A little more navel gazing...

Life has been full and oddly overwhelming lately. I'm not busy in the normal sense of the word, but I'm keeping myself busy and keeping my mind full (ha! mindful. I'm such a dork) with teaching ideas, poetry ideas, who-the-hell-am-I-and-what-the-hell-am-I-doing ideas. I don't have internet or cable at home, so I've been reading fiction in the quite hours when I'd normally zone out in front of a flickering screen. I read A Million Little Pieces* in one day. Then The House of Sand and Fog, and now I'm half-way through Pigs in Heaven. This is easily the most non-critical prose I've read since I took a class on creative non-fiction during my MFA.

(*Regardless of the Oprah debacle, it's questionable how much of Frey's "memoir" is memoir, especially in light of the tidbit I heard somewhere that Frey pitched it as a novel, but memoir was so hip at the time that his publisher convinced him otherwise... anyway, this is unsubstantiated rumor, but I'm still thinking the book is a novel.)

I'm excited and terrified to teach Intro to Poetry Writing this semester, and have been spending a tremendous amount of time compiling the course packet which essentially is a mini-anthology of the poems that helped me figure out how to be a poet. Of course, I'm still figuring that out, so the thing never feels done and I'm convinced that once I drop it off for copies, I'm going to realize that I left out the most important poems. I guess that's why there are xerox machines, right? I couldn't bring myself to use a textbook or stock anthology because this is the first time I get to teach what I love, and I wanted as much control over it as possible. Now I'm thinking: what the heck do I know about poetry? and just hoping that my excitement for it will cover up the gaps in what I don't know. I'm hoping to post a more substantial something on transitioning from comp instructor to teacher-of-what-I-love sometime soon, but not today.

As for my solipsism: I'm busy putting Humpty-Dumpty back together again after what I can only describe as the most difficult year of my life. Who would have thought that moving to a new city could completely decimate a person's self-ness? Okay, maybe decimate is the wrong word. Maybe scramble. Maybe perforate. Maybe shred.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day I got in the car filled with all my stuff and drove six hours to this big, crowded, scary place and started trying to make it fit. Today, I can say it sort-of, almost does. But the me who sorta-kinda fits here today isn't the me who showed up 364 days ago and that's what I'm trying to understand. I did some massively stupid, self-destructive things while ostensibly trying to survive, and I'd like to be able to explain, someday, to myself and the people those actions affected, why I acted the way I did. Right now, I can't even come close, except to say I was sad and lonely. But that doesn't feel like an answer.

More importantly--or at least of more immediate importance--are the questions I have about my work and my place at UIC. I'm still having trouble finding a poetic community here, probably because there are not a lot of poets in the program to begin with, and the ones I know are primarily working on dissertations and not taking workshops with me. I'm also struggling to see my exam committee, and the dissertation committee that follows it, coming together. I'm not sure what my lists are going to be and I'm not sure who I'd like to work with. Unfortunately, I do know who I don't want to work with and I don't like that feeling. I'm hoping that I can slap a quick coat of paint over the mistakes I made last year academically and be more productive and positive this year.

Aaaah....I could go on and on about this, but I have many more things to take care of in my tiny little window of internet time today.

Almost nearly

I move to my new place tomorrow. I'm almost nearly ready. Have to walk over to the Uhaul place a couple blocks away to get more boxes. I always run out, which usually isn't a big deal, bc I just start throwing stuff in trashbags and whatnot, but the movers won't appreciate that so I have to buy boxes. Sacrilegious.

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I've taken to sleeping in such a position that my shoulder almost always hurts. Will someone please tell my joints that I am still in my 20's and not ready for them to start mutinying? (I can't believe mutinying is actually a word. Weird.) Will someone please tell sleeping me to roll over and put her arm in a normal position?

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There was much revelry on Thursday and Friday nights, so by Saturday, the actual holiday (as you know) I was all out of my being-around-people fuel and sat around moping last night and being pissed at the neighbors for lighting off fireworks in a very unsafe manner. I know I was just in Ohio and am going back in a week, but I really wished I was at home for the holiday weekend--for mom's lung transplant anniversary and for sparklers with Philip the cutest five year old boy on the planet and for fireworks in the dark--on the upside, I did go to a yacht club party where they had white zinfandel for $1 and the band played country. They also played a little MJ for us, and man, I've never seen people get so excited about dancing/singing along to 'Billie Jean". I was on a sort-of-but-not-really date with the bass player of the band, which made me feel super cool, except for the part at the end of the night when I realized that the sort-of-but-not-really date would be our last. I guess it's better to figure that out right away instead of wondering for three days if he'll call. And why am I talking about this here? I don't blog about dating. Sigh.

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I feel like summer is about to end. I move tomorrow and will be settling in for the next few days and then on Sunday I head back to Ohio for my 3-week house sitting gig. Then it's August when I get back and I have my first pre-semester meeting on August 17. Poof. Summer's over. But oh, how I look forward to my three weeks in the woods. I'll be so happy to be there I won't even mind the mosquitos.

I'm in love

with my new apartment. Can't wait til I'm all moved in.

mashup

It's almost too hot to drink my coffee this morning. It's not actually that hot outside, but my apartment is retaining all of yesterday's heat. Normally, I would just pack up my things and go to the nearest air conditioned coffee shop with free wifi, but I'm on a budget, and that budget does not include $4 coffees (which are the only kind I like, anyway). Nor does it include three glasses of wine at the bar around the corner where I go sometimes to work on Sunday afternoons. So I'm going to suffer through the heat as long as I can. And try to drink my coffee anyway.

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Speaking of being on a budget, Kelli had an interesting post (via Tatyana) about money yesterday. She/they ask "what does financial freedom look like?" For me:

1) Being out of debt. My car is mine, my education is mine, and my money is mine.
2) Living in a home I love--this could be an apartment I rent or a place I own, just as long as I love it. And have the cash to properly furnish it. No more hand-me-down couches and dumpster diving coffee tables.
3) Being able to buy gifts, nice ones, for the people I love. No budget.
4) Vacations. To places I've never been before.

The debt is, of course, the big one. The one that looms over the next 20 years like a UFO waiting to suck me up and do bad things to me. Could I have taken fewer student loans over the last four years? Can I take fewer or be more responsible with the loans I take over the next four? I guess some people make their stipends work for them, or work 2nd jobs all through grad school, but I a) can't live on 14K when I have rent and a car payment and b) can barely keep my shit together with just my responsibilities to school--working a second job would probably lead to a complete breakdown.

I thought about selling my car & eating the loss since I don't really need a car right now. But then I started thinking long term. Right around the same time I'm going to be needing a car (presumably I'm not going to find a job in Chicago or NYC after graduation), I'm going to be having to pay back my student loans. My car will be 9 years old by then, but it will probably get me through at least the first few months post phd if I'm good to it now.

Anyway...I just thought Tatyana's question was interesting. I didn't plan on fretting about my loans.

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Rebecca Loudon is the nicest poet in blogland, I think. She did something very sweet and unexpected for me and I can't stop smiling when I think about it.

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I think, think, I have a plan for manuscript #2 (which I'm tentatively calling This is Not a Harvest [doh! I didn't realize: book 1 = weeds, book 2 = harvest. this might not work]) and manuscript #3 (which has no working title yet). I just have to decide which one to work on first (I have 5-10 drafts for each of them already). Joshua Corey is doing a visiting writer gig at UIC this fall, and I have to put together a portfolio and a little artist statement before I can work with him, so, decision time. The portfolio is due on July 15, so I have less than a month to figure it out.

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Still purging in preparation for next month's move. I've already gotten rid of 2 trash bags full of clothes, and I think there's at least one more to go. I went through my shelves but could only part with one small pile of books. And the papers...sheesh, I'm barely making a dent but I've worked on those files for hours and hours. That's probably what I'll spend most of today on.

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Geesh. This has got to be one of my most boring blog posts ever. If you read all the way to the end you should get a prize.

I am one sleepy puppy tonight. But I did go to work today, and I think I found an apartment, too. Plus, I had coffee with Laura, one of my very favorite Chicagoans, and talked to my mama on the phone for almost an hour. All in all, I'd call today a success.

Cross your fingers for me that I get the apartment. It's very cute, very close to the blue line, and very affordable. And then, after I get the apartment, cross your fingers that I get it together and stop moving every flippin' year. This is exhausting.

Went to the MCA yesterday and was wholly underwhelmed. I'd been there once before to see the Jenny Holzer exhibit (which was very cool) but didn't go upstairs to see any of the other exhibits. Well, the thing is, I didn't ever really need to go upstairs. They have like 3, 4 artists featured and I didn't really "get" any of them. The biggest exhibit upstairs was very engineering/physics heavy, and frankly, I have no interest in that sort of thing. I think they swap out the exhibits pretty regularly, so I guess I'll try again on another free Tuesday.

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I also went to look at an apartment yesterday and I am getting pretty sick of people lying about what neighborhood their properties are in. There was nothing Logan Square-ish about this place--the sidewalks were crumbling, the yards overgrown with weeds, and I'm pretty sure if I was there after dark there would be hookers and drug dealers on the corner. The agent called while I was on my way there and had to cancel, but I didn't get the message until I was standing outside of this building looking up and down the street in complete horror. If these are my options, I'll stay where I'm at.

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I didn't finish my ms revisions or get them to Jay yet. My new deadline is today at 12:00. I've got 4 hours to get this thing in shape.

One of the things I'm trying to do (I've almost decided which poems are staying and which are going) is to re-order the book without relying on chronology--primarily because I don't want a chunk of childhood poems right at the beginning. But they've been in a certain order for so long, I'm having a hard time imagining them as separate pieces again. What a strange process this is.

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Canceling netflix may have been a bad idea. Requesting movies from the Chicago Public Library is painfully slow. And now that all my TV shows are done for the summer, there are no good free episodes to watch online.

Maybe I'm just not a hard-core enough writer, but there are only so many hours a day that I can use my brain, and after that, I just want to stare at a flashing screen.

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.

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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.

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.

Down time in Des Moines

A year ago, I was preparing for my trip to Bisbee, which turned out to be one of the most productive weeks of my writing life. This year, I'm killing time in random cities, random hotels, and not preparing enough for my move to Chicago.

I did find out this week that I got the apartment (studio) in Buena Park, so I've been spending a lot of time on Ikea's website, googling "small room organizing," and reading decorating magazines. I think I'm going to buy this loft, which is big enough for a double bed, and make a little writing nook under it. I don't know what I'm going to do about a couch yet...maybe nothing. I know I am trying to move as little furniture as possible so I don't have to rent a truck and try to drive it through Chicago. Who knows, maybe I'll have enough cash left to buy one of Ikea's cute little loungers, too, and then I'll have somewhere for guests to crash. If everyone who says they're going to come visit really does, I'll have someone crashing every weekend until Christmas!

The BBQ thing is getting old. There's been a lot of drama and a lot of...I don't know what else to call it but bad karma. One of our crew broke his hand in two places, there were two awful storms last week and our whole tent blew over during one of them, we got a flat tire on our way to Iowa yesterday. It's just one thing after another. It's hard working outside: it's either too hot, too windy, or too rainy. We've had one or two perfect days, but usually I'm sweating my butt off or wearing a sweatshirt and chasing napkins around. And then there's the customers. I forgot how much I hate working with the public. A lot of people tell me that I'm a "people person," but I think I'm just good at pretending. The truth is, 90% of the people I've encountered this summer I wouldn't want to again. Is it so hard, really, to make up your mind while you're standing in line for 30 minutes so you don't have to stand at the counter going, "umm, well, do I want ribs or chicken?" And seriously, don't ever talk on your phone and make me wait until you're done. There are 40 hungry, cranky people behind you, and one tired, cranky person in front of you, and if you keep talking, we're all going to hurt you. One more thing and then I'm done ranting. If it's windy and you put your money/napkins/any other paper product on the counter, it's going to blow away. Duh. At this point, I think it's safe to say I will have no desire to ever attend another outdoor festival. At least not one where food is the main attraction.

The rest of the summer should go by pretty quickly, though. Maybe too quickly. I have 2 more weeks of work, then a week off in which I will pack and drive to Chicago to pick up my keys and drop off some stuff. Then I have to work 4 days, and then I'm off until Labor Day...but during that time, I'll be moving the rest of my stuff, driving home for my going away party, driving (or taking the train) back for orientation...you get the drift. The next six weeks are going to be rough. I guess I'll probably survive, though.

In the mean time, I haven't written any poems this summer, haven't made any submissions, and haven't started writing the article that I was asked to write back in May. So, hopefully I will be able to steal a few hours for writing before school starts. Hopefully. Speaking of...maybe blogging isn't the best use of my time. Huh.

Odd, I know...

but this post actually has something to do with poetry!

I have new work up at keep going, a super-sweet on-line mag. Many, many thanks to the editors.


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In other news, the apartment search might be over. I applied for a cute little studio in Buena Park today. That neighborhood was not on my list, but it looked safe, and the apartmentpeople swore it was just like Lakeview. I wish I could post pictures, but my new phone and I are having issues with email.

Let me tell you, all my fears about living in the city & relying on public transportation are completely valid!!! I think I've got twice as much gray hair as I did yesterday, and my nerves are shot. When I move, I'm going to learn the route from my front door to UIC and then I'm going to be a recluse for the rest of the time. Here's just one example of my ineptness: It took me 45 minutes to get from Union Station to the Wells/Washington el stop. They're four blocks apart. Note to self: don't ask coffee girl at Union Station for directions. She don't know any more than you do.

A post in which the author braves public transportation in the windy city

It was definitely too early for me to look for August apartments, but I wouldn't say my trip to Chicago was wasted. I found Jake's Pub, a great little bar in Lakeview (or was it East Lakeview?) with an Ohioan bartender, and I experimented a bit with CTA--took the Blue Line from Logan Square to UIC, and besides the faint smell of urine didn't have too bad of a time. I also rode a few different buses, but I don't recommend taking the Halsted bus from UIC to Broadway at 3pm...45 minutes with loud high school students is a little much. I knew I should have tried the el again, but I was tired of reading maps and knew Halsted was a straight shot.

Meanwhile, back home, the Colt was hosting Mary B's birthday party. Already, I'm missing the fun in Akron for Chicago...sigh. Luckily, Brandi was there to celebrate my visit, and we sent this blurry camera photo to Mary with birthday wishes. I never got my real camera out of my backpack...don't know why, though. I'm going to have to remember to take some good Chicagoland pics soon.

On the apartment front, no one is listing August openings yet, but I still went to look at a couple of studios in Logan Square. The first building we looked at was too small and kinda smelly, but the second building wasn't bad. There was exposed brick in one room and a tiny little back porch, plus a good sized walk-in closet. I spent most of this evening browsing Craigslist, and as much as this is against my natural, plan-as-far-ahead-as-possible tendencies, it looks like waiting until the last minute and finding something there is going to be my best bet. I might try to go look again in July, though. Oh, how I hate not knowing where I'm going to live!

Just six days until I start working for the summer, and I still haven't gotten anything accomplished. Tomorrow I'm going to be productive, I swear. Really, I do.

The girl who cries at the bar

Yep, that's me. Last night, I was hanging out with John (that's the new guy) and Eric (aka Little, aka Akron's poetry prodigy) and watching the Cavs (I hate sports, but it was an all right game as far as games go) and then, when Eric went home, John and I started talking about Chicago and I started weeping, right there at the bar. I cried. At the bar. For pete's sake! Get a grip...

So, I'm excited, I am...but there's a much bigger part of me that is scared and sad. I feel like I'm walking away from who I am by walking away from where I live. Is that silly? I'm afraid that nothing will feel right in Chicago and I'll fall apart. I hope I'm wrong, and I'm trying to stay positive, but last night it caught up with me and there I was, weeping.

To compound the sadness, I just turned in my office key at the UA police station. I am officially not an A-K-Rowdy any more. To think, 9 years ago when I took my first class on campus, I couldn't wait to move on--and here I am, two degrees later, wishing I could stay forever. Funny how things work out.

Tomorrow, I go to Chicago. Unfortunately, I have realized that I am apartment hunting a bit too early. The apartmentpeople won't have August listings until June. Everything else that I've found is available now/June 1, and obviously I'm not moving yet. Hopefully I get something accomplished while I'm there, besides drinking margaritas with Brandi.

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An update on the BBQ madness: I'll be in Jamestown, NY, June 4-7. Karen, you better come see me!

Treading Water

I'm always glad when a semester is over, but this time, there's no peaceful break following it up. I have 9 days off before I start my whirlwind summer job and the second that slows down, I'm packing up and moving to Chicago. 9 days would be a pretty nice vacation, except it's not. Going to look for apartments next week, and trying to get some poems (and maybe a manuscript and/or a chapbook) in the mail before I start work so that I don't forget about being a poet.

There's a super exciting Barn Owl Review event tonight (check out the details over at Mary's), but for the sake of my sanity, I'm punking out. Speaking of BOR--my dear interview volunteers, I haven't forgotten you and I will be getting in touch this coming week before I start work. Bernadette Geyer is on-deck. She's been so patient and hopefully her interview will be posted by the end of next week.

So, as I mentioned above, I'm going to look for apartments next week. I'm only going to be in Chicago for a day and a half, but hopefully that's enough time to find something that A) is in my price-range and B) is not in a scary neighborhood so that I can put down a deposit. I think my stress level will drop significantly if I know I have someplace safe to live come August. I'm also a little stressed about whether or not I'm going to be in a studio or a 1 bedroom. I guess it doesn't really matter at this point, but if I'm in a studio, nephew/roommate is going to have to tap into his frat house experience and build me a loft for my bed. I'm sure I'll have photos and updates for you next week.

And as promised, here is my schedule for the summer. I know I'll be near some of my blogging buddies, and would love to see a familiar face while I'm out on the road.

May 23-26: Cleveland
May 28-31: Erie, PA
June 12-14: Winston-Salem, NC
June 20-22: Kansas City, MO
June 26-29: Cedar Rapids, Iowa
July 3-6: Naperville, IL
July 10-13: Lake in the Hills, IL
July 17-20: Des Moines, Iowa
July 24-27: Columbus, OH
August 7-10: Toledo, OH
August 29-Sept. 1: Indianapolis

Well, I think that's all. Owls, have fun tonight! Sorry I'm lame.

Some Graduates, Some Gab

Here they are folks, just a few of the newest MFAs from the NEOMFA (and a couple of their friends). They all did an excellent job reading on Friday and Saturday, but I forgot my camera those days, so you'll have to live with pics from our final Wednesday night trip to Pints after class.










Oh, and congrats to Frank, who just got a poem picked up by Hobble Creek Review! Way to go, Frank.


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I'm obviously quite nostalgic these days, and the fact that I'm moving soon isn't helping any. I hear John Gallaher is waiting for me to leave Akron before he comes to visit. What's up with that, John? Rumor has it I'm going to miss Jason Bredle too. Don't you think, when you move away from home, that cool stuff should stop happening there? It's just not fair. At least this year I'll be on my new home turf for AWP. Maybe I'll hold a raffle for who gets to sleep on my couch.

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I've got a bazillion portfolios to grade today, but after that, I'm forcing myself (joyfully) to focus on poetry for a little while. Until the BBQ season starts, anyhow. I have a pile of books to read, a pile of drafts to revise, and a manuscript to get in the mail. This is going to be one crazy-busy summer, between traveling for work, packing, moving, reading Kant for my first PhD class, and trying to keep up with all my Ohio people before I go...Yikes! But I like a full plate.


Hopefully more thoughtful blogging soon...but lately, I haven't had the capacity for more than rambling.

Simplify? Not yet.

This is going to be one heck of a week. First, I'll be driving all around the NEO stalking H.L. Hix. Okay, not really. But he's speaking in Kent today and hanging out in Akron on Thursday, and I'm going to try to make it to as many events as possible. But before that, I need to read some of his poems.

Then...Thesis Defense on Friday! Holy Crap! I know I'm ready. But it's still scary.

After that, it's off to Winter Wheat. Me and some other NEOpoets (Jen, Jay, and Jessica S.) will be talking about workshops, poetry pedagogy (is there such a thing?), and genuine responses on Saturday at 2:30. I'm thinking about doing a little celebrating on Friday night, but since Mary's job market talk is first thing in the morning, maybe I'll save all my energy for Saturday night. I'm looking forward to meeting some people (Gary, Adam, who else?) that I somehow missed at AWP last year.

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Mom and Dad are moving to Florida. Well, nothing is set in stone just yet, but they've been talking to a realtor and their friends in Florida are scoping out houses for them. I guess I'm pretty unusual in that until I went to college, I lived in the same place my whole life. Mom and Dad bought the house I grew up in in 76 or 77 and have lived there ever since. But now they're moving. I would love to be in a position to buy the house from them, but I don't think my tiny little stipend will pay a mortgage. Besides, I'm supposed to be leaving, too.

That's what's really weird. Mom and Dad's house has always been the center of our family, and we (me and my 4 sisters) have tried to stay relatively close (except Carla, who has been bouncing around for the last 10 years with her then-boyfriend/now-husband while he learned how to be a periodontist). Now, the folks are planning to leave, Carla's in VA, and hopefully I'll be somewhere far, far away, too. Maybe I'll end up at Florida State and I'll be able to "go home" on the weekends. Or maybe I'll end up in Nebraska and no one will come visit me because they'd rather take their vacation time to go see Mom and Dad.

Regardless of where I end up, I think my family as I know it will soon fall apart. I don't know that we'll stay as close when we aren't geographically close. (Although Carla and I seem to get along better the further away she gets, so maybe I'm wrong.) Most of us hate talking on the phone. Between jobs, limited incomes, and other obligations, none of us have the luxury of traveling frequently. We do like email though.

I'm afraid we're going to turn into one of those families that gets together on Christmas and can't wait to get back home. I'm afraid that my sisters and I will become distant, unfamiliar. I suppose I have as much control in not letting that happen as anyone, but frankly, I'm bad at keeping in touch between visits at Mom and Dad's house now, so how good am I going to be at it while studying for the comps or writing a dissertation?

My mother's favorite bit of advice is to not worry about something so far off in the future that you can't do anything about it. So I suppose I'm wasting time and energy fretting about this now. What I should be worrying about is those PhD applications, b/c if I don't get those done, none of this really matters, now does it?

Blech!

I'm finally all out of my old apartment. What a pain. Apparently, over the long weekend, a breaker went out in my old building, and since it was a holiday, no one could fix it. That meant that my refrigerator had been out since Saturday. All that was left in it were some left-overs and freezer-burned meat that I was planning to throw out, but that was enough to make the whole kitchen smell like a meat locker. Almost bad enough to make me consider vegitarianism...almost.

In happier news, I got two books in the mail today. I love mail.

Last night, I played poker until 4 am with some of the guys from the English department. This is weird for several reasons, but mostly because I don't usually play poker (especially for real money) and because at 10:30 I was sitting at home, watching Law & Order, and ready to go to bed. I'm glad I went, but today is all screwed up because I slept til 11 again. Oh, and I actually won $10 (which means I was only down $10 for the night! Sweet!)

Unfortunately, I still haven't had time to go look for a job, and I still haven't finished moving and cleaning out my old apartment. (I've still got almost 2 weeks, but I want it crossed off my to do list.) Adding another "ugh" to the list, I have to go have some blood work done tomorrow and since I have crappy individual insurance, I'm pretty much paying for it myself. Plus, I'm hugely afraid of needles, especially the ones that suck stuff out of me. I have the strangest reaction to having my blood drawn--I bawl my eyes out. I don't pass out or anything like that, I just start crying uncontrolably. I really hope that I don't have that reaction tomorrow.

In happier news, I made London Broil on the grill yesterday. Did you notice I said "on the grill?" As in, I don't live in a tiny 3rd floor apartment anymore and I actually have a grill. Oh, and I've done 4 loads of laundry since I lived here, and you know what? I didn't have to use any quarters to do it. Despite my overall sense of frazzledness, I'm really glad I went through with this move.

Adjusting

So, I've been in the new place for 2 days, and so far, things are pretty good, but there's a lot of adjusting to do. The only real problem up to this point has been reminding my nephew to close the bathroom door when he pees. I think there's something in all men that makes them naturally exhibitionist.

I'm having trouble getting used to being on break, too. I guess that's not exactly right. I'm having trouble keeping myself motivated because I am on break. Last summer, I didn't work, so I could do what I wanted, when I wanted. I can feel myself trying to get into that frame of mind again, and I have to keep reminding myself that I need to get a job. That's what tomorrow is for. Today, I'm going to call the cable company and set up an appointment, pay some bills, and then go hang out with some friends to celebrate the end of the semester.

I'm hoping for a poetry filled summer. I've got a workshop two nights a week from June-August, and the Bisbee workshop at the end of July, so it shouldn't be difficult to get a lot of work done. Plus, there's thesis meetings on Mary's back porch. I'd really love to have my thesis pretty much complete when the fall semester begins, so I can just focus on tightening, revision, and ordering during my final semester (FINAL semester! OMG!) (Did I just type OMG? I did.)

Well, enough procrastinating. I'm about to sit on hold with Time Warner for 47 minutes.