bits and pieces

All registered for classes, and I’ll be receiving my teaching assignment soon. Holy crap!
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While running the other day, I saw a funeral procession made up entirely of bicyclists. It was so beautiful -- yet so damn sad -- to watch.
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I’m now moonlighting at The MFA Chronicles, where I’ll be blogging about my experiences as a first-year MFA student. Ch-ch-check it out.
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I think my mother had a happy mother's day. She spent most of the day re-planting shrubbery on our property line. Me? I spent most of the day watching her, and realizing how useless I am when it comes to gardening. Apparently, not all rakes are of the leaf-piling persuasion. Whoops.

On Playing the Harmonica and Doing Other Things Badly

The odds are good that I am the most musically-challenged individual you will ever meet. As a product of a private Catholic elementary school education whose music program consisted only of a worn-down piano and a couple of chimes, I was never acquainted with music in the way my friends and younger siblings were in public school: with shiny new recorders, pianos with working keys, and the opportunity to perform in well-attended spring concerts. Sure, I sang in the children’s choir every Sunday, but at that age everyone sings well, even if they’re off key. And when I eventually did pick up an instrument – the guitar in the third grade – I was told right off the bat that my fingers were not made for strumming, and that they acted as if they had a mind of their own. Needless to say, I was not devastated to let drop music off my educational radar.

Fairly recently, I was again reminded of how musically inept I am. Not purposely or maliciously, of course, but just enough to make me reconsider my artistic priorities for just a second. I love going to my cousins’ home, where every meeting is accompanied with music in some form, whether it is jamming to my cousin’s band’s new songs or polka dancing on Wigilia or even the giddiness that breaks out when a relative plays the accordion for a song or two (man, it’s too Polish for our own good!). I guess you can say that just hanging out with such a fun family is enough to inspire me to try out music again. This, of course, is true. But I also believe that there is a little part of me that feels like a moocher sometimes, taking in all this music without anything to contribute to the whole.

So, here I am, acquainting myself with my new Lee Oskar diatonic harmonica: favoriting how-to videos on YouTube and practicing drawing and blowing notes just loud enough to bother the dog. I can’t say that I am a natural. What I can say, however, is that I actually played both the Twelve-Bar Blues and the harp solo from the Beatles’ “Love Me Do” today, and what I played actually sounded how they were supposed to. For this moment of recognition, this novice musician is grateful.

P.S.

I almost titled this post “On Training for a Half-Marathon and Doing Other Things Badly,” but realized that I am a much worse musician than I am runner, although that isn’t saying much. I finally hit the ten mile mark on Wednesday, and an old woman I passed along the way let me know that I looked like hell. On the bright side, I convinced myself out of throwing up during or after the run, although I was pretty nauseous for the rest of the day. Awesome.

In the interim...

Apologies for the recent absence of posts -- sadly, life sometimes gets in the way. Here's what I've been up to since the break:

- Visited the University of Minnesota - Twin Cities for its MFA program's recruitment week. Met some really cool people, had a Mary Tyler Moore moment, and got really lost in some parts of Minneapolis. Despite my misadventures, however, I ended up falling in love with the program, and I am thrilled to announce that I will be attending U of M in the fall for poetry! I feel very lucky.

- Survived that brutal March 13th nor'easter. Luckily, we didn't lose power for too long, nor did we lose any trees on our property, but threats of our sub-pump malfunctioning kept us up for many a night.

- Ran my first 5K race with friends. Despite wiping out within the first fifty meters (I'm still working on that whole coordination-on-land thing), I'm happy to say that I finished in one piece! I'm running another 5K this Saturday, all in preparation and anticipation for my half marathon in May.

- Wrote a lot. I think I've finally got this whole writing-schedule-thing down pat.

- And, lastly, worked a lot of odd jobs. Man, I can't wait for grad school.

turning over a newleaf

I'm honored to announce that my poem "My Father on Snakebites" can currently be found in newleaf, an international journal of fiction and poetry. A rad magazine edited by really rad individuals. Thanks!

just sayin'.

Hey Katy Perry,

I think you misinterpreted the sentiment of the lyrics in your cover of Fountains of Wayne's "Hackensack." Last time I checked, no one sang this melodramatically about sticking around Hackensack. What makes the song so sad is the fact the girl is NEVER coming back, and the persona knows it.

Also, have you ever even been to Hackensack? Just sayin'.

these shoes are made for running...

It's official: I've committed to run the Maryland Half Marathon this May to benefit the Marlene and Stewart Greenebaum Cancer Center at the University of Maryland.

I'll admit that this is a huge (and slightly insane) step towards becoming an "athlete" again. After having to stop swimming competitively -- my first love -- my freshmen year of college, and consequently having to quit rowing my sophomore year due to shoulder problems, I've found myself feeling pretty listless about being active. Instead, I grew to love sleeping in on weekdays, catching up with friends, and watching marathons of Law & Order on the couch.

Of course, there are only so many episodes of Law & Order you can watch before you become pathetic (i.e. when you realize you've seen most of these episodes). For that, I've decided to give the couch a rest, and get moving on running one of the longest races of my life. In the meantime, I'll be using this blog to keep me honest. Stay tuned.

So, this is what Purgatory feels like.

For the first time in my life, I'm in this place in which all I can do is wait. I can't move forward without hearing from my future prospects, but I can't look backward either without getting extremely nostalgic and down.

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Strangely, I've found relief in odd and unexpected ways. I've purged much of my wardrobe. I'm learning how to play the guitar and recorder. I've been getting to the gym more often, and I'm especially appreciative of the greeting my dog gives me every morning when I wake up, something I missed while I was away at school. Despite all of this anxiety I've been harboring, I can say that I am happy. Sure, there is always room for improvement and personal goals to be met, but I can also be thankful for the calmness, the stasis, for moments like these.
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Man, retrospectives are such a downer!
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New website design launch. Man, I missed being a geek.