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. : )
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.
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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.
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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).)
It's been a hard week. Instead of doing the more private "there's some trouble in my personal life" that makes everyone think some disaster is about to happen, I'll just tell you: I broke up with my boyfriend. No more details, though.
If you saw me running from the bookfair in tears last week, that's why. I promise, it wasn't over AWP. I'm totally bummed that I missed most of the fun on Friday and Saturday nights because I knew that sad me + free drinks would have been a very terrible combination. Like last night, at Honky Tonk Happy Hour when the guy who was trying to teach me to two step made me cry. I told him it wasn't him, but he was totally being mean about my inability to tell my left from my right.
So, I'm tired this week. Having trouble keeping up with my work and holding it all together and am in general feeling a lot of social anxiety that I haven't let myself feel in a long time. I was looking forward to a weekend of alone time--cleaning, napping, doing homework--but it turns out an old, old friend of mine is in town for the weekend, so I'm going to try to catch up with him for a minute down at Navy Pier (which I've never been to because everyone told me it was a touristy nightmare). After that, I'm turning off my phone and not leaving my apartment (except maybe to do a little laundry) until Monday morning.
Next weekend, I'm off to Ohio for a much needed weekend with family. After that, only three weeks until spring break. I think I'll make it through.
There are some good things about living in the city where AWP is. For one, I don't have to share a bathroom with anyone. Also, I get to drink my own coffee instead of paying $4 for starbucks (although I probably will later). The food situation is easier too, and there's no chance I'll run out of clean underwear or socks because I packed wrong.
On the down-side, I'm probably going to be dropping $20 on a cab every night because I don't do public transportation late at night by myself, and no one lives in my neighborhood. And today, I have a meeting with my advisor and a lecture to go to on campus, so I won't even really get to do the AWP thing today. I might swing by the bookfair for an hour before I go to my meeting, but I haven't decided yet. I will certainly be around tonight, though. Need to find some dinner plans.
Yesterday, I met up with one of my thesis committee members and a couple of former classmates for beer, then headed to Giordanos for pizza with a huge crowd of NEOMFAers. We spent the remainder of the evening at a little dive bar around the corner from the Hilton. Although I was hoping to do some people watching at the Hilton bar, I decided I was too tired and it would have to wait. Tonight, for sure! And yes, in case you're wondering, I skipped class. The first time I've ever skipped a UIC class, btw, so I think I earned it.
The camera never made it out of my purse yesterday. I'll try to do better today.
First things first: when I finish updating my blog, I'm going to Target. I can't risk wearing the same outfit I wore last year, so I have to buy all new clothes. Okay, I may have bought a few new items in the last 12 months. Maybe I only need to buy one new outfit. And definitely new shoes.
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I am not planning out my schedule, but you will definitely be able to find me at the Barn Owl Review table (#724, Hilton Chicago, Southwest Hall, lower level) on Friday (3-close) and Saturday (12-3). I will not be around on Thursday afternoon or Friday morning due to school obligations (don't even get me started on how mad I am that I have to continue participating in my regular life while there are spazzy poets and cranky fiction writers scurrying around the loop).
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Somehow I forgot to tell you: I have a poem forthcoming in Anti-!
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There are too many books I want to list them here. Hopefully I remember what they are when I'm wandering the bookfair.
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I am not going to be shy and starstruck this year. But still, it will be easier if you say "hi" first.
Also on my resolution list: 1) I will not spill anyone else's wine on them because I talk with my hands. 2) I will not be rude when introduced to other bloggers and will also not ask them to stop speaking other languages that I don't understand. 3) (and this should prevent #1 and #2) I will not have too much to drink at the Saturday night dance party (off site events are another story).
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Well, since I still have to teach and go to class tomorrow, I should probably quit AWP-dreaming and start getting some stuff done. Sigh.
I don't blog much anymore, do I? I wonder why. Maybe because facebook status updates are a quicker way to vent my frustrations. I dunno.
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There is waaaaay too much going on for AWP next week. It would help if I didn't have to go to class on Wed. night or teach on Friday morning. I can't even start thinking about which off-site events I'm going to. It makes my head spin.
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Did you hear Brandi's big news? Did you congratulate her?
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Super excited for tomorrow's Hull House Reading. UIC prof Christina Pugh, along with alumni Simone Muench and Kristy Odelius will be reading. Oh, and I'm introducing Simone. Closest thing I've done to a reading since being in Chicago. Also, I'm super excited that it's supposed to be above 40 tomorrow. Yay!
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I hear Pinsky is reading at the Art Institute tonight but I don't think I'm going to make it. I hurt my back the other day and am planning on spending as much time lying down today as possible.
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I'm making beef stroganoff for dinner today. I need some comfort food.
Winters is a thoroughly urban poet (she visited class last night and said that to her, nature was a tree growing out of a grate in the sidewalk!) which is something quite foreign to me, but is absolutley captivating. There is something in the way she describes New York city that makes it feel organic rather than man-made.
While some of the criticism I read praised the series "A Sonnet Map of Manhattan" above the long narrative poem "The Immigrant Woman," I felt quite the opposite. The sonnets were interesting, but "The Immigrant Woman" was captivating. Snapshots of New York's architecture, of grad student life, of a woman and her daughter living in a tenement, of a friendship that grows and withers--all these things are presented with the right amounts of drama, of detatchment, of detail. I could read this poem 1000 times and not grow tired of it, I think.
Smith, Adam. The Wealth of Nations. Bantam Classics, orignally published 1776.
I'm just starting to dig into this one, so forgive me if I'm short sighted. The back of the book says Smith "provided the first--and still the most eloquent--integrated description of the workings of a market economy." I'm only to the chapter where he describes the invention of money, so... (seriously--he spends 10 pages explaining how much a schilling weighs!)
What's strange here (for me) is the complete lack of political correctness. There are civilized folks and there are savages. People who don't have a specialized skill are likely to be "slothful and lazy"--and it goes on. What he's describing is the division of labor, and the advances that this has made possible. Of course, he seems to be pretty accurate (if you take away the bias) but I'm absolutely at a loss as to what we (a group of first year PhD students in English studies) are going to have to talk about. A classmate of mine who "gets" this theory stuff has directed me to davidharvey.org and Marx to contextualize. We'll see what happens.
I am a poet and PhD student at the University of Illinois at Chicago. My chapbook, Flood Year, is forthcoming from dancing girl press in September, 2009. My work has recently appeared in Hiram Poetry Review, Keep Going, Harpur Palate, Wicked Alice, Lily, Hobble Creek Review, and FRiGG.
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.
