Rest, readings and relaxation.

Yesterday, after the JDRF walk, I found myself at home wanted to just relax and enjoy the little free time I had. Alexis and I attempted to have a video conference, but it wasn't happening. It turns out, too, that the major point of contention is the name -- we don't have one. This baby needs a name! And we don't have one for it.

After she left the conversation, I started watching movies. I saw, for the first time, "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." I had never seen this film before and I loved it. Just loved it.

However, it gave me some minor nightmares; I kept dreaming that donnie was disappearing.

*****

Today was a good day. We slept in, though through most of the sleeping-in part, I was being taunted by Ivan, who hates to let me sleep because he wants love and food. He insists on putting his little kitty claws directly into my face, too. Not that great.

So we got up, fed the cats, and went to breakfast; we ate fast. We came home. We relaxed. I was thankful, because I really felt like I needed some rest this weekend, and between yesterday and today's plans, I wasn't sure I would get any. But I did, and I feel better for it.

I ran some errands, and then came back. MB came by, and we got into my car and drove to Arlington to the NEWS reading at the Regent Theatre. If you need more information about the NEWS, visit http://newsreadings.wordpress.com/.

We arrived and heard three talented writers read their works; it was fantastic. It is really wonderful to be able to engage with people who, like you, write, which is an isolationist sport, in truth. It's nice to see the other players in your area from time to time.

The event was sponsored by these two nice women, Jan and Erin, who got an excellent space and I'm sure have met some excellent writers. So kudos to them for creating community for the otherwise solitary.

I'll be attending more readings. You should go too.

Today....JDRF, Alaine, and the RED SOX ARE DIVISION CHAMPIONS!

Today's the day of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Fund Walk in Boston. I signed up for it; raised 250 or so. Not much, I know, but it's better than the 100 they ask for. I did alright.

My friend Alaine, from college, will be walking with me just for fun.

I woke up feeling terrible today. Not so much terrible as "really high blood sugar." For no reason too. When I went to bed, it was perfectly normal. Wake up -- sky high. Everything hurts.

Lately I've been waking up tired. I'm grateful that isn't the case this morning. Instead, I just feel like crap.

Hopefully some insulin, water, medicine and maybe, eventually, some breakfast will pep me up.....

I expect that Alaine and I will probably have lunch, chill out a while. Then I need to call my friend Matt and arrange to have dinner.

Then, later tonight or tomorrow morning? Alexis and I need to have a video conference over the new magazine. I can think immediately of some people who's work I want to solicit. But we're not at that stage, just yet. I have the CMS 15 by my side -- I'm reading it for work, anyway, but it has a lot of useful information about publishing standards that will be helpful to us. I love that kind of stuff. I love knowing it.

Right now there seems to be a lot going on in the world that is really disappointing: Myanmar & the monks, for one; the Jena 6; and recently I found myself ina furor over the time wasted by the US Congress in passing a bill to support Genreal Petraeus. I don't know what your stance is on the moveon act; it doesn't matter. The point is, Congress could have used that valuable time to do meaningful work, and allowed the members of the body to individually express their support for the general/condemn moveon. A bill was not necesaary.

In better, exhilitaring news:



THE RED SOX WON THE DIVISION LAST NIGHT!

The Yankees bit it against the Orioles -- the Orioles, people - no offense Baltimore, but they've pretty much shown that they aren't capable -- Millar excluded of course! And the Sox beat the Minnesota Twins. Also, did I mention that the Yankees suck? Yeah. They do.

When is liftoff?

I'm not overwhelmed. Yet.

It's amazing how busy you become when you decide....to be busy. I've gone to readings at least once a week for the last three weeks; tomorrow, I'm going to a concert (how will I make it through Thursday? I don't know. I will work all day, I think, and then come home and sleep), a charity walk on Saturday, and attending another reading/lit event on Sunday. After that, there may even be another show I want to go to.

All this, and I'm working on putting together a new literary magazine. Most details are worked out. The name is still at large.

However, more than you think -- or maybe not -- goes into a venture like this, particularly when between only 2-3 people. More than that, we are divided between three states: Massachusetts, California, and Florida. Has there ever been such distance?

However, I'm confident it will work, and more than that, it will succeed. Because I said so. I'm the mom. We're all the mom.

Things are coming together, but all at once, which I can't say I'm used to. It feels wrong to push for different kinds of success all together in a ...life? Month? Year? I dunno what the time frame is or should be.

The best thing is, though, that I'm not afraid of failing or hearing "no" or making mistakes. Those are things I can do, I have done, and I will do again. And so will you and you and you. And all of you. That's what we do.

I can't wait to launch this baby. I can't wait for the flames and the structural support to come cascading down at liftoff.

Hello, My name is

Hello, My Name Is

unfinished-unfolded
but beholden
to homecomers
who wait all day
for rest
but find a piling
arching mess.
I am named
nemesis, not
dressed. (The floor
is wearing
everything).
I hold the coffee stain

You can hold the coffee

and feel the stupid shame

of wearing clothes that are dirty.



(written just now, prompted by a blog by J. O'Neil, never to feel the grain of paper)

I Can Has Personal Growth?

Apparently, I can has it.

I has it.

This evening, I spoke with my dearest and one of my oldest friends. We don't talk as much as we should, because we have ridiculous schedules and distances that keep us apart. It feels like we live on different planets -- more, though, as if she moved to a distant planet where everything is green and bites and insects are gargantuan. From time and time, she comes climbs into the mothership and comes on home.

Anyway, this evening, we were talking on the phone, just before I got a frantic request to edit someone's work for a deadline. Prior to the frantic call, however, we were talking about the poetry reading I attended earlier this week. I told her that I got up there and read, fairly confidently. Not "I'm an amazing poet," but "I'm nervous but I'm going to read anyway."

After I told her about the reading, she commented, "Wow. I am so impressed. Your personal growth over the years is amazing."

She and I attended high school, and some college, together. In college, we were more or less connected at the hip, and ate most meals together. At our school, at some meals, there was a weird karaoke thing, which I don't actually remember. There was also this guy who sang songs and "happy birthday" to students when appropriate. I'm getting away from the point.

She and I got up there and sang a song that was fairly popular at the time. At the chorus, which was fairly difficult to sing anyway, I apparently edged myself behind her, and just cowered there, too afraid to go on. I couldn't go on. I was too nervous, apparently. When she finished the story, I explained that I've just always been afraid of rejection. It's what has kept me from sending work out, from applying for jobs I really wanted, and, sadly, it has even kept me from stating my opinion in inane, harmless conversations with people I know, and even with people I don't. I didn't want to be rejected. It just hurt too much.

When I temporarily left college (for three years!), I got a job at a bookstore in Cambridge. Because I speak relatively clearly, and I have a "polite" voice, I was tapped to do all the store's announcements. Whenever there was a major sale, for instance, I had to announce over the loudspeaker the details of the deal. If there was event -- the same. It was a crash course in public speaking, and I was constantly given positive feedback for my lovely announcements -- from the manager, from customers, from co-workers.

The other thing that happens when you work in retail - it has to happen so you can survive christmas -- is that you learn to walk around like you own the place. Even when I go to stores where the employees clearly have a uniform, I am regularly approached because people assume I work there.

Anyway, my friend makes an excellent point. When we were eighteen or nineteen, even though I was writing poetry like crazy, I would have never gotten up to read it to an audience. Never, ever. In fact, even after my retail experience, I was still very timid; I didn't pursue the creative writing program at my college because I was too afraid of rejection -- by the faculty, the program director, the students. It didn't matter.

However, I got more jobs where I excelled. I was told I excelled. But I was often left without any other feedback, or direction, and if I screwed up, all hell broke loose.

Then I got the job I have now. Just getting that job made me feel as though I accomplished something great. It's a young writer's dream job, more or less. I write and edit articles all day. I work on interesting projects. I get to standardize the processes and set the editorial and style standards. I get to learn. I get clear goals. I am challenged. I am rewarded when I meet the goals, and I am told when improvements are required. My boss told me at my review that writing was my strength. That made me feel a lot better.

Additionally, I made new friends at work, and further developed a relationship with a former co-worker. They gave positive feedback on my creative writing efforts. I get positive, but honest feedback from my pre-existing friends, including the one I didn't quite sing with. They tell me what works and what doesn't. The fact that they give me honest feedback, and that good always comes with the bad, validates me as a writer.

This is what led me to read. The support of my old friends, the support of new friends and working in an environment where I am challenged and rewarded by my work. Ultimately, however, my two closest friends -- including the one with whom I spoke this evening -- helped me get to this point.

I got up, and I read. It went well. I feel validated, and I never could have done it if I didn't have my dear, dear friend egging me on to get up and sing to the world. I couldn't have done it without my other friend telling me she wanted to create a visual representation of my words. I couldn't have done anything without them. I couldn't have done anything without my fiance, who gives me unconditional support, love, and encouragement.

I certainly wouldn't be feeling validated. I cannot credit personal growth to experiences alone; I have to credit the people who grew with me: thanks guys.

Goodness, this is good!

Things are going stupidly well for me. I wish they were going as well for some of my friends.

(1) I've never had a job that I was happy to go to, where I was happy doing the work. In previous jobs, I was often in a good mood while doing the work, but it was incidental. Or I was happy to see the other people at work. Now, though, now I'm completely happy at work. I like the people I work with, I like working with them, and I like the work. It's fantastic.

My friend, Kristin, has a different problem: she works with some very crotchety people who constantly question her, even though she is superb at what she does. Worse, she has deal with ethical issues, where she is clearly in the right, and they, clearly in the wrong.

Another friend just left the job she had because it wasn't for her. However, she's going to pursue other options closer to her interests. I'm proud of her, but I know it was a serious struggle.

Yet another friend is making her own movie. That comes with its own problems.

(2) The Writing Thing. It's moving along, and better than I had hoped. I'm not winning any awards, but part of that is due to the fact that I'm not entering any contests, and I have purposely started small in my submitting. I'm looking forward to more readings and meeting new people, however. As my friend MB said today, "it makes you feel like less of an island."

(3) Grad School. Should I or shouldn't I? I don't know. I want to pursue an MFA in -- you guessed it -- creative writing, but I don't know if it will be worth it for me, since I have this amazing job, I'm building on my skills, and things are going so well. I don't know. I'm really torn. The end of my undergrad career took a serious toll on me; I'm concerned that grad school would too. I still have to work. No matter what. Unless I strike it rich or something. If you have an opinion on this matter, go ahead and voice it. I'd be interested to hear it.

Life in general is just very, very good. It's never been this good, in fact. I'm a little scared of it all crumbling. In the meantime, the walls look solid. I hope they hold.

NOISE! Beautiful NOISE!

I love me a positive response, which is just what I got when I came home and opened my email. Now, mind you, it isn't any sort of guarantee, but it's something lovely that I can re-read.

So I'm excited, but I am trying to stay as calm and as removed as possible. This could be a great week. I'm reading tomorrow night and potentially on wednesday, as well, in my local-general-area. I'm nervous about it. I feel though that I'm starting to put together the life I always wanted, instead of just swallowing fragments of my pride, which, by the way, I smashed apart at an early age. Historically, I've been so embarassed by my persona that I just kept quiet. Now I'm a little louder. I'm almost quiet. Not quite.

I am full of not-yet, the constant process of creating something new. Something I can live in. Gimme shelter, and so forth. I've had shelter for years, it's just been full of holes. But now I've constructed something I'm proud to stand under and call my own. And it's just getting bigger.

Watch the colors come forth when I open my mouth. It will be all fire and light. This is what I dream. Not-yet-what-I-do, but a girl can dream-and act on dreams- until the thing has materialized out of the pieces you found, broke apart, smashed. This is what glue is for. The creation of noise. Meaningful, beautiful, remarkable, insightful, stupid noise.

Spills, Thrills and the Creation of Routine

This week was crazy. But that's beside the point.

I've got fizz in my mouth and caffeine in my brain. More than that, I got work -- writing -- on the brain. The problem is, I seem to only be able to produce large piles of crap for every one solid piece I write. That's not really the problem, actually. That's fairly typical. Not everything -- or even anything -- is going to be gold.

I guess the fact that this week was crazy is the point. It was so busy that I haven't really had any time to write. Right now I'm trying to unwind. It's not working.

I feel like I'm in a perpetual state of nothing-to-say. That's a poor state for a writer to be in, because having something to say is a fundamental quality that writers usually possess. I'm sure it's a temporary situation. I'm simply frustrated -- because I'm tired from all the goings-on -- and want to get rolling but can't focus.

So chilling is the way to go for this weekend, I'm afraid. Chilling, and producing lots of crappy work that will go into the little file on my desk that says "Trash Work." I save it. Just in case it's not as bad as I think.

So even though this week wasn't productive for reading or writing, I did find a host of new resources and did get somethings done:

- I submitted two poems to a magazine
- I submitted another two poems -- my very, very, very best poems, I think -- to a competition. - I found new online zines I really like. I'll link them up later.
- I found a local open mic poetry night. It's next Tuesday.
- I found a host of literary events, including a reading by Junot Diaz next week -- on Wednesday.
- I found a concert I want to go to.
- I found three sites full of tips for writers who are just starting in publishing. Wheeee!

Making that list, I do feel that work is getting done. I have music to pound out as well, and a schedule to create -- and keep.

Let's see if I can do it. Creating order is so damn messy.