the human interest

for those interested parties:

marilyn and I still have not resolved the moment of cruelty that has had me slam the door shut. we've tried, but I am on it. I am deep in the hole of anger. I cannot seem to get out. I don't seem to mind the darkness. At least I can do anything in here that I like, without being told how to do it the "right" way.

I've decided to wait a year to go to grad school. And I'm going to apply to the Iowa School of Writing first and foremost. In the meantime, I'm going to take the GRE, organize my writing, submit my short stories, and finish my novel.

My goal of printing my writing out: done. Finished it on Thursday. The universe conspired to make it less difficult than it was going to be--after all, I have no printer, for starters. diane insisted I print it at her place, which was really excellent of her. and it is a glorious thing. it is thick, all of its edges line up perfectly like as a stack it's one unit of measurement. It needed one of those black clips with the metal clamps. it was almost sexy. I went out that night and showed it off to everyone at the bar who would listen to me. people tried to read it. I said, no, no, just look at it, don't read it... it's just a pile of papers, but it's all the words I've ever written about this story, and look how many pages it is [65, single spaced].

I am going to Prague. hell or highwater, or whatever. I'm there.

I get it now, all there is to do about things is to fucking do something.

I don't have a date for Valentine's day for the first time in thirteen years and I'm actually happy. I don't even have plans that day. I usually babysit, but they are going out of town. I might do whatever I like. I might read. I might knit. I might make myself a new pair of earrings. I might go to bed early and have a long restful sleep. it is all too exciting to contemplate.

every day at siena seems to get more tolerable, and I'm not sure if it's because I've given up on getting mad anymore, or because I've been so hungover most of these last few days that I am less likely to get easily angered. also, I have a regularly rotating cast of regulars who come to keep me company and they make the day after day syndrome not only palatable but pleasureable.

at this point, no news is good news in the boys department.

there are many times when I feel like everything is perfect right now, this way, and that thought has been happening more and more lately. It's funny, when there's no one to answer to but yourself, it's amazing what you can do. there's no one else to blame for why my shit isn't getting done, there's just me.