Excuses
Mood:  not sure
Now Playing: chatter of kids
Topic: random

I've been getting headaches lately and I know it's from not wearing my eyeglasses enough. It's just hard in the summer - the lenses fog up, I sweat and they slip down my nose all the time, and, and, and... lots of excuses. Lots of excuses to not to wear contacts and not to get lasik surgery. Well, I'm far-sighted and wonder if the procedure would work for me. I should call the facility for lasik in Walnut Creek to make sure. Of course, I would be scared of complications and the procedure just not working. But I guess the possibility of waking up without needing glasses sways a lot of people. With the number of times Ernesto has chewed up my glasses and the number of times I've left them at home, I really should invest in a more permanent solution.

Sidewalk Chalk
Mood:  down
Topic: random

I thought it was a brilliant idea to have the kids draw with sidewalk chalk today, on a sidewalk right outside the building. Most of the kids enjoyed it. Maybe they're just too old for it, because after about 20 minutes, they were done. Short attention spans win again.

Five Year Plan
Mood:  lucky
Now Playing: the white noise of two fans, trying to keep cool
Topic: family

Every now and then, you come up with The Five Year Plan. I don’t have a complete picture of the next five years, but I know a few things for sure (?). First, R has 2 semesters left of school. He’s been going a long time, but he also has been working full time, just became a dad (and is a great one), and run into some financial aid snags along the way. After that, he’ll be headed off to law school. Right now, he’s aiming for out of state, so we’ll be moving again. Because did I mention we’ll be moving within the next 6 months.  Well, maybe.

Before you know it Baba will be a year old. He’s over 7 months now, which is amazing to me. I can’t believe how fast time is going! As far as the next baby, I want to lose weight first, at least 30 pounds or so. Then, when the timing is right (yes, planning around the school year is a factor), hopefully we’ll get pregnant again. Despite the daily injections, having to stop the car in the mornings to vomit on the side of the road, and the restless tossing and turning in the nights, … wait, what was the second half of this sentence? Oh right, I did enjoy pregnancy. And knowing that we can have a positive outcome – a healthy baby at the end of 8-9 months, makes it a bit easier going in. So far, I have had relative success with fertility, so we haven’t had to explore in vitro or other fertility treatments. In general, I would like to continue making babies until I am closer to 40, if possible. I guess we got a late start anyway.

So, that’s my plan. I’m sure life will throw us some curve balls along the way.

Saving Moonlight
Mood:  lazy
Topic: random

I don't know how or why, but I got bitten by the Moonlight bug a while ago. I didn't even watch the first half of the season, but once I discovered the CBS show, I was hooked. I loved the dialogue, the romance, and even the vampire drama. There's something sexy and literary about vampires that I love. It doesn't hurt that the main character is played by one hunky Aussie!

Unfortunately, CBS decided not to continue the show for its fall line-up. If you're an avid or even an occasional TV watcher, you'll remember CBS making other poor choices with its programming in the past. Are there any shows worth watching on CBS anyway? I guess I like the show Numbers, and there are all the CSI shows, but even I get bored with the forensic crime shows. Moonlight was something different, and for someone with a baby and not much time for a social life, it was a great escape on a Friday night.

The amazing bit about the show being cancelled is that Moonlight fans have been coming out of the woodwork! People have been writing letters, sending emails, setting up fan sites, writing fan blogs, boycotting CBS and their advertisers, making their own sliced up videos, and hosting real life events, too! Fans organized blood drives all across the country, not only to help out a worthy cause, but also to bring some attention to the show and help save it. Fans continue to have picnics, rallies, and other awareness type campaigns.

I need one of these shirts!

 

Pretty interesting. Even though some of you may think these people could be organizing for more pressing causes, like civil liberties, animal cruelty, or campaigning for Barack Obama, I think these small protests and organizing efforts help people make real-life connections and get interested in community activism. And isn't fighting CBS,a multi-mullion dollar corporation and part of the larger structure of media influence in this country, a worthy endeavor?

I'm lovin' it! Power to the people!

Routine
Mood:  rushed
Topic: books
Next week, I'm going to really leave work on time. This way I'll be able to exercise - ride my bike around the neighborhood, walk the dogs, or go on the treadmill at the gym. Swimming, too. I plan to definitely go swimming. How else will I make progress on my summer reading?

Poetry Meme
Mood:  lucky
Topic: poetry

I got this poetry meme over at Cam's Commentary. 

1. The first poem I remember reading/hearing/reacting to was a poem I wrote in the 4th grade about tornadoes. I thought it was brilliant, though my teacher was less impressed.

2. I was forced to memorize soliloquies from Shakespeare in school, and when I became a teacher, I had my students memorize and recite soliloquies.

3. I read poetry because I love words. I enjoy word play, sounds, and the way words and meaning can connect with beautiful and painful experiences.

4. A poem I'm likely to think about when asked about a favorite poem is called Rufous-Sided Towhee, just a gem I spied in a literary journal one day. Otherwise, some of my favorite poets are Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, and Pablo Neruda.

5. I write poetry because I need to. Otherwise, the words will choke me and fill me to overflowing. I will be flat and bloated with words. When I write poems, I am skinny and lean, thirsty and hungry like an athlete. It’s not just about self-expression, but it’s my way of processing the world and its madness. 

6. My experience with reading poetry differs from my experience with reading other types of literature. I love fiction, but I think some of the best fiction (other than plot) is composed of concise, lyrical words and phrases. Poetry-like. Still, there are different challenges to every genre and style of writing.

7. I find poetry in magazines, in books, on the internet, on scraps of paper, on napkins, on the back of leaves, in tire treads, and between my toes.

8. The last time I heard poetry, other than hearing myself read a poem out-loud, was listening to a song on the radio. 

9. I think poetry is like the teabag in your tea, the honey you add for taste, the milk for color, and the spoon to mix it all together. Poetry is the swarm of thoughts that you can hardly utter. You’re lucky if you can squeeze the words into your fingertips.

If you're reading this and you love poetry, consider yourself tagged!

Date Free Write
Mood:  energetic
Topic: fiction

Jenn stood on the sidewalk in front of the movie theater, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, fumbling with the phone card in her pocket. She resisted the urge to look at her watch again. Valeria was late. She went over everything in her mind, the way Rafael had called her that morning, excited like a mother hen. What are you wearing, what movie are you going to see, what are you going to tell her about yourself? "Don't tell her about Sarah," he had said. "Not yet."

"Duh," Jenn had replied. But in her heart, she wanted to say, "Ouch." She had just gotten out of bed when he called, before she had even had her morning coffee. Her head was groggy, still full of sleep, but even she had to admit she was excited too.  It would be her first date in six months. She had met Valeria years ago, at a gallery opening. Valeria was then the girlfirend to the artist, a woman who made strange vases shaped like bowling balls. Jenn had come by herself, had run into Rafael and his brother Alfredo. Rafael had whispered to her that Valeria and the artist were on the rocks, that Jenn should try to talk to her. Alfredo shook his head and brought her a dirty martini, too aware of his brother's pushiness and matchmaking tendencies.

Jenn had tried avoiding Valeria all evening, but ran into her in the ladies restroom. It was one of those quick hellos, with Jenn trying to be upbeat and talking about the art. She had noticed that Valeria stood nearly six inches taller than her, that her brown skin glowed against her white sleeveless blouse. Jenn's own reflection in the mirror did nothing to hide what she thought was desperation. Valeria, she was effervescent. When she walked out of the room, Jenn couldn't help but linger over the smell of jasmine and gardenias.

She thought she saw her coming around the corner, so she straightened up and reached for the lip gloss in her pocket. But after a few more steps, Jenn knew the woman coming down the sidewalk was much older, wearing boots that made her look much taller than she really was. "That's not her," Jenn thought. "It's not her."

Sarah. Why had Rafael mentioned Sarah? That was so long ago. Did Jenn talk about her too much, was that it? Did everyone walk on eggshells around her, expecting at any moment for her to fall apart? She took a deep breath. In fact, she knew she was over Sarah. It had been a year since they had split up. Since Sarah had broken it off. It was hard for a while, Jenn admitted. And seeing Sarah, last fall, with a new girlfirend, a younger, prettier version of Jenn, that had been hard. But Jenn was over it. She understood now that Sarah was a selfish person, who could never give Jenn the stability and support that she so desired.

"Screw Rafael. If this woman doesn't show up either, screw her too," Jenn thought. She looked across the street at the brick storefronts. There was a cafe that she could go to, after she had completely given up. Her stomach had started aching anyway. Maybe it was nerves.

"What do I have to be nervous about? I'm a good catch," Jenn reminded herself. She started making a list in her head of all her positive attributes. She was a successful freelance writer, she owned her own apartment, she had a great sense of humor, and she had great dental hygiene. Sarah had always complained about her insistence on flossing after every meal, carrying a pack of floss in her purse. She was a thoughtful lover too, and Sarah had never complained about that.

Jenn finally looked at her watch. Valeria was officially thirty minutes late for their date. Jenn took a final look around, the sidewalk full of people on their way toward appointments, classes, and dates all over the city. Buses churned down the streets like clumsy dinosaurs. The sky overhead was cloudy, but rays of sunshine still poked through here and there. She could still make a nice outing for herself, a tasty sandwich and bowl of soup, read the newspaper, and drink a latte. There was no reason she had to dwell on this. It wasn't a rejection, it was a missed opportunity.

She walked to the edge of the sidewalk, waited for an opportunity to cross the street to the coffeeshop, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned and there Valeria stood, breathless, breathtaking. Her eyelashes were longer than Jenn had remembered, her lips full and red, her black hair layered around her face like laughter.

"I'm so sorry," Valeria began. "The traffic was so horrible. I'm so glad you're still here."

"No problem," Jenn managed to say, an uncontrollable smile spreading across her face. All the tension and thoughts of the last half hour were gone. "We could still probably see that movie."

Valeria looked up at the marquee and eyed the surrounding street for a minute, while Jenn held her breath. "Want to just grab some lunch over there?"

Jenn smiled and nodded silently. They crossed the street, just as the last of the clouds moved away and sunshine filled the air. "It's her," Jenn thought.

***

If anyone else wants his/her persona in print, leave me a comment with your name and age.

Submission
Mood:  flirty
Now Playing: Michael Jackson - best of
Topic: poetry
My next mini-project is to get together all the poems I've written lately, revise a bit, print them out, and start submitting them to literary magazines. It's been a while since I've been published. You can go see my name on the "poets published" page at the Common Ground Review website. Yay internet!

I'm actually impressed with myself, with the number of poems I've written the last few months. There were YEARS when I didn't write much at all. And I didn't have a baby then. Maybe it's the blogging, maybe it's just on my mind more. When I'm writing poems, I feel so open, kind like during sex. You let go of the stress and worry, fall into the kiss, into the touch, into the quakes of pleasure. Poems can be like that. At least good ones. And I hang onto the sounds of words and phrases like those last tremors. If you're open enough, you lose yourself and find yourself all at once.

Payday Loan Poem
Mood:  cheeky
Topic: poetry

He was sitting on the bench
waiting to go home,
waiting for his girl,
she was waiting for that Payday Loan.

He was always waiting for something,
waiting like a game,
waiting for tomorrow,
but tomorrow will be the same.

The sign said No Fax Payday Loans,
fast and simple.
But hadn't he fallen for that before,
Caught with a smile and a dimple.

Before long, she was back on his arm,
maybe his luck had changed.
The sun was setting on him,
the lights silver, green, and strange.

***
Okay, was that the worst poem I ever wrote? It was an exercise in rhyme, meter, and word choice at least.

One Weird Quiz
Mood:  incredulous
Topic: poetry
 
You are John Ashbery. People love your work but have no idea why, really. You are respected by all kinds of scholars and poets. Even artists like you.

I found his poems at poets.org (and a better picture), and just have to disagree. First, my poems are so not that long and dense! I was going to copy and paste one of his poems in this post, but... I dare not. I don't know what the other choices were. If I had my say, it'd be Sylvia Plath or Anne Sexton.