Started out the new year by jumping around, I should have known then that it would be a good year.
Reunited with friends at AWP and did a reading for Susan and my mini-chapbook; even the Grammys were worth watching.
Moved to Madison and rode my bike everywhere and only fell off once. Taught my first college classes. Now getting ready to travel again.
2013 will begin Chicago, London, West Africa. I think it has a lot of potential.
Upon my return from VN I thought things would work out without my necessarily needing to play an active role, kind of passivity I have gotten upset with other people over. I cut myself some slack. Then I began applying and applying for jobs.
Prospects: teaching Expository Writing to freshmen at Lakeland College in Sheboygan, WI, and teaching inmates at a minimum security correctional facility in Gordon, WI.
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| Gordon PO |
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| Duluth (45 mi. away) |
At work, I get into an argument with another server about the way in which I roll silverware. She tells me the way I do it provides a greater chance for them to come undone. I suppose she is right. And yet. When I look the pieces all lined up, I know they are not going to.
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| Waiting for them to get done throwing snowballs |
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| Nana |
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| Ted being Eastery |
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| Broccoli salad, rutabaga, hot pineapple pudding, cauliflower, vanilla vodka, caffeine-free Diet Coke, the antique plates, the good silver. |
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| Devil’s Lake |
I have farther to travel
than exists in actual miles
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| Creek of honey |
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| J’adore CLEO |
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| Rdg The Salt Ecstasies |
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| They were fast! |
But, alas, another cobbled-together job has come to an end and now I find in front of me the only road left, the Real Job, the job that I can find and then relax, the job that I can be at Peace with. I have a new Degree and no debt, and also no money which leaves me feeling like I am sitting on one of those little cloths I was selling, my butt hanging over the sides. It is very well-constructed, but how does it get off the ground?
A moment can move on and still stay with us, it’s one of the most beautiful things in life, Robert Hass’ Mississippi John Hurt lines in the poem about his brother, Ryan Gosling honoring the spirit of Patrick Swayze in his recent film, and in a thirty-three year-old, not-even-really girl anymore, back to the drawing board again, or perhaps there, officially, for the first time, thinking back on what she has to give to the next phase of life.
In Istanbul post-undergrad/pre-graduate school I taught English, wrote in my journal, and watched the O.C.
…and the little book I came across last night that reminded me of those days. Maybe it’s a non-sequitor, but I just don’t want to forget her.
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| Link |
Time to start looking for what’s out there. No pressure in a bad way. I’m looking everywhere…
He threw the maps up on the dash; when we saw the Mississippi he knew I knew my way home.
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| LaCrosse, WI |
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| The whole gang… |
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| Roses from my boss I don’t know, maybe it was the roses… |
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| Y-Go-By? |
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| Me |
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| Pine cone |
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| Iris from mom’s garden |
Wow, it has been a year since I landed in HCMC and added Saigon to Ramona Forever. Whoever is still following this blog since then, thank you, thank you, my friend.
What a year. Now a year ago I am awake my first day there, typing on this blog on the computer in the Van Trang, scared to go outside, texting Rufus. Knowing what I know now, I should have been more scared to stay in the Van Trang.
Like so many things, including this time of life, if it were possible to know how it all turned out, I mean how non-threatening it all was (what did I think was going to happen to me?) I just would have loved all of the good stuff even more, one text to a friend that gets a call.
So it is still cold in Wisconsin, it is supposed to freeze tonight actually, Memorial Day weekend. I really feel as though I have had a whole winter, and I got home in March. Should be interesting to see what happens next year…
and just for old time’s sake:
About me practice, spring ’11:
Gardener/lawn mower, bridesmaid, Master of Fine Arts, Adult Health Literacy Instructor, moth, kitten, and seal lover, poet.
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| Dad’s Cecropia moth |
Birthday highlights: Crivitz/sledding/beer with dad and Ted and riding shotgun reading my poems,
the road trip with mom, the hot tub before the reading, Nick coming (and being on time :)),
the reading. Jevin going first and making me not nervous at all. The roses from Gretchen and Matt. Drinking Fat Squirrel with mom in the hotel room. Those comfortable beds.
The defense–how can I say it?–now I just want to be myself.
Harlow smiling. Jim telling me that he had been in a bad mood. Dancing with Sierra to “Piece of my Heart,” and her sitting at the bar eating pizza.
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| Sierra and Javi |
When I woke up you were already gone. Went to the park to think about what you’d told me.
Listened to the song “See the Sky About to Rain.” And today it has been raining, through all the ins and outs of me.
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| South Park |
Watched BIG FISH tonight, went to a bar called Diamond Dave’s, and afterwards for a walk down by a lake. My dad pointed out this crane and let me sneak up on it from three docks away with my camera knowing all the while it was a decoy.
Ritz crackers with melted cheese. I should have stayed longer.
Leaving, even the breeze is amazing. I love it here at my dad’s house.
And I remember this time I walked across a beach to a high dive, climbed the ladder, and something inside me said “go off backwards” so i lined up my toes up on the edge just like in the Olympics and did it.
You should know that I stole your Bon Iver cd but the joke was on me because I also left my laptop in Ted’s minivan and then destroyed my iPod with water.
What have I done, not done, it is all so crystallized, melodramatic, senseless. For some reason I keep thinking of the time we talked about Aspen trees, so here is a picture of some at my dad’s.
Hope all is well w/ you, your Robert Lowell glasses and your half-cafs.
Weird to think that when you read this I’ll be on the other side of the planet, but it’s just proximity.
AngelfromMontgomery et al. 
