10:24 p.m. - April 28, 2004
I came out to Courtney today over Mongolian beef and rice.
I was called a genius by a real genius in class today. Between class and meeting Courtney I talked with my advisor about checking out the program at Columbia and it felt good to have this mentor of mine, a man I adore, say I'm blessed to have many options and open doors throughout academe (even if). For me I can't slog through this program when my heart isn't in it; the thought of operating a lab in pursuit of LADs to celebrate or villify Chomsky and the MIT-usurper or find a way to speed acquisition of language for strategic interests as directed by the military just doesn't ring the bells of ambition anymore. I can offer a hundred reasons but they are hollow; the real reason is between fear of success and fear of failure and the fear of sitting on top of the hill, Ph.D. in hand, and realizing there's nothing left to do.
When I am most uncertain, I jump off the plan train and dive into something new. Such is suggestive of mania or something along the lines of being fucked up enough to qualify for disability. Sobering thought.
I want to go back to teaching high school. Shakespeare. ASL. French or Latin but not both. The differences between their, they're, there. It isn't defeat but a victory of some sort that's clear only to me.