mimsy and outgrabe

I'm going to participate in the National Poetry Month hullabaloo by joining this <<<< circus, The Sixth Annual Big Poetry Giveaway, because 1) contrary to the loner/cranky poet stereotype, I like joining things 2) I like attempts to get people to read more poetry and 3) I'm curious to see how this turns out. If you keep a blog and you're a poet and you'd like to participate, see Kelli Russell Agodon's Book of Kells post for the dirt on how to join in. If you'd like to participate in MY Big Poetry Giveaway, here's what you have to do: Leave a comment on this post with your name and email address (you should probably use the [at] format instead of the @ format so that spam-bots won't suck up your email address and overload your account with nonsense about discount handbags and/or sexual performance enhancers).  Hell, leave a comment on ANY of my posts during the month of April and I'll include you in the drawing.  What

This semester I think I've come as close to quitting my profession as I'm going to get.  I mean, I won't , because, first and foremost, I need a job that helps support my family, but ALSO because I've invested a LOT of freaking time and effort into doing this particular job, this career, and how does one just walk away from all of that? I suppose it would be one thing if I'd made Full Professor and I'd jumped through all the hoops I was supposed to jump through, but I haven't, and so: How do I leave behind all the hard work to get where I am, with just a tiny bit more to go? (I apply for Full Professor at the end of next year.) This feeling, this closeness-to-quitting, stems from more of the same, not enough hours in the day, but it differs from previous years because, perhaps for the first time, it's not really tinged with resentment. I mean, sure, did I grumble yesterday about my students obsessing over grades on papers but not really connect

Z-pacs are the shit, y'all. I spent much of this week in a fog induced by a mystery illness that has something to do with the ear-nose-and-throat but wasn't definitively strep throat, or a sinus infection, or the flu. I was fed up by Wednesday, however, and went to the doctor. He gave me a prescription and said, "I think it's a virus but you can have this just in case you get fed up and want to try something." I was like, I'mfedupthat'swhyI'minheredude, but just in my head, because, well, manners. Anyway. I tried to be patient for about three hours, or the length of a nap (and I NEVER nap), and then I had the damn thing filled at the local pharmacy and took the 2-pill antibiotic blast by 4 p.m. By Thursday morning it was like I was a new woman. I know you're not supposed to take antibiotics all willy-nilly but good freakin' lord, I'm glad Dr. Nonchalance gave me that script or I wouldn't be writing anything this morning. L

This week has been strange. I met with my Monday/Wednesday classes three days in a row, kind of. That is, I HELD class three days in a row, because on Tuesday we were supposed to make up a snow day, but only 6 students showed up to my creative writing class and a whopping 3 attended my intro to the novel class. Students must really like my classes! And then we were snowed out yesterday by another 4 or 8 inches. And I was really happy. Because lately, work is more and more a place where I'm continually behind and unable to complete the tasks for which I'm responsible. And that's fairly demoralizing and soul-sucking. On a more optimistic note, it's really gorgeous outside this morning: the wind is almost nonexistent, so all of yesterday's snowfall is still covering the tree branches and the sun is shining and the air is extremely fucking cold and crisp. It's lovely.  Other good news: Fabulous Beast was a semi-finalist for the Alice James Book Aw