I deconstruct them
then put them back together
'cause I can't for real.
The more I do it
maybe it'll be simpler
off the page.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Welcome to the 21st Century of Relationships
In this day and age, when we are all so aching to let everyone in on our personal failures and triumphs, technology has kindly given us neat little paths on which to do so. But I say, why not step it up a bit?
Take Facebook. Kudos are in order for the site, which has now (in cause anyone's missed it these last few months) added a "In an Open Relationship" status in the fold. But what good is this status if you can only add one name? Do you have to pick your favorite open relationship and snub the others? Do you rotate every month? I say give us multiple slots! In an Open Relationship with Jim Bob. In an Open Relationship with Mary Kay. In an Open Relationship with Your Mom. Then there will be no favoritism.
And while you're at it, why not add some new relationship statuses? "Still Not Over" and "Desperately Wants but Can't Have" are some that come to mind. What about, "Used to be Married to but Now Trying Friendship with," or "Friends with Benefits with"? Oh, and to avoid gender-preference confusion, how about the ever-popular, "Pretending to be Married to Just for Fun but Neither of Us are Gay" feature?
Might as well, right? Then we could all save time on hiding secret angst in our statuses (come on you know we all do it) and just come out with how we are feeling! Who's with me?
Take Facebook. Kudos are in order for the site, which has now (in cause anyone's missed it these last few months) added a "In an Open Relationship" status in the fold. But what good is this status if you can only add one name? Do you have to pick your favorite open relationship and snub the others? Do you rotate every month? I say give us multiple slots! In an Open Relationship with Jim Bob. In an Open Relationship with Mary Kay. In an Open Relationship with Your Mom. Then there will be no favoritism.
And while you're at it, why not add some new relationship statuses? "Still Not Over" and "Desperately Wants but Can't Have" are some that come to mind. What about, "Used to be Married to but Now Trying Friendship with," or "Friends with Benefits with"? Oh, and to avoid gender-preference confusion, how about the ever-popular, "Pretending to be Married to Just for Fun but Neither of Us are Gay" feature?
Might as well, right? Then we could all save time on hiding secret angst in our statuses (come on you know we all do it) and just come out with how we are feeling! Who's with me?
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
The Sloth Hole
I have now entered the Fancy-Scmancy Phone world. For real this time. That one time, in April: that was a pretend fancy-schmancy phone. This is a Droid. And thanks to the generosity of my awesome parents who put me back on their family plan (welcome back to childhood, Kate!) I'm paying less per month for my F-S Phone and all its perks than I was paying for calling and texting only on that Chinese RAZR I ordered on Ebay after my pretend F-S phone broke. (Although I will miss how amusing it was that the RAZR didn't speak English...)
Now, this new phone could be helpful and it could be harmful on my new quest: not to fall deeper into the Sloth Hole than I have already fallen (Sloth Hole: (n) Reminiscent of Alice's rabbit hole, although instead of pulling you into another world, it makes you complacent with sitting in front of a computer all day.) I am constantly worried that I am missing something as I am stuck here in front of my laptop all day, although there is little I can do about it at the moment. Unlike some who have fallen into the Hole, I have reason to be down here: as a writer and online tutor, my job lies on this computer. It is a part of me, like gaff tape to a theater technician.
So here's where the Droid comes in. Yes, I will have access to e-mail, weather, maps, my calendar, contacts, Facebook, Pandora, even Blogger from anywhere I can get a cell signal. But does that mean that I will spend less time checking these things once I get home to my computer, or more time checking them on the Droid when I should be doing other things away from my computer?
I live in the #2 walking-friendly city in America. I should probably try and stay out of Sloth Holes when I'm walking around out in it, lest I fall and break something (most tragically, my new phone).
Now, this new phone could be helpful and it could be harmful on my new quest: not to fall deeper into the Sloth Hole than I have already fallen (Sloth Hole: (n) Reminiscent of Alice's rabbit hole, although instead of pulling you into another world, it makes you complacent with sitting in front of a computer all day.) I am constantly worried that I am missing something as I am stuck here in front of my laptop all day, although there is little I can do about it at the moment. Unlike some who have fallen into the Hole, I have reason to be down here: as a writer and online tutor, my job lies on this computer. It is a part of me, like gaff tape to a theater technician.
So here's where the Droid comes in. Yes, I will have access to e-mail, weather, maps, my calendar, contacts, Facebook, Pandora, even Blogger from anywhere I can get a cell signal. But does that mean that I will spend less time checking these things once I get home to my computer, or more time checking them on the Droid when I should be doing other things away from my computer?
I live in the #2 walking-friendly city in America. I should probably try and stay out of Sloth Holes when I'm walking around out in it, lest I fall and break something (most tragically, my new phone).
Monday, November 16, 2009
Slackening the Reins
I was having a discussion with my friend this weekend about life. He told me that lately he's come to the conclusion that while he's doing almost everything to work toward his dreams, the one thing that he cannot work toward is love. No matter how hard he can strive for happiness and greatness in all else, this is one area where he cannot prevail with hard work. Happiness in this area must come from something else. Chance? Hope? Being open to new pathways that may lead to love? It's sad to think that in our can-do American world, there are some things that cannot be accomplished with hard work and perseverance alone. Some things you can work and work at and still have them crumble before your eyes, sometimes by your doing, and sometimes not.
It's scary to let the reigns go on something as important to me as love. As much as I've wanted to embrace my independence this past year, I've been lonely when I don't feel something there for someone. But I can't work so hard anymore. Unexpected encounters brought me all the joys of the summer, so I have to trust that the universe will bring me more again, when I'm not searching so hard for them.
Meanwhile, I am going to follow my friend's example of working hard on my own dreams, and hopefully things will fall into place after that, when they are supposed to.
It's scary to let the reigns go on something as important to me as love. As much as I've wanted to embrace my independence this past year, I've been lonely when I don't feel something there for someone. But I can't work so hard anymore. Unexpected encounters brought me all the joys of the summer, so I have to trust that the universe will bring me more again, when I'm not searching so hard for them.
Meanwhile, I am going to follow my friend's example of working hard on my own dreams, and hopefully things will fall into place after that, when they are supposed to.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Evolution of a Writer
Preschool:
First poem is written. "Down went the celery, down went the cat. Down went me but not dat dat." Very proud of self.
First Grade:
Cute furry animal is happy, cute furry animal gets into trouble, cute furry animal gets out of trouble. The end.
Writing method: Dictation to mom, original artwork by me.
Third Grade:
Joint story with best friend about the misadventures of bat and flying squirrel.
Writing method: Two heads better than one. Original artwork by both of us. Giggling abounds.
Fifth Grade:
Possibly embarrassing time-traveling story involving middle school gym teacher.
Writing method: Mechanical pencils and legal pads. Inspiration hits anywhere and everywhere.
Eighth Grade:
Painfully cliched natural disaster story inspired by hit mid-nineties movie. Stilted dialogue and too many adverbs. Lots of fun to write, though. Flew through it.
Writing method: Mechanical pencils and mead notebooks. Lots of Mead notebooks.
High School:
Mushy stories about having lots of free time with my boyfriend. Writing as coping mechanism and escape from "overly strict" parents.
Writing method: Sparkly pens in secret journals and notebooks, scribbled behind illegally-locked doors.
Senior Year:
"Real" fiction as learned in college creative writing class. Previous writing shown to be positively awful. Damn, this stuff is hard.
Writing method: Parents' slow, slow, computer.
College:
Character development, plot, theme, setting, description? Story arcs...inspiration and ideas coming slower, pushed out by craft. Am I actually going to major in this?
Writing method: Laptop at Village Coffee Shop, caffeine addiction begins.
Senior Year of College:
Tackle novella for senior honors project. With 3 weeks left before due date, decide to completely switch from third-person to first-person POV. Write straight through spring break. Accomplishment. 130 pages. Phew.
Writing method: Village Coffee Shop, Granville Coffee Shop, Library, Quad, Maine, on Floor of Room, on Ceiling of Room, on Top of Fridge. Caffeine IV inserted.
(Almost) Last Semester of MFA:
Write a paragraph. Check Facebook. Walk away. Write another paragraph and decide that character isn't flushed out enough, so write a character interview. Make coffee. Decide that that character wouldn't do what I wanted him to do so change what he does. Do laundry. Research antelopes. Stare at the ceiling. Check Facebook. Write another paragraph. Wait until the last weekend before submission to write the majority of the story and then wonder why I'm developing an ulcer.
Writing method: Survival.
First poem is written. "Down went the celery, down went the cat. Down went me but not dat dat." Very proud of self.
First Grade:
Cute furry animal is happy, cute furry animal gets into trouble, cute furry animal gets out of trouble. The end.
Writing method: Dictation to mom, original artwork by me.
Third Grade:
Joint story with best friend about the misadventures of bat and flying squirrel.
Writing method: Two heads better than one. Original artwork by both of us. Giggling abounds.
Fifth Grade:
Possibly embarrassing time-traveling story involving middle school gym teacher.
Writing method: Mechanical pencils and legal pads. Inspiration hits anywhere and everywhere.
Eighth Grade:
Painfully cliched natural disaster story inspired by hit mid-nineties movie. Stilted dialogue and too many adverbs. Lots of fun to write, though. Flew through it.
Writing method: Mechanical pencils and mead notebooks. Lots of Mead notebooks.
High School:
Mushy stories about having lots of free time with my boyfriend. Writing as coping mechanism and escape from "overly strict" parents.
Writing method: Sparkly pens in secret journals and notebooks, scribbled behind illegally-locked doors.
Senior Year:
"Real" fiction as learned in college creative writing class. Previous writing shown to be positively awful. Damn, this stuff is hard.
Writing method: Parents' slow, slow, computer.
College:
Character development, plot, theme, setting, description? Story arcs...inspiration and ideas coming slower, pushed out by craft. Am I actually going to major in this?
Writing method: Laptop at Village Coffee Shop, caffeine addiction begins.
Senior Year of College:
Tackle novella for senior honors project. With 3 weeks left before due date, decide to completely switch from third-person to first-person POV. Write straight through spring break. Accomplishment. 130 pages. Phew.
Writing method: Village Coffee Shop, Granville Coffee Shop, Library, Quad, Maine, on Floor of Room, on Ceiling of Room, on Top of Fridge. Caffeine IV inserted.
(Almost) Last Semester of MFA:
Write a paragraph. Check Facebook. Walk away. Write another paragraph and decide that character isn't flushed out enough, so write a character interview. Make coffee. Decide that that character wouldn't do what I wanted him to do so change what he does. Do laundry. Research antelopes. Stare at the ceiling. Check Facebook. Write another paragraph. Wait until the last weekend before submission to write the majority of the story and then wonder why I'm developing an ulcer.
Writing method: Survival.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Five-Year Journal, Year One
One year ago today, I started a 5-year journal. I get 6 lines to write a short summary of my day. This was my first entry:
"For the first time, the future looks back at me, as vast and open as the endlessness of space, and as one vision of how to fill the space ends, I must create a new vision of how I will fill it back in. This is very scary."
Though I haven't had the best autumn so far this year, I am happy to say that my future is not so scary as it was on November 3, 2008. Now every night when I open the journal to set down my day, I will also get to read about what happened last year.
This, my friends, is my secret for remembering everything.
"For the first time, the future looks back at me, as vast and open as the endlessness of space, and as one vision of how to fill the space ends, I must create a new vision of how I will fill it back in. This is very scary."
Though I haven't had the best autumn so far this year, I am happy to say that my future is not so scary as it was on November 3, 2008. Now every night when I open the journal to set down my day, I will also get to read about what happened last year.
This, my friends, is my secret for remembering everything.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
5 Randoms for a Halloween Weekend
1. My parents decided to come up for the weekend, and while I had a good time with them, I was ready to get back to normal after I dropped them at the airport today. As I observed my interactions with them this weekend, I wondered if other peoples' parents (especially mothers) talk about the past as much as mine do:
"Do you remember when we brought you to Boston when you were 7 and we ate at that place with the checkered tableclothes at Quincy Market and had baked beans?"
"No."
"You DON'T!?"
Or, even more curiously, "Do you remember when you were one and we used to dance around the dining room table singing nursery rhymes?"
"Kids don't remember anything from when they were under three, mom."
"They DON'T!? You don't remember that?!"
I've come to the conclusion that my mother never quite got over me growing up.
2. I saw the Post-Meridian Radio Players' production of "The Big Broadcast" last night, and forgot how much I love live theatre and concurrently am embarrassed for loving live theatre so much. It's so corny. But I don't care.
3. I realized that as much as I miss being a child, I wouldn't find walking around getting free candy from strangers as entertaining as I did when I was little. I can go to CVS down the street now and buy whatever candy I want. Kind of a bummer, really. Now if as adults we could go door to door asking for money, or beer, or electronics...that I could get into.
4. I can't believe it's been almost a year that I've been here on Parker Street. I've now witnessed all the seasons here, and still maintain that this is one of the best neighborhoods to live in. Now, if I could get a couch and maybe an area rug in my living room, life would be near-perfect.
5. Autumn seems to be, once again, a time for endings and re-assessing life goals. I think I am better equipped to deal with such things this year, although am still quite sad at the current outcome. Hopefully if this trajectory continues similarly as last year's, I will see a resurgence after Christmas, and for that I am very excited.
And a bonus 6th...
No matter what kind of mood you are in, seeing Chewbacca riding around on a Seguay in the North End will always, always bring a smile to your face. Especially when he growls at everyone he passes.
"Do you remember when we brought you to Boston when you were 7 and we ate at that place with the checkered tableclothes at Quincy Market and had baked beans?"
"No."
"You DON'T!?"
Or, even more curiously, "Do you remember when you were one and we used to dance around the dining room table singing nursery rhymes?"
"Kids don't remember anything from when they were under three, mom."
"They DON'T!? You don't remember that?!"
I've come to the conclusion that my mother never quite got over me growing up.
2. I saw the Post-Meridian Radio Players' production of "The Big Broadcast" last night, and forgot how much I love live theatre and concurrently am embarrassed for loving live theatre so much. It's so corny. But I don't care.
3. I realized that as much as I miss being a child, I wouldn't find walking around getting free candy from strangers as entertaining as I did when I was little. I can go to CVS down the street now and buy whatever candy I want. Kind of a bummer, really. Now if as adults we could go door to door asking for money, or beer, or electronics...that I could get into.
4. I can't believe it's been almost a year that I've been here on Parker Street. I've now witnessed all the seasons here, and still maintain that this is one of the best neighborhoods to live in. Now, if I could get a couch and maybe an area rug in my living room, life would be near-perfect.
5. Autumn seems to be, once again, a time for endings and re-assessing life goals. I think I am better equipped to deal with such things this year, although am still quite sad at the current outcome. Hopefully if this trajectory continues similarly as last year's, I will see a resurgence after Christmas, and for that I am very excited.
And a bonus 6th...
No matter what kind of mood you are in, seeing Chewbacca riding around on a Seguay in the North End will always, always bring a smile to your face. Especially when he growls at everyone he passes.
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