Pic of the Day


Some Really Good News

It finally happened. It’s something I have wanted and worked for years to get. I got an email last evening from the office of our university’s provost. The email title was “Appointment Letter.” The letter was congratulating me on my appointment as a non-tenure track Assistant Professor. It’s official. I am finally a professor. 
When I named this blog The Closet Professor, it was in the anticipation that I would get my PhD and get a job as a professor. Neither of those things came to fruition. However, when I took the position of Curator of Education and Public Programs, it became a possibility that I would also gain the title of Assistant Professor. Then there were a few setbacks with the university’s bureaucracy, and I thought it would never happen. Now out of the blue I receive my letter of appointment.
I know you might have some questions, and I’ll try to answer some of them. This is really just an additional title. It does not come with a raise or additional duties. With that being said, it may not sound like much. However, it means a great deal to me personally. It’s a title I have wanted for many years, nearly 20 years to be exact. When I chose not to pursue a law degree and decided instead to go to graduate school, it was with the intent to become a history professor. Since then, through a series of unfortunate events, it did not happen until now.

Pic of the Day


Nothing

I sat down last night to write this post, and I couldn’t think of anything to post. I hate when that happens. With nothing to write, I decided to just go to bed.


Pic of the Day


Friends

I am very fortunate to have the friends I have. I am especially fortunate to have a friend like my friend Susan. Last night I was feeling very down. I am a bit overwhelmed with packing. Instead of causing me to frantically pack, it causes me to get even less done. I know it will get done, but right now I’m feeling overwhelmed. I also have a neighbor that lives below me who I have always tried to be friendly with who has turned against me and has been harassing me about everything she can. She’d been taking advantage of my kindness, and when she found out I was moving she has become increasingly more hateful to me. I am actually scared of what she might do. Add to that, the administrative assistant at the museum has decided she will only do what helps our director and refuses to do anything for me or my fellow curator. She’s supposed to be the museum’s administrative assistant not just the director’s. So after all these things coming down on me last night, I just wanted to cry. It had been an increasingly difficult day. It was nice to be able to talk to Susan and be able to tell her my woes. Just talking to her helped so much. I felt so much better afterwards. I am lucky to have the friends that I have. I hope that all of you have that person or persons who you can turn to in your time of need.


Pic of the Day


Hot Tub

Hot Tub
Miguel Murphy

A tryst.
That ends
in a nightly dose.

A contradiction,
emptiness
refused by starlight,

the dark
enflamed with error.
Tell me again

what crime you are
so guilty of?
The hot tub,

26 Seconal—
the moon
like ejaculate.

Delicate.
Poor
Barlow,

you felt
so alone;
you were

the only queer.
January 1, 1951.
In the semantics of

your translation
you intend, in Náhuatl
a long while,

to abandon
your cadaver.
There.

About This Poem
“Robert Barlow, aged 16, was either the 43-year old H. P. Lovecraft’s lover for a summer in 1934, or just his disappointed protégé, who in his own middle years would overdose on Seconal after a student threatened to expose him for being that medical monster of the age, a homosexual. The diagnosis, the name of the disease. In 2019, I sit in my hot tub, but the freedoms of this era feel illusory. A single pill a night makes a frightening plague a kind of historical footnote. Such starlight. The backside of the century.”
Miguel Murphy


Pic of the Day


Packing

I will be spending the week packing, and I still have to work during the day. I have to teach several classes this week. I did some packing this weekend, but I didn’t get as far as I’d hoped. I hate packing. I don’t know of anyone who actually does like packing. I will get it done. I have to. The movers will be here next Monday. I can’t wait to get moved. I’m so looking forward to my new apartment. However, there is still so much to do. It’s a bit overwhelming.


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