What? The Internet's Not Broken?
A poster I would like, for like, ever.
- I have my very own apartment. Mine, mine, mine! No roomies. No pop pop. All Ama, All the Time. Yeah. Yes. Excellent, indeed.
- My grandmother, who is my hero, who raised me, who was our family's sun, has died. Thank you to each of you who have reached out to me, who know how much my grandmother meant to me, who understand that no matter how old, how long a life, how rich how full--you think your heroes will live forever, and they just don't. No human being does. Reading this book, Awakening from Grief: Finding the Way Back to Joy, has helped.
- I wrote my first short story in more than 10 years, and will be participating in a week-long, 20-person conference hosted by Writing Below Sea Level, with 2 of my favorite writers ever -- Connie May Fowler and Dorothy Allison, along with a litany of other amazing women on faculty. The workshop will be held the first week of June.
- Due to the above statements and all that came with them, in the paraphrased words of my beloved Chan Marshal, that metal heart of mine, I've cracked that motherfucker wide open, with all the rapturous pain and joy of human existence rushing through it at a simultaneous, dizzying rate of speed. But I am letting that energy move. I am standing still, with my heart open wide. And I am not going anywhere.
- I got an iPod for Christmas! Holy mother of Jesus Christ. From walkmens to iPods, ah the world has changed so much!
So, hopefully, a better blogging life will begin soon. Now that I've cracked the wily Internet's code with my stupendous technological genius, you should be hearing much more from me in the future.
I Leave You with These Words from Ms. Dickinson. Apt, is a word to describe how they relate to my inner landscape these days.
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And yesterday, or Centuries before?
A Quartz contentment, like a stone--
This is the hour of Lead--
Remembered, if outlived,
First--Chill--then Stupor--then the Letting Go.