the links entry

I don't know what to write but was told to do so. The semester is over and it is a huge relief. Here is what I have been working on, school-wise, for the past month or so:





PUBLISHING: 20+ page outline on magazine concept, JUBILEE: the adventure parenting magazine. outline contained financial outlook for a three year span, marketing strategies, demographics, advertisers and pricing, layout, workforce outline and timeline of production, budget, etc.



LATIN AMERICAN NARRATIVE: a short story written in the style of Jorge Luis Borges, an Argentinian writer from the first half of the century who had a very particular style, and who used a lot of labyrinth and mirror imagery, and never used simile or metaphor, and did a lot with playing with identity, reality, and plains of existence. The short story was about 10 pages, with the accompanying essay about three pages.



WRITING POETRY: at least twelve edited poems in a chapbook, complete with introduction. I also made a smaller chapbook for one poem I'd written, due to it's literary format: It is a poem written in the form of a glossary, and I made it a quarter-size zine, with each glossary term (which were sailing terms, etc., formulated to both explain what the objects, movements, etc. are in the literal sense, and also how they relate to the motional state of the sailor, Tania Aebi) on it's own page, an introductory page explaining who Aebi is and was, and the cover was a picture of a basic sailboat with all the parts labelled, so that following the glossary is a bit easier.



We also had a poetry reading at the Most Wanted Fine Arts Gallery. I think it went well, everyone sounded great and their edits were strong. We read with Mark Neison's Creative Nonfiction class, which I am taking next semester. I was told later that I have a good reading voice, it's very captivating. ooh-la-la! I also made Soupie blush pretty hard when I read a few poems I'd written for him. Not "sexy" poems, but I think that true love poems are much sexier than poems trying to be sexy, anyway, and besides it's a public school forum. And besides I don't write sexy poems, I write poems about dead people and love.



I know what I got in Poetry (97% on my final project, 95% over-all, which I am writing just to gloat to my family members who read this, and friends of Soupie's who I don't know), and I know I got A's in my other glasses, but don't know the percentages or what my final project grades were. Despite grades, however, I am very pleased with my output this semester. Especially considering I did not think I was a poet any longer, and was balancing a relationship (which actually does require a lot of work and commitment, even though prior to this one I would have claimed otherwise), caring for a puppy, and working full-time, oh, and living at two different houses. pat on the back, Carolyne, big ups.




In other news, my roommate is officially moving out. We've started interviewing people, and the pickin's are pretty slim. I have actually liked everyone so far, but my other two roommates think I am being too easy. Joe at one point said, "you talk to these people and ask them questions and it doesn't even seem like you're judging them!" But he and Adam did make up a few good points, like that they may be nice, but imagine living with them, how awkward it will be in the morning waking up to this person, how we might unknowingly join against that person, or mainly just all three of us get along so well together so that this third person who isn't quite like us cannot blend in well. The one girl who fit in great with us, and is a really awesome candidate, has two cats and therefore is most likely eliminated, unfortunately. It is a shame, as she is wonderful and would fit well in our house dynamic, but the dog freaks out and even though she is saying now that she could keep them in her room, it wouldn't be fair to the cats or to her, and it wouldn't be fair to the dog to keep him from always having to stay in my room, or even moreso, on a leash, because at least with zoe when he did get out of my room he played a bit but wasn't murderous.



On the same note, in an undisclosed way, I started on a tangent with my mother on Muslim fundamentalists. In Canada, a woman was murdered by her Muslim community for disgracing her family, which could mean something such as going out on a date with a man of whom they disapprove. Even something such as adultery is not cause for murder, in my opinion. But because it was in Canada, the Canadian government is trying the people for murder. Rightfully so, again in my opinion, but then there is the sense of whether or not they really wanted to murder her or truly felt it was there duty to God. In Saudi Arabia, however, a woman was gang raped, and then the community stoned her for putting herself in a situation where she was alone with men. They would ordinarily execute the woman, but in this case the Saudi Arabian government said they would not execute her, but would instead find an alternative means of punishment. Woah. I was discussing it with Evan later, and he said that my argument was problematic, and was also a bit discriminatory because it was anti-Muslim and not anti- the governments that rule by fundamentalist beliefs. Regardless, though, a woman in Canada is dead, though the difference is that in Saudi Arabia, a Muslim-ruled government, or for that matter a religion-ruled government, it is the government sanctioning the punishment. I talked about this with Michele Kort during our interview: how feminism is for women wordwide, regardless of whether they are part of a religious organization that sanctions their mistreatment. Abuse is still abuse, rape is still rape, and murder is still murder.





Oh, and this past weekend I went to a fancy-pants party in Presco, PA. I went with Evan and Ovens, and holy crap was this house big. I had intended originally on wearing my coctail dress, a classy number from the revered establishment Frederick's of Hollywood, but got nervous when we were all waiting around at Evan's mom's house for the Ovens to get dressed and for Soupie to decide which of his brothers outfits to wear. They were all dressed very conservatively, in v-neck sweaters, collared shirts, and pants. I had on sneakers, hot pink fishnet thigh-highs, and a black shimmery halter party dress. The neck was VERY low. So, I put on my party dress, my favorite fall-back, a strapless black dress with red polka dots, and a corset-like back with black lace and it comes down about to the knee. Very much a party dress. So we all went, all dressed up in our Saturday best, and went to THE BIGGEST HOUSE WE'VE EVER SEEN IN OUR LIVES. It looked like a giant illuminated cube, which it essentially was. Inside the 21,000 square foot home was over 1,000 units (or whatever) of electricity (apparently the average large house has 150-200 max), and 6 really nice furnaces. There was also a basketball court, six or seven water bubblers, a 5,000 square foot apartment downstairs for guests, a bar, and who knows what else, on top of a hill in the woods. Beautiful, but a bit much. Read Soupie's blog for his experience in the house, full of oil and breaking things. I was mainly hungry and overwhelmed. Also, as it turned out, I would have fit in very well with all the drunk middle-aged housewives bopping about on the dance floor, had I worn the original dress. As it were, I felt a bit under-dressed, but at least it's my favorite dress.



I sort of want to write about my mall experiences the other day(s), about being completely ambushed and all but forced into buying products, and how when I went with Evan yesterday, not a single person approached us. Also about the insult tactics of sales people lately. But mainly, had I the energy and the desire, I would write about one company who accosted me, a curling iron company, who showed me a straightener to make me pretty, and when I explained that I like my curly hair, they recurled it and said, see in ten seconds you can have nicer curls (ps I have very nice curls, thankyouverymuch, and my hair was a bit messy because I had been partying in it all night, did not brush or wash it, and it was goddamn snowing out. not that I even care). She wanted to see a curly-haired person a curling iron. UGH! some people.