For the record

I'm proud to be a wicked alice contributor and a future dancing girl press author.

Making like a tourist

It's been such a whirlwind year (okay, only 10 months) that I haven't gotten to see as much of Chicago as I feel I should have. That's why this week is tourism week for me. Some of the places I plan to check out are: The Field Museum (maybe--it's a little pricey and I'm on a budget), The Museum of Contemporary Art (I've already been, but it's free on Tuesdays, so that's where I'll be today), The Lincoln Park Zoo (free every day! And I hear there are some really interesting gardens/conservatories adjacent to it), The Art Institute (which I've also been to already, but didn't spend as much time there as I'd have liked. Plus Ilya Kaminsky is reading on Thursday night, which is also when admission is free). One of these days while I'm downtown, I'll check out the Harold Washington Library on Mary B's recommendation. Also, the Shedd Aquarium just reopened, but it's kind of expensive and I'm not really into fish, so I'll probably skip that one for now.

I suppose a real tourist would do some shopping, or at least some window shopping, so I'll see if I can fit that in. But frankly, I get alot more excited about $9 tee shirts at Target than I would about the haute-coture that I can look at on Michigan Ave.

More importantly, I'm hoping the weather forecast for the week (rain daily) is wrong, because I wouldn't mind wandering around Millennium Park a bit, too.

randomness & craigslist trickery

I did not spend the day writing as I'd hoped yesterday. As a matter of fact, I can't really remember what I did all day yesterday. I revised a couple of poems, including one really old one (summer 06, I think), went for a walk, read about half of Revolutionary Road. The rest of the day involved listlessly sitting in front of the computer or laying around. It was the first hot day of the year--84 degress and muggy--and my apartment is an inferno. I'm going to have to make a hot weather escape plan so I don't spend the whole summer fanning myself and whining like Scarlett O'Hara.

*

I live too far from UIC (not to mention most of my friends) and pay too much for my tiny apartment, so I'm going to be moving in July. Oh, how I love moving. I'm looking in the Logan Square area, so when I search on craigslist, that's what I type in. And this morning, I found my dream apartment--2 bedrooms, marble counters, hardwood floors, dishwasher & washer & dryer in the apartment,--all for $100 less than I'm paying now for a studio. Too good to be true, right?

I'm anxiously waiting to hear back from the landlord when I start mapping things out. And I realize that this apartment is not actually in Logan Square, only sort of near it (about 2 miles away, which should be not-that-far, but in Chicago feels very, very far). And the appeal of Logan Square, besides a whole bunch of my favorite people living there, is the close proximity to the blue line, which in turn makes it a quick and easy commute to UIC. Alas, my dream home is not anywhere near the blue line, hence making my dream home not dreamy at all.

If I hear back from the landlord, I'll probably still check it out, but...sigh. It was so much better before I looked it up on a map.

cultivating joy

I forget sometimes I chose this life. I made it. I had a choice: find a job or go back to school. Stay in Akron and feel safe or move away and...who knows. I chose school. I chose away. And I forget sometimes that I can also choose how I feel about it.

A few days ago, I was talking to my Mom and I told her I hadn't done much that day--just watched a movie, read a book, played around on the internet a while, took a nap. And what did my mother say? "Oh, that would be so nice. To do what you want, when you want." Yes! That's it! That's why I'm doing this. Because the things I love--reading, writing--require quiet, and solitude, and great expanses of open time. And I have that.

It's scary here. I've been a loner for a long time; I've gotten used to spending days in my apartment without talking to anyone. But here, in my new city where I still feel so much like a visitor, I'm afraid to be alone too long. I'm afraid I'll disappear here. I'm afraid no one will miss me.

But then I remember. I made this. This is what I want. A room of my own. A summer with only part-time work, the rest for being a poet--a reclusive, introspective, quiet and still poet.

The wind blowing through my sliding door smells springtime sweet and somehow I've come to love the sound of the train rushing by--just far enough away that I don't always recognize it as train--and why, how, do I allow myself to forget sometimes that I am the luckiest girl in the world?

Chicago Poetry Events?

Hey Chicagoans! Does anyone know if there is a central place to look for Chicago Poetry (or fiction) events? You know, a Chicago Poetry Calendar or something of the sort?

You see, since I've lived here, I've missed, oh, I don't know, 100 or so cool events because I don't know where to look for announcements. If there isn't such a thing, I think I'm going to have to create one.

*

Huh. Maybe I shoulda done a google search first. chicagopoetry.com seems to have it covered. And they have a blog.

a sense of urgency?

Despite the general discomfort of riding a bus, I love the trip between Cleveland and Chicago because of views like this one. The megabus is a double decker, so the perspective is totally different than in a car and I just can't get enough of it. It's hard to take good pictures, though...

*

Anyway. I'm back in my teeny tiny studio after having spent 5 days with my parents in Chatham, hanging out with Mom, playing with Maxi, the river dog (who is in the jumping/biting phase of puppy-hood, which means my arms look like I've been through a shredder), and arguing with my dad about, well, everything. As you can tell from my earlier post, Dad's a republican, and he likes to watch the news. Now that the election/inaugruation is over, I've gone back to my general disinterest in politics, but when I'm around him, I remember why I cared so much about the election, and think maybe I should start paying more attention the rest of the time.

My time in Ohio was not in any way relaxing (despite the fact that I managed to get about 10 hours of sleep each night) because of all the errand running and trying to see folks I hadn't seen since August (apologies to anyone I missed! There's just never enough time!), and trying to keep up with my homework as well (also a major fail). But it was good, nonetheless, to be home, where places and faces are familiar and people know my history. Had a long talk with a prof who's known me since my undergrad days who gave me some really good advice on how to deal with my angst over my new program--and it was advice that someone who hasn't known me for 8 years wouldn't have been able to give, I don't think. Also spent one evening with my bff since 5th grade which was long, long over due.

But now I'm back. And strangely enough, feeling quite at home. I was oddly proud of myself last night for my ease in hailing a cab at Union Station, and also for knowing a couple of different ways to get home if I hadn't felt like taking a cab (but it was 11pm, cold, and I was dragging a giant suitcase, so I did feel like taking a cab). I'll never give up my self-identification as a country-bumpkin or small town girl, but I guess I'm getting pretty good at playing the part of a city girl when I need to. Everyone I saw in Ohio (who were, for the most part, people I hadn't seen since I moved) wanted to know if I liked Chicago...and I feel like a traitor to myself when I want to say yes. So here you go (esp. Brandi & Mary): I like Chicago. I get fed up with Chicago pretty quickly sometimes, but I get fed up with my parents and my sisters, too, and I would lay down in front of a CTA bus for them. I won't deny that the transition has been difficult--exhausting and soul-crushing at times, even--but I'm okay with where I'm at, finally. It only took seven months...

*

And that brings me back to the present, and the impetus for this post's title. I made a tiny little dent in my gargantuan to do list for spring break, and now have less than 48 hours until I'm back on campus for Week 11. I don't think it's possible to conquer the to do list in that time, and I'm wondering when my sense of urgency is going to kick in. The problem is that a lot of what I planned to accomplish is based on my own deadlines, not deadlines that anyone will force me to meet. However...if I don't do these things now, they're just going to pile up, and when else am I going to have time? It's 9:24 on Saturday morning and already, I'm procrastinating (is it really necessary to write a blog post this long ever--let alone when I'm swamped?). Twilight is sitting on top of the pile of mail begging me to watch it (even though everyone says it's crap) and I'd really like to spend today lounging around...but class identity (paper 1) and neo-confessional poetry (if there is such a thing) (paper 2) and grading are all calling my name. Blah! I don't wanna.

So, trying right now, thisverysecond, to motivate myself to stop loafing in my pjs and go to the library (which, by the way, will be at least a 45 minute commute each way) to pick up a couple of key sources (one for each paper), which I then must force myself to read today so that tomorrow I can start my rough drafts. Or something like that. But I just poured a fresh cup of coffee.

Yep, still can't find that sense of urgency I'm looking for.

Break-up/Break-down/Break-through

I constantly struggle with how personal to get on this blog. My first impulse: totally personal. Then I remember that I'm also hoping to someday use this as a site for self-promotion and think that I should stick to academics and poetry.

Well, that's not very much fun. And while I've never had a ton of readers, I think there's even fewer these days. Is it possible that people actually prefer my whining and introspection? Hopefully, because today, that's what you're going to get.

*

I've been sad lately. Sad about my break-up, sad about some other personal relationships that aren't/can't be what I thought/hoped, sad about being away from my family, etc. And what is surprising to me in all of this is learning to distinguish "sad" from "depressed." Having been diagnosed with chronic depression at 21 (and having self-diagnosed years before that), I am programmed to label all bad feelings: Depression. But that's not it. There's a difference between chronic and acute that I never had to learn. Right now, my sadness is directly related to events in my life, in a way that previously wasn't true.

I don't know what that all means, but it's something I'm trying to figure out. There's a lot I'm trying to figure out. Like who the hell I am after this last crazy year. This time last year, I was waiting anxiously to hear back about my PhD apps (I think I might have already heard from UIC, but I'm not sure) and everyone I talked to said they hoped I would end up in Chicago (well, maybe not everyone, but a lot of people) because small town girls like me need to live in a big city once in their lives. What? Says who? Something about being in unfamiliar territory being good for your work--a shock to the senses. Well, I still wonder why Chicago was supposed to be better for that than say, Knoxville, TN, or Tallahassee, FL (or any of the five other places I applied to). I'm way burnt-out on public transportation, smelly homeless people, and cement. Why couldn't I be someplace where a car isn't an inconvenience? Where there's grass in places other than public parks? Where you can actually see horizon once in a while (across the lake doesn't count)?

But back to the original question--how has this past year changed me? I haven't figured that out yet. I'm probably tougher, I guess, street-smarter. A little bit braver. I can do tequila shots without training wheels now, and drink PBR just as fast as anyone else sitting around Lil Joe's on a Wednesday night. I'm healthier--I quit smoking. But am I a better poet like everyone said I would be? Hell no. I haven't written a poem that I'm ready to submit since I've moved here, and it's been over six months. Maybe I've become a tougher critic. But mostly, I think being out of my comfort zone has forced me to focus on survival to such an extent that I don't know how to tap into my new/boundary-pushing experiences in a creative way.

I'm also less confident than I was when I got here, and I've never been a terribly confident person. I'm afraid to speak my mind in class because I don't want to disagree with the profs (and I usually do) unless I'm sure I can argue my side (and I usually can't), I constantly feel like I'm on the outside of an inside joke because I haven't read the right book or essay, I doubt my own abilities as a student/scholar/poet in ways that I never have before. On the other hand, I have increased confidence in my ability to teach and in my desire to teach. But the balance isn't good. Maybe that's it--balance. I can do tequila without training wheels but I can't do PhD work without them. I'm uncentered and off-kilter.

It's not all bad, though. My cohort (that's what they call the incoming class here) is amazing: lots of smart, interesting people who are as good at gossip and silliness as they are at theory and criticism. I'm heading back to Ohio on Friday for a much needed dose of family and country living. And even if I'm not doing work that I totally love, I'm being challeneged and pushed and do have some small bit of faith that eventually I will get out on the other side feeling smarter, more in control of my poetic talents, more eloquent, more prepared for my career as a poet and professor. I've never been so great at the waiting part, at the struggling through. I like instant gratification (who doesn't?) and I'm frustrated that the big changes haven't happened yet, I guess.

Still, I'm waiting for that break-through. I need some poetry to gush out of me too fast to edit. I need to come up with a kick-ass paper idea that I can get excited about researching and writing. I need to meet someone (a prof, another student?) who will click with me, my work, who will get what I'm trying to do and know how to beat it out of me. I'm freaking tired of floundering. I'm tired of writing half-baked drafts that bore me when I go back to them. I'm tired of being the new kid, the country girl who's homesick all the time, the MFA who doesn't know how to talk about theory. I just don't know how to fix any of it. I guess I'll just keep doing what I'm doing until I figure it out.

*

And just for good measure--here's my "F-you, Chicago" song (and when I say Chicago, I mean my whole new life, just so you know. I'm over hating the city, for the most part (besides what I mentioned above).)

Hopeful

I know I've been quite the downer around blogland the last few months, but things may be turning around a bit. I know it's only week one, but Spring 09 is shaping up to be 1000 times better than Fall 08. Here's why:

1. Instead of taking Teaching College Writing, I'm teaching college writing. Teaching isn't my #1 calling, but I think I'm getting better, more comfortable, and because UIC requires the second semester of comp to be theme-based, I'm teaching a subject I like (instead of straight-up argumentation). The topic: work and class identity. Sound familiar?
2. I'm taking a class on politics and rhetoric (instead of politics and aesthetics like last semester) and while I still hate talking about politics, I think this class is going to be bearable because a) we're reading about political economy, which could, theoretically, have an impact on my poetry--or at least my exam lists, and b) the prof this semester is much more interested in TEACHING than the prof was last semester. He seems totally okay with the fact that I start to twitch when I hear names like Foucault and Derrida, and wants to know if it takes me too long to do the homework.
3. The Past Decade. This is my contemporary poetry class and there's zero overlap of anything I've read before, on my own or for another class. Shows how much poetry is getting published these days... But more importantly, the prof here focuses much more on poetic movements than I'm used to, and this is good because I don't know crap about them. Also, there are some 4th and 5th year PhD students auditing the class and they are so smart! I feel a little like I did when I was an 8th grader in high school marching band. The seniors were so grown up, so cool, and I just couldn't wait to be like them.
4. Although I would, much to my dismay, still rather be in Akron, I don't hate Chicago anymore. Although I would prefer to see my boyfriend and my family more than once a month or every six weeks, I have people here that I can count on now. And there's so much to do, instead of crying I can just distract myself with annotated bibliographies and color coding my files! Plus, in just a couple of weeks, practically everyone I know is coming to Chicago for AWP. It'll be like transplanting Akron.

I really, really hope I keep feeling good about this, because doubting major life decisions is no fun.

Snowbound, part 2

Snowbound

It's an icky, slushy mess out there, and John's flight got canceled, so he's stuck until tomorrow. I think we'll brave the snow for Fornello for dinner tonight...maybe.

P.S. Have I told you lately how much I hate public transportation?
P.P.S. I would rather use public transportation than drive in this sh*t, though. So I guess I should just shut up.

A new leaf?

I woke today at 7:30 for no apparent reason, and couldn't fall back to sleep. This is, in essence, a good thing because starting Monday, I have to be out my door at 8:30 every day. I know that for those of you with day jobs or children this is no big deal, but for me, it is. I like to sleep in or at least wake up slowly and stay in my pjs for a couple of hours before I have to go out into the real world. Alas, this semester I have to learn how to be a morning person.

One of the stranger adjustments I've had to make here in Chicagoland is the time difference. It's only an hour, but you'd be amazed how much difference that makes. I noticed right away that the summer sunset was happening earlier than I wanted it to, and after DST ended...ugh! It's dark at 4pm. Stranger still is that late night TV starts at 11--and this in a city where some bars are open until 4am. What could possibly be "late night" about 11?

I don't know if it's a pavlovian response or what, but when I watch the evening news (which should be on at 11 but is on at 10), I start getting sleepy. So--Chicago is turning me into a morning person, because I'm hardly ever up past 11. I guess this is a good thing. Except that I don't know, without my late nights, what my best time of day for writing/thinking is.

That's why I'm here at 8:30 am. Because I can't jump right into working, and blogging seems like an easy transition. Now let's see if I'm ready to work on that syllabus...

Back in Chicago

After a few days of tourist-y revelry with my bf and a couple of friends, I'm sitting in my apartment enjoying a rare moment of solitude. John (he's decided not to be annonymous anymore) is walking to Jewel because he's stir crazy, even though the peapod guy should be here any minute, and I'm trying to wake up and start getting something done. Back to school next Monday, and I have some pre-Week 1 homework to do and some class prep as well. Unfortunately, I'm thoroughly in vacation mode and having trouble switching gears.

So, instead of answering emails and doing work, I'm going to post some pics.

Me & John at Tweet, the best place for breakfast ever.

The lox platter. I'm not a fan of salmon, but it sure looked pretty.

These bloody marys are amazing. They use Stoli Pepper and wasabi! Yum.

I was so busy taking pictures of our food and drink that I forgot to take pictures of people. Here's Little Eric showing off his scotch flight at Bar on Buena.

Dollop

I think I just fell in love...Dollop, the cutest little coffee shop I've ever seen, has been hiding just a five minute walk away from home. The review on the website says:

"Dollop is a true “coffee home:” a coffee shop for those intent on setting up shop with laptops, newspapers, books and caffeine for hours at a time...The back wall contains an unassuming threshold that leads to a comfy cove with couches, library-like tables and bookshelves: seemingly designed for those who would go to the library if not for the anti-noise and anti-beverage laws."

If only I had found this place sooner! It's like they built this little cove for me. I hate working in libraries, but I've found that my apartment is just not conducive to hours and hours of studying time. Especially this week, since there's a crew literally hanging outside my window repairing the bricks and the balconies and making a lot of noise and dust.

An hour ago, I was ready to go awol, rent a car and drive to Ohio just to get the f$#% out of the city, but now, I think I can wait the two weeks until I'm supposed to be going home for my first visit in what feels like years.

Thank you, thank you Dollop! You may have just saved my life (or at least my sanity)!

Updates and stuff

You may have noticed I changed my profile pic. The other one was getting old, I was tired of looking at it. But more importantly, the new one is, I think, a funny little collage of new and old. I'm at Lake Michigan, my favorite part of Chicago, and I'm wearing my lucky Akron sweatshirt (many, many good things have happened to me in this shirt). Maybe this pic will be a sign of good things to come...

Like the acceptance letter I got in the mail yesterday from Hiram Poetry Review. I guess it's not all lost in the USPS. I had a near miss with HPR about a year and a half ago--first time I ever had to withdraw a poem and the editor said he was just getting ready to send an acceptance. So, when they say "send more work," you should really send more work! Now, if I could just get myself to sit down and put some new submission packets together...but not today. Today is for Jorie Graham, Kafka and Deleuze, and Longenbach.

And voter registration...aargh. My Ohio registration was way out of date (try 2004 out of date...yes, I'm one of those awful people who only votes during presidential elections) so I tried to update it at the same time I requested an absentee ballot. Well, the good ole paper pushers lost my paperwork, so now I'm not registered in Ohio and today is the last day to register in Illinois. Hopefully the fact that I don't yet have an Illinois ID is not a problem. If it is, well, you can't say I didn't try.

And now, I hear the laundry room calling. Yes, I was up today before 6 am and already have laundry going. How ambitious of me. But I'll leave you with a little bit of scenery. I've never seen any lake the color it was on Saturday, and even though the leaves haven't turned here yet, I think this picture looks like fall.

Retail Therapy

I went to Target today...my first non-grocery shopping excursion in Chicago...and bought new shoes and new sweaters and spent way too much money. And I just wrote a poem I think I like. Also a first since I moved to Chicago. Coincidence, or direct connection? I guess we'll never know.

Two Steps Behind

I've been in Chicago (more or less) for a month, now, and I just can't seem to get a good rhythm going. I'm constantly rushing to finish my homework on time, constantly tired, constantly disoriented. At least it's constant, right?

I haven't been posting much because I'm trying not to be a whiner. Things are good...I'm just not used to them yet. So, in the spirit of being positive, here's a list of things that aren't stressing me out:

• Having dinner with Brandi last Friday, & realizing I am not the only small town girl who was/is freaked out by living in the city
• Peapod grocery delivery.
• It's fall in Chicago. Rainy yesterday, but today, cool, crisp, and sunny. My favorite weather.
• My poetry workshop. It's different than what I'm used to, and I'm still feeling a little blocked, but I think it's going to be very, very good for me.
• Hanging out at Lil' Joes on Wednesday nights. This is an Ohio-esq bar. PBR on tap, cheap food, no loud music. Just loud, drunk English geeks talking about politics, poetry, and gossip. It's almost like going to Pints!

Well, it's a short list, but it's better than nothing, right? I'm hoping every week, every month, every semester will get easier. They call this semester PhD bootcamp around here. I guess, if I can make it through this, I'll be ready for anything. (Ask me how I feel about that 2 years from now when I'm studying for prelims.)

Now, off to read Lukacs. Fun, fun.

City vs. Country Living: What I've Learned During My First Week in Chicago

1. Animals in the country have better manners. They eat (and poop) in the woods, not on your porch. And they don't leave skanky chicken bones on your lawn chair.
2. In the country, no one serenades you on your way to work (except Justin Timberlake and Carrie Underwood). But in Chicago, the subway minstrel somehow knows who you are and sings "Sara Smiles" as you walk onto the platform.
3. Lack of touch is bad for your immune system. I've decided the cold I have is a direct result of not hugging for seven full days.
4. When you have to carry your groceries home from the store, you lose weight. Who wants to carry a 12 pack of Mountain Dew and a carton of Ben & Jerry's down the street?
5. Even though you're sure your car won't be there when you go looking for it, it's still there. And driving in Chicago isn't that bad as long as you don't cross any bus drivers.
6. Walking home from the el after dark isn't scary at all.
7. Everyone tells you that Chicago is a city with a "Midwestern attitude." If that means not making eye contact and only speaking when forced to, then I guess they're right. But this place is really not as friendly as people said it would be.
8. Everyone has a long commute, so using "I have an hour long train ride" as an excuse for the cushy teaching schedule isn't going to work.
9. Going to the bar after class is a lot more expensive here, but you can drink more because you don't have to drive home.
10. It is entirely possible to convince yourself that Chicago is nothing more than your 4 block walk to the el and the immediate vicinity of the UIC campus, but if you do this, you will regret it.

Moving to Chicago: A Photo Essay

The sky was falling over Indiana the day I picked up my keys. That night, they cancelled the Cubs game because of tornado warnings and torrential rain. Boyfriend & I waited out the storm in the pink-lighted Nick's Uptown, the closest bar to my new place.

Many thanks to ZS for the table-top inspiration. Boyfriend wants to remain annonymous, although most of my faithful readers are also facebook friends (or real life friends) and know who he is anyhow.
Me: tired, frizzy-haired, trying to play the role of detached urbanite.
And the studio. It's pretty spacey now that I have everything (almost everything) put away, but I'm still having trouble getting used to sleeping five feet away from my front door.
Here's the alley my balcony looks out on. Not much of a view, but I feel a little like a character from West Side Story when I'm out there.
Last but not least, something Akron definitely doesn't have: authentic Italian food (even cannoli!) delivered right to your front door! This is the Pasta Romantica, minus the shitake mushrooms, from Fornello. (I don't have a kitchen table yet, so for the time being, I'm eating at my desk.)

All in all, if you ignore my random sobbing fits, things are going well. I'm having some trouble adjusting, but everyone seems friendly (with the exception of the receptionist in my building--the one person who is paid to be nice) and the el is all right as long as I avoid rush hour, and I think I'm really going to enjoy the program...which is, after all, the reason I'm here. So, if you catch me weeping, don't worry. I'm just processing.

First Night

So, this is my first night alone in the big city. I'm a little nervous. I think, if I remember right, I'm always a little nervous my first night in a new place, but I'm extra nervous this time. Lots of strange noises at night around here. Lots of scary squirrels and raccoons (one of which likes to poop on my balcony) and who knows what else out there. Hopefully the exhaustion beats the anxiety, because I have to get up early for orientation tomorrow.

More later. With pictures. And maybe a mention or two of poetry if we're lucky.

I don't know if you noticed...

but there's a slight change of location in my profile. That's right, folks, I officially live in Chicago ...although I'm typing this from lovely West Akron. After a summer of living out of my suitcase, this is my last trip before I buckle down and start working on my PhD.

I'm not sure I have anything interesting to say right now, I just needed a blog fix. I'm happily done with my summer job from hell and almost ready to start the next phase of my life...but not before I try to say goodbye to some folks around here. I'm not very good at goodbyes, and I've never had to do it in such large quantities. There are going to be some tears this weekend, that's for sure.

Oh, I'm too tired for this. I'm sure I'll be back to my regular blogging habits in a week or two and will update you all on the move/new school/etc.