I swear when I booked my flight, I was supposed to leave Richmond at 11am. Maybe I'm going quietly mad, but I would've bet money on it. But my itinerary showed me leaving at 2:52 pm Wednesday.
So, I did call in a favor to get to the airport, but not from my BIL. Asked a friend who has Wednesday's off & she agreed to help me out. And she had enough time to get her hair cut on the way back from the city. ;)
I was early, which meant my flight was delayed. I had distractions, iPhone, books, including an Ethics book I need to read some out of to get CE's to renew my license in 2 states. And we boarded the plane 30 minutes after we were supposed to have taken off, then sat there for another 30-45 minutes while the pilots recalculated the flight plan & asked for more fuel to be loaded onto the plane -- so we wouldn't run out of gas and fall from the sky like a lead paperweight.
We arrived in Cleveland in time for me to receive 5 updates from the airlines telling me I would not be leaving at 5:42pm, but at 10pm. There were flight delays and cancelations all over the boards & disgruntled passengers 10-20 deep at the airline customer service counter the entire time I was at the Cleveland airport.
I ate expensive crap pub food, had another beer (before, I whiled away time in Richmond observing 4 new GI's revel in being off-base), and actually went on-board a mere three hours late. I napped, wrote in my journal & watched the complimentary direct TV for 2 shows.
By the time we arrived at San Fancisco, I was over three hours late and I barely made the last BART train out of the airport.
I arrived at the stop where my Aunt picked my up after 1 am, got to her house after 1:30am and she kept trying to feed me as soon as I got into her house. You can take the girl out of the South, but can't take the South out of the girl.
My S.O. has bad restaurant luck. I have bad traveling luck. Give me flight delays over frozen entrees any day!
I leave my Aunt's house a bit later today to make my way to the hotel I'm sharing a suite with two other poets to keep expenses down. But first, I'm swimming in my Aunt's pool.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Go West, young woman
So, I fly to the west coast tomorrow. I still have to shove my clothes in my bag, confirm my flight, decide how I'm getting to the airport and if I'm gonna call in a favor to get there. Or if I'll leave my car in long-term parking & pay the fee.
But my car needs to be seen by the body-work guys who worked on it last year, to see if they can find the intermittent leak which occurs when it's raining like hell or when I go through the car wash. And it would be nice not to have it looked at while I actually need it to run around in.
Anyway. I'm going to a poetry workshop offered by Diane Frank of Blue Light Press in San Francisco. And I'm visiting an Aunt for two days. I haven't seen her in about 10 years, since the last time she came out to visit her Aunt with my Dad, who was living with her then. I think. Then I'm sharing a hotel room with a view of the Pacific Ocean with two other poets in the workshop from Friday night til Monday. I'm not sure if I'm going back to my Aunt's house or not after that. I may try to extend my trip for a day or two, since I was an idiot and booked a red-eye for myself on the way back Tuesday night. That way I'll be sure to catch up with an acquaintance I know from Greensboro. Since it took me three days to recover from the last red-eye I flew on, last fall, that might be the smart thing to do. Oh, how soon we forget what a pain in the butt red-eyes can be.
I need to run off some more poems, like pretty much all of a chapbook I've been writing on for the last year. It may be book length by the time I'm finished with the series. She said to bring poems of a project we've been working on. And that is a long-term project I have been working on.
I'll keep you updated!
But my car needs to be seen by the body-work guys who worked on it last year, to see if they can find the intermittent leak which occurs when it's raining like hell or when I go through the car wash. And it would be nice not to have it looked at while I actually need it to run around in.
Anyway. I'm going to a poetry workshop offered by Diane Frank of Blue Light Press in San Francisco. And I'm visiting an Aunt for two days. I haven't seen her in about 10 years, since the last time she came out to visit her Aunt with my Dad, who was living with her then. I think. Then I'm sharing a hotel room with a view of the Pacific Ocean with two other poets in the workshop from Friday night til Monday. I'm not sure if I'm going back to my Aunt's house or not after that. I may try to extend my trip for a day or two, since I was an idiot and booked a red-eye for myself on the way back Tuesday night. That way I'll be sure to catch up with an acquaintance I know from Greensboro. Since it took me three days to recover from the last red-eye I flew on, last fall, that might be the smart thing to do. Oh, how soon we forget what a pain in the butt red-eyes can be.
I need to run off some more poems, like pretty much all of a chapbook I've been writing on for the last year. It may be book length by the time I'm finished with the series. She said to bring poems of a project we've been working on. And that is a long-term project I have been working on.
I'll keep you updated!
Thursday, July 12, 2012
I don't plan on
Posting many of my poems on this site, but wanted to share these two in light of last week's events.
I wrote the first poem as a response to Robert Lee Brewer's 2008 Poem a Day Challenge, day 5 prompt: write about something you dread. As Scully had just turned 10, I wrote about dreading "The day".
I carry my grief like a gift,
I wrote the first poem as a response to Robert Lee Brewer's 2008 Poem a Day Challenge, day 5 prompt: write about something you dread. As Scully had just turned 10, I wrote about dreading "The day".
Decade
My ten-year-old Weimaraner,
the one whose leg may be broken,
who sports yet another set of stitches,
I fear the day I will have to hold her
muzzel close as she struggles
for air. I shy from the day I will see
her deep keel still, her eyes haze, her
tail cease to move, her paws lie still.
I avoid the thought of where she
will lay down for the last time, or
where I will spread her ashes, or upon
which mantle I will keep her urn. I look
into her yellow eyes and vow to spend
more time tossing the ball, scratching her
ears, rubbing her near hairless belly. I know
that I will forget that silent promise until the
next medical emergency will remind
me that she was 69 on her last birthday.
For Scully --
June 27, 2012
I carry my grief like a gift,
tucked under my heart.
Encapsulated by my ribs,
absorbed like nutrition
with every heartbeat, the cells
of my body drink grief up.
It sweeps through cell
membranes, into nuclei.
Inserts itself into my DNA,
becomes a permanent feature
in its permanent tomb. My grief, a tiny
reminder of the place you held in my life.
I suck at blogging
I sorta kinda wanna blog & really don't, all at the same time.
I have "blog" down on my weekly "to do" list, but then I push it back behind, say, work which makes me money or running errands or writing to my adoptees* in Afghanistan. I have two, one who has less than two months left in the sand, the other has less than three. One I email almost daily and hope to keep in touch with once he's back stateside, the other is deployed in a remote area and I haven't heard from him yet, if I do at all.
But back to the topic, blogging and sucking at it.
Sigh.
I'm not sure there's much more to say, other than I need to move it higher on my priority list, if I want to do this thing at least half-decently. Or even half-heartedly.
Which means, back to the monthly platform daily to do list Robert urged us to set up in April and continue visiting monthly from then, er, now on. Frelling meevocks, this writing gig is tough.
Later, when I actually have something to say...
* Check out Adopta-Platoon.org
It's a great organization. And for you writers out there, it's an excuse to write a human being who may or may not be able to write you back. It's kinda freeing, in an odd sorta way, just tossing unanswered cards, letters and goodie boxes out into snail mail.
I have "blog" down on my weekly "to do" list, but then I push it back behind, say, work which makes me money or running errands or writing to my adoptees* in Afghanistan. I have two, one who has less than two months left in the sand, the other has less than three. One I email almost daily and hope to keep in touch with once he's back stateside, the other is deployed in a remote area and I haven't heard from him yet, if I do at all.
But back to the topic, blogging and sucking at it.
Sigh.
I'm not sure there's much more to say, other than I need to move it higher on my priority list, if I want to do this thing at least half-decently. Or even half-heartedly.
Which means, back to the monthly platform daily to do list Robert urged us to set up in April and continue visiting monthly from then, er, now on. Frelling meevocks, this writing gig is tough.
Later, when I actually have something to say...
* Check out Adopta-Platoon.org
It's a great organization. And for you writers out there, it's an excuse to write a human being who may or may not be able to write you back. It's kinda freeing, in an odd sorta way, just tossing unanswered cards, letters and goodie boxes out into snail mail.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
A Cat Named Dog: RIP, Scully
A Cat Named Dog: RIP, Scully: I euthanized my 14-year old Weimaraner yesterday. Then went over to a friend's house with the young whippersnapper (10 year old) Duncan an...
RIP, Scully
I euthanized my 14-year old Weimaraner yesterday. Then went over to a
friend's house with the young whippersnapper (10 year old) Duncan and we
held a wake for her, with my S.O. joining us after work.
It was a hard decision I spent 5 days agonizing over. And spent all those days saying goodbye -- taking her to the neighbors field to hunt through the grass for voles and moles, letting her eat the homemade, high protein food I finally made (when I ran out of the dry food over the weekend) for her and Duncan's enjoyment, crying whenever I saw her weeble-wooble down the front porch stairs with increasing frequency as the inoperable fibrosarcoma tumor grew and displaced her organs.
I'll tell y'all the story of how I acquired my grey-ghost, back in 1998, when I lived in Salem, Oregon. I lived with a guy for a little over two years too long. I knew as soon as I moved in with him it was a mistake but it never seemed to be a good time in his life to bring it up, as he was sorta a drama queen.
I knew the relationship was over when I started fantasizing of trading in the boyfriend for a dog, because of the unconditional love a dog would give me. And I knew, going into a relationship with a dog, that I would be paying all his or her bills from the get go and wouldn't be disappointed when he or she didn't come up with their half of the monthly bills.
So at work, I saw a picture of a small grey puppy for sale, a puppy with these huge ears flopping down to her shoulders and fell instantly in love. I bought the dog and then spent a month trying to find a place to live which would let me move in with a soon to be 60 pound pooch.
I never regretted that decision, despite her terrible twos and the shoes, CDs and blankets I lost to a mouthy dog, which was much easier to deal with than a secretive boyfriend who didn't pay his share of the bills.
I'll miss you, Lumpy.
It was a hard decision I spent 5 days agonizing over. And spent all those days saying goodbye -- taking her to the neighbors field to hunt through the grass for voles and moles, letting her eat the homemade, high protein food I finally made (when I ran out of the dry food over the weekend) for her and Duncan's enjoyment, crying whenever I saw her weeble-wooble down the front porch stairs with increasing frequency as the inoperable fibrosarcoma tumor grew and displaced her organs.
I'll tell y'all the story of how I acquired my grey-ghost, back in 1998, when I lived in Salem, Oregon. I lived with a guy for a little over two years too long. I knew as soon as I moved in with him it was a mistake but it never seemed to be a good time in his life to bring it up, as he was sorta a drama queen.
I knew the relationship was over when I started fantasizing of trading in the boyfriend for a dog, because of the unconditional love a dog would give me. And I knew, going into a relationship with a dog, that I would be paying all his or her bills from the get go and wouldn't be disappointed when he or she didn't come up with their half of the monthly bills.
So at work, I saw a picture of a small grey puppy for sale, a puppy with these huge ears flopping down to her shoulders and fell instantly in love. I bought the dog and then spent a month trying to find a place to live which would let me move in with a soon to be 60 pound pooch.
I never regretted that decision, despite her terrible twos and the shoes, CDs and blankets I lost to a mouthy dog, which was much easier to deal with than a secretive boyfriend who didn't pay his share of the bills.
I'll miss you, Lumpy.
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Hmm, I seem to be neglecting myself
It's been a busy three or so weeks. Sorry for the silence on my end. I'm not sure why I keep ignoring my blog. It's not made itself into a bi-or tri-weekly habit yet, I guess.
And I've been juggling a lot of things, primarily traveling this last month: Balticon46 over Memorial Day weekend (more on that to come, I promise!). Then I drove to a karate/grappling seminar in my old dojo in Greensboro, NC (more on that, too!) with an extension to my Mom's house for a quick and dirty, but uneventful, girl's weekend with my sister's and my Mom (also a four day trip -- Thur through Sun). Then my older sister & B-I-L came up the next Thurs so we could go see the Hokusai print exhibit before it left the Sackler Gallery in D.C.. And this weekend, the S.O. and I are in Williamsburg at the annual Virginia Dental Meeting. Four weekends of travel, strange beds &/or guests (sorry Lisa & John, but y'all are strange :)
The Hokusai exhibit is almost indescribable. These are woodcut prints are from the1830s and are frelling beautiful. Especially the ones printed all in blue ink. If it comes to a gallery anywhere near your city, do not hesitate to go, & go more than once if you can. It's definitely worth the price of admission.
The Japanese Mezzotints exhibit is worth a peek, too, especially the lone copper plate showing the etching. It's warm copper tone blew the black and with print away, in my humble opinion. And my sister made sure I saw it. She knows what I tend to be drawn to, as she's seen enough of my photography and stolen, er, appropriated enough of her art/sculpture over the years. (I still want my turn with the Jhierry totems. Where the heck are they, BTW?)
More later, when I'm not getting ready for a dental CEU which prolly won't carry over to my massage therapy credits, not that I need anything but an ethics class to renew this year. August will surprise the heck out of me, so I'd better get to reading that ethics book I borrowed from Kristen.
And I've been juggling a lot of things, primarily traveling this last month: Balticon46 over Memorial Day weekend (more on that to come, I promise!). Then I drove to a karate/grappling seminar in my old dojo in Greensboro, NC (more on that, too!) with an extension to my Mom's house for a quick and dirty, but uneventful, girl's weekend with my sister's and my Mom (also a four day trip -- Thur through Sun). Then my older sister & B-I-L came up the next Thurs so we could go see the Hokusai print exhibit before it left the Sackler Gallery in D.C.. And this weekend, the S.O. and I are in Williamsburg at the annual Virginia Dental Meeting. Four weekends of travel, strange beds &/or guests (sorry Lisa & John, but y'all are strange :)
The Hokusai exhibit is almost indescribable. These are woodcut prints are from the1830s and are frelling beautiful. Especially the ones printed all in blue ink. If it comes to a gallery anywhere near your city, do not hesitate to go, & go more than once if you can. It's definitely worth the price of admission.
The Japanese Mezzotints exhibit is worth a peek, too, especially the lone copper plate showing the etching. It's warm copper tone blew the black and with print away, in my humble opinion. And my sister made sure I saw it. She knows what I tend to be drawn to, as she's seen enough of my photography and stolen, er, appropriated enough of her art/sculpture over the years. (I still want my turn with the Jhierry totems. Where the heck are they, BTW?)
More later, when I'm not getting ready for a dental CEU which prolly won't carry over to my massage therapy credits, not that I need anything but an ethics class to renew this year. August will surprise the heck out of me, so I'd better get to reading that ethics book I borrowed from Kristen.
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