from the Baltimore Book Festival...

This weekend was my debut at the Baltimore Book Festival, the first time reading the steam sequence. I was super super nervous, but I think everything came across very well.

While at the festival, I had my handwriting analyzed. It turns out I'm a very erratic person and go through moods very quickly, sometimes I'm moody, sometimes I'm warm and inviting. I crave my own space and don't respond well to criticism about myself and am impatient. And I also have a hard time communicating how I really feel about things, What really amazed me is how long the line for this booth was, how fascinated we all are with ourselves and how much we want to know something more, find deeper meanings in our birthdays, our zodiac, numerology, handwriting, etc. We need explanations, rational and otherwise. Easpecially around this time of year (I'm about to head back home for Yom Kippur), I always find myself wondering if I'm doing alright, if I'm a good enough person and how can I be better next year. I'm also wondering what sort of a coincidence is it that the book is really debuting at the beginning of the Jewish year. Moira had brought some wine to celebrate and what I really liked about the festival was really her, her wonderful friends in Baltimore, hanging out with Piotr and Molly.

I also met the fiction winner, Denis, and I'm very excited to read with him again and to get my hands on his novel Nora's Army when it comes out in October. After the reading we headed over to the swanky engineer's club and he toasted me there and we all felt really good about books. And on another note, I'm also realizing I need to watch what I say here as I found parts of a blog entry quoted in the Festival bulletin. It was the post about me having a poetry crush on Piotr and how wonderful it was to find someone near you whose work you really love and how you can get to know them if you're not too psycho or stalker-esque. Luckily for me, he was my editor so I didn't have to work any angles, I had a natural in. Before the reading he told me to pause. And afterwards, I got a big hug from him, from Jonathan, Moira, everyone. Something happened while I was reading that has never happened before---I felt almost trance-like, how the sequence read me, not the other way around. Something ghostly and beautiful. As if this woman I created could now speak.

A Nod to Janet...

Yesterday was a take control day. I decided, after some gentle pressing from my colleagues that I should apply for a few jobs on the mla list...so I did---sending them out today in fact. And Shannon and I didn't put up with any monkey business at the bar last night...no I will not "top off" your drink. No I will not comp. your drinks because you think you deserve to drink for free all night because you once did because your wife was our guest a few months ago. Since you want to be a big shot, you will tip us accordingly. We have an autogratuity button and if you decide to splurge on 6 or more of your friends, you will have to tip on that tab as well. And yes, we got complimented on our looks and more importantly our intelligence as artists. Brains and Beauty, imagine that. The lesson learned...if you act like you own it, you already do.

Poets Bare All...

or rather, some...check out the Burlesque

On the New Year

It's a new year, though it doesn't feel like it. Rosh Hashanah really snuck up on me---perhaps going back home to Ohio for Yom Kippur will solidify this time of year. I always end up kinda of sad, nervous, taking stock, and feeling excited about what could be in store in the upcoming year---and reflecting on how many changes have happened. This has been a big year and I think the next brings more. I've been listening a lot to my Erin Johnson cd lately---she lived next to me freshman year and was the Sarah McLaughlin of Heer Hall and I think of all of us around the piano in the dimly lit study lounge and building fires, of walking in and out and the music and how immediate it all was and now, how long the corridors of memory.

Just this week another one of my former students asked me to write his letter of rec. for a study abroad program. He wrote of how important it is for us to step outside of ourselves and become part of another culture, not just travel, but really contribute to the community in which you become a part of----his statement of purpose really touched me and made me feel part of something larger. I often wonder what it is to teach writing, if they get when we spend half of a class listing other words for red---and then naming objects and feelings associated with it, if this is a significant thing with a capital S. Last year at this time, I had decided it was time to really pursue the teaching and so I gave up the 9-5, became a bartender so I could teach more and I think that was one of the best decisions I've ever made. Soon after that I found out my first book would be coming out, and here it is and it all still seems so surreal, how far I've come from scribbling to candlelight and piano, how here I am, the same music, a cup of tea, and writing on my students' poems, thinking how much they sounded like me, almost twenty and so so alive.

The Bartender Tells All

Well, not me, but some of my colleagues expound. For a while, I've thought about writing an inside the bar post---so you know what to do or not do for a while, but it looks like a few others already have! So before you tell me to make your drink strong or try to hit on me with your lame-o lines or expect me to be your sole entertainment for the night, read up sipsters!

http://dcdrinks.blogspot.com/2006/09/your-bartender-hates-you-heres-why.html
http://www.jeffreymorgenthaler.com/moblog/index.php?p=294I'm not bitter and haven't been turned sour by the industry, I'm just a big fan of proper etiquitte. Sometimes people don't tell you those things, like having spinach in your teeth. You should know better!

Live Like a Rockstar

Another perk of my job is that I can meet wonderful people who are with a band and sometimes even get to be on the guest list so I can see the band...So after a night of mingling and drinking a little too much (I'm a two martini girl) and selling double the amount of books I had sold (I'm up to 61 now) I got to see The Black Crows. And then last night, a wine tasting dinner at Dino in my old neighborhood. Today it's pajamas and student poems.

Book Party

Sold two more books while bartending last night! Tomorrow is the book party, so come celebrate with me at Bar Rouge from 6-9 p.m.!

The Weather is Fitting

Five years ago I woke up to one of my roommates screaming "Fire fire!" I thought she was talking about something in the apartment so I tried frantically grabbing my most valuable possessions. Then she told me to look at the t.v. It's somewhat ironic that I got a new shower curtain with a photograph of the Brooklyn Bride circa 1950, the Towers on the left, tall and almost out of place now. Rob began today's yoga practice asking us to dedicate this hour to someone in need, still, something lost. It is grey and the sky is holding back the rain. Sometimes I wonder how the weather seems to fit with a moment, grey and like this when I went to the concentration camps, warm summer rains on first date nights, a chill fall air to walk home with someone you just met. But getting back to today, five years ago. I was taking my poem to be copied for one of my first writer's workshops of grad school. I was thinking that everything would be back to normal, and that night I would be workshopping poems. The woman in the office told me I was in the middle of a panic attack, that my body was in shock and that it felt it had to continue with the normal routine. I remember how still the city was. I went out for Chinese for lunch since we had no food and everyone was just quiet. I remember coming back to my apartment to look at walls with nothing yet hung, thinking that I was somehow being cheated of my MFA experience. My school became a triage center and everything was off kilter and could not be righted.

Good Morning

It's funny watching GG get comfortable in the apartment. This morning he actually crawled into bed--which really isn't a surprise as he's become more sassy in his relationship with the furniture. He likes sitting on the speakers and running across the coffee table. After about 30 minutes of that I decided it was time to go to the farmer's market. My purchases: basil, pears, and cheese. I came home and made waffles with some of the pears on top. Ramona thinks she may be up for some internet dating. Robert isn't panning out and she needs someone who will be there when she calls.

Wireless at the Rouge

The semester started and I think it's going to be a great one. Everyone really opened up on introduction day, so much that I barely had time to even start reading the poems with them. I'm glad that everyone was so open and I think a lot of trust was created and some walls broken down. I'm really looking forward to the photo writing assignment as it's always good to begin away from the self. We also had our famous faculty dinner and I am reminded of how lucky I am to be a part of such a talented and kind group of writers. I'm hoping this year we will be able to spend some time together more informally like we always say we will...but time, that crazy bird, always has us in flight. Then again, that's what I always think on Saturday---yoga, lunch, visiting the cats at the animal adoption in Dupont, and then Rouge! Though today I brought the laptop so I could blog from the bar (everyone else is playing outside). Stealthy me :) I suppose I should see what Jessery is doing. I hear something being shaken, not stirred!

I've been discovered

Last night one of Fred Pollack's former students came into the Rouge and overheard me talking to someone else that I was a professor at GW. Would that be a conflict of interest...to pass out poems and drinks? Hmmm...I make a mean Manhattan straight up, no metaphors please!

Balance

While in Ocean City, I was able to catch up on some good beach reading. A while ago---perhaps even for college graduation, my Aunt gave me a book of essays of writers on writing. The one I really loved was Gish Jen's Inventing Life Steals Time, Living Life Begs it Back--and it was about the dichotomy a writer experiences between the real world and the fictional world and how does one find a balance between living and writing. I think that's something so many of us struggle with---for we writers could always be writing, but how much of that writing will actually be worth it. Do we sacrifice our lives for our writing or do we sacrifice our writing for our lives?

With the book coming out, I feel like I'm at some kind of cross roads, though I would like to think, I'm just walking along and finding enough time to stop and smell the roses, but also walking briskly enough. It rained all day, a fitting end to the summer as I'm getting ready for a new semester. Tomorrow is my first day teaching and I have this excited nervousness that I can't seem to shake, that always pops up at this time. I remember it from college, even when I wasn't the one in charge. It's like a new page. I love the way the air smells. It smells like college. One of my best friends from college called a few days ago to tell me some exciting news, she's pregnant and I think even though how much it seems like I'm not that far removed from that time of thinking and drinking, we've come so far from those halls of Heer.

Off to Ocean City

As if I didn't have enough vacation already!!!

Demo Cat

Shannon brought GG over this morning so I could try out having a cat and someone can take care of GG while she is off galavanting in Spain. So far, he spent the morning finding all the good hiding spaces in the apartment and I spent the morning editing and typing up poems written on vacation. Then, right when I was finishing up, he came out and rubbed up against my leg and the desk chair. I feel like a real poet now. Maggie Anderson has a series of Black Dog poems, but I warned Shannon that there may end up being some Black Cat poems written.

Vacation Story Board

So, I thought it would be fun to post a few pictures and see if you can find a thread of narrative. Here's my version. We all have our vices. You have to wear protective gear to keep you climbing up that path you want, or to keep the birds from shitting on you. No matter, nature will cleanse you!

Jet Lag, Blog Lag

I've been on vacation (I still am) and have some great photos and stories, but since I'm still on vacation (just down here to print my boarding passes) I'll make you wait---however, you can hear them before I post them if you come to Burlesque Poetry Hour tomorrow where I will be fresh off the plane from the west coast---that means I will have gotten up at about 3 am east coast time to greet you, so it's a good thing I'm hosting and not reading. So we've got three wonderful poets who you should come out and hear...Natalie Illum, Fred Pollack, and Ravi Shankar! Who will be fresher than a daisy or at least more so than Lolita!

Chrysallis

While at the gym this morning, I learned that this was the title of the Toni Basil album that had the "Hey Mickey" song---makes me wonder what those other tracks sounded like as I only remember bouncing around my mom's bedroom on Saturday mornings listening to the top 40 and how one time Toni didn't make it and I was sad because we had had this great dance as it had been on every Saturday. Though I suppose change is natural, but at 6, I just wanted my song to be played---I wasn't yet tired of it.

But getting back to the word of the day---I had ice cream with an old friend who I met at camp when i was 15. Since then, he has traveled all over the world and has most recently left his job as a speech writer for the Israeli ambassador at the UN to attend law school here in DC. His nickname back then was Bug. Talk about change! And here he was impressed with my book...?! However, it was my book that scored us free scoops at Larry's and Larry bought the book as well!

Check Me Out

www.wwph.org

This week I'm wrapping up my online class and then it's off to Portland and Seattle, but don't worry, I'll be back before you can say Burlesque Poetry Hour.

My copy of Ekphrasis came in the mail today and I'm really excited to read all of these poems about art---I don't even really remember how I got so into that---I think a friend said, you have to see this statue and then it seemed like I was always in the National Gallery, wandering around and writing. As I was talking to one of my students the other day, I was explaining how at some point, her writing will shift away from herself---what I like about writing about art, is that it takes you away from the self--and lets you jump in the minds and bodies of other selves. When I was younger, it seemed like I had to write about me (I still do, after all, this is my blog) but I find myself, now, not appearing in my own poems. What can I say, I'm boring :). Today I graded, did laundry, went to the drug store and the grocery store and will be baking my raspberry chocolate brownies---who really wants to read about that!

I think that's why I like the voice of the persona, you get to be someone else, or at least take your attention away from your own life.

A Lazy Friday

Since Blackboard is down, I can't access any of my students' writing and so that means karmically, I think I'm supposed to have the day off. I even woke up before nine to start reading their short stories. Ah, well, I sent out the evite for the book party and now I'm going to make breakfast and hope some of them have emailed me their work so we don't get set back too much. The other day I freaked out because my internet was working and I got so frantic thinking I wouldn't get everything done that needed getting done. But I did, *sigh*, of course I knew I would and that none of it would really mattered in the grand scheme of things, but oh, how we let ourselves get all riled up!

So today, yoga, ordering the new couch, coffee, and some salsa later on with Jonathan--and hopefully some short stories zing their way over :)

It's Here!

And you can order the book on Amazon.com or through Small Press Distribution---pick your vendor :)

Shannon helped me pick out the shoes to match!

A Lot of Personality

Noah dubbed me little miss sunshine at the Rouge last night. My hair can't take the heat--it curls and frizzes so it's back to braids, up do's, and of course flowers! And why wouldn't I be--Shannon is coming tomorrow to pick up the book with me from Piotr's place in B'more, then a cool lunch in Hamden and date night at Asia Nora (Ramona's playing third wheel). I've been working on so many of my other projects that she feels neglected. After all, she's the one who started the flowers, not me :) I hope she doesn't get too jealous of this ghostly woman she's about to meet.

Sunshine Day

Yesterday I found out the book will be here friday! I'm so excited and nervous to see it. To celebrate, Karl and I went to the Smithsonian Museum of American Art and The Portrait Gallery---which are my new favorite museums in DC (sorry National Gallery and Hirshorn). We've decided to start collaborating and our first poem was incredible (I may be biased). But it was uncanny to see how easily they resonated. We've made a pact to keep it up so here's hoping this wasn't a fluke. And yesterday the most gorgeous books arrived from Kore Press in Arizona---I'll definitely be reviewing something they sent for the KGB Lit Mag. And to top it off we had an incredible lunch at Poste---conveniently located right across from the museum so I have a funny feeling I'll be spending a good number of afternoons there. Everything is good in ice cream form--including mustard and cucumbers. Really, I swear!

I'm Vindicated!!!

My mom called today to tell me I made local news. Check it out by pasting http://www.vindy.com/content/society/311620887233040.php into your browser. I'm so excited I forgot how to make a click-able link!

I'm not sure if all those typos were in the original but the info is there :)

Good News

A series of unconnected events---there is a huge fat ugly moth that I have to step over to get my mail. After I get the mail, my neighbors and I all get to talking about this thing on the steps. I go inside and open the mail and find out that my poem "Self Portrait with Cigarette" (about Edward Munch, not me) was a finalist in the 2006 Ekphrasis Prize. What this means is that my poem will be published along with the other finalists in the next issue. I get a contributor's copy. Jonathan comes over with yellow flowers.

From the Bartender Diaries

We're not supposed to say when someone famous or sort of famous walks in the bar and we can't ask them about their fame. We're just supposed to treat them like regular folks and act natural---no fawning and asking for autographs and whatnot. We can even kick them out at last call...which I've done twice this week. There have also been some conference go-ers who made me recite poetry b/c I'm the resident poet at the Rouge (can I put that one on the resume) and so I'm sometimes called upon in my drink making, to recite---my last call lines being from Dylan Thomas...do not go gentle into that good night, rage, rage, against the dying of the light---it got them out so I guess it did the job :)

I just hope this resident poet status sells some books. So preorder your copies at amazon.com and you too can toast the resident poet on September 15th at Bar Rouge (where else) where I'll be drinking (not bartending) and celebrating the book.

Cheers!

Dance Dance Revolution

Tonight is Salsa night---Jonathan and I start dance lessons. Since moving out of Kent and Youngstown, I've really missed swing dancing and so we decided to try something new so we could both learn together. Actually, today has been a very dance centered day as this afternoon Shannon and I had lunch and we talked about the steam sequence---giving Shannon a better idea about who this woman is so she could begin to start working with movement. I'm really excited to be collaborating with her and next week we'll be in the studio! She was asking me a lot of questions about the woman, many of which I hadn't ever thought about while writing the poems. I don't think I could have done it if I had some direction in mind though---I often tell my students that writing isn't a path to some greater theme or idea and that you have to let the writing tell you what it wants to do. I like how some things just aren't explainable---which is esentially the "message" behind the sequence.

It's That Time of the Month Again!

BPH--Sandra Beasley, Christopher Salerno and Karl Parker

This morning I went to the Phillips and got back to working on the museum manuscript---I had gone with the intention of writing about the Klee paintings but ended up mesmerized by a small Cezanne in the corner of a room.

Came back home and found out I'll be reading with Anna Ziegler at GW in November and that in the middle of my life, Sonia Sanchez is doing something (more than writing poems) about the war. Yesterday my friend Leslie asked me to give some insight into what's happening in Israel and Lebanon because I'm the only Jewish person she knows.


http://www.citypaper.net/articles/2006-07-06/cover.shtml

I keep watching the news and really don't know what to make of all of this. One of my students wrote a phenomenal vilanelle about it, and I'm glad to see politics coming in to the arts. I have been talking a lot to them about the importance of art and how it can help us to see the world, and to inspire us to reconsider our positions, to examine new ideas, and to perhaps even move us to action.

The Politics of Pinching

Last night Jonathan and I watched the news before going to bed. It doesn't seem all that monumental, but I'm actually one who prefers to not watch news---I'm not sure why I am so against it---perhaps the sensationalism and the idea of images clipped together to tell the story. Maybe I prefer the writing, but even that can be the same way. I have to say that I hate the graphics and slogans they come up with---Crisis in the Middle East, Day 8....and that switching of Israeli and Lebanese flags at the bottom of the screen. I also don't know what to make of this whole situation. All I know is that the issue defies complexity and I don't know if there is any sense to be had and certainly not a right and a wrong at this point. Whenever someone asked me if I think there would be peace in the Middle East, my response was always, not in this lifetime. Not so optimistic from an optimist. Jonathan sent me the link to a blog from Lebanon so I will pass that on. http://cedarseed.livejournal.com/

I'm not one who usually is concerned with politics, but lately I think I'm changing my mind, at least in terms of bringing it into art---I've been telling my students to consider doing what Jane Kenyon Does in "Three Small Oranges." I really like the idea of seeing the significance of the daily and how we need to start opening our eyes to that which is beyond our lines of sight. Here's a link for this poem: http://www.izaak.unh.edu/exhibits/kenhall/ORANGES.HTM

Last night I went to my first crab feast with Jonathan and tried to partake but really found the whole thing pretty vulgar. I was glad when he showed me how cut up his hands were---all that carnage---he deserved the pinching. Then again, I don't know if one can justify these small things. Maybe there is a poem in all of this...

The Politics of Pinching

Last night Jonathan and I watched the new before going to bed. It doesn't seem all that monumental, but I'm actually one who prefers to not watch news---I'm not sure why I am so against it---perhaps the sensationalism and the idea of images clipped together to tell the story. Maybe I prefer the writing, but even that can be the same way. I have to say that I hate the graphics and slogans they come up with---Crisis in the Middle East, Day 8....and that switching of Israeli and Lebanese flags at the bottom of the screen. I also don't know what to make of this whole situation. All I know is that the issue defies complexity and I don't know if there is any sense to be had and certainly not a right and a wrong at this point. Whenever someone asked me if I think there would be peace in the Middle East, my response was always, not in this lifetime. Not so optimistic from an optimist. Jonathan sent me the link to a blog from Lebanon so I will pass that on. http://cedarseed.livejournal.com/

I'm not one who usually is concerned with politics, but lately I think I'm changing my mind, at least in terms of bringing it into art---I've been telling my students to consider doing what Jane Kenyon Does in "Three Small Oranges." I really like the idea of seeing the significance of the daily and how we need to start opening our eyes to that which is beyond our lines of sight. Here's a link for this poem: http://www.izaak.unh.edu/exhibits/kenhall/ORANGES.HTM

Last night I went to my first crab feast with Jonathan and tried to partake but really found the whole thing pretty vulgar. I was glad when he showed me how cut up his hands were---all that carnage---he deserved the pinching. Then again, I don't know if one can justify these small things. Maybe there is a poem in all of this...

You Always Knew I Was Nuts

http://www.coconutpoetry.org

now you can be sure! I've actually calmed down a bit...I realize that my imagination can and usually does get the best of me. Luckily, a trip to the Jesus salon (Jesus #1, hair #2---that's what my stylist says) was what I needed. My stylist actually reminds me a bit of my friend Katherine, the hippist Christian I know (Sarah is the second hippest). I mean, if Jesus could have rocked the purple hair, I'm sure that would have been right up there with the water to wine business. Speaking of color--not only did my hair get some, but also my walls, a pale (calming) green.

Crazy but Avec Ice Cream

Lately I've been feeling really jumpy. And very self-judging. Aunt Sue sent a great quote and a timely one too: Happiness is like a butterfly. The more you chase it, the more it will
elude you. But if you turn your attention to other things, it comes softly and sits on your shoulder.

---Henry David Thoreau

Though I don't know how to make the jumpy go away---neurosis comes natural to me. Even the ice cream at Larry's two days in a row hasn't helped cool me off. Though it was funny to see the lady ahead of me get so pissed off she walked out of the store when Larry would only let her sample one flavor--and said he'd let her sample two...but this woman wanted to sample three...as if one really needs to make a careful and cautious ice cream decision. I mean, you should know what flavor you want, or at least have some idea. It's good to know there are some people more jumpy than you. At least I ended up with a chocolate shake!

Today Is Galley Day

Someone needs to give me a big pinch---today it all becomes real with the book. I was so excited, I couldn't sleep. The galleys for the book arrive today and Piotr and I have one more final edit before we go to press.

Last night I helped one of our business guests draft an email---well, in between serving him Grey Goose rocks, I gave him the expensive words to use. He said I should think about being a consultant in terms of business writing and asked for my card, and silly me, no business card. So, that's another thing to put on the to do list.

Marissa sent along this fun self awareness check in: http://www.paulsadowski.com/birthday.asp

and make sure you do the name one too. It's pretty accurate!

More Pinches

Shannon's back from Ireland and we're going...well, more like she's going to choreograph the steam sequence. We talked a little bit about the project yesterday. Maybe all this yoga will make me ready for my dancing debut.

I actually let out a fuck in yoga class yesterday and a somewhat loud one as I fell out of the pose and into the shelving in the back of the room. No worries, I'm ok.

Maybe Shannon should not let me be a dancer.

Will be reading at Gallery 324 in Cleveland on Saturday October 14th so now I have two Cleveland gigs. Mac's Backs the 17th, 7 p.m.

Little Pinches of My Week

On Sunday I went to Patric and Piotr's reading at Iota and on the way there my strappy sandal broke. Luckily Sandra had her chariot to take me back to DC.

The key to making a good Manhattan is a hint of cherry juice. I learned that from my father.

Small press publishing is challenging and much depends on the author to sell books. This morning I spoke with Naomi from Lotus and really felt what small press publishing was about.

Firehook bakery really does have great brownies.

I saw the pinch commercial and am obsessed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7lZ9aHXnTXY

So Much for Not Being a Fancy Lady

Janeil invited me out for ladies lunch so I decided to wear a little black dress since we were going somewhere classy. I'm of course now back in my sweats as I work from home when not slinging swanky cosmos around. But it was cool to be out and about and fancy. Speaking of fancy, just bought a great wool suit (On Sale)--got love those post 4th of July markdowns, so I will be styling come fall. Made travel plans for Ohio, Portland, and Seattle and just found out I'll be reading at Emory University next February and have almost lined up gigs in Philly and Florida. Looks like this is going to be a jet set year. And speaking of jet setting, today I was reading Gioconda Belli's "From Eve's Rib." She's a Nicaraguan poet whose books began coming out in the 1970's. So far, I think she's kind of like Sonia Sanchez...sexy and political. Take this line: "And the books/ spread out on my bed are like men I've made love with in an/ orgy of arms and legs that awaken my passion for life,/ biting my nipples , my sex and filling me with a special/ semen made from letters fecundating me..."

Yes, we are the classier sex!

Contemplation after the Fourth

Last night I watched the DC sky fill with light from a friend's boss's rooftop. I have to confess I wasn't thinking about America unless thinking about America means not really thinking about it---what I mean is that our freedom allows us not to think about it. I remember being in Israel for their Independence Day and really feeling connected to the country even though I had only been there a few days.

There are so many things we don't have to think about here, or perhaps we think about the wrong things. Listening to the people I know here and the way they talk about work, politics, but not so much about family, love, and togetherness and the things that really matter. I often wonder if this is what living on the east coast does, though I know this is a gross generalization. So many restaurants and bars where open last night (not Kimpton!) and I wondered why. Back in Ohio it seemed like Belmont Ave. would close down and no one would be out...but out in their backyards. Maybe I'm just being nostalgic and not remembering correctly. This seems to be like one does when one goes from one thing to another, whether place, person, memory, or thing.

Lately, I've been feeling like I'm at a crossroads, not sure what the different paths are, but with the book and being here in DC, and quote on quote making a life here. It's funny, I always advocate for planting roots, but I seem to like to uproot myself fairly often. But I know I'm not going anywhere this time. Class has started and I'm really excited about learning about my new students and seeing what doors writing opens for them and I'm excited about teaching online. And Mendi left a note on my blog---what the internet does for creating community and bringing people together. And the book and all the wonderful people I've met through poetry and bartending. I guess this is what it's all about---navigating the waters, both familiar and unfamiliar. Yesterday Regrets Only: Contemporary Poets on the Theme of Regret came in the mail (www.littlepearpress.com) and I'm taken back to where I was in 2001, somewhere between Kent and New York City and trying to locate myself. Here's the observation I had: "The difference between drowning and breathing/ is how fast you move your arms."

Sweets to the Sweet

Yesterday the chef at 15 ria fulfilled one of my fantasies. He sent out the entire dessert menu. I had always wanted to order one of everything, especially after Lisa Loeb did it on Number 1 Single. This is one of the perks of being in the "industry." You know the important people in the city---not the movers and shakers, but the bartenders and bakers. You don't have to wait in line at clubs, the chef comes to talk to you and sends over things and those around you wonder who you are and why they don't know you. And the poetry world is offering up her pearls as well. Yesterday I found out that Remica's manuscript, Conversions won the Naomi Long Madgett Poetry Prize, so her book will be coming out of Lotus Press (I'm doing a feature on them for the KGB Lit. Journal) and now the new Beltway:

BELTWAY POETRY QUARTERLY FEATURES THE “DC PLACES ISSUE”
Summer 2006 issue includes work by 52 poets

http://www.beltwaypoetry.com

The DC Places Issue of Beltway Poetry Quarterly, an on-line anthology of poems that celebrate Washington, DC, by naming specific sites in the city (streets, neighborhoods, parks, monuments, or buildings), is the first issue of the journal to go beyond the Mid-Atlantic region and include poets from all across the United States. And what a list of contributors! The issue includes former U.S. Poets Laureates Elizabeth Bishop, Robert Lowell, and William Carlos Williams, and former and current State Poets Laureates Joseph Awad (of Virginia), Fleda Brown (Delaware), Sterling A. Brown (DC), Linda Pastan (Maryland), and Baron Wormser (Maine). A complete list of authors can be found below. Hopefully it will include not only familiar names, but some wonderful new discoveries for you as well.

You can select poems to read from a traditional table of contents, or by clicking on our interactive map, a beautiful addition to the issue provided by Emery Pajer, a Pennsylvania graphic designer who specializes in custom maps.

The DC Places Issue was co-edited by Kim Roberts and Los Angeles poet Andrea Carter Brown. Brown writes in the issue’s introduction: “Every city has its history, but for no other American city is the struggle between local identity and national role so acute.” This presents both a burden and an opportunity for poets, who amply rose to the challenge to portray the city in its public and private aspects, in all its wild complexity.


Contributors: Karren Alenier * Elizabeth Alexander * Joseph Awad * Naomi Ayala * Elizabeth Bishop * Star Black * Derrick Brown *Fleda Brown * Sterling A. Brown * Sarah Browning * Kenneth Carroll * Philip Dacey * Peter Desmond * Thomas Sayers Ellis * Martin Galvin * Simki Ghembremichael * Brian Gilmore * Barbara Goldberg * Patricia Gray * Michael Gushue * Scott Hightower * Bernard Jankowski * Rod Jellema * Fred Joiner * Rosemary Klein * Joe Lapp * Mary Ann Larkin * Lyn Lifshin * Robert Lowell * Greg McBride * E. Ethelbert Miller * Sami Miranda * Miles David Moore * Kathi Morrison-Taylor * Yvette Neisser * Kathleen O’Toole * Linda Pastan * Richard Peabody * Patric Pepper * Carly Sachs * Gregg Shapiro * Evie Shockley * Dean Smith * Mark Tarallo * Hilary Tham * Belle Waring * Josh Weiner * William Carlos Williams * Terence Winch * Baron Wormser * Andrea Wyatt *

Read Beltway Poetry Quarterly at http://www.beltwaypoetry.com

Subscribe for free! Go to the “About Beltway” page: http://www.washingtonart.com/beltway/about.html

Laughing Buddha

Sometimes the straps break and sometimes you fall over. Perhaps it was too much dancing, too much of a load for them to hold up my chest, or perhaps a poor sewing job that caused my dress to come a bit undone over the weekend. Luckily Kjera was packing the super glue in her purse so nothing too unseemly happened. And today Shake Your Booty (the store in which I bought the dress) called and said a new one was on its way.

Today I fell over in high lunge with a twist in yoga. Both mishaps I laughed through--like the buddha, finding humor in our shortcomings. Conversely, the book goes to press today and we've been searching for last minute typos and mishaps. I hope we got them all, because I know I won't be laughing over these mistakes or taking them gracefully. It's actually been pretty stressful--the first time in which the book seems real, almost ready now. Sandra pointed out to me at Burlesque that I've been very hush hush about these poems, not reading them, not sharing them. Perhaps because I think they are a whole, not really meant for one at a time reading. I'm really thinking about what this means, the book, a body of work---and now being on the other end, a reviewer, I'm really interested in the whole of things, not just finding the gems, the coda poems. What I'm reading right now is Mende Lewis Obadike's Armor and Flesh. And really loving the concept of the kinds of armor we wear to protect and sheild ourselves, exposing the masks and what it looks like when we remove them.

Rain Delay

It's been a weekend whirlwind of changes and weather. Annie's married! That's where the pictures are from. Jonathan and I hung out in Coventry, where I used to hang out in college and going back, so many things have changed or moved around. I guess just another indication that nothing ever remains the way it was. Luckily the milkshakes at Tommy's are still the same and you can still get the best used CD's at Record Revolution. We drank a lot and ate a lot of cheese fries. Not such a common thing here on the East Coast so I definitely took advantage of that. But the best was seeing family and friends, because even through change, you grow together. All these girls make me realize how blessed we are to have each other. I think Melissa said it best when she commented in how different we all are, but how that doesn't matter.

We got stuck and extra night and came home to rain and more rain. My ivy is growing quite rapidly and I'm excited I finally have a plant I can keep alive. And in the spirit of growing and producing, my book goes off to press this week! Last night's Burlesque was also full of red pants and hot poetry so make sure you check out the blog. WARNING! Don't view these at work!

Mondays Just Got Hotter!

http://burlesquepoetryhour.blogspot.com/

~Get ready to shake off your Monday Blues~

The Rain Dance

Last Friday, Shannon convinced me to take her ballet class. Everyone else had slippers. I wore my socks. That should tell you how it all went down. Nonetheless, I really liked it. I felt pretty and graceful--when I was doing the stuff right. Which was maybe about half of the time. Next to me at the bar was this guy who comes into the bar--fancy that. My world is starting to get smaller. And wetter. Today I got stuck in a minor apocalypse and was soaked to the core. A kind lady shared her umbrella with me part of the way. This was more of a gesture as the rain was blowing all over and so it didn't really serve any purpose but to have someone else to walk with as we got wet. I came home and made some coffee and began my venture into the world of having a monthly poetry column. That's right, I'll be taking a literary virtual roadtrip as I highlight different presses and poets for the KGB Bar Literary Magazine. I'm really excited to get back to reading and unearthing. I already feel like I found so much. As writers, we often turn inwards and it's nice to see the good work that is out there. You know, we submit to magazines but only read the issues that we're in. But I suppose it all depend on the time you have and how you want to use it. How does one engage in the literary community and still maintain their own writing. I suppose this comes down to balance and who are we to tell each other how to do it. I know I don't have enought time for my own work. Yesterday I wrote a poem and it was the first one in few weeks at least. It came like they usually do---a moment crystalized--from a real story told to me yesterday and then the poem took off from there. I know that's so old school---to be "hit" with inspiration, and then the excited spiral as the poem leads you on the journey. Today in yoga we were told to embrace the what is and open our hearts to that inner voice--the one you don't overthink, the gut impulse or feeling---that the heart, mind, or body have a way of knowing that is just based on feeling (not logic or reason). After the rain hit, I curled up in my sweats and am in for the night with poetry. What a hot date!

New Laureate

One of my favorite poets is now the new laureate! I'm so excited so check it out:

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/14/books/14poet.html?_r=1&oref=slogin

Ha Ha, I'm in a Relationship

Yesterday Raydiance asked me how I make a relationship work. That brings about many interesting questions and anecdotes, as I used to be one of those girls who had a flavor of the month or more accurately week. I was big into trying everything and not having a favorite flavor so to speak. So how does one go from there to where I am now...I'm not quite sure, but I know laughter is a must. Jonathan came over and was helping me hang curtains around my bed and on the ceiling (also helpful to find someone who appreciates your quirks---home decor at 9 pm). I had everything taped up and he let me stick tape all over his clothes as I peeled it from the fabric and the ceiling. Why this was hysterical, I don't know, but he shares my pension for lewd humor and other base things to chuckle about. I also think it's helpful not to yell and to be able to calmly discuss annoyances and try to understand where the other person is coming from before flying off the wall. Because most of these things are never all that big---and trying to see that when it does seem so HUGE. Most importantly, I think is forgiving and forgetting---or at least not necessarity forgetting but being able to turn the situation from tragedy to comedy, to create shared jokes, not where you make fun of the other person but where you laugh together--bringing me back to my original answer. That and ice cream---last night we went out for dessert and paid $7 for coffee ice cream inside a mason jar with some soda water. But jokes on them, it was 100% worth it.

My Milkshake Brings...

You know how the rest of that lyric goes...Yes, Kleis was staying at the Rouge and I didn't get to see her :(. Besides, we're not allowed to be star struck. We just have to treat stars as normal guests and not ask for autographs or do anything else un-called for. I'm sure I would have behaved myself, but that is like one of my all time favorite songs. When asked about it by my co-workers, I said I made good milkshakes and they thought I was being lewd. So I said I had like a really expensive blender at home. So here's proof, what I made for Raydiance today:

1 banana
1/3 c. crushed ice
1 c. milk
1/3 half and half
chocolate sauce (as much as necessary)
same goes for the kahlua

Summer Writing Goal

I spent the early afternoon listening to some of the CD Roms that will accompany the online course I'm teaching this summer, and in the middle of syllabus building, I realized that I really haven't been writing myself, unless you count blogging and countless edits of the book. Though I have been getting back to sending out some poems. I think I ended up writing a lot with my students this spring...now it's just a matter of typing and editing. I still do everything by hand. It just feels more natural that way. Perhaps b/c that's how I began. I wonder if there will be a whole generation of writers that never has that sensation of writing, scratching out, drawing arrows, and all that jazz on the page. Call me old fashioned. But I'm moving forward. I did figure out how to convert files from word perfect to word and I will be teaching online.

So now that we're into summer (hey, it's June and hot in DC) I'm making a vow to get back to the museums once a week and do some writing. I think it's good every season to check in with yourself and see where you're at and where else you want to be.

Can you really reschedule life?

Life is happening. I woke up this morning and rescheduled the air conditioner repair guy to come on Friday so I can go to yoga today (though my favorite teacher who tells us not to have J-Lo booty is off today and tomorrow). Then I had one of my cousin's fabulous caramel brownies for breakfast (you only live once) which were left over from the great big family dinner on Saturday. Mom was here and all the cousins. It was really wonderful to have so much family over---Mom and I didn't really do all that much, just hung out in Dupont. We managed to get to Larry's twice for ice cream and had fondue at the Melting Pot. You can see why I need to go to yoga so much---all that dessert.

Last night I picked up a shift at the bar b/c the two regulars on Tuesday were ill (One tore his ACL which I kept calling ACLU until Jonathan made a funny joke about that). Also another friend has ulcer problems. We're all so worried and run around, we forget how valuable our health is and how important it is to take care of ourselves and each other. Mom swears by oil of oregano and astralagus. It used to be echinacea. I just wanted the morning/early afternoon to myself since I'll be at Rouge 5 days this week. It all started with Burlesque last night so make sure you check the photos to see what you missed. Last night you missed hanging with the Fudrucker's management team (they'll be in tonight again), and some nice Jewish boys (at least one of which will be back tomorrow). Who knows what will happen today. As I've learned from yoga, you just have to breathe into it and be in the moment.

Oh, it will be Memorable All Right!

http://burlesquepoetryhour.blogspot.com/

Oh Joy

Today in yoga, the instructor told us to curve our pinkies in Utkatasana (you're standing but bending your knees and trying to sit in a chair---it's challenging) and then she told us to turn the corners of our mouths up---reminding us to find joy in that which is challenging. Just a simple smile and it actually felt better...

I'm hoping it won't rain tonight because Jonathan and I are going to Shakespeare in the Park but even if we get a little wet, I'll try that fab yoga move and viola, to be or not to be in the rain eh? (Though we've decided to picnic at Russia House tonight as it has already started thundering so the question is now, will the show even go on).

After yoga I bought some beer, Rolling Rock and Yeungling for Jules. Also found a new recipe for tomorrow's dinner with the cousins.

So we'll have two varieties of chicken with apricots, field greens salad with bleu cheese and pears, and german potato salad.

The Debauchery Has Begun!

As if there wasn't enough debauchery in my life already (who knew a bachlorette party that began with painting pottery would have me hugging the potty later on that night), you definitely want to spend Memorial Day with Gilda and Lolita as the Boys Gone Wild tantilize and tease you. And yes, Lolita will be tending the bar so I'll really be the hostess with the most-est!

from the Bartender Diaries

People will tell you anything. Most times you don't have to ask. I remember people's drinks, not their names. Perhaps that's part of the job. You have to always keep them on their toes, let them know you're the boss. It helps to have boobs too, but really that doesn't matter (of course it does) but as long as you find what makes you sexy and in charge, you'll do alright for yourself. It also helps to be quirky and friendly. Notice friendly, not flirty--it's more genuine. In a matter of three days I got countless business cards, invites upstairs, and inquiries about where to get blow. I think I also fixed a relationship, or at least helped it along, but we bartenders know discretion is important. You are a master of mystery, the ring master of all things sultry, the gatekeeper of the city, and the hand that pours their misery.

Singing Praises to Gilda, Faye, Jesus, and hair color

Yesterday I found the only Farouk Systems salon in the DC area---in Sterling, VA and the hour drive was worth it. What was really interesting is that while they can make your hair any color you chose (i.e. purple, which I didn't do) you listen to the Jesus rock station. Perhaps when my hip preacher friend comes to visit we will sing praises while our hair turns pink.

After that, lunch with Reb---this woman is on fire. Starting her own press---she's got one of the best taste's for poetry and take out. Anyone who she publishes will be taken care of. But that's what happens when you're a sassy gal from the rustbelt. You understand how things should be. Rock on Gilda, sings Lolita playing the bass to your sultry song!

I'm amid reading student portfolios and kvelling---so much progress and these books are so meaningful. I hope I'm half the woman Faye Moskowitz is. Last night at the faculty dinner I realized how lucky I am to know her and to have her as my adopted grandmother here in DC. And how lucky I am to be teaching at GW---where I have the best colleagues, especially Mary Sherman Willis and Tammy Stuart Greenwood. I had so much apprehension about being the youngest person on faculty but they made me realize, we're all just professors who have lives and care about shoes. I know I'm making light of everything, but really, I'm honored to be in their circles. It's not often that we can find people who are so wonderful in the workplace, let alone our lives. So all this week, cheers to everyone...come in and see me at Rouge (Tuesday through Thursday) and I may toast to you too!

Don't Peck or Pee on my Poetry Please

Save the date---Monday, October 16th at 7 p.m.---I'll be reading from the steam sequence at Mac's Backs on Coventry (that's Cleveland, Ohio!!).

Jonathan is emailing the info to himself right now and you should too! That's him in the car working. The rooster wasn't too happy about it--but once I explained to him that lawyers are very busy people, he came around. "What a pisser!" said the rooster. I had to agree.

The Lobster Muses

This is beauty pageant Ramona style: the world's sexiest vegetarian.
http://www.peta2.com/OUTTHERE/o-sexyveg06.asp?c=p2sv92

Been typing up and revising some Ramona poems as this got me thinking more about her.

Today I dropped off more short story drafts and in my mailbox I found a card from a student from last semester. I had written her recommendation letters for an internship at the Holocaust Museum this summer and her study abroad in the fall. She got both!! There's a great quote on the front of the thank you note--"A book is like a garden carried in the pocket." It makes me think that I'm really planting some roots here, city-style though. Also funny because I noticed a single sprout growing out from the bricks on the sidewalk outside my door. How the small things begin to take root.

And speaking of things taking root, make sure to check out the new issue of Beltway Quarterly, poems in response to the Iraqi War: http://washingtonart.com/beltway/contents.html. Hopefully some good has been planted.

Red Hot

Despite my application of sunscreen (SPF 30) twice daily, I am still lobster-esque, just like my red place of employment:

http://theliquidmuse.blogspot.com/2006/05/red-hot-rouge-intimate-red-velvet.html

I'll post pictures from Key Largo when I cool off a bit :)

Last Night's Surreal Dinner Party

Somehow last night I ended up at dinner with Charles Simic and the Serbian Ambassador, though not at their table. But Simic did come over and tell us about his famous cat that is the subject of his children's books, but they're not available in English b/c the illustrations of the wife don't fit the American standard of what an illustrated wife should look like. My wonderful office mate was really the one responsible for this fabulous night as she's on the board for the Folger(where I was tongue tied and in awe), though she did make me tell Simic about Burlesque Poetry Hour and how poets take it off...he didn't seem too keen on making an appearance, but he did raise his eyebrows :).

MSW (my office mate) is one of the most gracious and wonderful people here in DC, and no, not saying that b/c she let me tag along. She's just a good welcoming soul who can talk to anyone about anything and I really admire that. In a way, she reminds me of Maj...

I also got to meet another woman who submitted poems to the Deep Cleveland anthology and it turns out she's from Cleveland. Yes, someone to cheer on the Indians and Browns with! We got to play the way back game to being 16 and hanging out at Coffee and Creations and Arabica (freeka, geeka, and sheeka).

It was one of those nights that I normally term NY nights b/c of how far you seem to drift from where you began. I thought I was going to a reading and then going back home...then DC decided to be surreal. Perhaps it has something to do with the Dada exhibit at the National Gallery, which reminds me I have to check that out soon.

And if it couldn't get any weirder, I come home to find and email from a music student in California who has set my poem "The Story" to music...

Prom and Poetry Update

Our bathtub was amazing, on the 23rd floor looking out at Manhattan, thinking about the night on the town...we were at the Kimberly Hotel which is quite near the Buttercup Bakery...mmm, cupcakes in bed for breakfast!
Do we look old enough to be at the Prom?
the DRESS!!!!
another shot of the dress...hmm, i have more shots of the dress than jonathan...what does that say about our relationship???


POETRY

Today I just found out that one of my poems will be in the Outside Voices Anthology which comes out in 2008 I think. It's huge, like 475 poets. I'm always fascinated by how many people are writing and doing new things (so to speak) and how these communities of ours form. How much of it is by the so called evil networking, which I like to refer to as finding new friends, you know, like discovering new restaurants or something. I often wonder what brings us together. Obviously now the internet and wow, look what technology has done for the literary community. In general I think the internet is a great tool for literacy. So here's the site: http://poetry2008.blogspot.com/

Come, be my book fellow. But wow, look at what we are all doing. All of these dreams of doing meaningful things. That's how I feel about my anthology, (still deep in permissions) but planting the seeds and waiting for that thing to bloom.

The King and Queen of the Prom!!!

The royal blog of text will follow later on this week...

The Latest Burlesque Hype

Last Monday's Burlesque can be viewed here.

And check out May's issue of The Washingtonian. Turn to page 82 and you'll find a very pretty photo of Gina Myers reading at last month's Burlesque.

It was worth it

to wait in line for free Ben and Jerry's today. They have a new banana flavor. I'm surprised Ramona hasn't gone for ice cream yet. I really need to get back to her and back to the museum sequence. Over the weekend I went to the Hokusai exhibit and feel a poem coming on about a woman thrown in a well for breaking a favorite dish.

Spent the rest of the afternoon outside in the Circle reading my student's fiction. Reb sent me some job postings at the NEA but I like being able to play outside. Such is the life of a bartender. You really feel like you are getting away with something not working during the day. And yes, this is totally worth it. I feel like a kid sometimes and speaking of that, the big news is one of my friends is pregnant (with her second child). Wow, it seems like only yesterday we were running around the flats in tank tops in the winter and dancing up a storm. And I see my students and think am I really that much older? And I think of Suzy beginning her family and think of how far we've journeyed from there, though getting back together for Annie's bachlorette party will no doubt bring us around to the circle again reminding us that girls are girls no matter what loops they chose to follow. And I know that no matter which paths we take, we will circle round with each other.

On a Rainy Day looking for a cheap bathtub

A rainy Saturday morning has me inside. I'm still thinking about the aesthetics of the book. Not sure if I really want a Bonnard painting on the front or a photograph or just a blank cover. I'd publish it here but all the permissions and whatnot have got me scared of the red tape, but you can google Bonnard and bathtub and get an idea of what I'm considering. So I'm online looking for other possibilities as permissions are expensive. At any rate, the announcement is up so check it out: http://www.wwph.org/news.html#winners

I find it funny that as I'm struggling with this whole idea of presentation, I have assigned that to my students---to publish so to speak their final portfolio and make something. I think these decisions are important and now I really know as I'm going through this. However, I am lucky in the fact that I get to be a part of this process---many authors don't, so I know I should count my blessings even if they complicate things.

This week's Buzz

I can't really say that much has been going on, except that spring is here. I know that because people are out on the streets now and outside and not at the Rouge. The other day I watched the large bees (I forget what they're called) hover into the roof of the yoga studio. I really like the image of hovering and burrowing. Not sure how I will use it but something felt really good about it, like it was soft, like the bees. I wanted to see them closer. I don't think they sting.

My fancy knives came from Crate and Barrel and tonight I'll use them as I cook my haricot verts for Jonathan. We've been mispronoucing that all week. Leave it to Whole Foods to provoke a week long entertainment. They also have apricot ginger creamcheese which has now yuppified me. Yep, Ramona's got the fancy pants!

Also check out Burlesque on Monday and get your buzz on with these queen bees of poetry: Anna Ziegler, Amy King, and Lauren Bender. Click here for more information.

Connecting to Buddha

I'm currently connected to Buddha, which is what I named my Wireless Network. Yes, I'm serious. I think it will really be the only way that I will actually connect with Buddha on a daily basis. I'm also thinking about a cat, and I'm thinking of naming it something like Moshe, or after some poet that strikes me. Though cat won't come until I do more home stuff for me, like painting and hanging things as cats would complicate all of that.

Jonathan brought me flowers during my office hours and one of my students came by to chat about writing and life. Office hours were finally more than me just grading and surfing the net. I wore these really uncomfortable shoes and had to take a cab home which sucked b/c I walked to work in the rain and then rode home when it was sunny. Alas, I changed into better shoes and walked over to the J for the reading of Passover poems. This is the new breezy me, I realized my limitations and accepted my body for what it was and then figured out how to accomodate the posture. Yoga speak is good speak.

Though I teach with Jane Shore and Faye Moskowitz, I never really got to hear either one of them read and it made me appreciate both of them even more. Such tenderness and humor (I'm talking about their work as well as them as individuals. I loved Faye's story about eating Milky Ways on Passover and Jane's "Shit Soup" poem. And then Carolivia Herron and Josh Weiner---two writers living so close to me that I never read. It was a reading with such grace and spirit, reminded me of Wick readings in a way, when the people are as good as the work and the work is as good as the people and everyone is there for the right reasons.

And then my friend Sandra came and told me that someone very wonderful got the Pulitzer. And that reaffirmed everything for some reason and I felt good and I think she felt good and then she left and I took a bath and now I'm connecting to Buddha so I can write this stream of blog, when I have so much to say and none of it comes out exactly right. Perhaps that is the Buddha, just letting me ramble, trusting that it is good or that there is goodness. And my friend Anna is going to read for us in Burlesque and Harriet emailed me about the anthology that we had talked about over the summer in Philly (yes, a new project) and I'm realizing that there are so many connections that I'm making but not like networking in the evil sense when it's out for self promotion but when you really want to connect because you realize it's the connection that matters, not the outcome. Nameste to you and your wireless.

In My Shoes

Not having my internet at home has at first been causing much anguish but has also removed some stress and compulsive behavior on my part. Now I can't check email like 20 bazillion times and google myself and look for hot shoes online, or rather pictures of hot shoes that I bought so you all who don't live close by can get a glimpse of my tootsies, or rather what's on my tootsies. (By the way, today I'm wearing the new Mary Jane red Campers). I'm walking in the shoes of a girl no longer chained to incoming messages and enjoying the freedom from technology, It's funny, these advances, meant to enrich our lives also come with a cost--it's hard to imagine dealing without these things. Cell phones, email. Think about all the people who walk around on their phones all the time, think of all the things they miss while walking. I wonder if technology makes us more self absorbed? I like the way this fits, though email comes next tuesday--or perhaps, I'm still battling the evil Verizon monopoly and their bureaucracy but that's another rant, neither worth my time or yours. I'll leave that battle to my corporate lawyer boyfriend. He can fight the good fight for fair use of pole attachments and anti-corporate mergers and free cable lines and whatnot.

In class we're talking about perspectives, how something changes from first to third person, what details filter in and who gets to be the one with the voice in our stories. So often we only focus on our own and our needs. So I'm going to more yoga and trying to see the greater schema of life, and of not focusing on the smaller things like Verizon and my shoes (the latter being much more challenging). We're also talking about setting and how the places we encounter change us.
From a simple car or metro ride to a trip abroad, to room in our homes, or the local cafe all become part of our world, how our surroundings are a tapestry and if we pay attention to the things these places and these moments tell us, we begin to understand things that are universal, that transcend our locality, essentially what it means to be human. Sans email, sans cell phone. Try it and see what is there, the things you miss when you remove the protective guise of technology and become more in tune with what is.

Home Sweet Home

So, I just moved into my new apartment--has a washer/dryer and is more than one room! Tonight my good friend Janeil is coming over so I get to test my new oven out. The chicken is marinating in my new fridge and yesterday I stocked up on groceries so I get get back to feeding Ramona properly. I don't have internet hooked up so I apologize for my irregularity. Tonight's menu includes:

Rosemary balsamic chicken
bruchetta with heirloom tomatoes
salad of field greens

I'm so sick of pizza and eating out. The apartment is scented with fresh basil and hyacinth that Ramona stole from Whole Foods. We're still bad asses!

Last Night's Burlesque

For those of you not there, here's a peep show:

http://burlesquepoetryhour.blogspot.com/2006/03/dustin-shafer-henry-and-gina-take-it.html

Packing (also Unpacking)

I'm in the middle of these things, of unearthing these reminders of myself. The places I've been, the people who mattered to me then and now, old letters, old photographs, the treasures and the junk. Of sorting through what to take with me and what to throw out, what stays in the archive and what will be lost or what has already been lost.

Right now I'm listening to Kasey Chambers. I think Jillian was the one who got me into her. It was over a trip to Lancaster County visiting her family. I found those pictures too. "If I'm not here in the morning...I'll learn to live in a new town, but my heart is staying here..." a random lyric. This morning one of my former students emailed me---she was only in my class for a few weeks before getting sick and having to head back home--she's reading the class books and writing. I found Maj's letter, the one that says: "I don't know much about the big city. I decided long ago that I would stay in one place and make a garden, nothing big, no ambitions for expansion. I would come to know that ground as intimately as I could, never think of it as mine and serve the work." I think of all the moving and cultivating. All the gardens we tend and then pass on to the next gardeners. I like the idea of working and leaving. John is leaving me one of his plants that won't make the move with him. My new place has places to hang hanging plants outside my door. I'm really excited about that. The more I think about it, the more I like adjuncting and bartending. It's really good for now and maybe it will be enough for a while. All I can do is what I can do. We all can.

Last night Jonathan said something that made me think: humans are not meant for the state of the world as it is---how life is full of frenzy that it hasn't been before---with all the work and technology. The emphasis on the now. He's been spending a lot of time in the office and wondering the worth of that kind of life, of 12 hour work days. I don't know. Maybe it's always been this way, maybe all "modern" societies seem too modern and we all think of the past as utopia. I think back to Maj, that simple philosophy of not being overly ambitious, of tending a small plot and planting roots that are strong enough for others to carry the seeds of your labor and replant them in their far away soil. Maj closed his letter saying Shine Shine Carly. The afternoon light comes quietly through my blinds. It is glorious.

Now you get to smile pretty for the camera

For those of you attending Burlesque on Monday -- wear something pretty. A photographer from The Washingtonian will be there taking pictures for an upcoming article on the DC literary scene.

The Real P

I’m still not 100% happy with the pictures. Luckily I have an artist friend who has some free time to drive down from Youngstown and take some photos. Last night at dinner I got some great advice from fellow poets. It’s your book, you have to be happy with it. Don’t feel like you have to do anything any way but yours. The popular photo is the last one, but I’m not thrilled with it. I think I can do better. And since I will probably have a lot of books around, I want to make sure I’m stunning. As Reb says, you won’t always be hot. Act now. And it will mean more knowing that Billy took the pictures---he’s going to be a famous artist one day and I’ll be able to say I knew him when we were just kids who talked big in a loft that no longer exists in Youngstown.

Last night we (see the No Tell in Church post) all read sexy poems in church and said words that don’t usually get said in church. My word was pussy. And I know people are cringing now, just that I said it, wrote it, and used it in a poem. My mom said that wasn’t one of her favorites. My father would say it’s not what a professional poet would do. And while I agree most of the time that one should use tact and think of her reputation, I think about what would happen if we stopped writing what was real to us and if we always thought of the censor before the writing. What I learned from a panel of erotic and sexual writing at AWP was that sex is real and it should be talked about and written about. No, I’m not going to start writing sex poems or sex scenes and certainly not here---I am a nice Jewish girl after all, though one who feels comfortable saying the p word every once in a while. Though not too much. Notice the P and not the word here J. Some of my favorite lines from my students’ work are peppered with these words: when making love turns to fucking, I ask (blank) if she’s been S-L-U-Tin’ it up, (blank) drinks a 40 and (blank) writes a poem. It’s empowering to be able to say these things and it makes writing (and life) real.

After the reading, I was too hot and bothered to do work so I watched a whole bunch of #1 Single starring Lisa Loeb who everyone says I look like: she still rocks pigtails at 37 and so I know I can still get away with it. Today I’m going to wear them to yoga and the orthodontist. And I’m not going to care how old people think I am or if I’m acting my age. Today I’m keepin’ it real.

Why is This Night Different than Tuesday Night?

Virtual Haggadah: Poetry Workshop
Wednesday, March 22, 7:30-9:00 pm
$10, $7 Discounted Member Price
Instructor: Carly Sachs

Let the work of the artists exhibited in the Gallery spark your own creative writing! In a guided workshop, respond to the art in your own words. There will be an opportunity to share your poem at a reading in April (see below).

Carly Sachs is a creative writing professor at George Washington University.

Virtual Haggadah: Poetry Reading with Josh Weiner, Jane Shore, and Faye Moskowitz
Monday, April 17, 6:30 pm FREE
Hear original poetry based upon the artwork of the “Different Nights” exhibit echoing through the Gallery. Enjoy wine and cheese before the Screening Room.

for more info: http://dcjcc.org/arts/literature/

No Tell at Church

Yes, this is 100% Kosher!!!

Tuesday, March 21 at 7:30 p.m.
Grace Church Poetry Coffeehouse, 1041 Wisconsin Avenue, NW,
Washington, DC

Readers include:

Kim Roberts is the author of a book of poems, The Wishbone Galaxy, and editor of Beltway Poetry Quarterly, an on-line journal and resource bank serving the greater Washington DC region (http://washingtonart.com/beltway.html). She has published poems in the US, Brazil, Canada, Ireland, and France, in journals beginning with every letter of the alphabet. She has been a writer in residence at ten artist colonies.

Remica L. Bingham, a native of Phoenix, Arizona, received her Master of Fine Arts degree in Writing and Literature from Bennington College. She has attended the Callaloo Creative Writing Workshops and is a Cave Canem fellow. She recently completed her first book of poetry entitled Conversion. In addition to other journals, her work has been featured in 5 AM, PMS, Crab Orchard Review, Gulf Coast and is forthcoming in Essence. She is the recipient of the 2005 Hughes, Diop, Knight Poetry Award and was nominated for a 2006 Pushcart Prize. She is the Writing Competency Coordinator at Norfolk State University in Norfolk, Virginia.

Maureen Thorson's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Hat, LIT, and Unpleasant Event Schedule. Her chapbook, Novelty Act, is available from Ugly Duckling Presse.

Christy J. Zink is an assistant professor of writing at The George Washington University. Her work has appeared in such publications as American Literary Review, The Gettysburg Review, The Spoon River Poetry Review, and The Washington Post. She has received fellowships from the DC Commission on the Arts and Humanities and the Virginia Center for Creative Arts.

Carly Sachs teaches creative writing at George Washington University. Her first book of poems, the steam sequence will be published by the Washington Writers Publishing House in Fall 2006. With Reb Livingston, she curates the Burlesque Poetry Hour at Bar Rouge in Washington, DC.

Ravi Shankar, founding editor of the international journal of the arts Drunken Boat and poet-in-residence at Central Connecticut State, has published a book of poems, Instrumentality (Cherry Grove), named a finalist for the 2005 Connecticut Book Awards. He has appeared as a commentator on NPR, written poems, reviews and essays for such publications as The Paris Review, Fulcrum and Poets & Writers, and read his work in many places, including the Asia Society and the National Arts Club. Along with Tina Chang and Nathalie Handal, he is currently editing an anthology of contemporary Arab and Asian poetry.

Reb Livingston is the co-editor of No Tell Motel and the anthology The Bedside Guide to No Tell Motel. Her online chapbook, Pterodactyls Soar Again, is forthcoming from the Whole Coconut Chapbook Series. Her poems have recently appeared or will soon in Best American Poetry 2006, Coconut and MiPOesias.

I'm So Vain

Afterall, I was named after Carly Simon...so I was gone for 10 days and all I have are pictures of myself (book jacket photo). One of the reasons is that we took all the vacation pics on Jonathan's camera and that's sans present at the moment. Besides, do you really want to see cacti up close and personal? So friends and family, another plea to help me find the right look for the book:

Bye Bye Blog for 10 Days!!!

It's difficult being gracious. Last night I was able to get things back into perspective. Chris Abani read from his poetry and prose and I was shook---to the core. He read a poem about a jazz singer singing only to you and somehow last night, I kind of felt that, not that he was reading only to me, but he was reading to individuals, not a collective audience. There was an intimacy and a closeness. It was one of those eye opening readings in which you realize or re-realize why you write, why you have chosen this vocation. I seriously urge you all to google him and discover what I can't possibly convey here.

I guess what I mean about gracious is more being contented, of breathing in the moment, and those of you who know me well, know that I am a horrible Buddhist. I try and fail, frustrate and fluster until I gasp. Last night I listened to Jonathan breathe while asleep, my hand across his side. And I fell back asleep to that rhythm--I needed reminded that it is as simple as breath, one foot in front of the other, take in each moment. He is teaching me the joys of imperfection--of crumbs on the table, clothes haphazard on the floor, of not worrying about the unmades and undones. For the first time in a while I wrote a poem using the word I (meaning myself), and a poem in which he made an appearance. And just last week I had told my students that I hadn't written a love poem in a long time. It's far from perfect and probably a bit sappy, but it was necessary.

Today the apartment has been cleaned by my lovely cleaning lady and smells of oranges! I went to the Mustard Seed and came back with some new duds for Austin and Arizona (all gift certificates and selling back my vintage discards)! And now packing and yoga at 5:15! So this will be my last post before vacation. Make sure you check out the pics of the Alimentum reading from a while back. I'm posting the one of me reading b/c I'm quite a humble ham. Ramona likes the flowers in my hair and she's also looking forward to an adventure out west!

Betsey Johnson meets the Pleasure Place

So the same woman who sold me my fancy Betsey Johnson dress also sold me a garter made of candy at the Pleasure Place. Relax, It's for Reb's pajama party at AWP! I mean I have to do better than that tie thing from over the summer. This got me thinking to the duality of the human nature, those sweet contrasts and conflicts, the opposites and unexpecteds. From fancy formal to funky fettish. How do we make sense of these rhythms. Today in class we read Paul Celan's Death Fugue and Alice Fulton's Everyone Knows the World is Ending. I asked my students how we make sense of "black milk" of the human mind, of death, of the Holocaust. How repetition moves us through a narrative. The way when we encounter the same thing, how it has evolved and changed. How do we explain something beyond our comprehension? I'm still grappling with these questions---though I wonder if a mystery is sometimes better left unsolved.

Belated Belly B-Day

This picture is also posted on the Marrakesh site: Marrakesh.us. It's funnier there b/c everyone else has some destination---but us, we're the odd literati :). Also in case you wondered how to spell Raydiance...unless Iyviampe, is another code for something. I'm beginning to worry about this girl. Who now has 3 names I'm aware of. And yes, there were men at my party, but apparently Marrakesh believes only females make literature pleasant...don't you agree?

The Swoon, Morning After...

Do I look like I'm swooning?

I am...Burlesque poetry was a hit last night. Click on the Burlesque link for more pics of hot poets reading hot poems. And hot people listening to hot poets reading hot poems.

Poets Going to the Dogs!!!

Javie says check out www.burlesquepoetryhour.blogspot.com. He won't be there but Gilda and Lolita will!

Sunday School

I can't get the music of Yoshie Fruchter out of my head (www.yoshiefruchter.com). Last night opened for the band with some poems. The whole evening reminded me of college. There was a chuch near campus that had an open mic where my friend Erin played piano and sang, and I read poems, and we all gathered around the candlelight on couches and just listened and felt together. It's not often there are places like this, where we can just slip into our hearts. Jonathan held my hand and my friend Karen was on my left and we whispered memory to each other. How we were in this room, in other rooms, in Deborah's house watching the woodburning stove and the cats spoon (I had written a poem about this, but alas, it is only in Karen's memory) I spent almost the entire night in my journal, so much that someone thought that I was reviewing the event and so this is my review I suppose. I tried to explain that I was writing poetry, but how to say words were birthing words, that the touch and breath of others took root somewhere inside. This is how I used to write. Ravenous and inspired. It felt good to go back to that space, something about the dark, about the flickering of candles, of song.

How words make other words. How going back to the Bible doesn't feel like going back. I think about how modern human emotion is...perhaps why Shakespeare lasts...but this is something else. Something about connections, of bridging the gap between the self and other. How when we try to write/sing in someone else's voice, we come as close as we can to loving the other as self. If only governments could try this, if only the people of South Dakota could. If only, we all could taste each other's song. How many voices would then harmonize. Yoshie sings, "Wake up Jacob..." and I can't help but hope this will open our eyes...

How Could I Not Take This One Home?

How I Spent My President's Day Blog

Went to the gym, got my photos scanned for the book cover and as usual am having trouble making a decision so I’m going to post the images. Visited two coffee shops in the neighborhood (Sirius and Foster Bros.), read some poems and the style section of the Post (J’s helping me become more in tune with the daily news), found a beautiful dress and shoes for J’s Prom (which Suzy argues, I bought the dress b/c of the shoes---damn skippy, and hopefully I’ll be able to find a picture of the shoes so I can show them off). Then made dinner and cupcakes and watched the L word.

A constant, underware and all

The other day J and I watched The Constant Gardener. I ended up in tears, crying for I’m not sure what---for being so far removed from world events, that we were curled up on his couch, safe, for not having done the Peace Corps, for not sticking it out in the Bronx, for not feeling like anything was enough, for feeling and not doing---He said he wouldn’t have been able to do something like that, and I don’t think honestly I would be either. I couldn’t pinpoint my tears or know exactly what it was that was so upsetting.

This morning we watched Olympic Hockey and we’ll go to the mall later---back to our overt American culture. How good we all have it. When I was a teenager, I used to have that how can we sit here and eat in fancy restaurants when people are starving angst. While that youthful idealism hasn’t vanished, I often wonder if anything we do is enough? J always tells me a lowball what I do, that I don’t focus on all the good that I do enough, but rather I focus on what I don’t do or can’t do. Maybe that’s only child syndrome, never feeling like there is enough you can have/do etc. I still haven’t given up my notion that I am really a superhero and that I will single-handedly change the world---albeit one poem or one cocktail at a time. I guess the one thing we can learn is that we should constantly be concerned with the struggle (any struggle) and constantly try to do more good than evil and to constantly try to celebrate those small dents we make, that we really are tipping the scales towards something higher, something more beautiful, a world that is good and pure.

And yes, I will purchase undergarments using my birthday Victoria’s Secret gift card probably made by cheap foreign labor that has probably exploited someone or something, but I will wear them and think of the thoughtfulness of someone who wanted to get something nice for me, someone who wanted me to feel beautiful no matter what. And like I teach my students, there is always a contrast/conflict in anything---beauty, love, truth and good writing lets us see something for all that it is. And it is by opening our eyes to that, that we become more enlightened and aware of the world, as it is, and as we want it to be.

No Bellies Just Yet

In four more days you will actually be able to see photos of the infamous bday bellydancing bash. We filled ours, but no one shook theirs. I got this really cool certificate written in Arabic which I will hang in my office and try to pass it off as a degree in Middle Eastern Literature. Tenure track, here I come!

The new issue of Runes Review came yesterday along with plenty of birthday cards and well wishes. Funny, my horoscope predicted all of that, that people would get in touch and that I would realize how many people's lives I've touched. My students have been writing about the humanity within us all---that universal connectedness we feel to each other. I think poetry is a forum that opens our eyes to opening our hearts and minds to others. One student wrote in one of her poems that Creative Writing was her favorite class. That really makes me smile b/c I've felt off this semester. Perhaps due to the Monday Friday schedule. People are still recovering from their weekends and then by Friday they have already started them. Funny, last week we wrote about time...Nonetheless, I'm impressed at the talent I have and I frequently tell people who ask about my teaching how wonderful my students are. And I'm getting back to that elated feeling of doing something that really matters. Sometimes I question the importance of language--does it resonate for others as much as it does for me and how can/does writing change the world. As I get older, I don't want to lose my optimism. Today one of my students wrote a poem in which one of the images was a child walking on the beach, falling, and getting back up and the sheer joy in that. How simple and exquisite to get so much pleasure from the body--how something simple can keep us entertained. It makes me want to grab an ice cream cone and sit outside before I meet J for our tryst at Indebleu. I've been in this office all day...

except to get a sandwich. I really dig avocados on sandwiches. And I really dig how much everyone did for my birthday. I've felt quite a bit of love lately and I want to thank you all for being there, sending cards, picking out presents, sending love and good wishes. The older you get (ha ha, upper 20's, eat that), the more you realize what really matters. Do something that touches someone else this weekend. Seek meaning in the simple. The sky is lighter, the clouds roll past the windows of Rome hall and for a minute I took it all in before heading back to my office to breathe and to find the language like the last beams of afternoon light, before night falls on this sleepy town.

Count Me In

1. This week is my birthday week. Funny, I don’t feel older or wiser and it doesn’t seem to resonate as much as birthdays used to. Perhaps all this yoga is teaching me not to put too much weight on any one particular thing. Same thing with the book. I’m excited (about both) but it doesn’t seem to be a self consuming thing. Or maybe I have too many things that I’m doing for one thing to matter so much. I guess I have lots of eggs and lots of baskets, and lots of cracked eggs. J only has a slightly cracked nose from couple’s yoga today. Apparently two klutzes doing balancing postures doesn’t go along with the two heads are better than one theory…lucky, he’s learned to let go and not get too preoccupied with holding on to grudges or my feet during handstands. We tumbled quite a bit today together and there is no one I laugh with more. I don’t even mind his computer that seems to be the cause of the invisible typing. I figured out a way to beat the system---type in word and then paste.

2. They’ve been reading a lot of Rumi to us in yoga and I have suggested Rumi to my students. There is something ancient and timeless, something that always makes you feel good when you read Rumi. Almost like prayer, though not as stagnant as the responsive reading in the prayer books---but there are some really good ones and tomorrow at the JCC I’ll be teaching a writing workshop based on Yitro. What I find really interesting about that is the contrasting images---how G-d can be both described as delicate and holding a mountain over people’s heads and threatening to drop it on them if they don’t listen. Talk about manic. Though I suppose we all have our ying and yang. Mine is that I like violent video games---not the shooting ones, but the ones like Mortal Combat where your body is the weapon. Where you can pick someone up and throw them across the room and watch them bleed. Namaste bitch! I guess there are some very base traits we humans have and we need to find a way to let them out.

3. Last night the swingers were back in the bar. Le Rouge est tres chaud et manage a trios eh? Apparently they like the drinks, c’est non? C’est moi? Je ne sais pas…

4. And here is my ISBN number for the book. Like the birthday it doesn’t feel quite real yet. 0-931846-81-1

The Top Secret Post

Well, I feel like I have one of those invisible ink pens or something. But I type in this box and I can't see anything so I guess this will teach me to be a more accurate typist or to be less mindful of common grammar rules. This is the what is according to my new yoga wisdom, that we should be mindful and embrace what is, because life is so uncontrollable and when we try to control that which is beyond our control, we get stressed out. So here I am in the now typing who knows what. This reminds me of Jack Spicer thinking some of his pomes were transmitted to him via outerspace aliens. How do we explain where our inspriations come from? Usually mine are rooted in something physical and tanggible, a painting, or the less so with a moment, a feeling. We jst started workshopping in class and it's wonderful to see people really connect about what they are feeling and thinking and how to explain this mystical craft, sort of like these random letters that I am hitting here. But it all begins someewhere, here where I'm trying to punch out something readable and insightful...to be continued. In blind faith, Carly.

For some reason my typing is invisible and I can't see what I'm writing here...

What I'm Reading

I just started reading Anne Michaels' Fugitive Pieces. MB recommended it to me last week as we were talking about fiction and how narratives can be constructed. And to look at it as a guide to how to work my own novel/short stories. Lately I've been really into structure and form, how to do convey subject matter through form. Perhaps too many philosophy and art classes about the relationship between form and content. I think it's quite important to think about it--I tell that to my students. How does what you're writing about feel like and how does that translate to the page? Michaels uses fragmented prose--non-linear and tangental, mirroring the way the mind moves. Writing that needs to be read and re-read. While reading through poems for the anthology, I've come across many poems that are fragmented and where language is cut and then re-strung together. That's how I would describe my poem in BAP. There are some things that we can't talk about or things where language seems to fail. How do you mirror that in a narrative? Michaels asks us how does a child speak of watching his family being killed by the Nazis. How does that child speak of hiding in the forests? How does that child speak of his memories? I suppose I'm drawn to difficult narratives, ones that challenge us to work with the text, when there is just as much unsaid as said. It's these contrasts and tensions that make writing (and life) the most interesting and rewarding.