squirrelrocket

I realized that this blog has very little continuity, and that it makes no real chronological sense. So, a bit of a transition, with numbers, no less:

1. The semester's over, and has been for a little while. Which is very nice, since I have all As in my easy but time-consuming classes, and can now focus my attention on reading and knitting and things. 
2. I've done very little reading, though, because the time that I don't spend at work tends to be spent knitting. I'm more obsessed with it than ever. And I shudder to think about how my craving for yarn will increase when I get my first full paycheck.
3. I'm working this summer at my university's Office of Housing. I was hired as a "grammar expert," and spend most of my time proofreading and/or filing things and trying to slow myself down so that I don't run out of work to do.
4. I'm also writing and continuing to work on my poetry manuscript. The goal is to have it ready to send to contests by late September. Which is scary and great simultaneously.
5. I was accepted to attend the Juniper Summer Writing Institute and study poetry, so I'll be in Amherst, Massachusetts from June 20-27!  Which is also scary and great simultaneously.

Also, after work today I'm heading home to visit with my parents and my cat, which makes me happy.

I've also seen Iron Man 2 twice so far, and have decided that I need to proofread for Stark Industries. Where can I fill out an application?

Today is the last day of classes for this semester! I still have a few things to do--essay for an exam, a response paper for Poetry Workshop, a revision of my Modern Poetry paper, and organizing and turning in my Scholars journal--but altogether, I'm doing pretty well on keeping on top of things, even if I did spend the weekend procrastinating, reading The Gunslinger, watching movies, and running back and forth between my apartment and the Cooper basement to dodge tornadoes.

Yeah. Tornadoes. On Saturday we had lots of storms and rain, and now there are all sorts of nasty flood-related things going on around the state. I've heard that a few people went home over the weekend and ended up stranded away from school because the Interstate is flooded. There has been talk of lifeboats and evacuations.

Luckily, everything is fine here in Martin. Although I was absolutely terrified, as I am every time I have to go down to the Cooper basement to wait out tornado warnings. We did play Apples to Apples, though. And that makes most emergency situations better.

Finals week should be relaxing. I have a BeanSwitch publication party tonight, and SI sessions on Tuesday and Wednesday, though those obligations aren't bad. And there's a Humanities and Fine Arts picnic on Tuesday, which means free food and hanging out with professors, which means I'm there. Other than that and homework, I'm free. I only have two exams, and both of them are (or are mostly) essay exams. So once my homework is finished, I'll just be waiting around and reading Stephen King until my job starts on the 12th.

Yes, job! Unlike last summer, this year I'm not going to be a transient dog-sitter! As much as I love dog-sitting, one of my professors recommended me for a job in Housing, working for her husband. It's a full-time position that pays well, and I get to proofread, compare literature about housing on other campuses, maybe lead tours, and possibly shred things. I was hired because of my proofreading and copy-editing skills--they specifically wanted a "good English major"--so the focus will be on proofreading and on writing letters and emails. So secretarial work. Which means an office indoors, with no sunburns, and lots of time to think about my senior project. And they're fine with my taking a week off to attend Juniper. It's perfect.

So all in all, I'm excited about the summer. It should be very regular and a bit boring, with lots of reading and writing. Which is just the way I like things.

Bowling Green, Kentucky! For the Robert Penn Warren Conference!

Which is not nearly as exciting as Denver, CO, for the AWP conference! Where I met Rita Dove! And saw/heard Joy Harjo and Kim Addonizio and all sorts of other poets whom I love!

Bowling Green is also the reason that I am in the library right now, trying to finish a paper on Laura Riding before tomorrow, so that I can reward myself with Huddle House afterward.

But neither of these things is nearly as exciting as the fact that I am studying at the Juniper Summer Writing Institute in Amherst, Massachusetts, this June! Woohoo!

I hope I'm not getting sick, by the way. I'm sneezy and achy.

So a few days ago I learned that I had won some sort of award at the Sigma Tau Delta convention.

Today I discovered that it was the convention prize for poetry. And that it carries with it a $500 check. Which I now have.

Add that to the Robert G. Cowser Award for Poetry, and you get $650 that I have made for writing poetry this semester.

Pleased.

Last night in St. Louis. I should be working on my Modern Poetry essay, but I'm just not feeling that at the moment. I tried working on it this morning, writing about "What the Thunder Said," but that was crap, so I scrapped the whole thing and have a decent introductory paragraph about "A Game of Chess." Both from T. S. Eliot's The Waste Land, perhaps obviously. I'm frustrated with the whole thing because I love The Waste Land more every time I read it--and I read snippets of it often--and I'm having trouble talking about it in a coherent way, even though I've written about it before on exams. Twice, I think.

I also think it's awful that I can't just snap out an essay about Eliot when I'm in St. Louis, for the love of God. Is this why the famous writers who were born or who lived here moved away? Because no one can write here?

But I can never write anything good when I'm traveling, anyway. I need things that are familiar. If things don't smell the way I'm used to them smelling, my chemistry is thrown off and I can't write. I can get used to places after about a week, if I know I'm going to be there for a while, but otherwise, it just ruins the whole thing.

I managed two paragraphs on my literary journalism piece for Creative Nonfiction, though. And traveling does nothing detrimental to my reading.  I took a bath and read Lucille Clifton tonight. You know a poem is good when you have to flip the book over to look at the author photo because it feels like you're having a conversation with this person and it feels weird not to look her in the eye.

I have to write a formal poem for Tuesday. I need to find a way into this, a way to make it a cute little exercise with numbers and whatnot, or it's going to drive me crazy. I don't have any emotions ruminative enough for a pantoum. And that's the easy one.

Sigma Tau Delta left me feeling weirdly old and stodgy and insanely confident. It made me realize that I'm a professional poet, and that being a professional is much different than saying a lot of esoteric-sounding things about your attachment to your Moleskine and about catharsis and about where your inspiration comes from. It's not about money. It's about approach. Like knowing that it's bullshit to sit around waiting for "inspiration" when there are poems fucking hanging out of trees if you can manage to read and write enough to see them. I wish everyone could study with Dr. LaChance. Except not. Because I'm competitive and want to be on the cover of Poets & Writers, dammit.

I curse more when I'm tired.

But I can't be too tired yet. I have an essay to work on, and I promised myself that I'd work on catching up on French--where did Spring Break go and what did I do with it?--if I got a few paragraphs out of the way. I still have to read some Alexander Pope for Monday, and manage a bit more literary journalism. Back to school on Monday. And I need time to spend with Dave tomorrow after the drive back to Martin.

I need another week off.

Spring break! Right now I'm in St. Louis, MO, for the Sigma Tau Delta conference, where I'm presenting a collection of original ekphrastic poetry on Saturday, and, until then, bitching about how much I dislike large cities that are not New York. Because cities that are not New York mean I have to drive in six lanes of traffic full of unpleasantly crazy people. But we're working on sorting that out and getting passes for the train.

The Arch, by the way, looks like paper. Even up close. It's freaky.

Last night I got the best sleep of my life in this hotel. Today I think we're going to explore around the university. And probably go to at least one Sigma Tau Delta related thing.

From Friday until Tuesday I was at my parents' house in Woodbury, where I mostly just bought things and crocheted a giant granny square and read. Julia Child's My Life in France is lovely, and was good for helping me practice my French. (I decided to teach myself with free About.com lessons and supplemental reading. It's going decently well so far. Bonjour! Je m'appelle Brittney! Je suis canard!* And so forth.)

Now I'm reading Horns by Joe Hill, and it's not lovely, but neither would the author wish it to be so, so it all works out for the best.

I would really rather stay in all day, but I suppose that would be bad form. Until I get to go home, I might as well not be too cantankerous about things. Clothes, then. Au revoir!

*Yes, I know that canard is duck.

After holding out for so long and saying so many negative things about what it's doing to our culture's attention span, I have succumbed to temptation and gotten a Twitter.

And it creeps me out to no end that I can now actually communicate with famous people.

Because sometimes I drink margaritas and think about famous people.

And I'm strange when I drink margaritas.

And Apolo Ohno doesn't need to know all the things I think.

But I'm afraid the margaritas might force me to tell him against my will.

. . .I just don't think I'm responsible enough for this nonsense.

Last night I posted three brand-new items on my Etsy shop!

Please visit my shop to see all my listings! Each item is handmade and unique!