Wednesdays Always Sneak Up On Me

So I know I didn't make an actual post last Wednesday, so first I must apologize for that.
I'm sorry.
Now that we've gotten that out of the way,  I will recount to you the most interesting parts of these past two weeks in no particular order (mostly because I have no idea what I'm going to remember, and when I'm going to remember it):




1. I had my poem analyzed and critiqued by my writing workshop.

So here's the thing. I write poetry in fits and starts, becoming the most active poet when my emotions are at their highest, be they good emotions, bad emotions or just very strong emotions that I need to expel from my mind so that I can continue on with my day without people asking me why I'm making a funny face (It's just my face, you guys!). A few days before I had to submit my poem to the class for them to take home and analyze (and then bring back the following week, which I'll get to), I had no poem to submit yet, because I hadn't really written anything in a while. Then at work one day I had the impulse to write about something (*air of mystery*) that had been bothering me for quite a long while which I would refuse to confront with an honest view of the situation. I then wrote my masterpiece, edited it a few times every time I fell into a "spewing emotion in a productive way" mood, and then submitted it to the class. A few things happened after I printed out the 18 copies to hand out to the class

1. I realized I didn't want to share this poem with both strangers and people I knew.
2. I had no other poem to submit and class was about to start.
3. The poem was not something I wanted people to talk in front of me about.
4. I still really liked the poem despite these facts.

So the poem got submitted and the subsequent week it was discussed in class while I sat quietly, taking notes on the suggestions the students had. Everyone was very nice and gave constructive feedback, as well as praise. But by the time they finished critiquing the poem, I was completely finished with the poem. I was not finished in the way of "Oh yes, this is perfect, no editing necessary", but rather "I need to lay this poem to rest, or at least not deal with it for a long, long while". I finally grew tired of dwelling on the subject matter my piece was about after a handful of students had dissected the situation word by word, line by line. I was done with the emotions that rattled in my heart, be it guilt, rage, hate, a grudge, love, obsession, regret...All that was left was exhausted acceptance. I was done. I didn't feel the need to deal with the feelings I had been dealing with for far too long. It was hardly anything serious, it was just something I couldn't seem to let go of until it was talked out in an academic and curious manner by people with bright minds and good intentions. And that felt good, to finally not care about the material any more. 

2. I have been planning my future excursions for February and April Break. 

So in a week and a half, Bates College will release it's students for a week into the wild. I, being a West Coaster who does not find travelling thousands of miles by plane to go back to a city where none of my friends would be currently residing, have decided not to make the voyage home this year. Instead, if all goes well (which it damn well should), my short-term home will be Middlebury from the 16th through the 22nd. Of course, it's not going to be all fun and games, as Derek has classes and I have a long paper to write, but actually fuck that it's TOTALLY GOING TO BE ALL FUN AND GAMES. I've already researched Middlebury's activity calendar and plan on going to the hot cocoa stand event, trivia night, and this lecture on Feminism. Also I want to venture into the world of the Middlebury party scene for at least half an hour to see the difference between Bates and Middlebury in regards to party/alcohol culture. 

I'm looking forward to meet Derek's friends, especially Chuck since there was a whole spread on him in one of Derek's posts. He's basically a celebrity. Also I feel an obligation to meet the man whom I've been blaming a lot of my problems on for the past few months, from spilled tea to lack of time to study ("GOD DAMN IT, CHUCK!"). Anyways, Derek has informed me that '"Chuck and Co. are expecting an eloquent, clever genius woman", as apparently I have been lauded by Derek every chance he's gotten. However, I cannot say I am worried about meeting these boys' expectations, because basically all Derek is asking of me is to be myself. I just need to figure out a few transportation things.

When it comes to April Break, my friend Jack (the first friend, remember? The ice cream social friend which apparently, after discussing it with Jack, was actually a pizza social which makes me disappointed to the point where I have convinced myself it definitely was an ice cream social, while simultaneously realizing with great woe that it was in fact a pizza social. How can I do this, you might ask. Look to 1984. Doublethink is all the rage at Bates College. Especially in my Environmental Ethics class. Jesus, this is quite the tangent, isn't it?) and I are planning on traveling around the parts of the East Coast we think would be the most interesting to galavant (Oh, that's sad. Blogger doesn't recognize 'galavant' as a word. What a boring, non-adventurous life the programmer of the spell-check and dictionary tool must lead) through (wow that was all one sentence.) So far we have decided upon visiting Brooklyn, because his sister and my roommate (and Julia!) live there. Also because we know it is the optimal place to live out our semi-hipster dreams. But hopefully our Kerouac-eque adventures will take us to more than just one city. We plan on crashing in hostels and traveling by bus. Of course, we have yet to plan the specifics, which is what I plan on doing at Middlebury when Derek is in his classes (hey, Derek, am I allowed to go to some of your classes?) and I am hiding away in his dorm or library. I was going to ask Derek if he could help me make some plans about traveling around the East Coast because he is good at ... geography(? valid reason or no ?) and planning trips (like the one through Europe he's making), but then I realized he'd be all "You have to go to these 59 places to hike, because they're the best hiking places blah blah blah I don't want you to die young because you never exercised blah blah *other valid argument*" so I'll probably just plan it myself... unless Derek has some excellent recommendations. Which he will. Because he's well versed in things. So yes, that is all very exciting.

3. I went to this brilliant and engaging lecture with Taylor by this candidate for a Rhetoric Tenure Track position named Ramzi Fawaz. 

Want to know what the title of the presentation was? Sure you do!
"'Flame On': Queering the Visual History of the Superhero in Marvel Comics' The Fantastic Four (1961) and Pixar's Incredibles (2004)." 
Let me tell you, it was probably the best lecture I have ever listened to. It was intellectually and visually stimulating, the speaker was beyond eloquent, and the Q and A portion was filled with challenging questions that were responded to with quick wit and thoughtful answers. I hope he gets picked for the position. I would take one of his classes even if I didn't have room in my schedule for it. Maybe.

4. I had 3 waffles for breakfast last weekend.

Here's how I make them. So, put the batter in the waffle maker, wait, get perfectly golden waffle DONE. But here's where it gets delicious. I stick chocolate chips in the small niches of the waffle, drizzle maple syrup, spray whipped cream on one half, and then fold the waffle in half. Then the chocolate chips melt, the syrup sinks in and the whipped cream... well it basically stays the same. But it is the most glorious excuse for eating dessert for breakfast I have ever eaten and it's basically the only reason I get out of bed and out of the house on weekends. Waffles are my anti-drug. Waffles are my anti-anti social behavior. Waffles are my everything.

5. I've been writing poetry in different forms than I'm used to, some pretty good, and some pretty awful. I get great subject material to write about when I'm in my Poetry Workshop Class (fancy that, eh?) but I haven't had much time (read: I forget to) write about my ideas, so I end up going back to the basics. However, sometimes I get a bit of weird inspiration or caffeine makes my brain go crazy and I get something really novel (and by that I mean too-prose-y. Ha! Get it?) first drafts of poems. Or just oddly phrased speculations. For instance, two nights ago, I wrote this:

Bates College, Privilege Checked

Sometimes I just stop and survey the situation I am in with extreme satisfaction.
For instance,
I am laying in bed in my pajamas, in the Music House I live in (3rd floor with a most fantastic window to look out of),
reading up about the ethics surrounding global climate change for my Environmental Ethics class (which is basically the quintessential Liberal Arts class, as it is a philosophy class that focuses on the topic of Environmental problems),
sipping on my slow drip- coffee which I purchased for a dollar (because it’s “wild card night”  at Le Ronj so the barista just makes customers whatever she feels like making) from the student-run coffee shop,
listening to the music blaring through the wall I share with my floormate whom I’m going to be performing folk songs with on stage in less than a week,
after practicing my indie cover of “Halo” by Beyonce on my ukulele,
and I just STOP and look at my life and cannot help but smile.
This was what I worked so hard for throughout all of elementary, middle and high school (I was already planning for college in 3rd grade). This is what I was hoping for.
Sure there is the stress of that god damn Lab Report that’s due Wednesday, and that paper due Thursday, and my poetry recitation tomorrow night for class, but fuck, man. The place I am in right now is so fantastic. It is pure bliss. It is the college experience I wished to have and need to remember.
I am in love.

         ---

  But then later on in the night the slow-drip coffee I was drinking started to get to me:

Everything is fine but my mind is buzzing like a wasp in a jar. YOU CAN SEE THE OUTSIDE WORLD BUT THERE IS A GOD DAMNED FORCE FIELD OF GLASS IN THE WAY. WHAT TYPE OF SICK BASTARD WOULD DO THIS TO A SMALL INSECT; a post on a cute anxiety attack, not to be confused with "acute anxiety" attacks.

I have too many thoughts

 in my head.

     I'm headed somewhere shaky and a bit 

                                                                bitter.

I   have   too   many   plans   in   the            making.

                                    That I need to           make.

Too many missed adventures I need to       make up for.

                                            Which I             made up
for a consolation prize from myself to myself.

But I'm making plans for the near future.

It's exciting but it's frightening.                                      

So many small details to get right.

                                             Right? 

                                             Write. I need to write.

 It's one of the things I need to do for a class. For an occupation, too.

Gotta lotta obligations in my pocket. A whole lotta obligations,               

 but I've got a hole in my pocket. Wait, two.                                                                           

                                                        Too many tasks. Scribbled a few on a post it. Then lost it. Damn it.

I have things to read. But then I'm reading them

and then 

I get anxious that I'm neglecting 

that other reading I also need to           do.

                        When are they              due?                                 

Which one is more important? Which one is due sooner?                               

Why won't the teachers say which readings are due on which days. 

Don't just list the 5 readings that are due in the span of one week. 

                                                                                     That's weak.

I NEED MORE STRUCTURE.

Assignments. Essays.

                         I say!

I think I need to write down everything I need to do so I don't forget to do them. 

On something I won't lose.

I'll scribble it on my skull.

Does anyone have a crayon?

My favorite color crayon is "tickle me pink" because it's a challenge no one has ever been able to successfully meet.                                               

I'm not ticklish but when I tell a guy that fact

as he starts to try to make me laugh,                                                                  

he never believes me.

He just continues to 

  touch

         the

             dip

before my hips.

The boys I know actually get frustrated by me and this 

"inadequacy"

 of mine because it means they have less of a reason to

 touch me in a familiar way.

That's why they pretend that they think I'm lying.

 Excuses to touch. 

I don't know if I'm okay with it.

Usually it's fine because they're my friends.

                        But it depends.                                                                              

"Tickle Me Pink" is not actually my favorite crayon color. I lied.

Wait, why am I writing about boys and colors and tickling? 

I have tasks to attend to.

                    To tend to.

                       I  tend to do this. 

                    Pretend to do this work I need to do,

but nope never gets done 

and then it's 1                                                                                                             

in the morning and I just go to sleep.

Everything is fine but my mind feels cluttered.

Not in a bad way,                      

                          just in a way.

But it's getting in the way.

This might be the coffee taking effect.

  I haven't had coffee in a couple months.                                                         

   It's affecting (effecting? Affecting.) 

     me in this weird way.                                   

       More than it would usually do if I drank it every day.                                                   

         It's a stronger response than I'd like.                                                                              

           It's making me jittery.                                                                                                    

It's a new feeling that's an old feeling that feels new because time is a funny thing.

It's kissing after a few months of not kissing.

It's driving a car after not driving a car for a year.

It's a lot of things after a specific amount of time elapses.

I have wasted sufficient time. 

I think I need to do some work now, 

because I definitely cannot fall asleep any time soon.

Buzz. Goddamn glass.

---
You have no idea how long it took for me to get the spacing right on that poem.

6. Now for a list of things that are up-and-coming which I may write about next week:

1. Thursday: Meeting with my English Major Advisor to see what my future will look like class-wise. I still need to do some planning for that.
2. Friday: Seeing my friends performing in "8" on campus
3. Friday: Taking photos for my job at the library.
4. Saturday from 12-1: Performing 2-3 Folk Songs for the Folk Music Festival with my floor-mate Nick. We have yet to really practice.
5. Saturday from 2-4/5/6: Meeting, workshopping and discussing poetry with two of the poets we have been reading in my poetry workshop class.
6. Saturday 10 pm- 2 am: Going to the "Glow" Dance/Rave which is basically just glow lights + crazy music = good time (?) I'm not sure about the outcome yet, I have not quite figured out the formula.
7. Sunday 1-3: Going to a workshop on how to perform Slam Poetry
8. General Weekend Stuff: Spending time with friends, homework, things. 

Okay, I think that about covers it. I'm sure I forgot to talk about a lot of the other interesting things in my life, but alas... maybe I'll remember and come back to add a few things. Maybe not. Better just keep coming back to my post to check.