so I can close my eyes

Apparently, when I have papers to write, I make blog posts instead.

Why yes, I have eaten a lot of chocolate. And I want more more more.

I'm already missing Jan term. Next term starts back earrrlyyyy January, and that leaves me not much time to make the rounds and visit everyone I want. But I'm gonna try, by gum. Atlanta, Nashville, and Texas. Three weeks. Here I come. It's going to be busy, yes. But remember two years ago, when I did Texas/Missouri/Utah/Tuscaloosa(oh yes it counts) in 3 weeks? Yep. I can make it.

***
Let me tell you a secret: Mississippi's growing on me. I think I'm just now realizing that. This is not an easy place for me. But it is good. I think I can say that honestly. I'm with good people. I laugh a lot. The fields do have a roll to them and the trees and earth are beautiful, and the sky is really wide. I guess what I mean is - sometimes happiness isn't the best way to be happy. And I'm okay with that.

***
In other news, last weekend I went to Texas. It was sunny and lovely and best of all a really wonderful guy was there and we hung out a lot.

And I drove seven hours, both ways. All by myself. The End.

***
Quick, gimme a topic for the next poem. I'm game for anything from ancient Rome to rollerskating. Winner gets satisfaction of suggesting the best thing and my deep deep gratitude. Thanks folks.

I love this, I love that too . . .

So no . . . I usually don't do the round-up things. But sometimes, things out there in internet land are so beautiful and interesting and marvelous that I can't help but say "Go 'ave a look!"


Train + New Mexico + Over the Rhine . . . it's killin me.


Evie love. One of my favorite blogs ever. Nashville artist/gourmand/teacher/world traveler/writer. Stop by and rest your weary mind for a while.


A steady surprise of stars.


I would buy this tent, and I would pitch it in a green grassy field, and I would live in it with lots of blankets and pillows and . . . flashlights, I guess.


Happy birthday to me, hint hint. Just kidding . . . sort of.

for today

I have a lot to do right now. Three papers. One presentation. Essays to grade. Tests to grade. Lessons to plan. Friends (Erin&Shannon&Kait&Lee, you're at the top of the list) to call and write. Bills to pay. Miles to walk. Meals to make. And I want to GET ON IT, by golly. I'm ready to go in to Robot Productive Mode.

But. Instead . . .

Well, first of all, I am eating an orange. And second - I'm writing this blog post.

I don't like it when I stay away from my blog. Because I don't like it when other people stay away from their blogs. At this point I could compare the orange to the blog and say writing is like Vitamin C for my sanity, but I won't do that. That's way too Hallmark.

***
Today, I'm going to sit in the sun and work. Must start fighting off Seasonal Affective Disorder. Somebody get me one of those sun lamps. Now, slave! Oh sorry. I forgot I wasn't talking to my class.

***
I'm writing a research project on Penelope Fitzgerald. She's absolutely marvelous. That is, if you're looking for a British writer whose novels have broken down people and mess and heartbreak and a strange sort of hope and all in the most subtly luminous prose. If you're looking for that, I think you'd like her. And it's fun to research something I care about it. I am on a bona fide crusade for the woman's novels now. Treat her like a real writer, literary critics, and stop talking about how she didn't publish til she was 59 but her books are so great - come on, scholars, get into the meat of her work. Sheesh.

***
Lately, I've been getting lots of emails from my precious students that go something like this:

"HEY do wE haVe Cla$$ toMorRow??????", or "what is due on wensday i forgot".

So, this morning in class, I gave the children a short but concentrated lesson on writing appropriate emails to professors and future bosses. It involved me bursting into the class, talking very loudly, and saying "OMG" a lot. I also stressed the importance of acknowledging that you are writing to a REAL human warm body being with salutory words such as "Hello." I think they got the point.

***
Don't forget to pick out your very own Puritan name this Thanksgiving! Ok, I laugh, but I have to admit they were on to something. There's something sort of lovely in the thought of naming someone for life, of names as a gift:"Joy-again" and "Hope-still".

That said, whoever named their kid "Ashes" or "Fly-fornication" . . .