Monday, November 15, 2010

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.

Friday, November 12, 2010

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.

Monday, November 8, 2010

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" . . .