The crows stayed on through much of the afternoon, celebrating their victory.Inman watched them anytime their eyes were open, observing closely their deportment and method of expression. And when his eyes were closed, he dreamed he lived in a kind of world where if a man wished it he could think himself into crow form, so that, though filled with dark error, he still had the power to either fly from enemies or laugh them away. Then, after awhile of passing time in such wise, Inman watched night fall, and it seemed to him as if the crows had swelled out to blacken everything.
--Cold Mountain, Charles Frazier
It looks like I'm finally going to start paying off my student loans. The chirpy woman who called me to say that my deferment had passed and my account was overdue---well, she and I worked out a little deal. She kept throwing out numbers ("Can you afford to pay this much a month? No? Ok! How about this much? No?")
She was so nice. I'm going to start making payments in July. I'm on the 20 year plan. This should be no problem because that novel is coming along just swimmingly and I'm sure an agent is going to discover me sitting here in my apartment verysoon. Or maybe a Big Publisher will just love the way I make foam on a latte and ask me to send him my work.
In other words, I need to be sending my work out. I need a blitzkreig send out! The spray buckshot and see what sticks approach. (Note to self: apply this to dating as well.) I need to spew pages into the world and see what flutters back my way.
That's the plan.
I just ate two bananas and it felt kind of decadent.
Dear Mel Gibson;
I saw your movie "The Passion of the Christ" recently. It was pretty much what I expected. (Although I kept wondering to myself, why did "The last Temptation of Christ" cause such an uproar? Because it was art and this wasn't?) There were some parts I liked--the focus on Mary's mother/son relationship that trumped the whole God thing. He was her son, flesh and blood. That was painful. So my beef with you today is a rather minor point. Near the beginning of the film Satan is addressing Christ and a snake crawls out from under his robe. Mel, did it have to be a snake? Could you have been more inventive? If we were workshopping a short story I'd underline that scene twice and say "Cliche!"
I mean, why not a nasty bunny? Haven't the snakes gotten enough grief?
Sincerely,
Trissy
Yesterday Cali and I walked Oak Canyon and finally saw the elusive fire poppy! They are delicate and light orange with a striking green center. A beautiful flower. But what makes them really exciting is that they only appear after a fire. So we may not see them in the park for years to come. I also saw Chinese houses, lots of wild hyacinth (still) something brown and orchid-looking that I couldn't identlfy. My feet are still filthy from the ash rich dirt, but the fire has made the contrast between the living and the dead quite gorgeous. Green on black with little purple, orange, red bits. Lovely.
In opening one door I have to close another. So I wonder: when I look back, which will I regret more?
But O, My Dog, I passed the CSET. Even the math and science! Vaca Sagrada!
Is it "dreamed" or "dreamt"?
Dear Patricia,
Your message was forwarded to me. I regret to inform you that
International Programs does not allow students to miss any part of the
Mexico-BCLAD program. If you intend to participate in the 2004-2005
Mexico-BCLAD program you must attend the entire program which starts June 21 at
San Diego State University. We do not approve late arrivals. I'm sorry.
There are no exceptions.
The program begins with a most important opportunity for you to
interact with the 2003-2004 participants at SDSU who will showcase the program
for you. They will be presenting their portfolios that week and this
will give you a big picture of what lies ahead in the program. In
addition, very important academic information is reviewed that you cannot
miss. Please feel free to contact me, however, I cannot approve a late
arrival.
Sincerely,
blah blah blah
What does this mean? A terrible time of discernment for me. Do I go to Mexico and forfeit Italy with my family--a family vacation that we will talk about and remember for years? Or do I go to Italy and forget Mexico, or put it off for a year? Do I get my credential at Sac State?
Do I forget the teaching thing and do the thing I really want to do. Write. Do I commit a year to it, wholeheartedly.
Oh, I hate this.
Getting on Southwest, Oakland to San Diego, the guy taking the boarding passes askes me how I'm doing.
"Well," I say. "How are you?"
He rips another stub, hands me my half. "Livin the dream."
I had a homeopathic consultation on Tuesday. It was 2 hours long and consisted of many questions about my emotions, my body, my dreams, my thoughts, what i whisper to myself inside. It was cathartic. I cried a bit. I tried not to think about all of the students looking at me, tried just to focus on what I was saying, what I was being asked. I spoke about my frustration, about feeling tethered to this condition, how it is weighing me down when I want to be free and fly away. How frustrating it is not to know if I will ever be well. If I will be blind. If could do something to fix it all.
They are going to make a potion for me. In a bottle with two big X's. And I will drink it and be well.
Today,a customer who seems normal but is actually hideously high maintenance and pathologically needy, asked me to make a new label for the cinnamon jar. Theis after making a few changes to her order, asking what the "Please Sample " press pot was (it was labeled. I told her "It's Aged Sulawesi." "Is it coffee?" she asked. It so clearly was coffee. She is tiresome.)and just taking up too much of my time.
So when she finally held up the cinnamon container and said, "Can you change the label on this? I can't ever read it." I told a coworker, "I am going to make damn sure that that label is never changed."
And that is my happy tale of passive aggression.
This morning, a chubby, nondescript fella stood in front of my register for a long time, thinking about what to order. When he finally decided, he asked a little sheepishly for plain coffee.
"Oh well," he said. "Dare to be dull."
I'm going to take that as my mantra.
The Meadow re-opened today, for the first time since the fire. Oddly, all of the birdwatchers that we saw out there were men over 50. Birds that we saw:
a very exciting Lazuli Bunting, which is a very colorful bird. Donna made lots of shocked/whimpering/excited noises when she saw that guy. I didn't actually see him.
two Ravens stealing fluff from a red-tailed hawk's nest. We thought they had stolen the chicks. We were sad. We were also wrong.
Bullock's Orioles.
Violet-green swallows.
Cooper's hawk.
Red-tailed hawk.
House Finch.
Nuttal's Woodpecker (hanging upside down perpendicular to the ground, and banging away at a tree. So cool.)
Black Shouldered Kite
Lark Sparrow ( which I don't really remember but Donna does.)
It was wonderful to be in the meadow and to see how much it's all coming back after the fire.
My goal is to see a fire poppy by summertime.
Wildflowers seen today at Mission Trails:
Wild hyacinth (tons and tons!)
California Poppy
Purple Nightshade
Lupine ( i think)
Fringed Indian Pink ( the most exciting, elusive one--just a wee patch)
Twining Snapdragon ( maybe. really unsure about this one.)
tomorrow Ill go back and take pictures...
Tonight at work, Link told me to come out on the patio and look at a moth. "It's big," he said. I got excited. On the cement was a lovely gray moth, maybe two inches across at its widest point, with intricate black etchings on its wings. I bent to look at it. I had no idea, of course, what kind of moth it was, but a guy at a nearby table pronounced it a Sphinx Moth. If the wings open, he told me, they are rose colored. I wanted to see that so i gently nudged him. The moth trembled and opened his wings just a bit for me. He stumbled onto my finger. He seemed decidedly unwell. Maybe he was near death. Maybe he just needed to find a moth to love so he could die. At any rate he was lovely.
Later, drinking Phoenix eyes tea, Anthony suggested that the moth was a sign of some kind.
"A Sphinx moth," he said "And Phoenix tea. Hmmm."