Journal: Sep 08, 2010
Past Entries: June 2004
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
I'm a sad, sad little person. Tipping the scales 2 pounds over (Gasp) what I weighed before I got pregnant with Carrie, I feel out-of-control with my increasing weight. I've gained about five pounds over the past year and get scared to think I might gain another five pounds this coming year. And so on. I wonder: Am I sick? Should I see a doctor? Is this an age thing now that I am all of 37? (OMG! I'm what? I feel 27.)
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The poetry I'm reading right now is Carolyn Forché's The Blue Hour : Poems. I'm trying hard to handle the deep respect I have for Carolyn Forché as a person (I studied with her at GMU) -- she is kind, interesting, deeply feeling, brave, passionate, caring, and many more wonderful things -- with the dislike I feel for her book so far (I haven't finished it yet).
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Monday, June 28, 2004
Dispite its punny title, Family Orchard is a pretty good read. I was two thirds of the way through and mis-placed it -- and spent a long time tearing up the house to find it again. That's how good the first two thirds of it is. I should have left the book lost, the author ends by dismantling the layers of her and her father's narratives with more and more crap.
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Thursday, June 24, 2004
I am so hooked on this show, Firefly. I'm four episodes into the series now. Damn you, friend-who-told-me-about-it (Carter Bell). It's nice sci-fi, no wait -- it's unabashed spaghetti western complete with scenary and typical characters, no wait -- it's Robin Hood, no wait -- it's sex in space with strong lesbian overtones, no wait -- ah, what the hell, good humor, cute people, shaky story lines, who could ask for anything more?
Tuesday, June 22, 2004
I'm on vacation until next Monday. This vacation was scheduled so I could attend two of Carrie's field trips. Alas (or hooray), they're no longer asking/allowing parents to go. My backup plan is to go swimming, spend more time with the kids, and see a bunch of movies. Today it will be Harry Potter. Friday, I will forgo Michael Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11 (I think I want that on DVD) and go to Shrek II with Carrie.
I have now seen two episodes of Firefly (received the DVD of the whole series for my most recent birthday -- thanks, mom!) and am hooked. I saw one last night ending around 11:00 pm. Then, what the hell, I can sleep when I'm dead, I watched another episode. I'll watch a couple more tonight.
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Monday, June 21, 2004
Saturday, June 19, 2004
Friday, June 18, 2004
Thursday, June 17, 2004
This reminds me of A Small Thing. I used some of the same language in it.
My super-smart daughter, whose vocabulary has outstripped her peers' vocabularies since she was born (practically), is on her first kiddie school field trip today. Several issues swirl (ahem, sure they swirl) around this event. Here are the facts and issues:
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Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Kerry was in town and apparently he is as charismatic as a tree stump. Bush is just that incompetent that Kerry could win. I think Kerry would make a good president, though. I'm looking for competence and -- agree with Bush or not regarding government, taxes, the economy, and Iraq -- you have to admit GW Bush has screwed up nearly everything he's touched.
This all begs the question, which president or presidential candidate would you sleep with. My co-worker here likes Howard Dean, but eh, he's a little too crazy for me. I like good writers and articulate men, so Clinton would be a possibility, except for that little matter and all those past flings -- very awkward! Kennedy was too jowlly for my taste and again all those other bodies lying around. I'd probably have to go back to Washington or Jefferson. Jefferson had a pony tail and I like a little bit of the hippy -- cf my long-haired-obie-dobie-hippy-freak-looking husband. (He gets called "long-haired" even when he's clean cut.)
Updated to add relevant link: http://www.johnkerryisadouchebagbutimvotingforhimanyway.com/
→ Pendragon - Merchant of Death, by D. J. Machale: This slow-moving time-warp fantasy for 14-year-olds is pretty good, but spends a lot (I mean a lot) describing how the protagnist doesn't feel up to the tasks at hand.
→ If I'd Killed Him When I Met Him, by Sharyn McCrumb: Another good mystery by McCrumb. This is one of the Elizabeth MacPherson series. It's has an arsenic eater in it and that's why I've been thinking about them this week.
→ Baudolino, by Umberto Eco: Maybe it's the translation, which is great, but there's a crispness to language that's missing in most of the Eco books. And yet, there are many, many truly majestic or moving or beautiful or evocative moments in this one, just like the others (especially one of my favorites The Island of the Day Before which went on about stuff a little bit too long -- two pages on instatiations of dove symbolism, come on!).
→ Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, by Phillip K. Dick: This book explores what it means to be human or nearly human. A very good read. But I kept wondering, how come the wives and husbands seem completely content to have the wives (sans children) stay at home all the time? But to dwell on that component of the book diminishes it, which I don't want to do.
→ Walking to Martha's Vineyard, by Franz Wright: This Pulitzer Prize winning book of poetry had lots of white space. Wright tends to use lists of nouns with modifiers to craft his poems. Took me 14 poems to even see how it could win anything -- not even considering the Pulitzer -- but then there was that one that really got to me and I settled into his world view and enjoyed the rest. Still, a Pulitzer?
→ The Known World, by Edward Jones: This Pulitzer Prize winning novel (I always go for the Pulitzer novels) is everything I thought it would be (that's good) and much more. It is a story about a black man who owned slaves.
→ Life of Pi, by Yann Martel: A 16 year old boy is shipwrecked with a tiger. It's supposed to make you believe in God. A great read, but fiction is not enough to convince me of God. "So this story has a happy ending," writes Martel at one point. Yes and no, yes and no. Again a great read.
So now you know: I read just about anything that James brings home, fiction or poetry. I tend to like it all too. I'm hopeless.
Next up, Carolyn Forche's Blue Dress and Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake.
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Third time's a charm?
Version 1: Arsenic Eater
Version 2: Arsenic Eaters
Version 3: Lilies & Arsenic EatersSomething happened last night the illustrate one of the many ways Carrie and Andy differ. It was a half hour till bed time and I gave them a snack, about ten Fritos and milk -- the milk is their standard issue, pre-bedtime ritual. They both ran out of Fritos quickly and asked for more. Carrie: "May I please have some more chips?" Andy: "Cheeps!" Mom: "No."
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What's new? Well, they caught our sniper. Oh and they found a would-be blower-upper-of-malls around here. Perhaps he was going after Les Wexner (ah, going to mention that he's Jewish here, make of it what you will) of the Limited's mall, Easton. Skepticism abounds. Folks interviewed on the news seemed to think it could be, a, some crazy who was not to be a concern for that would let "them" win, b, not as worrisome as the economy, or c, a Bush plot to garner more votes in this, one of a most highly prized "swing" state. (Wow, we're swingers? Where's the party? ;-)
Monday, June 14, 2004
Ok, it sucks right now. Homelessness is a very tough issue to handle in a poem. Don't know if there's enough of what I like to work with here.
Updated
Version 1: Arsenic Eater
Version 2: Arsenic EatersDon't know if 2 is any better, yet. I have to go through it more carefully.
The weekend was so nice everything is pissin' me off this morning. Last night I was just thinking about a particular law professor where I work and what an irratating know-it-all she is (she reads your notes upside down and then gloats about them, offering suggestions). And there she was at the coffee machine preventing me from getting hot water for my tea before my Monday "Projects Statuses Meeting". She offered that, although there is no sign -- manufacturer or homemade -- posted, taking hot water during brewing will make a bad pot of coffee. I stood there listening and knew the brew-time was over and it was just dripping then. Whatever, I left.
Friday, June 11, 2004
Teacher of the Year: James just won it at the OU-L commencement. He's probably going to be insufferable for a while -- until he makes some kind of mistake like accidentally debiting a $1000 for a mod chair from our checking account or destroying part of the electrical system in our house which, uh, I guess I'm not hoping for anything like that to happen again. He is a great teacher -- I can admit it here as he never reads this. (Just think at his insufferable-ness if he knew how great I think he is.)
Today's poem has three names in it. Li-Young Lee is a nationally-known poet. (Great stuff, go read his work.) Kwan Chang is my former boyfriend from high school. Mary Kim is a locally-known poet and a friend.
I figure with two poems which could be geared toward any audience already written this week, I could do this for myself to read at some local poetry event when the crowd is stocked with folks who know Mary.
Thursday, June 10, 2004
I read last night (Writers' Block open mic as usual) two items from this week (Oh Jenny and 100 Poems Titled "James"). This first was barely completed. I was very late. (Andy just isn't going to sleep fast enough these days.) I missed at least half. But I saw most of the good ones -- except Vernell, I missed Vernell, and she's good. I missed at least one (judging from the audience) whom I'm sort of glad to have missed. I'm not kind and supportive about open mic-ers that aren't very good, but think they are, or who have talent but who are trapped in some kind of schtick or pretense. The Writers' Block people are all about support for any open mic-er -- And that's partly why I'm with them so often. (And yet, I'm one of the good ones.) As Imani Coppola (on her Chupacabra CD) put it, "One of these days I'm gonna be happy. One of these days I'm gonna piss all over myself laughing. One of these days I'm gonna get the punch line. Until that day, I'm gonna bitch and moan and groan."
Wednesday, June 9, 2004
Andy has been trying to move backwards since he could move. His favorite activities have included: pushing himself backwards on his stomach across hard floors and sand, crawling carefully into things butt first, walking backwards, and attempting unrestricted access to the stairs for the purpose of climbing them backwards. He gets a gleeful, mischievous look on his face when he moves to the front of a room or moves to face a wall: this is how you know he's going to start a backwards trek. What a goober. (I can't wait till we can roller blade and ice skate backwards together. :-)
Imagine my surprise when I got his semi-annual report from school (ahem, toddler school) with an N (as in never) for "walks backwards." Gasp. N? I told his teacher so she might encourage him more, but ... N? N!
Tuesday, June 8, 2004
Monday, June 7, 2004
Here's a newly released site in beta testing:
I'll just add what lots are thinking/saying*: we need this for the US congress.
That is, what lots are saying based on blogs cataloged on blogdex.net.
Friday, June 4, 2004
For those looking for my Knee Jerk Quiz (the link for which is now cycled off the main journal page), here it is:
While being put to bed, Andy bit me. I "quickly" placed him in the crib and yanked up on the gate which shattered one of the gate latches. Consequently, Andy is now a big boy who sleeps on a mattress on the floor (our answer to toddler beds).
I didn't think the crib so fragile, but then again I was really frustrated. It always seems like the kids fuss more when James' Dad is around (which he is for a few days). Perhaps I am just more tuned in to it.
On the plus side, our house is rejuvenated with all those paintings James' Dad borrowed for his show. Joe (that's his name, well, that's his nick name, his name is Ben Summerford) returned five of his paintings with one framed that we'd had unframed for a long time and added one to our collection. Andy, who is very bright, pointed out all the new (to him) pictures, two of which now hang in his room.
Thursday, June 3, 2004
Wednesday, June 2, 2004
Where are the Beatles, David Bowie, Eurythmics, the Cure, and Tears for Fears (high school)? Where are the Clash, the Pogues, the Pixies, Souixie and the Banshees, Kate Bush, and Tom Waits (college)? I have mellowed and regressed and progressed. My car now (in my mid-ish 30s) holds:
Tom Waits - Mule Variations
PJ Harvey - To Bring You My Love (Amazing double-entendre reading of the New Testament birth narrative)
Norah Jones - Come Away with Me
Imani Coppola - Chupacabra
Baba - Mind Music (White Rapper)
Burl Ives (Can't recall the title of this cd, but I've memorized most of the songs including Streets of Laredo for me, the Turtle Song and the Lollypop Tree for my kids)
Beatles - Let It Be Naked (Some songs are better and some aren't improved, but this is great if you're as big a fan as I was.)
Annie Lennox (of the Eurythmics) - Bare (She's got God, too much for me, really, I liked Medusa much, much more than this)I'd have said these don't seem to relate, but now I see my criteria are (in this order) good lyrics, interesting voice, strong rhythm or beat.
Ending note: go see this cool flash of Come Together. Reminds me why I love the Beatles.
I got a rejection yesterday from a magazine. You'd think they would take the time to have a well-written rejection notice. That way, I could at least respect the folks who are rejecting me. Granted, some of what I didn't like was due to my personal tastes and the grammar was ok, even if they had one comma too many connecting two unrelated clauses which should have comprised two sentences. Here's the note from the small press journal I shouldn't name, but will, Fence. I added comments in brackets.
Dear Friend, {I'm not their friend. This sets the tone as either inaccurate, condescending, or overly chummy. None of these attitudes are welcome by me in a rejection note.}
Thank you for being interested in our journal {so far, so good}. We are not going to take any of these poems {finally, getting down to business}, but we hope that this will not stop you from thinking kindly of Fence. {No wait, they're not being business-like, they're being condescending or chummy.} Please note our new address {I had sent it to their new address}, {extra comma} and please {second please in one sentence, yuck} note that we are only open for submissions from September through May {I had sent my submission in May}. {The last sentence should have been split into two sentences and given a nod to those who used the correct address and time frame.}
Also, they sent back only one of the five poems I sent to them. I'm assuming they have rejected all five, but it seems a little sloppy. Did they lose them? Is there a possibility that they'd use one of the ones they didn't send? They sent back the one, to my mind, that was the best of the lot. Are they confirming that?
I know this was standard note. I know I'm making too much out of it. But they could have put a little thought into it. I've read some beautifully phrased rejection notes, so I know it's possible to make them short, accurate, respectful, and unencouraging. I hope they still think kindly of me.
Tuesday, June 1, 2004
James has been looking and looking for Andy to make his room meet up to the "cool" standards of Carrie's. Granted, Carrie's been around longer. But what do you do with really cool curtains that just go better in her room? And they have two kinds of pink in them. See the image for the Mondrian-style curtains James salvaged from a Springfield furniture expedition yesterday.
He reports that most of the boy stuff is cheesy. This goes for clothes too. (But he has to wear something James! Get something for him to put on his bottom!) (James does the shopping -- hey, you think you're married to a metro sexual? Ha. Go look at the pictures of our house. And yet, still a guy unable to see the real difference between size 2, size 4, size 6, size 8, and size 10. I'm size four most of the time.)
Our neighbors celebrated the 4th birthday of their son, Matthew. They combined the party with a cookout for a good time for kids and parents.