Well, y’all certainly…

Well, y'all certainly are a diverse bunch. So far votes have come in for:

  • God's Body
  • Pre-Med
  • thoughts before going to bed, alone
  • commuting
  • letter
  • just a haiku
  • Chorus
  • Time as a Funhouse Mirror, Fractured
  • Jewelled Memories
So far, no two votes for the same poem. :-) Well, maybe there'll be more consensus as the day progresses. I think I probably don't want to choose one of the really sexual ones; this is for an Indian site that's profiling me, and I'm already sending them "Minal in Winter", so I think that's probably enough sex. :-) Maybe I'll send them the top three poems and let them pick one.

I'm a bit tired today; got up at 5 to grade. Almost finished! Didn't stay up too late last night, though a bit. Kevin came over and we ordered pizza. We got a Cajun pizza, with chicken instead of shrimp 'cause he doesn't like seafood...and then it came with fish on it too! That wasn't on the menu -- they just decided to add fish and pine nuts (odd choice, that), apparently. Good thing he was feeling sick and not really hungry, I guess. :-) Good talk. I was starting to feel vaguely insecure again; he's good at reassuring me. You'd think after this long....ah, never mind. Y'all know I *don't* know better at this point. :-)

I really can't believe that it's been eight years. Or almost eight years. We don't know when our anniversary is, y'know. We think we met about a month and a half before Kirsten's graduation, which would make it late April or early May, but we're just not sure. So every year I pick a convenient date to celebrate. Definitely makes it easier years when we're living apart and trying to coordinate schedules and plane flights. :-) Sometimes we go with Lisette's birthday (April 20th); sometimes May Day (May 1st) ('cause it's a good excuse to have a party). I'll probably do a small party this year -- it's a bit odd because the semester ends the Thursday before, so I'm not sure who will still be around. Maybe just a tea party.

Okay, I'm just babbling. It's being half-awake. I don't think I have time to make more tea before I leave, which is too bad. My stomach's feeling a bit odd -- it's tea plus cold Cajun pizza, I guess. Yummy, but weird.

Have a good Monday, munchkins.

7:55 p.m. Sleepy sleepy sleepy! This despite the fact that I dozed for an hour or so around 5 p.m. I'm having a bit of a hard time staying awake, but Jed is calling soonly, and I really do want to talk to him, so I'm going to be awake-Mary Anne, yes I am.

Coherent-Mary Anne might be a bit much to ask for.

And still the stunning lack of consistency. More poem votes have come in for:

  • You'll Understand When You're Older, Dear
  • What do you know of love or faith?
  • Unabashed Paean
  • Last Night
  • Thoughts before Going to Bed, Alone
  • Cobalt Blue
  • in the dark, alone
Still no repeats. Which makes me think that I am an exceedingly erratic poet. Which I suppose is okay, since to be honest, I don't really work at the poetry at all. If it improves over time (which I'm not sure it does), it happens because I'm working at becoming a better fiction writer and some of that slops over. And I may start working at becoming a better essay writer soon, and some of that may slop over too. But I don't really want to work at the poetry, or at this journal. They're both just for me, in some sense. I give myself license to be boring or repetitive or fixated or maudlin in both places, and if I occasionally spend a few minutes crafting a line or two of poetry or journal, that's purely because I feel like it at the time, not because I'm consciously working to improve, hone, shape, etc.

Okay, wake up Mary Anne. Eat some bread pudding. You like bread pudding. It's yum yum good. All that lovely sugar and starch (which will put you right to sleep, of course)...

Reread Pratchett's Hogfather this afternoon. Heehee. Funny man.

G'night, all.

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