Sunday, November 30, 2008

I've been having really shitty luck lately and have been letting it get me down. I've been pretty antisocial the past month.

Lost one job, but have others, and this'll let me have more time to write. Haven't been doing much with writing on account of all the paying work, and this I think has really been what's been getting to me. I'm almost done with my first real stab at nonfiction, hopefully I'll find someone to publish it, then work on revising the novel I wrote last summer and getting a book of poems together that I can tour with next year. In the meantime, I can just model more, which is great fun and pays better than silly real estate, though is less steady. i have two out-of-state shoots in the next two weeks, which means I get to see more of New England, so these are all good things.

I had a wonderful Thanksgiving with DW's family, and I get to see my own personal family for almost a whole week at Christmas. Every day I get another rejection letter from some literary journal that doesn't want any of my poems, but like my former holistic shrink would say, every rejection is one letter closer to the eventual acceptance. Or something.

Give me love, lovelies. Your glitterteeth and camerahearts only blind me with all that glare.

Monday, November 24, 2008

If you've never taken a poetry workshop before, it's normal for most people in one to suck. In a good one, you'll get two or three good people, a couple decent ones, and just one or two laughables. But the one I'm in now, damned if there aren't five or six oh my god! pieces each week, with the remaining 3-4 still being, hey, that's pretty cool!

Makes me feel like shit in a way I want to be good and productive.

Friday, November 21, 2008

The Economy: This Time it's Personal

Every time I start to get used to the idea that I may not be living in what is to an American middle-class kid abject poverty my whole life, along comes said relative abject poverty to knee me in the figurative cervix*.

The development project for which I have been doing the most lucrative and rewarding of my jobs has been suspended indefinitely, which means that yours truly has also been suspended indefinitely.

I did a great job for them, I picked up things I had no training in and excelled in them. The COO was so sorry. She said everyone including the CEO I'd never met loved the work I'd been doing, and if circumstances were not as bad as they could possibly be, she'd hire me full-time in a heartbeat.

What else paints a picture of the cold, random universe than doing something so well, working so hard at it, having everyone appreciate it, and a twist of a butterfly wing causes it to mean nothing? I am not special and no matter how good or smart or talented I am, I am at the mercy of chaos, tossed along some spasmodic dance around the ghost of a strange attractor.

At least maybe now I can write more.

*the literal being non-cancerous, woo-hoo!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Last weekend I went to my first protest in years, the Anti-Prop 8 rally in government center. I went mostly to see Jamie perform. He closed it out and nailed it, mentioning how he wants a condo and a husband and a Doberman named Chaucer, then performing a very well-received poem. It was nice to go to something like this again. I'm such a sap. A few times during the speeches I even teared up, like when they pointed out a old M/M couple in the audience who had been together fifty-three years, and married for four. When did I become such a girl.

Trying new things. I'm working on a non-fiction piece about nude modeling. My workshop, which is awesome and includes Nicole T.D. of the 30/30, seems to like it so far. I've never written nonfiction though, so we'll see how it goes. Last night I finally went to Dave and Brian's Art Night, which, turns out, would have been totally easy for me to go to virtually every week after the Cantab, since Brian De P. lives RIGHT in Central and Art Night is a beast that does not yield to taming until at least one or two AM. This will have to be a reoccurrence.

This weekend I'm going to NYC with Derek for his 30/30 All Stars show in Manhattan at the Nuyorikan Cafe. However, if you're here, you should go to Caleb Cole's opening at The Artist's Foundation from 3-5 on Saturday. I'm definitely going to this show when I get back. It's free and this kid does amazing work.

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Woman Killed by Her Husband's Coffin.

My favorite part is the car that smashed into the hearse was an Alpha Romeo. Too easy? Perhaps.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

I was on Model Mayhem and a banner came up for a millionaire/trophy dating website!

To sign up you have to be either rich/wealthy/successful or attractive/beautiful/sexy. You can choose whether you are a wealthy or beautiful man/woman searching for a wealthy or beautiful man/woman (no, you can't be both at the same time, apparently. No wonder they need this website. These demographics probably never coincide in real life!)

Finally, a dating website that gets down to what's really important in a significant other. While thousands of lonely shmucks still sit filling out personality profiles, here come these brave men and women to tear through the bullshit and get down to the brass tacks of love: looks OR cash money.

Some gems:

You may have worked hard to be where you are today - wealthy, successful and single. You are looking to meet someone who may not have wealth, but have a lot to offer - youth, beauty and personality. You may be young and beautiful, wanting a better life, and looking to date a millionaire....

Some people may think it is superficial to focus only on WEALTH and BEAUTY when finding a mate. But let's face it... it's only human nature to be attracted to these two important qualities.

WEALTH - As the saying goes "Money Makes the World Go Around". Some of us work very hard to make money in order to survive. It is not hard for us to see that those who are wealthy also holds power, commands respect and enjoys a lifestyle of constant pampering. At SeekingMillionaire, we believe wealth is a very important quality in selecting a significant other. Over 50% of all marriages end in divorce because of money or the lack thereof. Love and financial stability are both very important foundations of a lasting relationship. So as they say, why have love only, when you can have love and wealth?

BEAUTY - Beauty is a quality that provides a perceptual experience of pleasure, affirmation, meaning, or goodness. A beautiful person is one who invokes powerful feelings of attraction and emotional well-being. It is not surprising that all of us dream of being with a model, beauty queen or a Hollywood actor. Our website is also designed to cater to beautiful people, with the main goal of match-making those with beauty with those with wealth.

Of course! The divorce rate is soaring because the divorcing couples aren't rich enough! How did we not realize what was at the root of this problem? Thanks, SeekingMillionaire!

What I think is most interesting is these people cannot possibly believe in these contrived rationalizations. They are catering to cynical, "realistic" clientele with this "let's face it" no-nonsense approach, but I bet you $100K/year they are completely cynical about this cynicism, high fiving over the naive rich and beautiful who buy their spurious selling of unapologetic shallowness. Does double cynicism equal sincerity? Do smirks cancel each other out?

Hey, sexy girls join free. Well, it's a back-up plan.

Sunday, November 9, 2008


One second you're joyfully jerking around to crazy techno music with five of your closest friends heading back up to Somerville in the I-93 tunnel, the next you're centrifugally jerking against the door as the car spins out and you crash at 60mph into the wall, alone, together, the six of you, in the post-midnight CFL low-glowing Lynchian tunnel, pointing the wrong way on a freeway in a tunnel right past a blind curve, the air after the cleanly pervasive smack of impact only the burning smell of metal violently bent and the suddenly ominous glow of the CFL tunnel lights, certain that any second the car will explode, or one of your friends' heads will roll off redly fountaining necks, or another car will come careening around the curve and finish the job that you were somehow too deft or lucky to evade for a few spuriously heartening moments.

But the car starts to move again, and the car turns around and drives, and it's making a terrible noise, but after five hundred feet or so the part making the terrible noise falls off, clacking numbly to the street, and the smell of burning ruin remains, but it must be far enough away from the gas tank because you don't blow up, and everyone who wasn't wearing a seatbelt or who has never been in a crash before or who has a phobia of law enforcement is especially shaken up, which is pretty much everyone in the car except you.

You've been this close before though, and closer, and you are familiar with the routine of Near Death, and you look forward to the stoic aftermath and the reflection, and the flatline knowledge that none of it is really in your control, and the thankfulness, and the re-epiphany that whatever you worry about all the time when you walk under the grey sky with your eyes down and fists punched deep into pockets really matters about as much as a fruitfly hangnail.

You wake up early the next morning spooned in with a loved-one, naked as birth, and feel the echoes of your heart beating clear up in your skull, and look forward to the way coffee is about to smell, the extra-sweetness of ricotta, the photoshop brilliance of the leaves and the sky.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

I fear I am growing into that adult who used to show promise. Bitter with a crease between my eyebrows. I say to the kids, "I was so talented at so many things, but unlucky, and nothing came together, and I gave up. Now I'm here. I guess this is enough."

I feel like I've lost my gift without ever even doing anything with it. Is something in me blocking me from success? Am I horrendously unlucky? Or maybe I just don't have it. Why am I so stubborn? Why can't I get over it and just be happy to live and eat food and have sex and watch the sun move up and down.

I wish I didn't want to do something so impossible. I don't know how not to write. Do I want to try to sell out as much as I can to possibly make a living at this? Or do I want to complacently work a job and write in my spare time? Publish is a few small houses here and there, if I'm lucky. Have a quiet life with satisfying bedtimes.

Nothing is moving right now. And the cells in my cervix continue to threaten to give me cancer.

I am that disgusting adult who almost tears up at the music that reminds me of when I was a kid and thought I could do stuff.

Grown girl leaking over Dookie by Green Day. When did this happen? Is this what giving up looks like?

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Took this in Harvard Square last weekend. I dunno. It has something.

I signed up for the last minute for another workshop with Tom Daley this fall. Other participants are Nicole Terez Dutton, Michael Lynch, and Paul Nemser. Good, exciting, and a little intimidating. Thank god though. I've barely written three poems this month. If I really want to release a book in 2009, I've got to get cracking.

I finally got up the nerve to send the outline of my new novel to Janice this week. I'm about thirty pages in. I like it so far, we'll see what she thinks.

Halloween was such an epic adventure. One of those great nights I'm so glad I have sometimes, with multiple plot arcs and dynamic characters and twists and revelations and punctuations. Plus, Williams and I looked like this:

All that time working at Spooky World paid off, I guess.

On the personal front, around this time marks my and DW's historic one-year anniversary. I hear I'm supposed to get a lobster sometime in the next week. What a lucky girl am I.