happy

My sister is here, last night I did my second reading since Flood Year came out and then went to Little Joe's to belatedly celebrate my birthday, today we're going to wander around the city like tourists and the weather is perfect.

Compliments from lots of folks, including the department chair and AW, after the reading. Sold a couple of copies. Felt like a rock star.

Karen wrote a little review of Flood Year that's just amazing...I kind of can't believe she's talking about my poems. Thanks so much, Karen!

Age ain't nothin' but a number

I'm caught between generations.

Depending on who you talk to/what you read, Generation X ends with the people born in 1977 or 1980. I was born in 1980, so I'm swinging in on the tail end (according to some). I'm no sociologist, so I won't get into the generally accepted definitions. Let's just say I'm on the cusp of something.

I'm the youngest of five girls. My oldest sister was born in 1961. So, once again, depending on who you talk to/what you read, she's on the tail end of the Baby Boomers or the beginning of Gen X.

My parents were born before WWII.

You may be wondering where I'm going with this. So am I.

There's something about the way I was raised and the dynamics of my family that has always made me feel like an outsider among people my own age. For most of my teenage years I was Baby Sara or Little Sara...everyone treated me like a little sister. I hung out with people who smoked pot and drank but no one ever offered it to me or did it in front of me because everyone was protecting me. I don't know why. (I'm not complaining. I'm glad I graduated from High School with all my brain cells in tact. I just don't know who decided to shelter me or why everyone followed along.)

I'm a loner because I was the only kid at home after everyone else started school. Then I was the only one at home when everyone else moved out or went to college.

I am extremely resentful when girl friends say I'm like their little sister. I have 4 sisters already, I don't need anymore. I want friends. I want everyone to fit into certain roles. Sisters are different than friends and my sisters are always going to be more important than my friends. I used to hang out with a woman who was about 4 years older than me and had two little girls. Within 6 months of meeting me, her kids were calling me Aunt Sara. That weirded me out.

Whoa, I'm getting way off track. I started this post because of yesterday.

Yesterday was Jana's beginning of the year MFA party. The crowd was probably split 50/50 between faculty and students. About 2/3rds of the way into the evening, I realized that most of the students had left or were about to leave and I was still talking to the profs. I gave Dawson a hug and told him I was sorry I didn't get to talk to him more. He said, "don't worry about it, you were busy hob-nobbing." Well, it may have seemed that way, but really, I was just hanging out. Cuz the profs are like my sisters; they may be significantly older than me but they're the kind of people I'm used to hanging out with.

When am I going to learn how to hang out with the cool kids?

This is the most pointless blog (ENTRY) in the world. I may delete it (this entry!) soon.

Who's gonna drive you home?

Well, I'm back from the commonwealth. Of Virginia, that is. This is me following the Walmart trucker into Ohio:

In my mind, I was taking a picture of the "Welcome to Ohio" sign, but I was too far away. This leads nicely into my next section...

What I learned on my trip:

• Trying to take photographs while driving at speeds that may or may not be above the posted limit is a practice in stupidity and recklessness.
• UVA is in Charlottesville, not Richmond (I'm not sure why I thought it was in Richmond, but that doesn't really matter, now, does it?)
• It is not only hotter in Virginia than in Arizona, but the bugs are scarier too.
• I'm sure I learned something else, but right now, I don't know what.

What I brought home:

• Driver's tan. I tried to take a picture, but it is impossible to photograph both of your own arms without smooshing your boobs together and that picture doesn't belong here.
• Fun binder clips and a mini stapler

What was waiting for me in the mailbox: (not pictured - Kim Addonizio's what is this thing called love)

What I'll miss the most:

puppy love

big sister

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Amy wrote about her sister visit this week too. Carla sometimes doesn't remember things that I do, but for her birthday, I gave her The Little Engine that Could and season one of The Muppet Show and she remembered those.

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Confession: I *heart* listening to Celine Dion while I drive. That's embarrasing, isn't it?