A Day in the Life of Chaos

I can speak English, Spanish some Thai and a little Italian and German.  My wife speaks English, Tagalog, Illongo a little Cebuano and some Spanish.  Language is the most curious thing.  It is the illustration of our thoughts, emotions, feelings and desires.  It is the instrument of expression and without it we would be as limited as my loving dog.  I might be able to understand happiness, sadness, pleasure or pain, hunger and when one needs to poop.  Beyond that things start to break down. I have a lot of friends who I communicate with in English but English is not their first language.  This dynamic can frequently create misunderstandings.  Limited knowledge of a language often creates communication without nuance.  Stronger words chosen for convenience can often convey a message that was not intended.  There is always a danger of a misunderstanding, something blowing up that shouldn’t be.  In the face of such catastrophic consequence I maintain the policy of not getting piss

When I was in college trying to graduate on time I had a problem.  Somehow in four years of study I had managed to amass credit hours from four different institutions all in the pursuit of a Bachelors of Arts degree in History and Political Science.  Anyone who has submitted transcripts to an admissions office knows what an arduous task it is to gain credit acceptance for the most esoteric subjects that just don't seem to fit in a different curriculum.  When the vast collection of transcripts mailed from distant colleges arrive on the admission's officer desk, they sit like Caesar in a gladiator arena and judge everything you have done.  One by one they give thumbs up or thumbs down to the hours of course work you have dedicated a large portion of your life to and enormous sums of money. In my case I was fortunate to attend an expensive private university that while leaving me with mountains of debt proved to be quite accommodating.  My accumulated transcripts from Anchora