Monday, February 21, 2011

the one where rain determines the mood

(note: came to some conclusions while I was sleeping about what this space is for me. It is for me. I'm going to stop apologizing for the posts and for myself.)

1. Today is the shift. Girl goes from me to her dad.

2. She still sleeps. Day off from school for Presidents Day.

3. I write essays in my head, bad essays.

4. The last time I went on a road trip alone, I drove from Ohio to Seaside, Fla., for my niece's wedding. The best part was driving the back roads through Alabama, a light rain falling, scent of summer filling my little car. I sensed magical creatures in the country alongside the roads.

5. What if you do all this work, select the poems and bits of fiction, write the essays, beg friends and teachers to write recommendations, and no school accepts you?

(then they don't accept me, and I move on to plan A, the original plan, which was to find freelance work, continue writing on novels and gathering poems, maybe sign up to substitute (despite girl's insistence that I not). if no one accepts me, it will not be a death sentence. it will be an answer to a question.)

6. "todotoday": a little more laundry, shower, get Girl to her dad's (which means rousing her, gently nudging, suggesting, folding, packing), continue working on essays (like I've even started), keep eye on weather, run to grocery store for half gallon of milk, orange juice, athletic socks to replace the ones with holes in the heels, use the abs wheel, use the stepper or [gasp] even get out the NordicTrack........

7. This summer, even if no one accepts me and I can't use the excuse of a residency to pack up my car and drive out of state, I will pack up my car and drive out of state, alone if I can, though it would be all right to take my Girl with me if she wanted to come. I don't know where I'll go if I have no educational destination, though every destination is educational. Maybe home to Texas? Maybe up to Canada? Maybe north to the coast of Maine? Maybe back to New Mexico?

8. Heat spilling from vents is too hot.

9. The posts on Facebook become more and more political - unions, public education, Planned Parenthood, PBS & NPR, the National Endowment for the Arts. I read the posts and follow the links, make comments of my own and get too caught up. The certainty that we are impotent makes my finger tips tingle. Still, I write my representatives (letters never acknowledged), make phone calls (never returned), share information.

10. If I didn't think my right knee would give out, I'd thumb my nose at all these negatives and dance through my house to Gipsy Kings.

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