Brushstroke2

I just returned from seeing my shrink. It's that time of year-- gosh, holidays are so Janus-faced, aren't they? You're so happy to have a few days off, to see your family, to eat turkey and drink eggnog-- yet at the same time you dread the feeling that you're obligated to be of good cheer. And all those unspoken questions-- have you met anybody yet? How come you haven't a real job? To make things worse, my birthday is right after Christmas. I'm going to be 52! Incredible. 52, unmarried, living with parents, totally unsure whether my one-year contract will be renewed. I have an Ivy League education, 3 Masters degrees and a Ph.D. "To get a good job, get a good education."

Brushstroke1

Okay, this is an experiment. I've been thinking alot about memoirs and autobiography-- and have decided that perhaps the best way to approach my life is indirectly. So here's my life, so to speak, but I'm changing the names (including my own) and other identifying markers to protect the innocent. But here are some parameters to begin with. I'm a middle aged Asian American who teaches humanities at a university in Southern California. Call me Tingkun.