"...O that Shakespeherian Rag--"

Because I've already used parts from my favorite Eliot poem ("The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"), I present just a snippet (lines 121-138) of his masterwork. I mean, it's so involved he included his own footnotes...

Enjoy!

The Wasteland
by T.S. Eliot

'Do
'You know nothing? Do you see nothing? Do you remember
'Nothing?'
I remember
Those are pearls that were his eyes.
'Are you alive, or not? Is there nothing in your head?'
But
O O O O that Shakespeherian Rag—
It's so elegant
So intelligent
'What shall I do now? What shall I do?'
'I shall rush out as I am, and walk the street
'With my hair down, so. What shall we do to-morrow?
'What shall we ever do?'
The hot water at ten.
And if it rains, a closed car at four.
And we shall play a game of chess,
Pressing lidless eyes and waiting for a knock upon the door.

(1888-1965)

(Poetry Month!)
~~J

"Because you are the way you are."

Dorothy Parker wore many hats: Poet. Satirist. Screenwriter. Feminist.

Although familiar with her as "an important woman" I did't read her poetry until recently (when I bought a used copy of her complete works).

(Within the company of others of the Algonquin Round Table)

Her poetry is sarcastic and beautiful. It's strong and classical, but modern at the same time. I decided to share one of her more critical of the opposite sex pieces. But she knew them well, men. So even her criticisms have a certain aspect of truth--which really makes them all the more honest.

Men
by Dorothy Parker

They hail you as their morning star
Because you are the way you are.
If you return the sentiment,
They'll try to make you different;
And once they have you, safe and sound,
They want to change you all around.
Your moods and ways they put a curse on;
They'd make of you another person.
They cannot let you go your gait;
They influence and educate.
They'd alter all that they admired.
They make me sick, they make me tired.

(1893-1967)


(Poetry Month!)
~~J

My Introduction to Poetry.

I discovered poetry as a child through the world of Shel Silverstein. I distinctly remember listening to a recording of Shel and his guitar singing poems from WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS.

(from the cover of the 1974 book)

Not only were the the words silly and fun, the book contained fantastic drawings/sketching that illustrated the action within the poems perfectly.

Boa Constrictor
by Shel Silverstein

Oh, I'm being eaten
By a boa constrictor,
A boa constrictor,
A boa constrictor,
I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor,
And I don't like it--one bit.
Well, what do you know?
It's nibblin' my toe.
Oh, gee,
It's up to my knee.
Oh my,
It's up to my thigh.
Oh, fiddle,
It's up to my middle.
Oh, heck,
It's up to my neck.
Oh, dread,
It's upmmmmmmmmmmffffffffff . .

(Poetry Month!)
~~J

"where would they carry me?"

(Self-Portrait by William Carlos William)

"Summer Song"

by William Carlos William

Wanderer moon

smiling a

faintly ironical smile

at this

brilliant, dew-moistened

summer morning,—

a detached

sleepily indifferent smile,

a wanderer's smile,—

if I should

buy a shirt

your color and

put on a necktie

sky-blue

where would they carry me?

(Poetry Month!)
~~J

"...& all things folded in half"

I must admit I know this writer. Happily I met her this semester when she visited campus for a reading. You could say she is at least a double threat because her CNF (creative nonfiction) is amazing as well.

"Parts of Speech" by Julie Marie Wade

1) Cantaloupe; serendipitous selection; deep green of the vigorous rind

2) Salutation; coming or going, a wave is always the same

3) Curfew: I want you home with me, in bed

4) Helix, Entendre, & all things folded in half

5) Television; if you look hard enough, there’s a mirror inside

6) Circumcision, & other pilferings of the body

7) Polygon, encompassing an indeterminate number of sides

8) Sunrise: conversation piece & practical light

9) Euphemism—the one they forgot—the reason for two chairs at this table
---------------

(Poetry Month!)
~~J

"Dear love, I am that girl."

I actually used parts of this poem for my undergraduate graduation invitations. Seriously. I love it that much.

The Black Art
by Anne Sexton

A woman who writes feels too much,
those trances and portents!
As if cycles and children and islands
weren't enough; as if mourners and gossips
and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars.
A writer is essentially a spy.
Dear love, I am that girl.

A man who writes knows too much,
such spells and fetiches!
As if erections and congresses and products
weren't enough; as if machines and galleons
and wars were never enough.
With used furniture he makes a tree.
A writer is essentially a crook.
Dear love, you are that man.

Never loving ourselves,
hating even our shoes and our hats,
we love each other, precious, precious.
Our hands are light blue and gentle.
Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
But when we marry,
the children leave in disgust.
There is too much food and no one left over
to eat up all the weird abundance.


(Poetry Month!)
--J

Way Ahead of Her Time.

(short lines, slant rhymes, use of the dash...I have two copies of her complete collection--be sure to look for the one that retains HER own use of punctuation, a lot of the reprints use old, incorrect edits of her work)

(listed as poem 917)

Love — is anterior to Life —

Posterior — to Death —

Initial of Creation, and

The Exponent of Earth —

EMILY DICKINSON

(December 10, 1830 – May 15, 1886)

(Poetry Month!)

~~J

"wishing for the present tense--"

Another poem introducted to me by one of those creative, beautiful people I'm surrounded by (Melissa, if you're nasty).

A Noun Sentence
by Mahmoud Darwish
Translated by Fady Joudah

A noun sentence, no verb
to it or in it: to the sea the scent of the bed
after making love ... a salty perfume
or a sour one. A noun sentence: my wounded joy
like the sunset at your strange windows.
My flower green like the phoenix. My heart exceeding
my need, hesitant between two doors:
entry a joke, and exit
a labyrinth. Where is my shadow—my guide amid
the crowdedness on the road to judgment day? And I
as an ancient stone of two dark colors in the city wall,
chestnut and black, a protruding insensitivity
toward my visitors and the interpretation of shadows. Wishing
for the present tense a foothold for walking behind me
or ahead of me, barefoot. Where
is my second road to the staircase of expanse? Where
is futility? Where is the road to the road?
And where are we, the marching on the footpath of the present
tense, where are we? Our talk a predicate
and a subject before the sea, and the elusive foam
of speech the dots on the letters,
wishing for the present tense a foothold.

(Poetry Month!)
~~J

"--the longing that begins, and begins..."

I'm surround by a whole bushel of creative, beautiful people. And one of them made me aware of the following poem last month. Thanks Elizabeth!

"Onset"
by Kim Addonizio

Watching that frenzy of insects above the bush of white flowers,
bush I see everywhere on hill after hill, all I can think of
is how terrifying spring is, in its tireless, mindless replications.
Everywhere emergence: seed case, chrysalis, uterus, endless manufacturing.
And the wrapped stacks of Styrofoam cups in the grocery, lately
I can’t stand them, the shelves of canned beans and soups, freezers
of identical dinners; then the snowflake-diamond-snowflake of the rug
beneath my chair, rows of books turning their backs,
even my two feet, how they mirror each other oppresses me,
the way they fit so perfectly together, how I can nestle one big toe into the other
like little continents that have drifted; my God the unity of everything,
my hands and eyes, yours; doesn’t that frighten you sometimes, remembering
the pleasure of nakedness in fresh sheets, all the lovers there before you,
beside you, crowding you out? And the scouring griefs,
don’t look at them all or they’ll kill you, you can barely encompass your own;
I’m saying I know all about you, whoever you are, it’s spring
and it’s starting again, the longing that begins, and begins, and begins.


(Poetry Month!)
~~J

April is POETRY Month!

GOALS (from the Academy of American Poets):*Highlight the extraordinary legacy and ongoing achievement of American poets*Introduce more Americans to the pleasures of reading poetry Bring poets and poetry to the public in immediate and innovative ways *Make poetry a more important part of the school curriculum*Increase the attention paid to poetry by national and local media *Encourage increased publication, distribution, and sales of poetry books *Increase public and private philanthropic support for poets and poetry

How are YOU celebrating? I'm going to do so by posting snippets from my favorite poems/poets. And I figured it would be best to start with one of American's most "infamous" poems--written by Allen Gingsberg in 1955. Although I consider myself a lover and student of poetry, I didn't fall in love with this one until I saw the recent movie.

From the first part of "Howl"

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
looking for an angry fix,
angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
ery of night,
.....
who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space
through images juxtaposed, and trapped the
archangel of the soul between 2 visual images
and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun
and dash of consciousness together jumping
with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna
Deus
to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human
prose and stand before you speechless and intel-
ligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet con-
fessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm
of thought in his naked and endless head,
the madman bum and angel beat in Time, unknown,
yet putting down here what might be left to say
in time come after death,
and rose reincarnate in the ghostly clothes of jazz in
the goldhorn shadow of the band and blew the
suffering of America's naked mind for love into
an eli eli lamma lamma sabacthani saxophone
cry that shivered the cities down to the last radio
with the absolute heart of the poem of life butchered
out of their own bodies good to eat a thousand
years. (Allen Ginsberg)

So begins April.

~~J

Say It Ain' So:

I found out some horrible news this past week. One of my favorite places in Memphis is closing at the end of January.

My personal history with Bookstar began sometime in the Fall of 1996. I went there to find a book for a class I was taking at the University of Memphis...

I fell in love with the atmosphere, the quirky feel the building possessed....

(hence the not-so great black/white photos taken with my first digital camera)

But the space has a larger history, outside of myself. It used to be the Plaza Theater from 1952 until it closed in September 1989.

The renovation for a Bookstar kept a lot of the relics from the old movie theater, including the ticket booth outside the entrance, which helped to preserve the fun feel:

"Except for the leveled floor, the main room has the shape and feel of a large theater. A movie screen hangs over the magazine racks on one end of the room, and small projection windows overlook the room from the opposite wall." (commercial appeal article)

It's might seem strange to talk about the bathrooms, especially if you've never been to Bookstar...

BUT bathrooms seem to be known by everyone. I've had more than one conversation about them while discussing the sad, sad news.

(I took this photo of the retro lighting with my first digital camera too)

The best "part" is the sitting room attached to the main attraction.

From my best memory, I'd say the carpet is a dark giraffe print and the vinyl seats are a pale pink--I will be visiting a lot during Winter break.

If I could count all the papers I've worked on in the cafe' while looking out the windows onto Poplar Ave,


Or tell you about the poetry I've read in the aisles,

Or the magazines I've purchased (specifically The Oxford American),

Coffee I've drank, books I've ordered, time spent sitting on the floor in front of the craft section (yarn/knitting)...

It would equal a large number. Geez, so sad.

~~J

Capote* on Prozac*

*cupcakes

As my last weekend in Memphis winds down (for now), I found a few hours to spend with a fellow...

workshop survivor?
writer?
MFA-er?

(yes x 3)

Of course, we won't be attending the same graduate writing program...no one can handle us both at the same time...we did successfully survive the application process together (just as the magnum of wine we consumed one night).

Where did we start out? BOOKSTAR -- which is probably my favorite "chain" place to hang. The converted movie theater has the coolest bathrooms in Memphis. No, really. I'm NOT kidding.

After I picked up the latest edition of the Oxford American (best magazine, y'all)...we joined forces (vehicles) and traveled to the best local bake shop...MUDDY'S...

I've been hearing about cupcakes from this bake shop from friends for quite some time. I originally didn't want to go because I knew I'd fall in love and just have another thing to pine for while away at school. I was right--LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!

We waited patiently in a friendly-spiral line....I admired the knick-knacks and decor. When we made it up to the bakery case I said something like, "Don't judge me, I'm about to order half a dozen so I can try six of those suckers!"

prozac (chocolate/milk chocolate) (pictured)
capote (chocolate/vanilla buttercream)
frankly scarlett (red velvet/ cream cheese)
pucker up (lemon/lemon)
citrus explosion (lemon/orange)
new yorker (chocolate/cheesecake)

With our cupcake bounty (he picked up six too), we shimmed over to Whole Foods for appropriately fun beverages to wash them down with (I tried another brand of coconut water).

Pucker and Capote were the first to go...eaten delicately with a fork. I don't know how I managed to go soooooooo slow, but it took several forkfuls to finish just one. I couldn't help the noises though. These aren't HUGE cupcakes, they are perfectly sized!

About five hours later (really, FIVE HOURS) somewhere around midnight, the New Yorker disappeared...whoops! Frankly Scarlett was great from breakfast...(you get the idea).

Alas, back to packing...

~~J

Obscenus!

“I never knew a girl who was ruined by a book."
--James Walker

I watched an interesting documentary via Netflix tonight entitled Obscene (2007).

It follows Barney Rosset of Grove Press, who published several alternative/literary classics in the U.S. when no one else would:

D.H. Lawrence (Lady Chatterley's Lover)
Henry Miller (Tropic of Cancer)
Allen Ginsberg (Howl)
William S. Burroughs (Naked Lunch)

It's a long documentary (as far as documentaries go)--more than an hour and a half in length. Some of it is a bit boring, while other parts are interesting. There is a lot about the Evergreen Review, a literary journal also published by Rosset from 1957-1973...(is now back Online) exciting!

I found out Grove Press is the exclusive U.S. publisher of the unabridged complete works of the Marquis de Sade....I own Justine as well as Lady Chatterley's Lover--but I have only scanned/skimmed through them...I haven't made it cover to cover yet.

Of course, I own four volumes of Anaïs Nin's journals and her Delta of Venus (related because of her famous relationship with Henry Miller).

Five of the authors Rosset had the nerve to publish have even gone on to win the Nobel Prize in Literature!

If none of these titles mean anything to you, here is a selection from the top 100 Banned/Challenged Books last decade (2000-2009) according to the American Library Association:

1 Harry Potter (series), by J.K. Rowling
5 Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
6 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
10 The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky
14 The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain

15 The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison
16 Forever, by Judy Blume
17 The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
19 Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
21 To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee

26 Beloved, by Toni Morrison
28 Bridge To Terabithia, by Katherine Paterson
29 The Face on the Milk Carton, by Caroline B. Cooney
33 Snow Falling on Cedars, by David Guterson
36 Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley

43 Blubber, by Judy Blume
46 Slaughterhouse-Five, by Kurt Vonnegut
49 One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, by Ken Kesey
50 The Kite Runner, by Khaled Hosseini
55 Summer of My German Soldier, by Bette Green

65 The Things They Carried, by Tim O’Brien
67 A Time to Kill, by John Grisham
69 Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury
72 Song of Solomon, by Toni Morrison
74 The Lovely Bones, by Alice Sebold

81 Black Boy, by Richard Wright
87 Tiger Eyes, by Judy Blume
88 The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood
89 Friday Night Lights, by H.G. Bissenger
90 A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeline L’Engle

Do you feel like READING? I feel like writing!

~~J

Walkin' in...

(photo from the USGS website)

One thing that surprises me (or maybe it doesn't) is the response I get from a lot of people when I tell them I will be leaving for graduate school--"leaving" as in "moving away" from Memphis:

"Good for you! You're getting out of this place!"

What? I like Memphis. What?

Granted, I've "only" lived here for...sixteen years...not a lifetime, but I get a bit defensive when people talk down about the city. A few professors discussed this phenomenon during my last semesters as an undergraduate.

One (originally from Canada, who got his Ph.D. from Rutgers) talked about the low cost of living and the great night life. He said that no matter where you went in Memphis, even the smallest "dive" or "hole-in-the-wall" the music was amazing. He said there was no "bad" music here, the "worst" band in Memphis would be the best in any other city.

Another talked about how he couldn't believe the negative comments he heard about the city, because he liked it to (and he's lived all over the place). Our first class meeting, we got in a circle and he point blank asked everyone WHAT they thought about the city and WHY.

I don't get it. I mean, sure--I get it. Murder. Mayhem. Drugs. Violence. Poverty.

But there is plenty to love about the city. I've been reading the ILOVEMEMPHIS blog a lot lately, and I think I am going to visit it several times a day after I move...

Love ya, M!

~~J

To Write:

So I have a new flash piece debuting over at 6S today. It is one of my personal favorites, so I decided to make a "Wordle" out of it to celebrate myself, sing myself (--sorry, Whitman).

Although I keep saying that I'm NOT writing, I guess I AM writing little snatches of stuff. Dialogue. Six sentence flash pieces. Two pages of a story that has just stopped. And I keep writing in my journal and blogging (twice).

I have the ideas floating. I have the time (basically). The energy is helped along with coffee. I feel an urgency in my heart. There seems to be something just below the surface ready to explode on the screen...in the ink...along the outer edges.

I just turned my head (left) and saw this: "HOW TO SURVIVE: Writer's Block, Rejection by Editors, Your Absent Muse, and Yankee Aunts" (Oxford American, issue 66)

I could only wish my muse was absent. My muse is so present that "it" is creeping into every little thing that I write. Maybe this is normal, but it's getting too predictable for me. I don't want to hear, "OH? Another story about so and so?"

Maybe it is a form of Writer's Block that I have? I don't know.

Those editors and Yankee aunts have got to wait for another day.

~~J

Adaptations (2)

Continuing from yesterday (Adaptations 1) I will keep yakking about Film(s)/Book(s)...

Atonement (Ian McEwan) is another one of those thought-provoking films (like the Reader). It was on cable this past weekend and I ended up watching it until Robbie is accused. I could watch the first part of it over and over again (the second half is too heartbreaking). The two versions of the "fountain" scene are inspired--then we have the two versions of "the library" to think about. Wow. I have read sections of the book, but I haven't read it cover to cover yet.

The Hours (Michael Cunningham) I can't begin to tell you how much I love this movie. I saw it in the theatre (I cried). I bought it the moment it came out on DVD (still cried) I had no idea that it was a book before it was a movie (obviously I wasn't thinking about books as much last decade). Kidman, Moore, and Streep are powerhouse actors! I read about 60% of the book last November. Now that I've finished Mrs. Dalloway (Woolf) I think the book will be richer for me.

All The Pretty Horses (Cormac McCarthy) I grabbed the book sometime last summer--but have yet to crack it open. After reading one of his more "graphic" novels for a class, I have come to appreciate McCarthy, but fear his violence. I saw the movie a few months ago, watched it with a classmate who took the aforementioned class with me. I think we both liked it enough.

Evening (Susan Minot) *swoon swoon swoon* Was that enough? I wrote extensively about Evening (the film version) for a class several semesters ago. It is both deep and charming. Similar to The Hours in the emotional effect it has had on me. Even though I have read several short stories by Minot, I have yet to get started on the book. I have a feeling I'm never going to catch up with my reading (not a complaint).

Le Divorce (Diane Johnson) Even though I seem to be the only person in my circle of friends who actually liked this movie--I am going to continue to sing it's praises. I saw it in the theatre--it's both quirky and "realistic" as any Kate Hudson in Paris movie can be--well, even more so, which may be why it didn't do well. I just got the book...

Bridget Jones's Diary (Helen Fielding) has been semi-credited with bringing the genre of "chick lit" to the front of the bookstore shelves. Of course I saw the movie. Who hasn't seen the movie? (If you're male, your vote may not count on this one). I even saw the "second" movie for goodness sake. I've read snippets of the book; they are actually in diary format so it's quite easy to follow along (and was pretty innovative when it first came out).

And therein finishes my twelve book/film or film/book writing exercise (which took a whole hell of a lot longer than I thought it would).

*APPLAUSE SIGN*

~~J

Adaptations (1)

Another trip to the bookstore (they usually run about $1 a piece) made me realize the amount of books I own which have also been made into films.

"Modern" books, let me rephrase this--because how many film versions are there of anything Shakespeare or Austen? Exactly. You could also include Little Women, Gone With the Wind, The Great Gatsby, Of Mine and Men, To Kill a Mockingbird in the realm of "classics" I own which have also been made into film.

And In Cold Blood was turned into Capote (recently read)...and then I have a few short stories which... OKAY...we're only talking about the twelve SIX pictured above!

Now here's a secret: I think I say 100% of the time that I read the BOOK first before seeing the FILM version. NOT TRUE! I only read TWO of the above books before the film came out.

Animal Husbandry (Laura Zigman) was turned into Someone Like You in 2001. I had read the book and had no idea about a movie until I saw a preview and screamed, "HEY! They stole that from the book I read a while ago!" Yeah, I was that passionate about it.

The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold) was read several years before the (very) recent film. I even loaned it to someone so she could read it before the movie came out. I liked the book better, although I appreciated the film as well.

---------------------------------------

I learned via a somewhat terse conversation in a Film class that movies and books are to be seen as separate from one another. This is a hard concept. Readers don't want to see their imagined worlds "ruined" on the big screen. We're a very specific bunch. I've learned to handle/watch the film version with a grain of salt (so to speak).

---------------------------------------

(Films before Book for the remaining run down)

Little Children (Tom Perrotta) is one of my favorite films as well as one of my favorite "modern" books. It is a guilty little pleasure for me (personal reasons) and even though the laundry room/basement scene in the movie is beyond amazing (hot hot hot), the chapter entitled "Reasons it Might Be True" is just as gripping.

What Was She Thinking? (Zoë Heller) was turned into Notes On a Scandal (2006). I was highly "into" the film, but have yet to read the book. It is one of the $1 finds of the day. The ephebophilic relationship is a commonly written about subject. I learned a new word today--click on the link and you will as well. (Edit: I'm 50 pages into it now)

Girl With A Pearl Earring (Tracy Chevalier) is a historical novel written/based on a painting by Vermeer. I have seen the film and I have studied Vermeer (officially, for a class) and so I felt it was time to grab the book. Again, it was hiding in a $1 box; glad I went shuffling through it.

The Reader (Bernhard Schlink) was one of those thought provoking films. It really had me. I bought the book in hopes of digesting it. It still hasn't happened. It was translated from German. As someone who has a deep understanding of the language, I can't stand reading the translation. I need the original (in German) I think. This is the same reason I can't read Kafka.

(six more to come tomorrow)

~~J

Follow Me into the Dark!

(toothpastefordinner)

...waiting for the hint of the spark...

It is only February 4, but I am full-speed ahead on my "freaking out, whilst waiting to hear about graduate school" plan. I thought this intense state of panic could be saved until mid-March.

Wrong.

Last night I spent a fair amount of time creeping (lurking) through the numerous MFA blogs out there. I was comparing "school lists" and looking to see if anyone out there has heard from their school yet.

I saw statistics that I'm glad I didn't see until NOW:

4 programs are harder to get into than Harvard Medical (3.21%)...

2 of them are harder than "regular" Harvard (undergrad 6.04%)...
1 is harder than Harvard Business (12%)...

(which leaves another three programs I applied to which are not on the list)

No one ever said I wasn't a brave (crazy) soul.

Then it was time to lurk/creep through an entire list of programs and when the first acceptance letters/emails/phone calls went out over the last three years...

So now I have my very own chart of dates to anticipate and mourn as they go by (list is in alphabetical order, but I only included numerical order to protect my future home just a little bit longer):

1)2.14.06/2.24.07/3.5.07/1.19.08/2.17.08/1.21.09/1.21.09
this year? a poetry applicant heard 8 days ago....

2) 2.7.06/3.13.07/2.27.08/3.14.08/3.12.09/3.20.09
this year? no word

3) 2.27.06/3.5.07/3.6.07/2.24.08/2.29.08/2.17.09/3.10.09
this year? nope

4) 2.3.06/2.20.07/2.24.07/1.26.08/2.6.08/2.14.08/2.3.09/2.10.09
this year? not yet

5) 2.21.07/2.29.08/2.28.09/3.4.09/3.6.09
this year? nada

6) 3.17.06/3.10.07/3.12.07/3.17.08/3.11.09/3.13.09
this year? nothing

7) 3.1.06/2.21.07/2.8.08/2.8.08/1.23.09/1.30.09/3.17.09
this year? nope

8) 3.10.07/2.29.08/2.29.08/2.6.09
this year? nada

9) 3.27.06/3.12.07/3.13.07/3.10.08/3.18.08/3.30.09/4.1.09
this year? nothing

10) 3.2.06/2.26.07/3.2.07/2.15.08/2.16.08/2.19.09/2.19.09
this year? not yet

(these numbers came from HERE--see the links on the right side of the page)

So statistically speaking (again) who would I hear from first? #1 (if they are already in the process of accepting)...#4 seems liking too. See? I'm mad.

At least I know I'm not alone in the hell of waiting, but I shouldn't be left alone with Internet access for too long, because you see what kind of mess I get into....PORN? Ha! I wish it was something typical.

Thank goodness the Winter Olympics are starting soon (distractions, distractions).

~~J

Yup: I Did It!!

THERE WAS:
--"behind the scenes" business of forming a line, underground at the FedEx Forum

--listening to nervous conversations about grades, finals, and wearing the wrong shoes


--seeing classmates, celebratory hugs
--thumbing through programs to see if our names were there
--fixing mortarboards w/ extra bobby pins
--keen recognition of the clock...it's ten o'clock, it's ten o'clock on the dot

Which brought about:

--Pomp and Circumstance
--trying to find loved ones in the throngs of people
--Anthems and speeches
--collectively moving our tassels from left to right
--doctoral hooding(s) & collectively getting upset if it was crooked
--hoping no one tripped across the stage
--listening for mispronunciations (and chiding the pronouncer)
--waving at classmates as they strolled by
or
--hooting as they walked across the stage





Suddenly--









*I was strutting across the stage,
*shaking Dr. Raines' hand,
*getting my empty diploma cover,
*having another photo taken,
*wandering back to my assigned seat...REALIZING it all went by WAY TOO FAST!


Before we knew it, we were singing the Alma Mater, squealing or throwing our caps. We were waving like rock stars or drifting around in a daze.

Congratulatory remarks were flying around our heads. We were a big group of the same energy--in elevators, discarding our gowns. Passing people in small corridors...smiling and relaxed.

I took more photos (but really, I didn't take nearly enough)...there were yummy sandwiches from Fino's...and the world's greatest NAP before checking grades AGAIN (still waiting on one)...

Then a tableful of friends, food, and drink....THEN GIFTAGE!? I have the most thoughtful group who spoil me something rotten (all inclusive list):

a lapdesk? YES!
alcohol? YES! (coffee & vodka! wine!)
pens? YES!
intial mug? YES!
Starbucks cards and B&N cards...
"Word Lover's Dictionary" (be still my beating heart!)
Yummy chocolate!
a pilfered glass goblet (how did that end up in there?)
another book of...WORDS!
$$$

The love and support is enough, surely it is enough! :D

~~J

UPDATE (as it happens): Dean't List!

Who's Got the Wheel?

I really don't know either!

(square america)

Today is the day after the day I took the GRE.

Notice that my body isn't floating downstream (sorry, I've been watching/reading The Hours). But I did have a conversation about what river would be the "best" to dive into--Mississippi? Potomac? Hudson?

With that thing out of the way, you'd think I'd be jumpin' for joy (or another trite phrase), but I'm not. I'm still trying to figure out HOW I nearly ran out of time on the Verbal section. It's quite galling, to tell you the truth.

Why did I get THREE ridiculous reading comp passages? (One was related to a class I am taking, which means I probably answered questions the way I would answer questions, not the author of the passage)

Then came the over-thinking & the FLASHING clock in the corner. Yes, it flashes at you when you're about to commit a whammy.

I honestly thought about NOT getting my scores--which is something you can opt to do, by the way. You can say--NO SCORES! And nothing is reported, but you have to spend $$$ and reschedule.

But after I got my scores--thirty points under what I was shooting for...ARRGGHH! Again, my body isn't floating downstream.

I was stuffed with mezzaluna pasta last night instead. Crescent-shaped ravioli filled with four Italian cheeses. And I get to have the leftovers for lunch today! YUM!

I won't look at the calendar, but I know I don't have THAT much time left before the semester ends--my undergraduate career ends. I'm hangin' on for dear life, but someone's got their foot on the gas petal...

~~J