This will be my first year attending AWP and my first time in New York City. Though I am counting down the minutes, there is just so much to do. My mother is coming over to babysit Telemachus. Even though he doesn't smell (well...maybe a teeny bit), she insisted that I bath him. She thinks I should bath him every week, but that is not good for his pug skin. This is a picture I took of him today (on my cell phone) in his bath robe. Notice the ray of light in the background announcing what a divine little thing he is. My mom gets annoyed with my strict regulations on the quantity of food Telemachus can have. He acts hungry all the time. Pugs just do that. They know how to manipulate you. At the mere mention or sight of food, Telemachus spins in chaotic circles. As much as he loves me, he would sell me out for a sliver of hamburger without thinking twice. Last summer when I went to Bisbee for a week, my mom stayed with Telemachus and he gained two pounds. How is that possible? That is like a human gaining 20. She thinks I starve him but anyone who has seen him knows that he is plenty well fed. What will happen if she watches him this summer when I go to Ireland? I will come home to a baby hippo instead of a pug. Mom, I know you read this. I am appreciative for all you do, but you can love him without making him resemble a pig anymore than he already does.
I decided that I wanted brown hair. This is the first time in my life (except that time many years ago when I had blue hair...oops...and that time I had pink hair) that I have not had blond or semi-blond hair. I don't know yet if I like the change, but it's winter, so who cares. I may need to add some lighter chunks of caramel or dark blond.
Four years ago my friend Jacquie went to Ireland with me for spring break. When we returned we were sick. All we wanted was to go back again. So we did. No one believed two born and bred Akron kids would buy a backpack and a plane ticket and leave. People thought we were joking. It wasn't until the day that we left that Jacquie's parents knew it was real. It ended up being the best time of our lives. Jacquie never had the money to return after that summer. I returned a few times without her. I made new memories with another favorite friend of mine. But I ached for Jacquie, for our Irish summer. Last May Jacquie took her tax money and moved to the very Irish village we fell in love with four years ago this March. She is madly in love with a chef at one of the three pubs in the village. And so this summer I will return to Ireland. First I will travel with my friend Kelli, then I will stay with Jacquie in Doolin. I don't know how long I will stay. That depends on my mother's willingness to watch Telemachus. If you're reading this Jacquie, I can't wait to see you. I can't wait to go to McDermott's and listen to The Ceili Bandits. And most of all, I can't wait to play Lord of the Rings while we walk the cliffs. I still get to be Aragorn. Are you still my Gimli?
Look at that gorgeous Barrett Christy Gnu 150 cm snowboard. All her poor owner wants is a few weeks of good riding weather. Of course, the sweet owner of this board has no idea how she will finance a trip to Seven Springs (especially since she is saving up for AWP), but at this point, she may even settle for Brandywine.
I love to take walks. My favorite walk to take is from the village of Doolin to the Cliffs of Moher. I imagine it is about a five mile walk or so, but it takes a few hours. Many parts of the walk are dangerous, barbed wire and cows on one side of you and a 200-700 foot drop to the Atlantic on the other side of you. There are parts of the journey where you think, "Why am I doing this? I could have just taken the bus to the visitor's center." But then you get to the highest point. You take a picture like this and you are happy to be alive, happy to be a muddy mess, even happy that the wind has blown your hair into dreadlocks. You hitchhike back to town because there is no way you can walk back. When you get to town you go to an Internet cafe and email your mother to tell her you were hitchhiking again in Ireland. She writes you back, tells you to quit hitchhiking and that she loves and misses you. You never want to go home, but you always do. You return every chance you get.
I decided about six months ago that I wanted to submit to The New York Quarterly. They get a ridiculous amount of submissions a month yet they still accept simultaneous submissions and they respond within six weeks. Once, they rejected me within 10 days. This time though, I made it to the second tier. Sweet rejection, how I love checking the mail.
...as part of a class requirement, I had to go to a poetry reading in Pittsburgh. When I got there, Terrance Hayes was reading. I got out Hip Logic today. The last poem in the book is one of my favorite poems in the entire world. It is called The Same City. I also really love the poem of his that was included in last year's Best American Poetry. I can't remember for sure, but I think that poem is called Talk. In a class I am taking this spring, we will be reading Hayes' book Wind In A Box. Maybe that's what triggered my dream. You can hear Hayes read The Same City at : poetsonline.blogspot.com/2007/10/terrance-hayes-two-poems-in-same-city.html
I emailed my thesis to my committee today (aka the poetry dream team). I thought it would feel really good, but I feel strange...sorta unproductive. I always complain about being so busy, but I think it is what saves me from craziness. Cheesy quote time. I cannot do without something which is greater than I, the power to create. -VvG
