went fishing today. in the beautiful Uinta mountains of north central Utah (a few hours east of Salt Lake City). i hadn't been fishing in years, but it was fun. the wife joined me as we went with a couple of friends (Teresa and Mike). Mike turned out to be a fishing savant, and caught some dozen fish or so. i caught only one, but it was the FIRST one of the day (we were fishing for rainbow, cutthroat and brook trouts). my wife and Teresa caught zero each. regardless, it was a fun and beautiful day in the mountains. there was still snow on the ground, which is so odd when it's the middle of the summer.
all signs are pointing to me getting the job i interviewed for earlier this week. i got a call yesterday from the company wanting me to come in to fill out a background check release form. i filled it out, spoke with the Director of HR for the company, and assuming my background check pans out i believe it'll be mine (let's hope they don't Google me and find my website or this blog). the only thing left after that will be salary negotiations, which i hope will be short and sweet.
the wife and i played poker last night. our friend, Dave, held a night of three tournaments. i came in second the first one (winning $20), got out early in the second (winning nothing) and came in third in the last, and biggest, one (winning $45). unfortunately, my wife was out early in all three. but, after both of our buy-ins, which totaled $50, we walked away with $15 profit. not bad. plus, it was fun.
tomorrow, i'm sleeping in. i have plans to write a little, but i've had plans to write a little for a couple of months now so i'm not expecting much (or anything) at all.
09 July 2005
07 July 2005
the interview
so, the interview is over. it went well. very well, even. the interview was more an inquisition than an interview, with 9 people interrogating me at once. funny, the interview started with only 2 people, then another 2 joined, and slowly the room filled up until all 9 were there. it felt almost like they were throwing phalanxes of managers and supervisors at me. i think i did a pretty damn good job keeping them at bay.
what do this have to do with poetry, you might ask? well, nothing. but, if i were to get this job i am pretty certain i would be considerably less stressed, and less stress means more poetry. so, indirectly, this has everything to do with poetry.
i live by the mailbox. not literally, though i suppose my house is close to the mailbox. what i mean is the best part of the day for me is getting my mail. on any given day i could get a package from some order for books i've put in, a rejection or acceptance for a magazine to which i sent poetry, a letter from one of the many people with whom i keep regular correspondence or, lastly, a magazine to which i subscribe or in which i am featured. so, mail is very fun for me. the only reason i mention this is because i took a day off from work today (for the interview) and waited anxiously for the mail all morning. it never showed by the time i went to my interview at 1pm. it's now 5:30pm and the mail still isn't here. now, i'm worried that there was something especially cool in it and the postal carrier has decided to abscond with it. i'm certain of it. if you are reading this, and you sent me something recently, there's a possibility i will never receive it. i hope it wasn't irreplaceable.
what do this have to do with poetry, you might ask? well, nothing. but, if i were to get this job i am pretty certain i would be considerably less stressed, and less stress means more poetry. so, indirectly, this has everything to do with poetry.
i live by the mailbox. not literally, though i suppose my house is close to the mailbox. what i mean is the best part of the day for me is getting my mail. on any given day i could get a package from some order for books i've put in, a rejection or acceptance for a magazine to which i sent poetry, a letter from one of the many people with whom i keep regular correspondence or, lastly, a magazine to which i subscribe or in which i am featured. so, mail is very fun for me. the only reason i mention this is because i took a day off from work today (for the interview) and waited anxiously for the mail all morning. it never showed by the time i went to my interview at 1pm. it's now 5:30pm and the mail still isn't here. now, i'm worried that there was something especially cool in it and the postal carrier has decided to abscond with it. i'm certain of it. if you are reading this, and you sent me something recently, there's a possibility i will never receive it. i hope it wasn't irreplaceable.
06 July 2005
the plunge
just got back from a pre-pre-construction meeting with the builder of our house. the "real" pre-construction meeting is next week, but we wanted to stop by to find out prices of upgrades and what was available, etc. so we could work out a budget. oh, this is all in reference to the fact that we are buying a new house. having one built, actually. the house we are currently in is the first house we bought, a small "starter home" (as the real estate agents call it), which we have seriously outgrown. the computer is in the dining room, the bathroom is off the kitchen (and smaller than a coat closet). the house was built in 1925 and has been retrofitted with electricity, a furnace and plumbing (we don't have AC but something called a swamp cooler, which is only effective in an arid, desert environment). it's cozy and has done us well the past three and a half years, but it's time we move on to something larger and newer.
so, not much else going on. haven't written a damn thing in a long while. i tend to crumple under pressure (being the delicate little orchid that i am) and can't write when too much shit is ricocheting around me. with work being the unbearable fucker that it is, with all the shit zinging around the inside of my skull concerning the new house, i just can't seem to calm down long enough to think straight. nevermind trying to write something.
but, tomorrow's a big day for me. i have an interview. here's to hoping i nail it and it'll become something better for this stressed-out SOB. typically, the thought of an interview and starting a new job would freak me out but work is so stifling and bad right now, it would be a welcome change.
so, not much else going on. haven't written a damn thing in a long while. i tend to crumple under pressure (being the delicate little orchid that i am) and can't write when too much shit is ricocheting around me. with work being the unbearable fucker that it is, with all the shit zinging around the inside of my skull concerning the new house, i just can't seem to calm down long enough to think straight. nevermind trying to write something.
but, tomorrow's a big day for me. i have an interview. here's to hoping i nail it and it'll become something better for this stressed-out SOB. typically, the thought of an interview and starting a new job would freak me out but work is so stifling and bad right now, it would be a welcome change.
05 July 2005
the day after
it's the day after the gloriousness we call the 4th of July. i love laying awake late into the night, listening to the booming of multiple (competing?) displays of fireworks. i love that i am just about to fall asleep when the finales volley through the air like it's the attack on Fort Wagner. i love sweating in our small room, trying to think cool thoughts in order to ward off spontaneous human combustion, because the smell of sulfur and phosphorus wafts into the open window, choking us.
i LOVE it all. in fact, i wish everyday were the 4th of July.
i received a proof copy of my next chapbook, 25 Best-Loved Poems of the Future, from my publisher Bill Roberts of Bottle of Smoke Press. the book is supposed to be available July 15. i will post when i know more about it. oh, and the proof looks great. this will be a killer book, beautifully designed and full of pretty damn good poetry (if i do say so myself).
nothing else very poetic has happened the past few days. i renewed my subscription to The Small Press Review the other day. haven't heard anything from the numerous submissions i have out. i haven't written much lately. a few words here and there. mostly, all i've been doing is working. and, that alone, has been enough (too much) to keep me busy.
such is the life of a small press poet.
i LOVE it all. in fact, i wish everyday were the 4th of July.
i received a proof copy of my next chapbook, 25 Best-Loved Poems of the Future, from my publisher Bill Roberts of Bottle of Smoke Press. the book is supposed to be available July 15. i will post when i know more about it. oh, and the proof looks great. this will be a killer book, beautifully designed and full of pretty damn good poetry (if i do say so myself).
nothing else very poetic has happened the past few days. i renewed my subscription to The Small Press Review the other day. haven't heard anything from the numerous submissions i have out. i haven't written much lately. a few words here and there. mostly, all i've been doing is working. and, that alone, has been enough (too much) to keep me busy.
such is the life of a small press poet.
04 July 2005
the 4th
so, today's the 4th of July. 229 years ago my country gained its independence. that's a good thing, i suppose, but you'll have to forgive me if i don't get all misty-eyed over the whole thing. call me cynical or jaded, but there's just as much, if not more, to be ashamed of in the history of this country as there is to be proud of. especially lately.
that being said, the day off from work sure is fine. we have some good friends coming over for a cookout. we're gonna drink some beer, grill up some hamburgers and frankfurters (why are both named after German cities?) and enjoy ourselves our companies.
and, in the spirit of the 4th, here's a little poem i wrote:
4th of july
this morning, a
formation of F-16s
from the
nearby air force base
flew directly
over my house,
at low altitude,
causing the house to
shake and jolt
me out of
bed at 11:23 am,
hungover and confused.
i initially thought an
asteroid
was falling out
of the sky and heading
directly for
my house,
which would
cause
tremendous amounts
of carnage and
destruction,
like in
the movies.
unfortunately, it was
only the first
in an endless day
of patriotic celebrations.
thankfully, the 4th
of july only
happens once a
year.
you know what's really funny? here in Utah we celebrate the 4th pretty much like everywhere else in America: fireworks, Stadiums of Fire (where such illustrious and broad-minded Americans as Sean Hannity have spoken), Freedom Festivals (yes, jingoistic bullshit like this actually exists), cookouts, more fireworks, etc. but, on the 24th of July we also celebrate something called Pioneer Day. and, it's even bigger. there's a humongous parade downtown, rodeos all over the state, more, even larger, displays of fireworks. plus, another day off from work. apparently, the celebration of the statehood of Utah is more important than the celebration of the nationhood of America. whatever.
another thing. what the fuck is the deal with all the celebrations and festivals being controlled and monopolized by country music performers? is this related to the same bullshit line about how the Midwestern and Southern American is supposedly more American than the rest of us? there are just as many embarrassed and ashamed people in the south and midwest. and just as many proud and patriotic people in rock-n-roll and hip-hop. yet one more reason why i can't seem to get worked into the requisite frothy giddiness over this holiday. give me thanksgiving and christmas and new year's any day of the week over the 4th of July.
on that note, enjoy yourself and drive safe.
that being said, the day off from work sure is fine. we have some good friends coming over for a cookout. we're gonna drink some beer, grill up some hamburgers and frankfurters (why are both named after German cities?) and enjoy ourselves our companies.
and, in the spirit of the 4th, here's a little poem i wrote:
4th of july
this morning, a
formation of F-16s
from the
nearby air force base
flew directly
over my house,
at low altitude,
causing the house to
shake and jolt
me out of
bed at 11:23 am,
hungover and confused.
i initially thought an
asteroid
was falling out
of the sky and heading
directly for
my house,
which would
cause
tremendous amounts
of carnage and
destruction,
like in
the movies.
unfortunately, it was
only the first
in an endless day
of patriotic celebrations.
thankfully, the 4th
of july only
happens once a
year.
you know what's really funny? here in Utah we celebrate the 4th pretty much like everywhere else in America: fireworks, Stadiums of Fire (where such illustrious and broad-minded Americans as Sean Hannity have spoken), Freedom Festivals (yes, jingoistic bullshit like this actually exists), cookouts, more fireworks, etc. but, on the 24th of July we also celebrate something called Pioneer Day. and, it's even bigger. there's a humongous parade downtown, rodeos all over the state, more, even larger, displays of fireworks. plus, another day off from work. apparently, the celebration of the statehood of Utah is more important than the celebration of the nationhood of America. whatever.
another thing. what the fuck is the deal with all the celebrations and festivals being controlled and monopolized by country music performers? is this related to the same bullshit line about how the Midwestern and Southern American is supposedly more American than the rest of us? there are just as many embarrassed and ashamed people in the south and midwest. and just as many proud and patriotic people in rock-n-roll and hip-hop. yet one more reason why i can't seem to get worked into the requisite frothy giddiness over this holiday. give me thanksgiving and christmas and new year's any day of the week over the 4th of July.
on that note, enjoy yourself and drive safe.
03 July 2005
idea factory
people have often asked me how i come up with the ideas for my poems. there's no way i can answer this question. it's like asking Mozart where he came up with the ideas for his symphonies. who the hell knows? now, don't get me wrong. i'm not comparing myself to Mozart. i mean, he was German and i'm American. oh, and he wrote music, not poetry like i.
but, the point i'm trying to make is that i have no idea where the hell the ideas come from. if i weren't an atheist and were credulous enough to believe in any of that crap, i'd say it came from god. but, we all know that's not the case.
so, my only guess is it's a fortuitous combination of genes. in the same way Jesse Owens and Carl Lewis could run fast, Michael Jordan could play basketball, Andre Agassi tennis, and Mozart could pen melodies, i can write poetry.
but, if you were to ask me how i come up with the ideas for my poems i'd give you the same answer i give everyone else: i hear voices i'm convinced are broadcast from an alien planet, the frequency of which my brain is uniquely attuned, and these voices tell me exactly what i should write. this usually ends all further conversation. and, for that reason alone, the voices are worth any and all annoyances they might give me.
but, the point i'm trying to make is that i have no idea where the hell the ideas come from. if i weren't an atheist and were credulous enough to believe in any of that crap, i'd say it came from god. but, we all know that's not the case.
so, my only guess is it's a fortuitous combination of genes. in the same way Jesse Owens and Carl Lewis could run fast, Michael Jordan could play basketball, Andre Agassi tennis, and Mozart could pen melodies, i can write poetry.
but, if you were to ask me how i come up with the ideas for my poems i'd give you the same answer i give everyone else: i hear voices i'm convinced are broadcast from an alien planet, the frequency of which my brain is uniquely attuned, and these voices tell me exactly what i should write. this usually ends all further conversation. and, for that reason alone, the voices are worth any and all annoyances they might give me.
welcome
welcome to my blog. it will be about nothing, except me and my life. it's banalities, contradictions and deficiencies. hopefully, too, there'll be a few morsels of good news. i'll try to keep it related to writing (and my poetry, more specifically) but i will be posting about all kinds of shit. if i wind up bloviating about non-poetic tangents, tough! it's my blog and i'll bloviate if i want to.
oh, and if you hate poetry. good. so do i. or, at least most of it. but, i do like the poetry by the authors in the links section, among others. check them out. if, after reading their (and my) stuff, you still hate poetry, then that's cool. i won't try to change your mind. i just hope you give it a chance, and i hope you enjoy the blog regardless.
oh, and if you hate poetry. good. so do i. or, at least most of it. but, i do like the poetry by the authors in the links section, among others. check them out. if, after reading their (and my) stuff, you still hate poetry, then that's cool. i won't try to change your mind. i just hope you give it a chance, and i hope you enjoy the blog regardless.
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