It's supposed to be 93 today, but it'll "feel like" 98. Joy.
P.S. By the time I was six, I knew all the words to this song. It was on a McDonalds Golden Oldies tape of "Summertime Hits." Oh, how I loved that tape and wished I had been born in the 50's instead of the 80's. I would have looked good in a poodle skirt. Oh, and I was invited to a theme party this weekend where I would have gotten to wear a poodle skirt, but alas, I'll be in Ohio.
It's days like this that I miss my old apartment in Cuyahoga Falls the most. Spending one of the first warm Saturday mornings of the year on the porch with a cup of coffee and a book (I'll leave the cigarettes in the past, thank-you-very-much) would be truly ideal. Having Michael, my nephew, come out to distract me every now and then, but then going to work on his senior design project in the garage with ESPN on in the background would be really nice too. Alas, I'm here in Chicago where my porch is not big enough for a table, and besides, there's this crew working on the building (and has been every nice day since I moved in) that make all kinds of noise and debris, thus making it impossible to spend any time on my tiny balcony.
This is why I have plans to go to my friend Shelly's house a little later on--Shelly has a deck. Also, Shelly thinks that if we work on our papers in the same place at the same time, I'll be able to help her focus. But Shelly lives in Bronzville, which will take me an hour on the el to get to, and it is supposed to rain. I might just bail on Shelly. If I had a car, I'd so be there. But the commute...
Maybe to Bar on Buena. They probably will open the windows (which are the size of garage doors) today. That would be almost like sitting outside.
Or maybe I'll just stay here, where all my books and papers are, where I have a freezer full of food I've already paid for, where I have instant coffee and my favorite mug. The sliding glass door is already open, the birds are chirping, I'm drinking coffee...I guess there's nothing wrong with where I am.
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Today I'll be focusing on my paper for Proseminar--the Political Economy course. The one that really pissed me off at the beginning of the semester. I mean, I'm getting a PhD in English, writing a creative dissertation, and I'm forced to study the Political Economy? What the...? But then I started getting into some of it. Rather, I started getting riled up about the way theorists are describing working class people, and I found my way into the class. So now, I'm trying--emphasis on trying--to write a paper that deals with working class identification / values / discourse as they relate to (or contradict) working class theory. I don't really know if I have the theory chops for this project, but I'm going to give it a shot. And the strange thing is, I'm way, WAY more excited about writing this paper than I am about writing the paper for my contemporary poetry course. So hopefully today is a good, productive, intellectually satisfying day. Maybe I'll learn something.
I'm in grading hell today. Not because I promised to give my students back their papers tomorrow and waited until today to start, but because it is 64 degrees outside and I'm stuck in here.
I haven't posted much about teaching this semester, which I'm just now realizing. It's a whole different animal here at UIC, but now's not the time. I still have 12 more papers to grade and my average time is way too high. (When I was an adjunct, I had it down to 6 min per. Today I'm running around 15 min.)
Looking forward to the weekend even though I will be glued to another stack of papers for most of it. Maybe I'll have time to walk to the lake or something city girls are supposed to do on lovely almost-spring weekends.
Got some new glasses today. Wasn't expecting to get them so quickly, so I'm pretty psyched. No self portraits for now because I'm not wearing any makeup, but let me tell you, these glasses are definitely dorky-chic. Love it.
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It was warm and cloudy when I left today, thunderstorming when I came home. I don't really know what to think of a thunderstorm in February, especially one that literally rattles the glass in my sliding door.
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Ask and ye shall receive, right? On Tuesday, I wrote about wishing that I would a) find someone here at UIC to work with who got what I'm trying to do and b) find a paper topic I'm excited about for this semester. Well, yesterday I got both. Granted, the prof is not a poetry person, so it's not exactly what I was looking for, but he's definitely interested in my working class/rust belt ideas and thinks the paper that I'll be starting for his class will probably turn into an exam list. We had a really productive conversation and I'm feeling so much better about school, insecurities and all.
Thanks to everyone who commented on my last post--it means alot to have your support. One thing I do want to say is that I'm very aware that one never truly reads everything one should, but rational thoughts like that tend to slip my mind when I'm in the middle of a rant. As for asking questions: I'll work on that. : )
Start with two pairs of socks, add leggings or tights (the thicker, the better), and jeans. This is just the basics. Add long sleeved tee-shirts, sweaters, wool coat, scarf, hat, & gloves. Remember that your bottom layer should be presentable so that when you start sweating under your wool coat and sweater, you can strip down. Make sure your hair is all the way dry. Put tissues (or toilet paper when you run out) in all your pockets, so your scarf doesn't have to double as a hanky--your nose will run, even if you're healthy as a horse--and wear waterproof mascara. If not, your tears will freeze to your eyelashes, and when you get on the train they will thaw into a gloppy mess all over your face.
When staying home, I recommend pjs + bathrobe or hooded sweatshirts. Oh, and don't try to blowdry your hair while the space heater is plugged in. You might blow something up.
P.S. The temp. has gone up nearly 30 degrees from when I went to bed last night, and it's still only 16!
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.
Why can't I make a decent pot of coffee? Seriously, someone, help me out!
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I had way too good of a weekend for it to be Monday already. Every day should be: sleep until 11, go out to lunch, take a nap, go out to dinner, go dancing until 4 am. Forget writing syllabi and reading Mao.
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Fellow bloggers: does your spouse/partner/boyfriend/girlfriend read your blog? BF and I had a little argument about this the other day. I think he should read it, he thinks not...but he was annoyed when Toby knew something from my blog that I'd never talked to BF about. I'm just curious how other couples handle it.
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I think I figured out poetry project #2. There's going to be mafia/ Italian Catholic immigrant themes running through it, but the organizing narrative will be about a woman observing her aging mother after her father leaves (or dies, haven't decided how morbid I want to be yet). With the exception of some details from the 1940's, this project will not be (auto)biographical. I'm feeling really good about this--I've been kicking around this idea for years, but I didn't want to write a book that had to be totally research based. The mother-daughter angle lets me get started even though I don't have time to do the library work right now.
Alas, I still need to finish ms #1. I'm clearly missing fall deadlines again, but maybe I can make the winter ones.
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Indian summer this week. It was really warm out over the weekend and is supposed to be in the 70s today and tomorrow. And I just put away all my summer clothes.
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I thought I was going to be part of history and become a Chicagoan all at once when Obama comes to Grant Park on Tuesday, but apparently, the tickets sold out in less than an hour. I guess I'm going to an election party, but I think it might be safer to hide in my apartment and avoid the CTA that day. Oh well.
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Carol asked me to talk about revision. She's finishing her thesis. I'm going to try to post something soon. Something poetic (gasp)!
The waiting continues. There was nothing exciting in my mailbox at all. There's just one unknown left and it's the one I want the most. For Pete's sake...what's taking so long?
We're supposed to get about a foot of snow this weekend. Good thing I'm not planning to go anywhere. Just 23 hours until I can check the mailbox again.
Okay, this is going to be incredibly cheesy. But I'm going to say it.
Yesterday, I was sitting in my office waiting for students to not show up (does anyone ever come to office hours besides grad students?) and all I could think about was how PhD decisions are supposed to come my way this week. And how on Wednesdays, I don't usually get home until after 10 p.m. A letter from Nebraska or OU or FSU could have been sitting there in the mailbox, lonely and cold, for 8 or 9 hours. So I decided to go home between office hours and workshop--something I never do.
I rushed home (standing up Rick, who was planning to come by to talk thesis formatting) and checked the mail...but there was only a letter from the cable company. Nothing special. Nothing worth driving home for.
Needless to say, I was annoyed. Annoyed that I wasted the time and gas driving home when I didn't need to. Annoyed that I had to wait at least another 24 hours before I knew anything. Just annoyed. I've been having some cabin fever/mental exhaustion crankiness lately and the annoyance happens easily.
At any rate, I decided to make the best of it and had pancakes for lunch before heading back to school. I was driving down rt 8 kind of half-there when the traffic slowed down for no obvious reason and the sun came out (it had been cloudy all day). It was around 4:30, so it was pretty low, and I was almost stopped next to the only tree-lined portion of rt 8 between my house and school, and the trees, covered in ice, back-lit with brilliant sunlight, looked amazing. Like something out of a science fiction movie. Like something completely unnatural--except that it was completely natural. I rolled past these trees at 10 mph, and the second I was past them, the traffic sped up, the clouds came back, and it was just another gray, ugly winter afternoon. But for a second, everything slowed down. For a second, I forgot how annoyed and frustrated I was and just thought about something beautiful.
A God Moment.
It's been a long time since I've been to church, since I've considered myself a religious person, but I've never lost my faith in a higher power. Sometimes I don't call it God, but fate or the universe, or something new-agey like that, but it's still the same thing I prayed to when I was sitting in a church or at a youth group retreat. And even though sometimes I forget about it, there are moments when I'm too lost in the day-to-day and whatever It is slows me down, reminds me that there's something bigger.
I was in a great mood last night, and maybe that is why.
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My mom saw my post on the six word memoir and she sent me one of her own:
New lung.
New life.
New world.
I like hers better than mine.
Praying for 50 degrees and sunshine sometime soon. Right now, 27 and sunshine. Half's not so bad, right?
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I'm going to tag myself. The six word memoir:
What would you say if you had to summarize your life in only six words? Bookbabie got the idea from a book written by Larry Smith and Rachel Fershleiser, Not Quite What I was Expecting: Six Word Memoirs by Famous and Obscure. It is a compilation based on the story that Hemingway once bet ten dollars that he could sum up his life in six words. His words were—For Sale: baby shoes, never worn.
Here are the rules:
1. Write your own six word memoir
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere
4. Tag five more blogs with links
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!
Here's mine: She always wants to go back.
I'm not playing tag. Do it if you want.
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I've started my "real" memoir. That's why I posted the picture of me and my mom. I'm writing about how my mother's illness(es) impacted me as I grew up, and how her health has effected me as an adult.
Since I started writing, I wanted to write about myself. I thought you had to be famous or at least extra special to write a memoir, but I guess that's not the case. We'll see if I stick with it. Poetry has taught me the joy of being able to finish a draft in 45 minutes. I'm not sure I have the tenacity to write a draft that will take months to complete.
I woke up today to find out that UA is closed. Sweet! Only problem is I had 8 hours of conferences scheduled and I am not about to reschedule them. I guess I'll make them optional.
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Saturday is the first official Barn Owl Review reading and release party. Here are the details:
Please join editors, contributors, and fans of Barn Owl Review Saturday, March 1st, for our official Cleveland release party and reading. BOR Editors-in-Chief Mary Biddinger and Jay Robinson will read with Emily Anderson (of Warbler fame), Michelle Krivanek, and Kate Sopko. Bela Dubby's is a fabulous venue, with art, coffee, and beers galore.
Saturday, March 1st
Bela Dubby's
13321 Madison Ave.
Lakewood, OH 44107
Reading starts at 9:30 pm, but swing by earlier for beer and camaraderie.
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Speaking of BOR, my definition of "soon" and others' definition may be slightly different, but my goal is to get in touch with my interview volunteers today.
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I'm imagining life in Chicago. I'm sure I'll get mugged in the first week. Country Bumpkin, what can I say? Still waiting for 3 more, though.
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There was no PhD news in the mailbox yesterday, but I did get my first issue of Prairie Schooner and Paul Guest's Notes for My Body Double. I totally forgot I ordered them, so it was a nice surprise. Also in the mail yesterday: a reimbursement check from the insurance company for when I had my car towed. So, getting the mail may not have been exciting, but it was good.
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Hey, check that out: a post with no whining. Go, me!
Yes, he's cute, but more importantly, Wayne Miller writes good poems. Check out my review of Only the Senses Sleep on the Barn Owl Review Blog. Oh, and it just so happens that this review is weather-appropriate, see: There is a chill in almost every poem, a billowing wind that makes readers want to grab the nearest sweater.
Speaking of BOR, did you get your copy yet?
I miss the summer. I suppose the easier, more logical solution would be to quit smoking, but I'm not really eager to try that again. You remember what happened last time.
It is so cold in Ohio today that I don't even want to go see if there is any poetry news in the mailbox.
At the same time that I'm struggling with transition, I'm aching for change. For something new & different. To stir the pot.
I've never been to NYC before, so maybe that will be enough to get things moving, but being that I am a country bumpkin, I'm not sure the big city will inspire me like the Chiricahuas did. I suppose it's a wholly different thing. The similarities: both big, immense, and overwhelming. Good for perspective.
The sky today is like old blankets. Dull and fuzzy. But not warm.
Lately, I've been obsessing over my dream-office. Watching a lot of home renovation shows will do that to you. I must have built-in floor to ceiling bookshelves and a giant window seat before my life will be complete. In the meantime, I will continue buying cheap-o particle board bookshelves at the end of every semester to keep up with my ever growing collection.
I'd like a nice kitchen, too, but really, that is so much less important.
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The weather here is friggin' awesome today and was awesomer yesterday. I know awesomer isn't a word, but I don't care.
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OSU lost. Normally, I wouldn't know this, but I was talked into watching the game with friends.
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I think the delay is almost over. I think I will write something today.
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So, no one is going to help me decide about the ms conundrum, huh?
and so is my personal statement.
The view from my back porch today:
And the sun setting behind the tree that my landlord is probably going to cut down soon. : (
Uh-oh. Last Friday, I was all caught up, so I kind of took the weekend off. (You may have noticed that from my previous posts.) So far this week, I have not done a very good job of staying caught up or building back my momentum. Yesterday, I did two loads of laundry and graded about five papers, but didn't get to cross much else off my to do list. I did get to see the folks, though, and that was a very good thing.
Today will be busy. I still have to write a poem with a foreign language, a musical instrument, and some sort of romance. I also have to finalize my lesson plan (which includes reading Philip Levine's "What Work Is" and discussing how he uses description to analyze the situation ...exactly what I'm trying to teach my students to do in their second essay). Once those things are done, well, it's hard to say what to pick up next. Next week's homework or the GRE study guide? Work on my thesis or grade papers? Research PhD programs or BOR submissions? I have very little planned for the rest of the week, so hopefully there will be time for all of it. But for some reason, I don't think there will be.
Yesterday it was almost 90 degrees, but today feels like fall. I keep saying, "this may be the last warm day of the year," and then it gets warmer. I guess that's good. If summer keeps holding on, does that mean winter will be shorter? Ha! I've lived in Ohio long enough to know that winter is always 6 months long! If it doesn't start until January, it'll still be cold in June. (Allright, there may be a slight hyperbole in that last sentence, but it feels like six months!)
Hey, did you hear? There's a new list of contributors up at the Barn Owl Review blog.
