Impromptu Shopping Day

I woke up Saturday morning with one goal in mind--buying my textbooks. I trekked over to campus shortly after the bookstore opened and purchased said books, a mega notebook, some portfolios for papers, and two new pens, one blue, one black.

A few pages into Tobias Wolff, Sarah called me. We were not scheduled to hang out this weekend, but she came to get me, which was fortuitous. Beyond the simple pleasure of getting to hang out unexpectedly with my best friend, I got the chance to go with her to Ryan's Daughter, a place we discovered just before Christmas. Going out to eat is one of my favourite things in the world. We enjoyed an opulent lunch of curry chips (to start) seafood pot pies in cream sherry sauce, and trifle for dessert. I also ordered a Guinness, because why would one go to an Irish Pub and not?

Because there are a lot of fun novelty shops in the immediate vicinity--including a stationery store called Simply Noted where Sarah bought some beautiful, deep red card stock with which to make homemade Valentine's Day cards, we ended up staying out for several hours. "Tuesday Morning," a catchall store which features department store goodies at significantly marked down prices yielded and Iced Mocha Latte flavoured candle and a glass baking dish for me. We also meandered more around the Belvedere Square Market which is a compound of stores, restaurants, and shops across the street from our Irish Pub.

From there we hit the Dollar Store Circuit. Sarah and I are fast becoming connoisseurs of the "Everything's a Dollar!" venue. It was here that I made out like a bandit, scoring Valentine's Day wire garland for my cubicle, Barbie and Spider Man boxed V-Day cards (I will distribute these at work. You got it--Spidey for the boys, Barbie for the girls.), candy, and little presents for the people on my team, including blowing bubbles. My friend Catherine's phrase "Age-appropriate whimsy" inspired me.

Some plans that I had on the docket for this evening have been canceled, so now I am getting groceries delivered and doing the wash. I have a bit more reading to do to be prepared for classes this week, but I may knock that out on my lunch break today.

You like the sweet, shy type.


What kind of guy are you most attracted to? (CUTE anime pics)
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And Speaking of a Baltimore Renaissance....

I wrote a Petrarchan Sonnet the other day. It was an assignment in the Development of Poetry and Poetics class I am taking. Naturally prosody--form, meter, and rhythm are to be emphasized. The structure of this course is such that we will have a poem to turn in (along with copies of it for all classmates, of which there are 8) every other week. We will also be doing a lot of reading and listening to the instructor lecture and enjoy the sound of his own voice. It's not so bad.

Contemporary American Writers is set up much the same way that 20th Century World Literature was--three papers, two of them due during the course of the semester, the third due at the final class meeting.

All of that to say that I have already scoped out the deliverables that I have for each class and put the due dates for each in my Bad Girl's 2005 appointment book. I'll leave here in about 45 minutes to go over to the campus store to buy my text books (pay day is nearing, and I'll be able to float a check till Monday).

Nothing else to report, except that I am quickly approaching p. 500 in AK and have been enjoying a series of e-mail exchanges with a classmate of mine who is a Russian Literature expert. She is also in my poetry workshop group (that was a class last semester). The action for one of the characters is at the pinnacle, and my heart is won over by Tolstoy's genius, and the deft skill of his translator.

Coffee Flood

I went over to the industrial coffee maker, as I do every morning I'm at the office, and set about making the first pot of the day. After completing the procedure, I went to the women's room to apply some lipstick and eyeshadow and to smooth out some wrinkles in my sweater, etc. As I glided the applicator over my lips, I thought about the cup of joe I would have in mere seconds.

A lake of brown water flowed unchecked on the tiny kitchenette counter. There was no pot on the burner, overflowing or otherwise. 'Who,' I wondered 'took the karafe away?' I stood there dumbfounded, assuming that the whole thing had malfunctioned and that some kind person (no one is on my side of the office but me, by the way)had come and found the brewer spilling over and had removed the actual pot. In about 5 seconds it ocurred to me that this was a stupid conjecture. So. Realization dawned. I had walked away without ever putting a karafe on the burner. I made coffee alright. I made coffee all over everything...and the liquid had caused the machine to shut itself off. Great. I had broken the office's industrial coffee maker.

First things first. I used about 1,000 napkins in my clean up effort--sopping heaps of brown stained paper product in my hands. After about 10 rounds of wiping, the job was nearing completion. I unplugged the cord, dried it,and plugged it back in. The power button did not turn the machine back on. I stood there mentally tabulating how much this would cost, figuring I'd owe at least 50 dollars for this contraption (it's old, I would not pay full price I decided)...

I IMd Michael (who sits on the other side)the following:

"Okay, so I broke the coffee machine..."

He came to my rescue, pushed some button on the outlet, and voila...the bright red button that yields me a legal stimulant by the cupful came back on. So, if you'll excuse me... it should be ready now.

And thus begins the new Semester

I sat in the classroom in the engineering building with one other student, both of us significantly early for our 6 o'clock "Contemporary American Writers" class. It was approximately 5:30. I withdrew Anna Karenina from my bag, figuring a solid half hour to traverse some more of the Russian landscape was a good use of my time.

I am happy. For no good reason. I know I shouldn't be suspicious of happiness and feelings of general well-being, but I am. What, I wonder, is the cause of this lack of upset? In any case, it's actually better when happiness is not contingent on an event, external condition, or another person--because then, none of those entities can undermine it. Eating a rather curious lunch of PB&J and veggie chips, it seems to me that life is very very simple and very very good.

My cd player is stuck on "In times when my head" by Carly Simon--a track with which I was unfamiliar until a few days ago. It's one of those swirling lyrical ballads, the kind for which she became famous. Hey, it could be 1979 all over again. I seem to recall that I felt this kind of simplistic joy on some random day that year.

Nihilist Bear


Which Dysfunctional Care Bear Are You?
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Of the four Jarmusch efforts I watched, I enjoyed "Mystery Train" the most, perhaps because it was in color and had something of a plot-- though "Down by Law" was a credible film on most levels. "Stranger than Paradise" is what I have come to think of as Seinfeldian--I laughed, but was grateful when it ended. I must say that I am intrigued by the connection between the director and Roberto Benigni... who knew? So my crash course in Jim Jarmusch is over. I give myself a B-.

Tonight is my first class of the semester, and with a new professor. I hope I enjoy his teaching style and that the class content is meaningful. It's a requirement for the program, and in my experience required classes are often the least engaging. Tomorrow night is Contemporary American Writers.

I did hear back from the Graduate Christian Fellowship liaison. The group's standing weekly meetings are on Wednesday evenings, which significantly limits my ability to participate this semester (I have class that night), but I did ask to be put on the e-mail list so that I can be kept up on other events/functions. I was really looking forward to a weekly fellowship group through which I might build some satellite relationships, but I have to trust that this is at it should be for now...

Am listening to Carly Simon. "You're so Vain," she says, "You probably think this song is about you."

Toast and Jam

Among the cds that arrived on Friday in the mail, is Joss Stone's newest effort, Mind Body & Soul, and it is this album that I've chosen as the inaugural selection of the work week. I'm toasting two slices of potato bread--and I've taken care to bring in butter and jam from home. I'm out of oatmeal packets for the time being, so I've had to go for a slightly more involved meal. I know what you're thinking... Toast? Involved? Trust me. When you have to bring the components from home, toast is suddenly a pain....

In any case, I am in a good mood. My morning routine went amazingly well, in spite of my hitting the snooze alarm (I usually don't) once, I still had the better part of an hour to shower, dress, style my hair, gather up the things I'd need for the day, get my lunch from the fridge, enjoy a cup of coffee at home, while watching the morning news... and then, get this. I even had time to pray before Michael called to say he was nearly in front of my building.

I had not been outside since he drove me home from Sarah's place on Saturday morning, so I didn't know what to expect when it came to sidewalks, snow mounds, ice patches, etc. Well, I'm relieved to say that this was apparently a pretty manageable weather "disturbance" if the clean up effort is anything to go by. Navigating the little snow banks was easy enough... and what is even better.. We are expecting no more of the white stuff for the foreseeable future.

More Small Steps

I also applied for two jobs at Hopkins.

Small Steps

I e-mailed the contact person for the Graduate Christian Fellowship group at Hopkins. Am much interested in widending my circle of contacts and acquaintances at the moment. Somehow keep forgetting that I live across the street from an academic institution--and that as an enrolled student in said institution, I have the social and cultural benefits of membership.

In your eyes, people can't seem to see anything
because your eyes are covered up by tears! You
are constantly hurt and depressed... No one
seems to understand how you feel because
everyone is scared to get close to you... You
long to be able to reach out and tell someone
everything, and all of your problems... But you
have no one to tell, or they just don't seem to
want to hear what you have to say. You've been
hurt many times that you don't seem to have any
tears left to shed, or if you do, they're an
endless river flowing... You've started to hide
and bottle up all or your problems and
feelings, hoping that maybe they just will go
away... You want company, but at the same time,
you're scared of it. Your sanctuary is your
room where you can just be alone and try to
throw away all of your aching pains. You're
dark and mysterious and people like you for
that reason. Even if you think you're all by
yourself in the dark, someone is always there
with you. Your special someone wants to admit
and show their feelings towards you, but
they're afraid of how you'll take it. Get out
more and enjoy life because, it is far too long
to frown your way through :)


What Lies Behind Your Eyes? (With Pics)
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Love T.K.O.

I grew up listening to many of the predecessors to the current R&B scene. Among these is Teddy Pendergrass, and I am pleased to be the owner of his love songs collection (thank you, BMG), which includes my favourite track, "Love T.K.O." This is a slow groove anthem announcing that the singer has once again been Totally. Knocked. Out. by love, for what he hopes is the last time.

When I was a kid, say five or six, I felt in my soul that I understood what Teddy meant when he sang "taking the bumps and the bruises of all the things of a two-time loser..." and later when he plaintively sang "I'm tired of getting beat up by love" as the number faded out. The repeating refrain... "I think I better let it go, 'cause it looks like another Love T.K.O." Yes, my 1st grade self knew what that was all about. My crush was not digging on me, and Teddy felt my pain if no one else did.

As I type this post, Teddy's voice is filling my bedroom, the outside world a steady stream of snow... and I sing with him "I tried to take control of the love, the love took control of me... see I tried to hold on, my faith is gone, it's just another sad song..."

This is about right...


Congratulations! You are Miranda.


Which Sex and the City Character Are You?
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You are a Square. What a weirdo.


What kind of Sixties Person are you?
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I think they just didn't ask the right questions... I am waaay more hooked than is indicated by this result:

I am 39% Internet Addict.

I could go either way. Deep into the madness of nights filled with coding CGI-Scripts and online role playing games, or I could become a normal user. Good luck!

Take the
Internet Addict Test
@ FualiDotCom

Clearly, I need to remedy this...

I am 33% Tortured Artist.

I have some artistic ability, but it is probably a hobby and doesn't drive my life into a dark abysmal hole were I am alone and against the world.

Take the
Tortured Artist Test
@ FualiDotCom

On the Wane

With the exception of a few twitches here and there, my long-standing muscle-spasm/tension headache monster seems to be slinking off, for now. Clearly, I have a chronic problem and need to see Michael's Osteopath as he recommended. I can't live like this--or I need a good supply of muscle relaxants... in any case, that doesn't seem like the way to go. The last thing I need is to unwittingly become addicted to narcotics. But then, there might be a Lifetime movie made about my life. The title would be "Editing Out The Pain: The Kate Krupnik Story." Judith Light will play me. Or Bonny Bedelia... No, no. Nancy McKeon.

I am getting mentally prepared for the mound of snow that will be dropped on the state on Saturday and Sunday. It's a good thing I've already had groceries delivered for the next week. And Lord knows, I have Anna Karenina to keep me occupied. I need to make some more headway with this book, though. My Contemporary American Writers instructor e-mailed the class yesterday and gave us our first assignment. If I break my stride with AK too much, I can see my progress being completely derailed (no pun intended).

And now for a "shout out." I would like to direct you all to the new(er) link under "Blogs I read." Click "Look at me." This guy is good!

The First Snowfall/Waiting for my Takeout delivery...

It was bone dry, as they say, when I went into my 11 o'clock meeting. At roughly 12:21 when I emerged from the windowless conference room in which said meeting was held, the Robin-esque phrase "Holy Snowflakes, Batman!" leapt to mind. It sure looked like more than a mere dusting to me.

On other fronts, I think my hormones are playing ping pong, because I started finding my manager's boss attractive during the aforementioned meeting. It's not that I find him unattractive under normal circumstances, but neither do I find him attractive. I think he was meeting my very basic criteria at the moment--which is simply being male.

I bet the weather is going to affect the delivery time of my shrimp and broccoli w/wonton soup and eggroll. I wonder if we'll be let go early. I hear the roads are pretty bad.

Mary Poppins

That's who I feel like carrying my new fabric bag with everything, including a heating pad, two different kinds of headache medicine, February's O Magazine, and other various and sundries. I'm now carpooling with Michael,and today he picked me up at 6:30 (most days it will be an hour later than that)because he needs to leave the office at 4 (fine with me)--so I am here insanely early (the better to blog in peace).

Would you believe that I bought another handbag yesterday? Okay, but there is a really good reason for it... Sarah and I went to exchange the Senseo machine I bought her in error and while at Hecht's I saw the $67.00 dollar bag I'd been wanting on sale for $29.99 (major storewide 50% off sale). So yes, I bought it. Clearly 2005 is the Year of the Handbag as well. I now have three new purses in the space of 2 days--I might buy two purses in a given year under normal circumstances--all generic (brown or black) and practical. All my new handbags are somewhat specialized, and two of them need a corresponding colour outfit. It's a new day.

Well, if you'll excuse me. I'm trying to press this heating pad to my tempramental neck...

Antiquing

As is more and more common for me these days, I spent the afternoon in Hampden with a friend (and in this case, also a former coworker). Needless to say, we did Cafe Hon for lunch. Somewhere throughtout the course of the afternoon I got obsessed with finding a watering can. Don't ask me why. I wasn't successful in that vein, but I did find two great calendars (50% off since it's after the new year)--a wall one for Sarah, and a Bad Girls Franchise appointment book for me. I also got two amazing handbags that were on sale. One is an amazing magenta silk number, the other a very sizeable, sturdy cordury job. It's a great everyday bag for the winter months. Devika, I would love to do the Hampden strip with you someday!

I must have slept weird, because I awoke with one of my infamous tension headaches. It worsened as Paula and I shopped, but didn't really stop me from enjoying my afternoon. Now that I'm back at the homestead, I'm pushing the water--that seems to help the most.

Have been watching Jarmusch's "Down by Law" since this morning, but interrupted my viewing to chat with Victoria. We'd been playing phone tag all week, and talking to her today was a priority. Started watching again this afternoon as I transferred the contents of my purse to the new winter bag, but could not focus due to headache. I hope I get it under control by the time I hook up with Sarah this evening. Can't wait to give her the calendar!

Safe

I grew up feeling unsafe. This is a retrospective assessment; I didn't then think in terms of safe or unsafe, but as an adult, I see safety as the least common denominator of all my yearnings. In any case, as I think through what I most need in a mate I see that someone who is capable of making me feel safe, in every way, has surged to the top of my list. My friendship with Sarah and my relationship with sister Caryl are the two premiere examples of this kind of safety in my life. I feel safe enough to be angry with them, to let them be angry with me, have heated debates with them, tell them when something is bogus, and I know that it changes nothing between us. Sometimes your safe place is a person...and for as much as I want a man who can surprise me, keep me intrigued, who can be just left of center enough to keep me wanting more, his commitment to me cannot be something I have to guess.

Philadelphia Story

I spent the better part of my day in the city perhaps best described as the more respected cousin of Baltimore. My company has satellite offices in Philadelphia, and I and a colleague went to do some field work. It was a successful, pretty stress-free visit on all counts, and I had some interesting conversation with the woman who accompanied me. You never know how these work trips are going to be, but it wasn't awkward at all.

Literary Salon

Last night was the first gathering of the women with whom I was in poetry workshop this past semester. We decided to keep meeting, on a monthly basis, to share our work and benefit from each other's insight. I drank two glasses of wine and admired the hostesses 3 cats--Maynard, Pooka, and Zorro the Gay Blade (I am not making this up).

The Salon

Being in desperate need of a relaxer and a trim, this visit to my stylist could not have come soon enough. Tomorrow at 1:30 I put myself into her cabable hands for the transformation.

No Right or Wrong

At my mother's urging, and after thinking it over, I sent G a brief e-mail wishing him well and inquiring about his new year. My mother has told me several times that she believed he was under the impression that I did not wish to speak to him. Yesterday was probably the 5th time she'd mentioned that to me, and I started to wonder... "am I being stubborn?" In any case, it suddenly felt counterintuitive not to e-mail him, so I did. He's written back, and from what I can tell, he doesn't seem to have been terribly bothered by any of it. I did not mention our pronounced hiatus from communicating and neither did he. I'm relieved to be able to file it away as something that doesn't need futher pondering--and it's nice to know where things stand and what is reasonable to expect.

If he ever hurts my feelings again, it will be something of a feat, because I can't imagine that I'd be inclined to extend myself much in his direction... and if I did, my expectations are so very changed, that I don't know if I am capable of being disappointed in him anymore. I was asked this morning by a couple of friends if it bothered me that he didn't even mention the incident,and I could say truthfully that it didn't, because now I know that it's not the character of our association to be able to talk through difficult matters.

Life is so strange. Because I mean everything I said above, and yet, I missed him terribly for the last month and a half.

French Press

The cheap one I'd never before used, tonight I brought down from the top cabinet. I've run out of filters and watching Jarmusch's "Coffee and Cigarettes" made me fiend for a cup. The "press" apparatus was not strong enough and all of the grounds pushed right up through the brew. So much for that.

When I'm at Sarah's place, I use the press exclusively. Her actual coffeemaker is this scary industrial looking thing that is more ideal for an after dinner round of joe for five or six people, not for the two-cup drinker. I find that as I get older, I appreciate the earthy crudeness of pressed grounds more and more.

In any case, back to Jarmusch. Carlos, whose taste I now trust implicitly, warned me that it was uneven. I would agree--and I would add that in places it was inane. There were gems peppered in some of the dialogues/vignettes. I laughed out loud in places, but for the most part, think I could write a more convincing movie about the universality, the assumed and presumed upon attitude we have toward coffee...the utter inanity and absurdity of the things that are discussed to the backdrop of its scent--first aromatic, then stale--the way it lends itself to cigarettes.

During the Iggy Pop/Tom Waits scene they comment that in the 40s it was coffee and pie, and now we are a coffee and cigarettes generation. I have always loved men who smoke cigarettes while drinking coffee...black, so that was a truism that gave me the patience to finish it.

New and Exciting in Charm City...

Red Emma's. I noticed this place a few weeks ago when I was riding around in the city in Sarah's car. An acquaintance recently heralded its arrival on his Web log, so I thought it deserved a mention in "The Chronicles." It is also linked in the "Strictly Baltimore" section on the right.

Who wants to go there with me sometime?

Your inner soul is saying love me baby! You are the
hottest chick of the bunch and every guy longs
to go out with you, not to mention be your soul mate! You
seem to have put a spell on everyone around you
because when you walk into the room, you're
centre of attention! You mystify everyone with
your beauty and presence. Hopefully one day you'll find that
lucky guy and you'll know he is the 'one.'
Live life and keep having fun!


What Is Your Inner Soul Trying To Say? (With Pics)
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Stability: Stability is your prime instinct. You
have a strong balanced soul, it belongs to
Earth, you have potential to acheive great
success in your life.


What is your prime instinct?
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I rearranged my bedroom, slightly, on Saturday. I did so to increase floor space. So far I'm liking it. Have decided that 2005 is the year that I will finally focus on bringing some kind of cohesive "look" to my sleeping space. I need to get a couple of prints and posters framed... maybe I'll paint. I always say that, and never do it, but since I have decided that I am not upgrading to a bigger apartment, I am going to focus on making the one I have even homier.

I rode in to work with my manager today--she doesn't live far from me, and for various and sundry reasons, it was more convenient than the bus--though I did come in significantly later than usual. "Man without a Face" was on one of the numerous HBO channels, so I watched it, a bit absently, while sipping chai this a.m.

My uncle's funeral is tomorrow, so I'm going to my mom's house tonight. I am excited to take a book I bought for my poetry workshop class last semester to my sister, who needs it for her poetry workshop this coming semester... with Lucille Clifton. It means so much to me that she will get the opportunity to benefit from studying with LC. It meant the world to me when I got that chance.

Am listening to a few songs from Boys II Men's "Legacy" album over and over again. I wouldn't say that I was a fan of the entire catalogue of their work, but there are a couple of songs--the ones that were newer, that really got me. Okay, off to a meeting now...

You are a cappuccino, sipped in the afternoon,
after sex.

You are not trendy; you set trends for others. You
wear black or nothing, and your playlist
alternates Mahler with bands no one else has
heard of. You read Rimbaud in public places,
and you have a vintage poster for La Dolce
Vita hanging over your bed. You pepper
your conversation with quotes from obscure
Jacobean revenge tragedies, and you cackle to
yourself when your lovers assume that you are
quoting I Love Lucy. Your glasses have
designer frames and you do not need them to
see.


What kind of coffee are you?
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Black bean Kielbasa and Johnny Cake

I had a quiet Friday night with a hearty wintry meal, Anna Karenina, and subpar television viewing options (I watch tv while I read, always have).

My mother's last living sibling passed yesterday morning--he'd not been breathing without the aid of life support for the better part of two weeks, and the decision was made to let him go gently into that good night. He was more than 20 years my mother's senior, so he was actually an elderly gentleman. The funeral will likely be Tuesday or Wednesday.

I did receive (at my request) an updated grade report from the university; I got an A (previously it read "M") in 20th Century World Lit--no +, no -, just an A, which was a satisfying conclusion to the whole situation. Personally I think the +/- system was created for purely petty reasons, but in the spirit of my organic resolutions, I'll not be dwelling on that...

Sarah's last present from amazon.com finally arrived. To be clear, this is January 8th, and I ordered on December 15th. Thankfully, I am being reimbursed for shipping from the aforementioned company. It was only fair given the extended delays.Most entitites are willing to work with you, the truth of which gives me a warm feeling, similar to the one I experience when drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream. I am reaching the point where even minimal demonstrations of reason make me insanely happy.

Watch out. I might become one of those easily contented types. Here's hoping...

Exit Christmas Tree Stage Left

I made quick and efficient work of dismantling the Beast of Yuletide Glee, also known as "Nick Lachey" (because Sarah thought that would be a good name for the tree this year) that lived in my livingroom since the day before Thanksgiving. From ornament removal to boxing up the pvc branches, it was about an hour and twenty minutes of work.

Having my apartment back improved my mood considerably. Perhaps it was the feeling of accomplishment, maybe it was that I no longer felt mocked by Christmastime expectations. In any case, it is now really 2005 in the Krupnik household and I will be rocking the midpoint of the '00s in high style.

I finished watching "Garden State" while I broke it down, and then after I put things back to rights, I watched "Sex in the City" part I, disc 3. I meant to read some of Anna K. last night, because given where I left off, the action is definitely rising. To use a phrase from the common hip hop vernacular... this book is "Off The Chain!" I'm sure Tolstoy is somewhere rolling his eyes.

Hottie Action Figure

This morning during my commute I picked Barry White's Greatest Hits as my soundtrack of choice. When Public Transportation Hottie (I also used to see this guy on the MARC train when I had the hellacious commute from Baltimore to Rockville every day) boarded, Barry's unmistakable beats and riffs were playing at top volume in my ear, and the cadence of this guy's walk matched the music perfectly--his long, black overcoat giving the impression of drama and sophistication.

Search Query Part II

In looking over my "retrostats," I see that some intriguing souls found The Baltimore Chronicles by querying "black women white men kiss attraction" and "dropped like a hot potato." My question? How did they know?

Napoleon Dyanamite


Which Napoleon Dynamite character are you?
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Flicker Flicker

I heard recently that the "Crazy Lady with Cats" has been replaced by the "Crazy Lady with Candles" phenom. That this woman is single is understood. I found that funny because I had been congratulating myself on not having the two requisite cats that a "certain type" of unattached woman procures,sometime in her 30s, usually. I know that it may be ridiculous, but I haven't felt the same about striking up the match and lighting the tea lights of late.

I decided not to dismantle the Christmas tree last night. I'll let myself enjoy it for another evening or two--then again, I may take it down tonight. It never feels like the new year is having a fair shake till all the vestiges of the nativity celebration are put away.

Things are okay, for the most part. At work we are at the genesis of a new project that we don't even remotely have arms around--I think the next couple of months will be intense.

I am loving the weather! A balmy 60 degrees, too warm for my thinnest jacket, even.

Organic Resolutions

I stopped writing contrived New Year's Resolutions some time ago, but each year I find that there are several items that surge to the forefront of my consciousness as "things to work on," or "items of primary importance," that are usually ones that I've started to address, naturally, a while before the first of January.

I hereby declare 2005 the Year of The Manicure--I really want to take better care of my hands.

I hereby declare 2005 the Year of Sitting Still (see post from December 31st) and waiting for direction...also to be known as the Year of The Loosened Grip. I have finally worn myself out trying to orchestrate death defying emotional maneuvers.

I am also making a conscious effort to stop holding the grudges I've nursed. I had a grandmother who could hold a grudge like no one else. She died embittered. I am making a conscious choice to blow out the candle on all my old anger. Revenge, the dish best served cold, will not be on the menu this year. It shall be the Year of Finally Forgiving all The Crap I Could Not Get Over Before.

As a result of this first semester of grad school, I have decided that I really want to teach at the college level--with an M.A. I can do that. This shall be the Year of Mobilizing to Teach Literature and Start Sending out Poems to be Published.

It will also be the Year in Which I Read Anna Karenina and See Nearly Every Jim Jarmusch Film.

What's on your plate for '05?

Day 2, 2005

I got my first taste of what it would be like to have a pet in the apartment this weekend--both the last of 2004 and the first of 2005--and I don't know if I'm ready for the commitment of a dog, or any animal for that matter. I'm praying through the possibility of taking temporary to permanent custody of Babygirl if it comes to that, but don't know how feasible that would be given my work schedule, and her ill temperament toward strangers. She's a beautiful dog, and nicely behaved provided it's one of us (my sisters or my mom). In any case, this is not something I have to worry about now.

Welcoming 2005 with my sister (and the dog) was enjoyable and comforting. We made cookies, drank cocktails, watched movies, and talked. On New Year's Day proper I got the opportunity to hang out with Victoria, which was, as always, good for my soul.

It is always a bit hard right after Caryl and I part company; the place seems so much more empty for having been full. Now it's just me again and I have to ease into this new year like a pair of jeans not yet broken in. It's nice and crisp, but not mine yet. It hasn't molded to the shape of the life I know.

Tomorrow morning I will go to work, doing it all again, hoping to make the best effort I can, hoping to find much to love in the next 12 months of unfolding days and nights, hoping to hear his voice again, hoping to write at least one amazing poem, hoping to start my life...for real this time.