14

I have 14 solid pages, plus 8 crappy pages for the working class paper.
I have 19 crappy pages for the Dorothea Lasky paper.

I want to finish them both tonight.

I want to be in bed by 2am.

I'm wondering how far I have to lower my standards in order to achieve those goals.

I'm aiming for a 3.0 GPA this semester. Is that bad enough to get kicked out of grad school?

And yep, I'm still trying to quit smoking. Which is to say I'm not actually a non-smoker. Because non-smokers don't pace around their apartments wondering why they quit smoking in the first place. Do they?

Don't worry. After 8 months I'm not about to go effing it up now.

I think I wrote something on this blog once about how I enjoyed writing papers. I was clearly delusional that day.

Tiny Triumph

During my first year of grad school, I had to do a presentation on Foucault's Power/Knowledge. I didn't get it at all and spent hours and hours rereading with my dictionary in my lap. I literally cried. I had quit smoking a couple of months before, but I found myself in my car, driving to the gas station, and buying a pack of Camels without even thinking about it.

Since then, I cringed at the sound of Foucault's name. And blamed him for my failed attempt at becoming a non-smoker.

I'd like you all to know that I just finished a reading response of his Biopolitics lectures and didn't want to light up even once. I don't know what I'm happier about--that I pretty much understood what I read, or that I'm finally really a non-smoker. So there, Foucault. So there, RJ Reynolds.

For the record...

It has been 21 days since I joined the ranks of non-smokers around the world.

I don't know what I'm more proud of...quitting or refraining from whining about it on my blog. It's gonna stick this time.

I tried to stay away

but my blogging addiction has to be fed.

*

Speaking of addictions. I've smoked since I was 19, but I hid it from my mom until I was 26. After I confessed, she asked me to continue pretending I didn't smoke around her. That lasted for a while, but when I spend a lot of time at her house, it's really hard to watch my family go out to the porch to smoke. And my refraining may be part of the reason Carla and I often want to kill each other.

So, I decided since I would be at Mom and Dad's for 3 days, I would quit pretending. But still, every time I went outside, I felt guilty. And embarrassed. Is shame a good reason to quit? I've heard good things about this. Maybe I'll try it.

*

Thanksgiving was good. The house is very small, though, and I am clausterphobic. All of my sisters were in attendance, as were 5 of my seven nieces and nephews and 2 of their 4 kids. Plus all three of my brother-in-laws. It was crowded. I love having a big family, but sometimes it's not good for the recluse in me. I wonder where Thanksgiving will be next year. Will Mom and Dad be in Florida then? Will I be far, far away in PhD-land? Who knows.

Oh, that reminds me. I've known my sister Carla's husband since I was 13 or 14, which was long before they started dating. He's a pretty quiet guy most of the time, but when he loosens up, he's often quite sarcastic and a little mean (perfect for my sister, really). We get along pretty well, but 98% of the time, if we're talking, he's teasing me. So imagine my surprise when, during dinner the other day, he said something nice (and not even a little sarcastic). I was talking about applying for PhD's and said "if I get into any programs..." and he said, "when you get into a program..." I know. It doesn't seem like much, but if you knew Ryan, you would know that was a pretty big compliment. Another thing to be thankful for.

*

I've finally procrastinated long enough that I'm motivated to get things done. I have 2 book reviews due on Wednesday and a presentation in Non-Fiction a week from Monday. Plus that nasty personal statement and my writing sample for PhD apps. And the apps themselves. But I like filling out forms.

*

I'm graduating in 2 weeks. Well, I guess it's technically 3 weeks until commencement, but I'm not going to that. My graduation reading is in 2 weeks, though, and that feels more official and important. I'm still working myself up for a really sentimental MFA-in-review post that will be full of nostalgia and fun pictures. Mary doesn't understand my love for all things sentimental (cheesy pop songs, romance novels, chick flicks, etc.) but I bet she'll get a little teary-eyed when she reads my graduation blog.

After that, there are going to be some changes around here. For one thing, my "fledgling poet" tag line has to go. And I still want to think of a new name for the blog (suggestions welcome). I'm also going to go through old posts and censor some things because I'm going to have my Comp 2 students write their own blogs next semester and I don't want them finding my "I don't know how to teach" posts. Also planning to update my background and blogroll. And maybe trying to do some more po-bizy posts.

*

Okay. I got my blog fix. Back to Baptist Confidential.

yeah. it's one of those blogs.

All semester, I was playing this little smoke-don't smoke game with myself, and for most of the semester, I was doing pretty well. A couple cigarettes a week, sometimes up to a pack a week, which was way better than my usual pack a day. Unfortunately, the last three weeks have gotten the best of me and I am once again a full time smoker. Except, I decided today was the day to get back on the wagon, and it is no fun. It's awful how quickly cigarettes become an extension of my body and I don't know what to do without them. I'm very frustrated because I wasted 4 months of really good progress of learning how to deal with my cravings and breaking the habit and all. Obviously, I wasn't 100% successful because I rarely went more than 4 or 5 days without at least one cigarette, but I'd made progress. And now I feel like I'm back at square one. And annoyed about it.

It's weird, though. I'm not annoyed that it's difficult to quit. I get that. I'm annoyed that I have to quit. I'm annoyed that one of my favorite things to do is eventually going to kill me. Unless I stop doing it. Blah. Would I stop writing if that caused cancer? Nope. So why do I have to stop this?

Alright, enough feeling sorry for myself. I need to find a distraction. Like going through my storage room and purging my files. That will keep me busy for a few hours.

Show and Tell

This is what happens when Sara has too much to do:

Imagine my whole apartment (and the back seat of my car) looking just like this.



And this is why I wish I still smoked:






Of course, my favorite is the sexy librarian. Why does Camel have to send me free goodies two months after I quit?

when poem becomes blog post

I wrote this list as if it were the beginning of a poem. Then I realized it wasn't.

What I want tonight:

• A pack of cigarettes.
• A heavy glass ashtray.
• My favorite bic.
• A bottle of Baileys.

I've been a pretty good quitter (with the exception of a few drunk nights over break) but after one week of school, I remember why I am never a successful non-smoker. Don't get me wrong, I'm not throwing in the towel, not going back to my little foes...but oh how I miss them. (Yes, Courtney, if you're out there, I stole "little foe" from you.)

It seems that cigarettes and creativity are entwined together and with the urge to write comes the urge to light up. I'm trying to write...but my left hand keeps creeping away from the keyboard, looking for the cigarettes that haven't been there for...almost six weeks!! It's so stupid to sit here lamenting the loss of another vice--the same way I pine over men who are no good for me. I seem to have eradicated those men from my life, but can I do the same with my Camel Menthol Lights?

There is a void.

Excuse me while I rant for a moment

I'm trying to quit smoking. For those of you who don't know me, I do this several times a year. Each time, I believe it will stick. I don't intend to drive my friends, family and coworkers crazy with my rapid-fire mood swings and random bitchieness, only to start smoking again two weeks later. I really believe I can do it, every time. This time is no different. The thing is, I have a lot of pet peeves, and when I'm nicotine deprived, those pet peeves become, well, things that really get me going.

Here are just some of the things that have annoyed me today:

1. Rosie O'Donnell and this little incident. I don't think Rosie was using all her brain cells during that segment, but I think the offended parties may be going a little overboard.

2. Payment Books. When I was leasing my car, I got a bill in the mail every month. Now that I have refinanced that same car, I have a payment book, which means a) I have to remember when it is time to write the stupid check and b) I have to use my own envelope. I don't know why they can't just continue mailing me the damn bill.

3. Mailmen (I'm sorry, Mail Carriers) not coming at their regularly scheduled time, which means that above mentioned bill did not get picked up when it should have, because the mailman (person) came two hours early today.

4. Wonky Ohio Weather. I thought it was supposed to be warm today, but apparantly, only unitl noon. Now it is cold, very cold, and windy. But wait. Tomorrow, it's supposed to be 58!

5. Christmas shopper traffic. 'nuf said.

6. The Christmas/Holiday Tree, Chrismakah, Chrismakwanzakah, debate. Celebrate what you want to celebrate. Call it what you want to call it. And in the spirit of the season, be forgiving when someone wishes you a happy fill-in-the-blank and you don't celebrate fill-in-the-blank. Its like this. They are wishing you happiness, not trying to convert you.

Alas, I can't think of anything else to whine about. On the upside, I've already saved $8. I will do my best to make this my last craving-induced blog post.