Saturday, September 29, 2007


And that's what I want to do: try them. Not out of desperation, but curiosity.

Friday, September 28, 2007

told to.

"You are an extraordinary woman."

pensamientos espanoles

[De un texto sobre Sor Juana]:
"Su pluma fue su arma mas poderosa."

[De la obra de teatro El muerto disimulado]:
Clarindo: "Viene a ser que de una ausencia
quien mas siente el golpe fiero,
quien se queda or quien se va?"

Clarindo: "Pues ausente no vivo con quien quiero,
y dejo de asistir donde queria,
con que es de quien se va el mal mas fiero."

Lisarda: "Te burlas y me das chasco?
No me hables en hermosuras,
sino en coriscos, en rayos,
en fierezas, en rencores,
en pasiones, en enfados,
en pesadumbres, en iras,
en furores, en estragos,
que la colera mi pecho
hizo un incendio en que ardo."

Clarindo: "Si amor tiene de ensenarme,
vamos a estudiar, ingenio,
para dar en la salida
de mi amante desempeno."

Thursday, September 27, 2007


[potty humor]
While walking past Amber's room:
"I just farted. Don't stand up."

While conditioning:
"Kelly, your foot is in my face."
"Oh. I almost just peed on you."

[existential humor]
While on Tumble Track:
Angela: "The thing is, I may go invisible or sign off --"
Alyssa, the team philosopher: "You can go invisible?"
Angela: "I'm talking about AIM, sweetie, not in real life."

Tuesday, September 25, 2007


This month has gone on for too long.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

the juncture

Here I am. Between joy and distress. Between experiments and essays. Between the fantastic and the ordinary. Between reckless and harbor.

In that ages-old battle against the patriarchy, the woman takes up the pen.

the makings of an experiment

This could be your “experiment”:
You ever have that problem where you start writing a poem but by the time you get to line 3 you ask yourself what the fuck are you doing, and why are you writing poetry?

[Is he going to be a nomad?]
[If you don’t want to shack up with him]
[I knew that’s what you were gonna say]

I mean that is a truly profound idea.

[Am I following?]
[Not quite]

You don’t even know what a sordid sad tale that is

[Maybe four glasses of wine
on a Tuesday night
wasn’t a good isea.
Idea. Wednesday.

Well, I actually have to know them.
Well, take that idiotic shit out and I still would have known what you meant.

Friday, September 21, 2007

"You know what I'm going to do tomorrow? I'm going to look at my notes about these poems. 'Rhyme.' Great." My book's open on the counter and so's my foot.

"Mmm." Emeline looks for something to eat.

I begin talking about the Dirty War in Argentina. She nods.

"OOOH!" I point to the text. "Here we go. The role of nature. I got it. Ready? The wind blows this paper to her feet, and it changes her life. That's what I'm going to use!"

Emeline nods, looking very nervous.

"I know, Em," I answer. "You're jealous that you can't be a Spanish major. Follow your calling!"

She backs away.

Oh, Em, I'm glad that you love me unconditionally. :-D

Lazarillo de Tormes...

It occurs to me that you and I might be doing the exact same things right now.

I could find out, but not yet. Not tonight.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

more college living

You become indifferent to the lack of food. You'll figure something out. Bread's acceptable for breakfast and lunch, and pasta provides a luxurious dinner.

And after days of paper towels, you are really, really excited to see a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

"on all fours"

After all of the events of the past several weeks/weekends,
I've concluded that I have no idea what's going to happen.
And I find that I just might be all right with the wait and see.

Monday, September 17, 2007

What I Read At Raquette

For anyone who cares!

I call this creative nonfiction. Because, well, it's true.

5.8/9.9.07 – Still.

My eyes burn. I step outside into cool night air. There is no breeze. The smoke from downstairs is subdued and the laughter calming from drunkenness to tiredness.

I want to smudge my eyes with dark eyeliner and look at you behind masked and falsely thick lashes. It might feel right.

But nothing will happen tonight.

It is a May night and the sun will burn this summer. I will write every day. I will laugh and you won’t laugh with me. People will die. I will dance.

Right now I am doing none of those things.

Right now the wooden seat creaks and I'm too tired to wonder how many people have sat in it before. Probably laughing. Probably drunk. At 11:30 there’s not much to view. Scattered students stumble over sidewalks. A car comes to the corner, slows, passes, silence.

For once in my life I am at the perfect height. Up here on the balcony, I can witness it all without needing to stand on my toes.

Otherwise I type in small windows so I can see what is going on.

There is a light on in your window, I know.

I would not usually be so vague, but there is nothing specific to say. I would like someone to come around the corner and up this shadowy road. I would like them to wave to me. Call my name. Sit up here with me for awhile, in silence.

Because I've done enough work. I would like to be amazed right now. I would like to be engaged, fascinated. To one day do the kind of work that makes me eager to be where I am with who is there. And perhaps we’ll have a conversation worth remembering. Worth thinking about. Worth continuing.

It won’t be right now.

The traffic light flashes red and yellow.

I type in small windows to remind myself of perspective.

It is time to sleep, I tell myself, and go into bed, but not to bed.

I want to walk down the road and around the corner.

Sunday, September 16, 2007

I'm probably going to regret not doing ANY work for the past two hours

For a certain young lady with whom I just conversed with about love and life:

In some way -- most likely a haphazard, unexpected, and wonderful one -- you will get precisely what you deserve, which is the best. :-)

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Stranger than fiction

Gary: "Carmen, are you a citizen yet?"

Carmen: "No. I've applied, though."

Gary: "Well, if you need to marry me to become a citizen, let me know."

Angela: "BWAHAHAHA!!!!!!!"

Monday, September 10, 2007

An update due to popular demand :-)

What I learned while watching The Mission:
Deaf people can't get handcuffed.


Raquette Lake was amazing. Precisely what I needed. I shall post photos soon, although they are not nearly as deep and terrific as what Rachel has posted on Facebook.

Some favorite quotes/moments:
After crashing the international bonfire
Steve: "So where are YOU from?"
Guy: "Rochester, New York."

Steve: "So are you miserable?"
Me: "Depends."
Steve: "Like diapers?"

Andy: "I fuckin' love my mom!"

What Rachel and I heard...that should not be typed.

Pat: "Can you do back flips?"

The tarot card reading. Whoa.

I read a piece that I posted on May 8, for anyone who wishes to delve into the archives. I changed it a bit. Contemporized it, if you will. The feelings hold true. It's not something I'd normally read out loud, and for a larger audience, I'd choose humor instead. But it was right for the time.

"You two are spectacular," Dr. Boynton told me as we kayaked on Raquette Lake at 7 a.m.

Thank goodness the radio worked on the way home!

And that we got voicemails from Dr. Reid.


And that some things will not change.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

(Today is a multi-entry sort of day)

Dear Angie Baby,

Thank you for faithfully reading this blog.

For all SUNY Cortland athletes:

Please refrain from making out with your beloved, whether they are your gender or not, at team functions. Otherwise, you may be subjected to "constant observation."

And to the one and only Denise Wiesner,

Thank you for the spectacular CD you sent to Brittany that includes "Can't Touch This."


La verdad:

"...Aun cuando ama la poesia, el cielo no le dio la gracia de ser poeta."

Awesome word:


Wednesday, September 05, 2007

All I really wanted to do tonight was write.

I find it a bit awkward to do so. It's a bit too much wear my heart on your sleeve with far less answers. At least the bands who sing such lyrics receive cheers.

Even in a house like this, the night ended quickly tonight. I might be the only one left awake, and I'll turn in soon enough.

But I can be here -- myself, my work-in-progress room, my work-in-progress life -- and not be ashamed of the company.

tense change

She noticed later that red stained the gray sweatshirt. The tribulations of hair dye.

The advice came across the cheap Formica table. "You do too much work." Perhaps. "Drink while doing laundry. It's a great time." Hmm. Especially if you don't need to go to college to be a writer.

"Did you dye your hair?" Dunkin Donuts lighting is most certainly unforgiving.

She plays with the still-damp bangs and wonders what else she can begin to get away with.

"Your earrings are like...sorcery."

Well, perhaps not, but she'll work on making her writing such.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

The Nasty Life

Gary: "...So I reacted as I usually do."
Angela and I in unison: "Very calmly and rationally?"

Me: "I'm going to the bathroom. Let me know if he says anything about Mayans."
Moments later:
Amber: "He just said that the plot is thickening. You'd better get out, Diana."

After reading out loud my away message:
Amber: "I am nervous! Estoy nerviosa! ... I think something's wrong with me."

And the people we become, well,
they're never really the people who we are.

Sunday, September 02, 2007

I think it may be time to realize that this is not going to be the way I want it to be.

I like this:

"In my opinion, karma will be a bigger bitch than I'd ever be."