't know why they did that; I guess they must have played the segment a week earlier than planned. But when I went to check the facebook after that, one of my cousins had put up a photo album entitled Thanksgiving, with all of her siblings in the pictures. They must have gotten together early for convenience's sake this year, but I didn't know that at the time. I started freaking out, thinking I really had missed Thanksgiving.

It didn't make sense, though. I knew I was getting days off work for the holiday, and I knew I had been at work just before I went to sleep. A lot of people might throw out the caveats I throw out above and go on with their day, but I was tired and I'm weird, so instead I had this horrific moment where I thought to myself, "My God! I've been asleep for a week!"

It turns out it was just a weird coincidence, but I mean, I still had to check the date on my computer and look up when Thanksgiving occurs this year to be sure.

Date: 2008-11-16 15:29 Subject: It's a family illness Security: Public

I visited my grandparents in Sioux Falls this weekend, and before I relate this little glimpse into the nauseatingly boring 40 hours or so of my visit, it's important that you understand how conservative and Scandinavian they are. We watched two episodes of That 70's Show, for instance, without their ever catching on that the characters were constantly smoking pot. They're very kind people, though, if a little forgetful. And sometimes, just sometimes, they seem normal.

As when my grandpa got an automated call from the pharmacy that Grandma had some medications ready to be picked up. Neither had any recollection of the prescription, but Grandma had this to say:

"Hmm. I hope it's something good."

Haha. Hypocrites.

Date: 2008-11-12 17:53 Subject: Coming soon to a REM-state near you: The Black Eyes. Security: Public

Last night, I dreamed I wrote a song with Kurt Cobain. We had such a raucous good time playing the song, and it was such a good song, that we decided we ought to perform the thing at a local rock festival. I asked Kurt, "What should we call ourselves?" I looked up at him, and he had a real big purple shiner. He responded, "The Black Eyes".

This was all well and good, but all of a sudden the dream turned self-referential. I realized, for instance, that Kurt and I were the only ones playing, and we were both playing guitar. Yet there were also drums and bass on the track! I thought that was pretty weird, and I was really concerned about how we were going to get it to happen again live. Kurt said we could just use a drum machine and a tape of the bass part, which seemed logical, except neither one of us knew how to play those parts. I was getting these phone calls from concert organizers asking for confirmation, and I was pretty freaked out.

Then out of nowhere, I remembered that Kurt Cobain was dead! I reasoned I must have dreamed the whole thing up, but I was still getting the phone calls from organizers asking for details and confirmations.

Of course I had to call it off in the end. I called up Kurt to let him know I couldn't do the show, on account of he wasn't alive and I'd only dreamed that we put this song together. He took it pretty well. "That makes sense," he said. "Now can I just go back to being dead?"

I mean it was a pretty good dream, and a very good song. I'm hoping we can keep this thing going in the Dreaming.

Date: 2008-10-06 22:42 Subject: Adventures in... THE HUMAN CONDITION Security: Public Location: St Paul Music: Devotchka

I had this great little experience with the human condition today. On my way to work, I got to thinking about the difference between my life a year ago and the way things are now. Everything had changed drastically for the better! It was such a striking contrast that I smiled and said to myself, "Wow! I wonder what the world will throw at me next!"

Just then, I caught a whiff of the single vilest aroma I have ever encountered. It was something like a mix of dog vomit, cat shit, and rotten urine. I mean the smell frickin' engulfed me.

I looked down, shook my head, and muttered, "Wow, I didn't see that one coming."

Date: 2008-09-25 08:55 Subject: The handsomest man ever to leer out of a second-story window Security: Public Location: St. Paul Mood: Down Music: TV On the Radio Tags: beautiful women (bus stops), unemployment

Yesterday morning, I looked out my second-story window to see the most beautiful woman ever to stand at a bus stop. I stood transfixed momentarily, then called some friends out of the kitchen to witness this miracle of nature. The bus arrived shortly, and she was gone.

Fifteen minutes later, I looked out the same window in the vain hope she would reappear. "I wish that beautiful woman would come back," I remarked. I was wearing pajamas; it was ten am. "I think she could fall in love with me. Don't you think so, Huck?" I turned to my friend.

His response: "You really need a job."

How true.

Date: 2008-09-13 10:36 Subject: On living in the city Security: Public

Last night I went to a pizza joint downtown to eat pizza and drink beer with my friend on his birthday. We had just ordered our second round of drinks when two moderately attractive women arrived at our table. "We're sorry to interrupt you," they told us. "But we're giving away free beer as part of a Heineken promotion." This actually happened: "Would you all like some free beer?"

I had my doubts when I moved to the city. Among other things, I feared I would lose myself in a sea of unfriendly, unfamiliar faces. I guess I was wrong about that. I also suspected I would find housing only in the midst of a bustling metropolitan center, that my dreams would be filled with the sounds of sirens and rattling cans of change. Instead, I live in a quiet neighborhood bordering a placid lake; the homeless only heckle me when I go downtown. I am still unemployed, but I feel my job prospects are good, and in the meantime my savings will tide me over for at least another month. I feel at home here. It is not the same as living near corn fields and leaving my doors unlocked at night, but it is home nonetheless. For now, at least.

Date: 2008-09-10 14:03 Subject: Clifford's Big Red Mess Security: Public Location: St. Paul, MN Music: Johnny Cash

I want to see the episode of Clifford, the Big Red Dog where Clifford takes just this massive dump on the living room carpet and the dad has to rub his nose in it and say, "No Clifford! No Clifford that's a bad Clifford! You do that outside!" Then he drags Clifford to the yard while the little girl cries.

That is what it is really like to have a dog! Not this putting-out-fires-coming-to-school-with-you crap.

(ps. sorry it has been so long since my last post. i live in st. paul now. did you know that?)

Date: 2008-08-11 17:06 Subject: I just wanna play music all day long all day long all day long Security: Public

This past weekend I recorded a number of children's songs with a musical friend. We made a Myspace page for the band, and you can listen if you like: Music is fun! With Jared and Joey.

While you're at it, you can view my other projects on Myspace:

Where's Your Mustache?
Joey Iverson