Under Wraps

some combination of school work and having nothing to say accounts for the 10-day hiatus from blogging. mostly, though, i've been in a state of waiting to hear about an opportunity. and my mental energy was so taken up with that waiting, that i couldn't find the energy to do much else. i never heard, so of course i've had to come to the obvious conclusion. a no go.

all that aside, i've decided to take a pedagogy course next semester--specifically for students who might want to teach at the university level. between the MA i already have and the MFA I'm just about a year away from, I should be more than qualified when the time comes.

my current thinking is that one way to approach some level of happiness is to maybe decrease my hours (wherever i put in those hours) next fall, and pick up an undergrad class or two. and i'll be off...

Chapter 3: In which the Writer of this Blog Says What She Wants Aloud

Prospects.

Blog world, I have had to be careful. Ever since that news article a few years ago now, when Kate Krupnik and Salimah Perkins officially became one person. More accurately, it was confirmed that we are one in the same. Kate Krupnik, the thin veil over Salimah's thoughts and wishes. And embarrassments and humiliations.

I've occasionally said some true things. Some real things.

Here's something real. Here's something true.

I've tossed my hat into the ring for something and I want it. I'm prepared for it. I'm good enough for it. And I'm open to it coming to me, without equivocation.

In the past, I have stopped short of what I want because I didn't think I was good enough to have it, or I thought I owed someone else my allegiance, or consideration.

If this comes to me, it will be another chance to be faithful to myself, and to own my own sense of promise. I welcome it.

Chapter 2: In Which Kate Krupnik Discovers That If She Were a Typeface It Would Be Helvetica

blog world, do me a solid. don't ask me where i've been. i have been off solving puzzles of no consequence and eating oatmeal. i have discovered the best coffee on the east coast right in my own backyard, and i've had some near misses. i'm in hiding and i'm in plain sight. i've figured out my way around some stuff. i've made my peace with some stuff that i know now will never work out as i'd hoped, and i'm grateful for the things that will. and also, i do not like this cold, spitty rain. the end.

Chapter 1: In which Kate Krupnik ponders Unifying Themes

The weeks immediately following Kate Krupnik's 36^th birthday found her preoccupied with unifying themes. It was the onset of fall—as good a time as any—to throw away scraps of paper, outdated outfits, and to mail in rebates and appliance registrations. This was her gift to the cosmos, she decided. She would be better this year, she would not just say she would be better. She would actually be better. This enterprise involved, among other things, finding a signature fragrance and a suite of supporting products to signify her commitment to the scent. She settled on a coffee brew and grind that was the most agreeable to her palate—something nutty and chocolatey. She would no longer be swayed by these nouveau blends that promised so much in the way of smooth, nuanced sensuality (namely a better life) but delivered something vaguely acrid instead. Oh, she was tired of all that.

The first step is always to take each thing on its own terms. Then you had to figure out your terms. Or was it the other way around? In any case, each party had to come to the table with its non-negotiables already decided. No, you did not want to try to figure that out on the back end. Kate Krupnik would approach every new situation by asking herself "What are the facts as I understand them in this scenario?"

It would likely be tiresome.

But whenever she failed to ask that apparently pedestrian, unimaginative question there was always a nasty consequence. That had been the problem. In the past she'd been just focused enough on the semblance of order, of ducks in rows, that when her attention wandered at the last moment it felt like even more of a tragedy. Really, only occasionally had there been a payoff for her deviations. Not consistently enough to justify making it a way of life. And no wonder. Is it really a deviation to be unfaithful to your coffee brand? On her less moored days, she couldn't be sure.

Tourist in my own city

Another eventful weekend at the Baltimore Chronicles. C went away to points north for the weekend, so Friday night it was just me and the dog and Thai takeout (which I did not share with the dog). She woke me up on Saturday with cute little barks and jumps that translated roughly to "okay, up! time for my walk! i've let you sleep long enough!"

Sarah and I had prearranged to hook up for a bank errand (mine), breakfast, and then to revise an assignment for my Tuesday night class. That took longer than I expected, but we still managed to catch a matinee of the new Fame movie. Really, it was much better than reviews led me to believe.

Then on to the Hawaiian Fusion restaurant for dinner. I hadn't been there in at leaast 4 years, but the entree I had so long ago impacted me so deeply that I ordered it again. Braised short ribs with a deep and abiding cabernet.

Because I was on doggie duty, S stayed at my place on Saturday night. It was cool to be hosting her for once.

Sunday morning we watched the Fame TV show in reruns. S found some new-to-me channel amongst those in my cable suite lineup called "Centric" that was showing back-to-back episodes. Boy, talk about aging badly. The 80s was such a cheesy decade--the first 5 years, especially.

After babygirl's afternoon walk, Sarah and I headed back to the movie theatre to see "Love Happens," which was fine. I had moments of impatience with it for reasons that I couldn't even really decipher. I always root for Jennifer Aniston. I think that's her charm, the charm of all those actresses who excel at romantic comedies: Renee Zellwegger, Sandra Bullock... you want them to have what they want within that tight little construct. "Love" is not a rom com, per se, but it's definitely a film that will appeal more to women than to men.

Deciding that some local adventure was in order, and because Poe is on the brain in this city right now b/c it's his bicentennial birth year (I think that's the reason), we decided to do something Poe-esque. We got a map of the city and wended our way west to his gravesite. There were hours of daylight left, so it was decidedly not creepy. Fresh flowers adorned the monument.

Pushing our luck somewhat, we went a little farther to the decidedly bad neighborhood that surrounds what was his very narrow, 3-story house. We didn't get out of the car, for sure. S took a quick photo and we peeled out.

We finished up at the City cafe before parting ways. I came home afterward to give the dog her evening walk. By the time the little princess and I returned from our jaunt, Crystal was back home.