Day 1 wrap up

Revised three poems today. Or rather, turned three crappy drafts into poems. I'd call my first day in the country a success.

I also laid out in the sun, got a little color (sorry sun-screen fanatics, I'm all about tan lines) and read a romance novel. But don't tell. I should have been reading Ted Hughes or Karl Marx.

By the way, Nora Roberts circa 1983 is phenomenally bad. I mean, way, way worse than Nora Roberts circa 2003. Apparently, even romance novelists have room for improvement.

Envy

Well, I finally finished the Twilight Saga. And today, while I was at the mall, Borders, and Target, I saw Twilight books, posters, costume jewelry, and CDs everywhere. I admit it: I'm jealous of Stephenie Meyer.

Why am I jealous of Steaphenie Meyer? Because she's living my fantasy life. The one where I write romance and get rich.

Being a poet is cool. And so is being a grad student. But being Stephenie Meyer would be way better.

Maybe I should put aside this frustrating poetry ms and revisit my old novel ideas. Hmmm...

Retrospective

I've been in a weird place the last few days. Working the normal 8-5 shift is not sitting well with me and my internal clock. I know for sure now that I can never go back to the corporate world full time. I didn't know how bad it was for me back then because it was all I knew, but now, having been on a much more flexible schedule for the last year and a half, I know that I am not fully functional during the day. Going to bed at 10:00 wastes my most productive and creative part of the day (late nights). Also, leaving my house before the sun is up and getting home after sunset is really not good for my mood. I've been sad and weepy all week. Thank goodness today is the last day.

I'm anxious for New Years Eve (even though big party holidays are always a let down) because I haven't seen some of my friends since school ended. I'm also cautiously excited about 2007 and a little sad/nostalgic for 2006 already. It was a great year. I taught my first class, finally got to visit the west coast (although I didn't get to see the ocean), made some great new friends and reconnected with some old ones, got my first acceptance letter (although I have to wait til February to say I've been published), had an awesome, debaucherous weekend at Put-In-Bay, and spent the whole summer relaxing and writing instead of getting some crappy part-time job. Even though most of these adventures were expensive and have left me quite broke, the end result is that I am a happier, more well adjusted person now...and things are still looking up.

In 2007, I am going to send out crap-loads (that's the technical term) of poems, finish my thesis and get my degree, and make a decision about PhDs. Somewhere in there, I hope to have time (and money) to spend with my family and friends...maybe a road trip over the summer since I'm sure I can't afford to go to Europe like I'd hoped. I'm excited to see how things turn out.

Well, there's a Nora Roberts novel calling me. Yes, I read romance novels between semesters. Leave me alone.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

This has been a weird weekend. Instead of grading, working on my final projects, or putting together submissions, I read a romance novel. (I'm a slow reader, so this really did take most of the weekend up to this point.) Romance used to be all I read, until grad school came along and took away all my time for "pleasure reading." Not that I don't enjoy what I'm reading for school, but it's not the same as picking up 300 pages of fluff and getting lost in a cliche. Now, most of the time, I try to read more "literary" fiction and contemporary poetry in my free time, but I needed a break (actually, I couldn't sleep on Friday night, so I picked up an old book thinking it would lull me to sleep. I was up til 6a.m.). The sad thing is, I can't fully enjoy a romance novel any more because I can see how bad the writing is (not to mention the editing...I found a "to" where a "too" should have been). Sometimes I think I'll still write one of my own, though, get a contract with Harlequin and a pen-name, and make myself a few bucks.

On Friday, I admitted to my students that they were the first class I ever taught. They were surprised, which was pleasantly surprising for me. I'm anxious to start my syllabus for next semester--I was assigned two new text books so I want to figure out how I'm going to use them (they're so much better than the one I had this semester!), but I can't justify working on next semester when there's still so much to do for this one. And I just wasted two days on bodice-ripping nonsense.

There's only one week of classes left, then exam week, which is just grading and finishing up my practicum project. I can't believe how fast this semester went. I never even had time to think "God, is this ever going to end?"

A year from now, I'm going to graduate with my MFA. I don't have a thesis committee tied down yet (yikes! What if they don't agree on such short notice?) and I have virtually no publications. Time to get my ass in gear (as my mother would say).