Once Forgotten

While rocking out to my Twilight mix (of course, made for each book, chapter by chapter--in some cases paragraph by paragraph--if you want a copy, let me know!) and prepping goodies for my cook-ahead, Slow Cooker Chicken Enchilada Casserole, I heard a song I haven't really heard in ages: "Have You Forgotten" by Red House Painters.

When I first heard that song was in my in-between-years as manager of the Saks Off-Fifth Women's Department at Aurora Farms in Aurora, Ohio, when I wanted to study poetry in a MFA program but more importantly I wanted to find myself. I listened to the song many times during many late nights doing stupid shit (there's no other way to put it) with my then (and still) bestees: Gattozzi, PL, & Stokes.

My most vivid memory with "Have You Forgotten" is in Grad School, though. I had wandered down to Falstaff's on my way home from teaching one Friday evening--early on in my Grad career, my first semester. This was my fav bar which happened to be the best burger joint in town: in Grad School my two favorite things comboed in one.

The owner and cook, John, knew me by name. (Yes, it was a Cheers moment every time I walked in.) I was in there one night sipping my Jack & Coke and devouring my cheeseburger and fries after a rough week when I heard "Have You Forgotten."

John was an avid indie radio supporter, and the song was most likely playing on the college radio station. I don't remember. But what I remember was in a bar the size of any good college bar with glossed oak wood counters and four pool tables, it was just me and John listening to "Have You Forgotten."

No one else was in the bar.

That was the loneliest moment of my life.

I missed my brother, my sister, my parents, my Stokey, my Gattozzi, my PL, my Alice, my life in Kent, my job with designer clothes perks, the love of my life (wherever he was), and myself.

What's weird is I never remembered that specific emotional state until tonight. I've heard that song countless times since then, but never with any emotional potency.

What made tonight so special? The smell of onions browning in a non-stick LeCruest skillet?

Food and memory are intrinsically linked...

At first I thought to include this memory in a private letter to my friend PL with a stack of CD burns I've been promising to send him since December, but for some reason that didn't seem to be enough.

This past weekend my sister-in-law Suz told me I needed to update my blog. That she missed it. That she enjoyed reading it.

I thought to myself, "For real? My blog is a joke."

I complain. I whine. I rant.

But the smell of onions reminded me:

I share.

I remember.

I appreciate.

That's good enough by me.

What else are blogs for?

One Part of a Weekend That Made Me Extremely Happy

Jane Mead reading.

Photo cred: Karen Babine.

Teaser

The Why & Later Readers at the KBG Bar.

More on my AWESOME trip to NY coming very soon.

Thanks to Carly, Erin, & Kiely for making it extremely special.

A New Hope (*MAYBE* It's As Cool As Star Wars)

When I said I needed some hope I wasn't lying.

And when the Wick Poetry Center delivered, I became a true believer.

For the first time in probably years, I actually feel like a worthwhile writer & contributor to the Creative Writing community.

And I must say it feels pretty good.

Don't get me wrong, I've been doing readings & loving every minute of them, but something about being back in Kent & coming full circle from the kid who went to the readings to being the kid reading meant the world to me. And it motivated me in ways I'm not ready to articulate.

Apart from the fact that I got to spend time with some of my favorite kids who made me feel "oh-so-ready-to-pop-one-out."

Now that I'm home do I still feel that way?

No...Yes...Maybe...No...

But what I feel like is writing. Which can be like having a baby. Good enough for now.

I'm not doing my trip any justice...Just know that the readings were phenomenal. The panel was lively & rigorous at times. And I was always my usual freak-show self.

Once more links become available I'll be posting.

Until & between then I'll be writing.

I really wish I had some pics...

My new fav heros: Tony, Arlan, Carly, & Katherine.

Confession: I cried so HARD when Katherine & I said our good-byes I looked like an idiot.

Two (or More) for Tuesday

A homecoming is in my horizon.

Tomorrow I visit Kent State to celebrate the Wick Poetry Center 25th Anniversary by reading with past scholarship winners/some dear friends I haven't seen in a while as well as reading as part of the Why & Later anthology with benefit yoga classes.

If you can make it out Wednesday the 17th at 7:30 in the Honors College (Johnson Hall) is the Why & Later reading. Thursday the 18th from 11-12:15 p.m. is the benefit yoga class at the KSU Student Rec Center. Thursday the 18th at 8:00 p.m. in the Kiva is the Past Scholarship Winner Reading.

I'm beyond excited. In fact, I'm so excited I can't decide on what to wear.

Looks like I'll have to study the wardrobe binder intently tonight.

~

In other news, I've offended almost all of my friends by declaring my presence a politics-free zone. I care. But, more so, I don't. Usually during this time every 4 years I'm all fired up and ready to talk shop with propaganda pins neatly attached to my denim jacket and stickers attached to my bike helmet. Not this time. Really what difference would be had if I did care? Every candidate declares change, but there never is one. I don't have the emotional energy to deal with another loss or the brain occupancy to deal with bickering about something that will be over in two months. I easily could turn this blog into a rant about both sides. But being that I declared this a politics-free zone, that would go against the whole idea. I will say, though, my dream is to see Nader or Perot on the ballot. Again.

~

In more uplifting (or not) news, the Big Bang Experiment seems to be going well.

~

Thank God I'm going to Kent. Looks like a reunion is just what my spirit needs.

Farwell, my dear friend, Time.*

I like to think I have a sunny disposition. That I'm happy, warm, lovable.

That I spread my joy to all who know me.

Until this week. (Don't worry, next week I'll be fine.)

This week, though, is my last week of summer. And today is the only day that is going to be totally mine. Therefore, I must make it count. I will cross off these six things on my to-do list today: swim, finish reading Rachel Zucker's The Bad Wife Handbook, finish the first draft of a new chapbook, dry the Blue Basil leaves I have no idea what to do with, wrap FD's bday presents while snacking on cheddar cheese and NutThins or raw baby carrots (I'm not much of snacker but I LOVE cheese, to put it mildly), oh, yeah, and complete this blog tag** from Stokes.

Easy enough.

10 years ago I was entering my 4th year of undergrad, just taking filler classes like yoga and ice skating because I finished all my major classes in 3 years and I was going to the gay bars to dance my off ass because I didn't want to be worried with being assaulted by drunken frat boys and I was discovering the world of poetry. It's funny to think today I'm the teacher, preparing for the first-year writing students, who dances around my house while dusting, a Swiffer as my imaginary microphone, and who knows full-well that the world of poetry isn't all that magical.

It's this last week of summer, though, that makes me wish I was a billionaire. That I could teach a few classes here and there when I felt like it. And set up a pretty fat retirement plan for me and FD as well as for both of our families too. And build my prefab dream house with a guest house and two detached offices (one for me and one for FD) all with the arty, expensive appliances and furniture I see in Dwell each month. And give money to worthwhile foundations like Alicia's Voice. And travel to cool places like Japan and India. And do yoga whenever and whereever I want. And hire a cleaning staff, a chef, and, because if I was rich why not have kids and hire a few nannies. Finally, of course, I would be a shareholder of The Grey Colt and wear extra fabulous clothes all the time.

Yeah, that'd be the life. But then if I was billionaire, would I really appreciate the days when I cleaned residential construction sites, sweeping wood and dust into piles and shop vacuuming it all up? Or when I cleaned model homes, how I adored making perfect vacuum lines in the never-used carpets? Or when I worked for a cleaning service and scrubbed the settled cigarette smoke off cheap vinyl floors in some office that could totally be in a 70s sit-com, even though clearly we were in the 90s? (God, no wonder I'm a clean freak!) Or when I managed Hons' clothing resale shop & every Thursday Stokes & I would go to Applebees for dinner & drinks b/c she got a discount there. Or how about when I was the women's clothing department manager at Off Fifth & I went into debt buying hoity toity designer clothes. (No wonder I'm a label whore!) Or my days struggling as a TA, trying to figure out what kind of poet/teacher/woman/person I wanted to be until I finally figured out & became the poet/teacher/woman/person I always wanted to be.

Really would all that be lost if I became a billionaire? How would my values change? Or how would I teach my children values, that is if I decided to have kids?

Maybe it's simpler knowing I start teaching again next Monday and life will regain it's schedule, a schedule that I know & have come to love.

That doesn't mean I won't dream of living on Captiva Island, FL; or in Portland, OR; or Martha's Vineyard; Napa Valley; Boulder, CO; Ireland; Scotland; or even just plain ol' Clevelend, OH.

I guess as much as I don't want to, I need to look on the sunny side of this summer, the good times had, the time that I wasted doing God-knows-what.

Last week of summer, please treat me well. Be kind to me. Help me accomplish my to-do list in the best of moods. And help me smile when I wake up in the morning of the 25th, ready for school to begin again.

*Said in a unbearably tight hug that turns into a sloppy sob fest 08.
**I tag SEM, Chop, & C.L. Jones.

Book Review: Zucker's _Eating in the Underworld_

Eating in the Underworld by Rachel Zucker

rating: 4 of 5 stars

I worship Rachel Zucker.

I wouldn't say I worship _Eating in the Underworld_, though.

This poetry collection was beautifully crafted, perfectly lyrical, and all-around well-written, but it wasn't exactly for me.

I like that Zucker puts a new spin on the Persephone/Hades myth, but sometimes it felt more like a project than a book that could change my life forever. However, without this book and the grappling between mother and daughter/child I'm not sure _The Last Clear Narrative_ would have been so life changing.

If anything _Underworld_ gives me hope that my younger poems are building towards something grand.

I'm happy I've read and I own _Underworld_. It is after all written by one of my fav poets...


View all my reviews.

Book Review: Bonomo's _Installations_

Installations by Joe Bonomo

rating: 4 of 5 stars
Bonomo's _Installations_ is mysteriously gorgeous and intellectually haunting. Each prose poem (beginning with the lines: "A large, well-lit, white-walled room. You walk to a red line painted on the floor.") serves as an installation art piece that is examined by a "you." These pieces (the poems/prose/memoir) replicate the art pieces in an innovative way--one that realistically enacts viewing art into written word. Like viewing art sometimes I just moved on to the next piece without hesitation, sometimes I lingered, other times I obsessed and forgot the time, and almost always I acknowledged rigorous thought and felt some kind of emotion.



Note to self: One emotion I felt several times was jealousy (over the form, language, concept) but, of course, the kind that is from the most loving place.



Like minimalist contemporary art some of the pieces "seemed" easy or underwhelmed or repetitive in a non-repetitive way. Though these qualities could be viewed as shortcomings, they appear to be intentional, at least in my reads. These are aspects I would like to hear Bonomo discuss, though.



The pieces (as identified by their last lines) that I gravitated towards were: "6:47," "Planes and birds glide in eternal gravity," "Your body, in mourning and great reluctance, received you back," "With history in front of you, you feel a tingle at the back of your neck, and you turn around," and "You want to open that drawer."



My all-time fav for its ability to articulate my own art viewing emotions most closely: "What is that small bloom of dread in your chest that you can't name?"



_Installations_ is full of real and surreal surprises, lockets of images, and invitations to join in. And join in, you should.






View all my reviews.

"Weird" followed by *Silence*

FD & I have a tradition of talking before we hit the hay.

Last night I told him I don't have anything to say when he asked about my blog and writing.

Because I'm the new secretary for Alicia's Voice, I've been working on projects the help the cause. But this past weekend E., our president, asked if I wanted to read the police report for Alicia's murder. Of course, I knew the story, but I didn't know the story as recorded for public record. The report has been haunting my sleep and keeping me quiet with many inarticulate thoughts--usually how I get before I start writing.

While in Utah this past October FD, Nate, and I had dinner with Tung-Hui Hu (aka Hui Hui) who said a lot of the writers he knows don't like blogging because it takes away from their "writing" time. For me blogging has always helped my writing. But I feel a change in the tide coming. Blogging is great for my essay writing, but I fear it's not-so great for my poetry writing.

While I would like my poems to work as non-fiction and my non-fiction to work like poems, which I always imagined them to be, I'm discovering they are quite different processes. More to explore.

Anyways I may be slower between posts while I'm digesting things and working out a few new poems in the process. It's nice to be at this point again. I kinda missed writing poetry...

Off-topic, in food news, I found a grass-fed organic animal farm. Monday FD & I are going to pick up some "meats" (said in an orch voice). Today we're going to look at deep freezers. I want to damn all those food books I'm reading as well as hug their authors, tightly, very tightly.

On-topic, The Center for Access to Safety and Justice, a collaboration of Wood County agencies working together in one location to assist those affected by domestic violence, will have its Grand Opening on July 1. The ceremony will be held at Stone Ridge Golf Club in Bowling Green. Please RSVP at aliciasvoice@yahoo.com by Friday, June 27. Together we can!

Absolutely Delightful

Denmark, Kangaroo, Orange by Kevin Griffith

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
An absolutely delightful collection of poems.



Smart and accessible.



Fresh and funny.



Lighthearted and thoughtful.



I adore it. Totally.



While reading I kept thinking if there was a band that could put these poems to music it would be Magnetic Fields.



The highlights: "Your Pants Look Disappointed," "The Kite," "Marriage," and "Coffee."



I whole heartedly recommend this book to those serious about poetry and those who want to like poetry but claim they don't "understand it."






View all my reviews.

Barely Able to Breathe

Dandelion heads have covered the lawn like snow.

It's hot. I welcome the thought of snow.

Because Idea Theft Is Something I'm Good At

I like ideas.

Even better than liking ideas, I like taking ideas and refining them. Which gives me license to be a little sneaky.

Sometimes I just like to borrow ideas outright. For that, I always give credit where credit is due.

For example, my idea of borrowing ideas comes from some of my fav female poets: Mary Ann Samyn, Alice Fulton, Brenda Hillman.

I said I give credit.

Yes, so I "borrow" a lot for my writing. Which now includes my blogging.

I was reading Clamhead's blog and came across this post called "Life Cloud."

I like tag clouds. Which basically are word clouds.

Clouds are awesome.

Seriously how much more awesome can a cloud be if it's made up of words?

So I checked my Twitter Stats and made my own Word Cloud. Cool, huh?

Now I've just got to think of something original to do with it...

Of course, I could words from Word Cloud in the poems I intend to write very soon...

But there must be something beyond that...

Feeling Blessed

First of all, thank you to all who supported The Why & Later Poetry Reading and Benefit Yoga Classes for Alicia's Voice this past weekend! Even though the turnout was small, everyone's hearts were big. Thank you so much! And thank you to those who were there in spirit too--those that are far away but sent their well-wishes!

I'm excited to continue working with Carly on The Why & Later readings and working as a board member for Alicia's Voice. Both of these causes are very dear to my heart, and it's such an honor for me to be part of them.

Another great part of this weekend was spending time reconnecting with Carly--the sweetheart with a fresh flower in her hair. In two short days, we accomplished a lot: reading poetry together, doing yoga together, and sharing many meals together--literally! The best meal was the one we shared at Revolver Restaurant in Findlay, OH! The Silver Fox (aka Kenny Rogers) played quietly in the background as we ate some of the most delicious food EVER: asparagus soup




shrimp and sweetbreads















walleye brandade












veggie surprise trio for Car









braised short rib meatloaf with asparagus and potato puree



Desserts were delectable too! The pictures say it all!

Thank you, Debi, for your hospitality and for the champagne toast!

And thank you, Megan, for two AWESOME yoga classes that allowed me to feel justified in eating all this great food!

Coming down from a food/activism/friend high is a bit disorienting, hence, my cold. But I'm carrying my happiness with me through this week and beyond.

My only regret is not getting pics of me and Car together, especially at our reading...

Please Join Us This Weekend! Together, We Can!

Join us to support The Why & Later: an anthology of rape and sexual assault poems AND to support The Center, a one-stop location for survivors of domestic violence. All proceeds go to Alicia's Voice and The Center.

♫ While My Puppy Gently Sleeps...♫

Right now a puppy is sleeping on the couch in my office, and I'm quite content.

We attended our first puppy play-date, and BooBoo is wiped out. Perfect. Now I can get some much needed blogging in.

While I didn't win the 6word Twitter contest, I did win a different Twitter Zappos contest, which yielded a higher reward: a $150 gift card to Zappos.com! Yippeeee! The Twitter contest from @zappos_alfred was "Best advice I've gotten is from my Mom. What's best advice your mom gave u? I'll pick 2 replies for free shoes." Here's the winning advice I got from Hons: " Winners are: @HelloKittyAMR-mom told her marry your best friend and @katgil-mom told her to always think positive. I will direct msg you."

(Being a part of Twitter pays off, dear friends!)

Because I did marry my best friend, I gave him the gift card for a new pair of shoes. Ahhhh! Cute--I know.

I must admit, though, I bought myself a new pair of shoes too...I'm addicted...And I blame my no new clothes and shoes resolution for it. I will NEVER make that resolution evereverever again.

Still feeling run-down lately and pretty emotional. After Lemon Cadet's comment that I should take a pregnancy test, I must let all of you know I'm not preggars. I'm just crazy, which apparently is one pink line. Speaking of Lemon Cadet, Baby Lemon is here, and she's precious! Congrats Lemon Family!

I've been feeling a lot better over the past few days. Finishing my book review for Literary Review Magazine helped and being home again helped a lot too. I'm finding the older I get the less I like traveling. Perhaps I'm becoming a crotchety hermit. Or perhaps I'm just tired of traveling almost every weekend. It's exhausting and expensive. And as much as I love our families sometimes I just want to be home doing nothing but reading, blogging, and walking the dog. It's hard to be so close to our families and so far away in terms of distance, but it's life so I must try to handle traveling better. Somehow.

The highlights of seeing our families this past weekend was that my sister visited us for two nights and one day, which was really nice, and we had really nice Mother's Day celebrations with all of our moms, and I got to see the Cortes' fam pics with them and Flat Stan visiting the free stamp and Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame as well as Flat Stan sitting on a kid potty. Good times! (Suz, send me those pics ASAP!)

Speaking of Flat Stan, I'm willing host him if anyone out there needs a Flat Stan host...I adore him.

Just a two more things real quick before my sleepy head wakes up:

There's a dog park right here in Bowling Green! Does anyone take their dog there? It looks a little deserted...More on the dog park situation soon when it's not raining and I can investigate more.

And this weekend come on out for the Poetry and Yoga Alicia's Voice Event. We'd love to see you!

Obsessed Yet Again

If you're on Twitter, you might have seen this RAD contest.

But if you're not, let me explain.

Patrick Sullivan Jr. won a VanHalen towel from a Twitter Zappos contest, and with the towel the very kind Tony included an a surprise, a $100 Zappos gift card.

Well, now the very kind Patrick Sullivan Jr. is paying it forward. He's giving the $100 Zappos gift card to the lucky Twitterer who tweet the best 6 word story.

Upon logging into Twitter this morning, my first thought was: "$100 in Zappos! Campers, darlings, here I come."

But now the contest has been become muchmuch more; it's become an obsession.

As some of you may know, I've been writing one to two line poems for quite some time. As it is, poetry is compressed language, and I'm in search of even-more compressed language that tells a story. The thing is I forgot about this quest over the past nine months b/c of, well, honestly, my job. But now that I'm home for summer I have all the time in the world, as they say.

And I have a sweet-ass Twitter contest to motivate me. Or now to help me realize my goal once again.

Though I want to win so I can get a new pair of Campers (or Vans...) b/c shoes mean the world to me (cliche yet again), I'm thinking I might not. My tweets are little out there.

But why don't you decide for yourself? Hell, which would you pick to win? We'll make our own contest...Well, that doesn't make sense, but I'll send some Hello Kitty stickers to the best (that's subjective) comments regarding this blog post.

My 6 word stories:

She outgrew her wood baby coffin.

He saw only the television reflection.

Loss, a you-never-know away.

Her desire is the snow's reflection.

I welcomed a fistful of mums.

This world full of opened scissors.

She left before the paint dried.

Poolside her toes shattered the water.

Her heavy hand frozen in reach.

My house: it's only one story.

Elated she frosted the chocolate cake.

The dog snores as I vacillate.

Fragile dishes clink in the sink.

The crack in the china is unrepairable.

Body: a shelf lined with bowls.

My dreams are hollow button holes.

Click of keyboard, but no words.

Her voice was garbled with longing.

The boy transferred to another school.

I know this story too well.

Don't make yourself sick over fish.

My palm around the bath’s knob—

My voice lost in a vacuum.

The beauty of it isn't mine.

~

Told you I was obsessed. That's 20 so far...

Most of the "stories" are from some of my poems. Others were on the spot.

I'm still thinking of some and probably will add a few to my list here...I have until midnight. How am I going to sleep tonight?!

OMG, 8:20 and I'm babbling about 6 word stories. American Idol is on. WTF?!

I am obsessed.

The Partial Summer To Do List

Schedule Dentist Appointments -- Check.

Clean Lawn Furniture -- Check.

Yoga every morning -- Check.

Twitter & convince everyone to join Twitter -- 1/2 Check.

Why and Later Poetry Reading/ Alicia’s Voice Benefit Yoga Classes Promo -- 1/2 Check.

Two Review review -- 1/2 Check.

Puppy Playdates.

Puppy Classes & Training.

CheeBurger CheeBurger date w/ FD.

Shop for Mother’s Day, Father's Day, and birthday cards.

Why and Later Poetry Reading/ Alicia’s Voice Benefit Yoga Classes.

Revolver din-din with Car, FD, me, and a special guest.

Rilo Kiely w/ Stokey!

CTLT Clicker Training Sessions.

Cedar Point for my bday! Yay!

June 18 Alicia’s Voice Golf Outing – JOIN US!

Harbor Grand meet-up with KA. Yay!

Visit families and friends!

ENG 110 syllabus and lesson plans.

READ (about 150 books / 1 down) & post book reviews.

WRITE (as many essays or poems as possible.)

WATCH TV.

WATCH MOVIES.

Catch Up on Gossip Blogs & FAFA.

Nap.

Do “things” not on any to-do list (i.e. be adventurous and spontaneous!)

Survivor

In two days I ran out of a brand new box of Hello Kitty Band-Aids.

Bleu is teething, and apparently I'm a tasty treat.

We stopped yelling and started walking out of the room when he begins to play rough.

It seems to work.

He gets sad and paces around. But he's nicer when he wants attention next time.

~

I know I have a rich intellectual life. But I just don't feel like it's there right now. Everything I do or say right now seems to involve Bleu. And when I have time to myself, my mind wanders to him. I like it, but I don't.

I can't imagine what it's like to have a kid.

I know it's different, but still it has to feel the same in some regards...

~

Lost returns this week. I'm all over that.

~

And this week I will be thinking about somethings other than Bleu: AWP in NY. My best wishes are with Car and her panel. You rock their worlds, girl. Represent the Why and Later!

Also, I'm thinking of my grandfather and the family...

~

Back to work. While sometimes thinking about Bleu...and a lot of other things I'm not articulating well.

A Week of Thankfulness (2 for Tuesday)

Today, I'm thankful for two things:

First, yoga class.

We began class by breathing in a meditative posture. Then we moved into poses I was pretty familiar with like Downward Dog. But then we did Plank, which I hate because I have no upper body strength. And when Megan, my yoga teacher, told us to do a side plank, I rolled my eyes at her. Seriously, I'm pretty sure she saw because she smiled the smile that says, "I saw that." I hate plank, but what I hate even more is rolling onto the side, not the sole, of the bottom leg's foot and balancing there on only the side of the foot and one arm.

What I'm thankful for, though, is my ability to surprise myself. Actually, I had more upper body strength and balance than I realized. I could actually do side plank, not perfectly, but enough to feel proud that I did it.

So when Megan said, "It's time for Triangle," I almost squealed, "THANK YOU!" Triangle is one of my all-time favorites! It always makes me happy. (I need to remember that...) From that point on, my practice was focused because I was focused and in side angle series heaven. Time just flew by.

Sitting here, typing, I feel tired but renewed, which is a feeling I'm definitely thankful for this week.

Also, I'm thankful for the new issue of NOON: journal of the short poem. They aren't online, but this link will give you sense of what it looks like. I have one one-liner and one two-liner in it. Getting published makes me feel good about my writer-self, but even better is the fact that the journal is based out of Tokyo (Hello Kitty's homeland) and that it is the MOST beautiful journal I've ever seen. It's hand-bound and the paper is glorious, so soft and fine. I'm thinking it's rice paper. Seriously, I almost wept with joy when I opened it and saw how special it was. I thought to myself, "It's worth being picky about where I send if the end result looks as awesome as this!"

You can order your own copy by contacting NoonPress at noonpress@mac.com or, as Philip Rowland wrote in his email to subscribers & contributers, sending "$10 / 5 pounds / 1000 yen, but please add $4 / 2 pounds / 400 yen for airmail postage and packaging, or 200 yen in stamps for postage within Japan to

Philip Rowland
Noon: journal of the short poem
Minami Motomachi 4-49-506
Shinjuku-ku
Tokyo 160-0012
Japan.

British bank cheques or international postal money orders (made payable to Philip Rowland),
cash and international reply coupons are acceptable forms of payment. The journal receives no funding other than that of the editor and subscribers, so your support would be much appreciated."

Thank you, Philip, for such a fabulous literary magazine and for letting me be a part of it!

Ugh...

I'm having one of those days where I don't really like people. (Generally speaking.)

Does everyone feel this way? Every once and awhile?

Two examples: I'm in a CTLT Web 2.0 Presentation today (I signed up hoping to learn more about del.icio.us), and this idiot's cell phone goes off. (Imagine: he's sitting in the front row in a computer lab. And the presenter is standing next to him.) He doesn't silence the phone and apologize. NO, he TAKES THE CALL!!! HE TALKS ON THE PHONE DURING THE PRESENTATION!!! WTF?!?!

Then I sign into my blog and find this ad about some lady who has a book based off her blog which is a bunch of to-do lists (huh?), much like PostSecret lists secrets. While I do like PostSecret (they rock!), I don't like this lady. (Disclaimer: I'm sure I would like her if I met her, but I'm saying this for effect and to illustrate how I don't like people today.) How do these people make money off of this stupid shit? Who do they know? And how can one call this stupid shit art? I got my freakin' MFA. I have freakin' debt. And I can't get this blog turned into a book to save my life! WTF?!?!

In order to stay sane, I'm brainstorming career changes. I need to getaway from these crazy people.

Sadly, I realize they are everywhere.

I think I need a career change that involves being a hermit.

OK, OK, I know God's trying to make me humble and appreciate others' art and feel love and kindness for all that is good, smart, happy, and wonderful. And all this is really nice. Really, really nice.

But today it's pissing me off.

The more I think about creative non-fiction and writing and art, the more the "I" is becoming so boring and drab to me. Even me as an "I" is Snooze Fest '07. And the more I hear about these specialized books like a to-do-list-blog-turned-book, the more I feel disgusted by art, consumerism, and self exploitation. Which makes me wonder what is the point of art today? And wonder whether I really want to contribute to this whole mess of culture. And wonder why I blog and pick blog topics like these that are way too honest and make me look like a schmuck.

Is this frustration stemming from jealous or some inner-battle to get to the heart of my own art and beyond my "I" in my essays and poems? Or is it some intellectual fight with art and society? Or just end of the semester stress? Or dare I be cliche and chuck it up to PMS?

All sound equally good.

Right now, all I know, for sure, is I need something like a to-do-list-blog-turned-book, so I can work a hell of lot less and play on Facebook a hell of a lot more.