Good vibrations

Well, I thought I'd have the "it's the first day of college classes and I'm not there" blues. But today has been a pretty stellar day. Finished Maddie's "Explosive" routine, great publishing, "legit options," and SBS fights its way back!

I should call it now, but I'm going to write a touch. Gotta put in the work.

Wishful Pinking

These are my concerns:

1. What to do with this potential.
(Answer: tenacity.)

and

2. How do I make it on my own if it comes to that?
(Answer: Still pending.)

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In the midst of my anxieties, I need to celebrate. To be in IG has been a huge dream of mine since, oh, '97. And now it's happened.

I've arrived.

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As of today, I've divided my life into four quadrants: professional, physical, writerly, soulful. Sure, there are crossovers (pro-writerly-soul). But my goal is to fill each one each day. Stay balanced.

Waldbaum's, 12:20 a.m.

Picked up the magazine and read this: http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2010/09/cemetery-ride/8190/

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I need a lesson in carpe diem, put into practice by all semblances of self.

Just the right shade of gray

-Put together a piece that will be in an online gymnastics magazine next week
-Received a job heads-up that I jumped on immediately
-Finished One Hundred Years of Solitude and am now onto Olive Kitteridge
-Will possibly stalk Caralyn and Jessica tonight
-Still feel motivated to run!

Literary Smackdowns

Two articles worth sharing.

The first, reposted from the NewPages Blog: The Guide: AWP's 2011 Ranking of MFA Programs. As someone who was deadset on going Ivy League/equally expensive for undergrad because that was what I *should* do, I think this piece is spot-on. The choice is all about soul.

And the second, stalked from Miss Wolff's post on K-Bahlin's wall: Confessions of a Journal Editor. Heck, PhD program websites are bombarded with jargon. How's a layman even to apply? Break down the obfuscation!

59:27

was when I crossed the line. In the rain, after five hours of sleep.

Then I almost threw up, as per usual, and my legs aren't feeling too fine right now.

Overall? It was awesome.

Somehow you'll know, you'll know even then

At the end of each day I ask myself what I've done to move myself forward, advance my career, circle closer to where I want to be. It's a bit tricky when you see yourself as all sorts of people doing everything.

But just to be safe, I'll write a page before I sleep.

Strangers Like Me (11985)

An explanation for my life and possibly yours:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/08/22/magazine/22Adulthood-t.html?_r=1&src=me&ref=homepage

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I love unexpected phone calls from groups of good people. :-)

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Have you ever bowled with the aid of a plastic dinosaur?

Seeking Samsung

About a month and a half after my declaration against modern cell phone technology, my phone passed away. My new phone has a touch screen and a keyboard. It's still pink. To boot, my mom just purchased the same phone (in more adult red). This is mayhem. This is 2010 at its finest. Oh, and I still refuse a data plan. The Glee app can wait.

Musings

Today I'm not so good at sticking by my decisions.

"I know him. Nick Lachey."

Dear Francesca,

Your tomatoes are adorable.

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So far, I love Cien anos de soledad. I'm reading an English translation. But I've listened to more Sabor Latino! lately. It balances.

Fine literature justifies my other life choices, like certain movies.

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I'm not sure I'll spring for this job, but it's good to feel wanted! Yay, MFA!

11895

I've coined a life motto:

Make pancakes, not war.

Dance, dance like it's the last, last night of your life, life

I appreciate songs that correlate carpe diem with dance floors.

oh em gee

A niche for the nov?

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/2568901/what_is_new_adult_literature.html?cat=38

For the man who waves his hand and asks, "What's your process?"

I say,

Some days I get myself to the page by reminding myself that I can always erase it. Just write something. Just put it down.

A weekend for the booty shorts

It's true.

They took themselves out in the evening, both in purple dress form and velvet Spandex. They ran from high tide spilling down the sand at Pike's Beach. They danced in clubs that look like houses and under helmets like cyclists. They sat in soft puddles on sailboats, looking up at stars.

There will be many days for loneliness but this weekend wasn't one.

Speaking words of wisdom

Stephanie Wade is my hero. Every time I see a dead end, she points me the other way.

Watch out, PhD admissions crews!

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I've got violins in my head and that's all right. Libertango forth.

bookishness

I've cranked through the following this summer. Normally my reading speed is rapid, but this thing called the Conference threw it off. No matter.

White Oleander by Janet Finch
Paint it Black " "
Naked by David Sedaris
Crime and Punishment (finally) by Fyodor Dostoevsky
Notes from Underground " "
Sag Harbor by Colson Whitehead (Flo is proud)
En route: One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Keep it real, rock stars.

Airplanes in the night sky

In honor of this weekend, I'd like to recount some of my finest airport moments.

Honorable mention:
This Saturday/Sunday. Saturday saw the plane delayed four times. On Sunday I wised up. Bought a slice of pizza and a brewski, found a table instead of the floor, read Sag Harbor.

The payoff? Emeline and Laurel, of course!

Third place:
Mexico, or rather, Hancock International Airport. Woke up at 3:45 am, arrived at the airport at 5 am to learn that our flight to Chicago was canceled, sat on the airport floor for seven hours until they finally realized that we were not going to Mexico that day.

The payoff? Mexico the next day. Plus a free stay at the Best Western next door. High class, kids.

Second place:
Hancock is the theme, it seems. As I drove to the airport pre-October break, tornadoes spun back home. I arrived to learn that my flight was canceled. I booked another flight, which ended up delayed three hours. I sat amongst SU students who video chatted on their Macs next to their designer luggage. Eventually JetBlue brought in pizzas because we'd waited for so long.

The payoff? Landing at JFK and sitting endlessly on the runway whilst the SU kids chatted on their cell phones. Win.

First place:
Kerry, Ireland to London, UK. Everyone lauds Ryanair for its cheap flights. They failed to mention that the aircraft are tiny, stiff, and shaky. The plane bucked between clouds. It rattled with every gust of altitude. My stomach rolled up and down. I put in my headphones and tried to sleep.

The payoff? Jude Law. Almost as good as Emeline and Laurel.

Notes from Notes from Underground

Re: a toothache: "One moans; but these are not straightforward moans, they are crafty moans, and the craftiness is the whole point."

"But what's to be done if the sole and express purpose of every intelligent man is babble--that is, a deliberate pouring from empty into void."

"Man loves creating and the making of roads, that is indisputable. But why does he so passionately love destruction and chaos as well? Can it be that he has such a love of destruction and chaos because he is instinctively afraid of achieving the goal and completing the edifice he is creating? How do you know, maybe he likes the edifice only from from far, and by no means up close; maybe he only likes creating it, and not living in it."

"...With consciousness, though the result comes out the same--that is, again there's nothing to do--at least one can occasionally whip oneself, and, after all, that lives things up a bit. It may be retrograde, but still it's better than nothing."