memoir

next semester, i'm taking a memoir workshop. i'm trying to come up with a good title for my collection of memories. oh, and i'm also trying to determine which period of my life to chronicle. i'm not being modest when i say that my life up to this point has been fairly unremarkable. i mean, the era of Professor Love Muffin was fun and all, but no one's going to want to read about that...

(Heroin) Lean

so, i was in fells today doing some specialty shop shopping. warnings of freezing rain this morning didn't really materialize. it's a balmy 40+ degrees, so i took to the streets (which means i got in a taxi) and hit Su Casa, Ten Thousand Villages, and Sound Garden for a few presents i knew i wouldn't find anywhere else.

in an effort to save some cost, i vowed to take the bus back home. after stopping off at teavolve for a 20 dollar bill breaking latte and mini scone, i headed to the no. 11 stop.

i saw him from a block ahead. from that distance, this man was apparently defacing the posted bus schedule. when i got closer, i saw that he was trying desperately to read it. as soon as i showed up, he asked for my help. once we assessed the current time, i was able to let him know that it would be a mere seven minutes before the next towson bound bus showed up.

on time for once, the 11 pulled up right at 2:23 and i boarded. what luck! the till was busted, so i was able to repocket my 1.60. my obviously high fellow stop waiter boarded after me. the driver had to tell him three times that he didn't need to pay.

then he sat down. it wasn't long before he was nodding off, nearly falling all the way to the floor several times--but he always managed to pull himself up before reaching the point of no return. i'd been making a game of guessing what drug he must be on up to that point.

the lean paved the way for my a ha! yes... the heroin lean.

it's christmastime in the city...

Christmas Time Is Here (Oh that we could always see such spirit through the year)

you cannot live outside of your truth

this sentiment has flown back to me like a prodigal pigeon in the last few days. the question is what is my truth? well, i have a few lower-case ones to consider, such as the fact that my hands are rejecting the powder gel nails i've been sporting since late july. in two weeks i've had as many near misses: the tip of the prosthetic has been clipped in both instances, but my own nail [bed] has been spared. this, i believe with all of my heart, is a warning--one i will heed. i have already made an appointment for tomorrow morning to have them removed.

sarah was not so lucky this week. In fact, when i heard about her misfortune it all became very clear. my soul raised up and said to me "oh, you are SO getting these taken off."

other truths... let's see. going to grad school part time and working full time, this time around, is not really manageable. i cannot stop working, yet at the same time, i am concerned that i need to start thinking, seriously, about what's going to be true for me at this time next year.

it is true that i want to teach at the college level; it is also true that i like my current salary.

here's an uncomfortable truth: my apartment is too small for my life. my sister is an ideal roommate, so there are no "personality problems," but it's impossible for my room to stay tidy. my closet? forget it. it's a mess b/c that's where i've stuffed the guts of my existence.

we had to buy a 2-foot christmas tree because there was no way to accommodate my artificial 7-footer. the upside? the little one is real and immaculate in her fullness. so lemonade from lemons and all that...

so, i need to not have nails; i need to decide to put my money where my mouth is with school and work and live out my articulated priorities; and i need a bigger place (my ability to procure this extra space may be largely determined by career choices and changes/reductions in salary).

in addition to these facts, though, is the one that i can do little about. i am feeling an urgency to get real about my romantic prospects, which are nil at the moment. i feel like i really need to enhance my life with a suitable partnership with the right guy. yet, i'm kinda apathetic about it, too. i guess the term for this is ambivalent...

it is my truth that all hopes aside, my book editing gig did not lead to a reconsideration of a past romantic one. Mr. CE was ultimately not interested. i didn't ask him, i just know. (these kinds of things are real obvious, especially if the guy's already rejected you once.)

now that aside, his book is quite good, and i'm anxious to give it another read once my semester ends (he sent along draft 3, at my request). but i know that there is no credible extension of the metaphor of his narrative to the narrative that was that anemic storyline between him and me.

i dream several nights a week about facing facts. and the thing is, i haven't even been aware of fighting them. but i guess i must be on some level.

finally, my pants are tight. it is an inconvenient truth that i've gained back the weight. demoralizing, but completely my fault.

these are the facts as i understand them.