Forgive me, I meant to stay away a week and left for six. Crazy busy, yadda yadda. This graduate school thing is great, except when you also work full-time. Last week — the semester's glorious finale — was a definite hell week but only slightly more insane than the previous 15. Suffice to say, first year of a master's is complete, and I'm coming up for air again.
Thank God for the tea. I said that most mornings, afternoons and nights as I studied and wrote. Not only does tea keep me alert and focused, it also serves another crucial function: If it weren't for the tea-fueled toilet breaks, I'd have gone far too many hours without so much as rising from the chair or un-hunching over the computer.
Things I've written about during the last nine months of graduate communication study: the protest music of Occupy (or lack thereof), depictions of economics in dystopian science fiction, the effect of audio dilation on speech comprehension in a driving simulator study, the history of autoethnography, the birth of language, the coming computing singularity, the BioMuse feedback music system, Woody Guthrie's para-social relationship with his radio audience, comparing the history of media studies to the oracle of the Tao te Ching, McLuhan McLuhan McLuhan, and my developing claim that all music is now background music.
So, I'm back. For whate'er 'tis worth. Today's tea tunes has nothing to do with tea, but c'mon, I gotta ...
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