Emphatically Yours...

I like words, language, turns of phrase...I like new ones, old ones--especially old ones. Sometimes I like to go mucking around in the dictionary.com or Oxford English attic just to see what I can dust off and put to good use. (There are some good ones!) Sometimes I am writing an email or in conversation and I use a word that I didn't know I knew.  That's always a weird but pleasant surprise. I spend so much of my time communicating that having interesting terms at my disposal makes the experience more entertaining for me--like learning to brush your teeth with the opposite hand or walking backwards or something.

I don't know why, but I've been exclaiming a lot lately, and as I try to limit my swearing (only for peak comedic effect) I've started to use other words and phrases to express my distress, surprise, etc., like:

"Zounds!"

"My word!"

"Fie!"

"Upon my life!"

"Damn it all to hell!"

Okay, that last one isn't void of curses, but they are the mild swear words at least. And, I am not damning anyone, just it--more specifically it all.  That could be anything: all the bugs, all the splinters, all the incompetence...Let's be honest, who would be upset to see any of those things gone?

A Typical Exchange

(between one of my sisters and me)
**

ME: Introspection revelation--I am not a humble person anymore.

SISTER: U definitely are!

ME: Oh. Okay...
Seriously? Because I'm not in my head. So much for introspection, hmph!

SISTER: U know that's the least reputable form of observation, rite?

ME: What, introspection? But Socrates said the unexamined life is not worth living. :(

SISTER:  Rite...but self observation has one of the highest margins of error...it's the least empirical and innately biased

ME: Yes, Master. ;)*

SISTER: Lol
- - -

*My brilliant and funny sister, upon completing her M.A. in education, insisted for a time that everyone call her "master", so there's the innards of that joke.

Squelch[ed] the 'Tude

I had this whole post ready. It was a vehement diatribe that I scribbled in a fury about a week ago sandwiched between a much more calm and stable preface and afterward.  I even changed the text color to blue for those parts--that's how calm.  But after receiving news of yet another marriage proposal, the third one I've learned of this week, I could not waste the space or opportunity on a stale rant.  There is too much love, too much happy going on right now and it has put a happy damper on my pity parade. Thank God.

Right now, in this moment, it's summer and life is beautiful and that's where it's at.

Congratulations to all the newly betrothed.
It's going to be a hot summer, indeed!

An Open Letter to a Lit Mag

Dear Up-and-Coming Lit Mag,

I thought we had an understanding. You, without so many issues off the ground, and I, having not published outside of my alma mater's periodical, could work together.  You accept a poem of mine for publication and quell my first-timer jitters, and in return I have various family members purchase copies and contribute to your bottom line--everybody wins!  I came to you humbly enough, not expecting you to give me the world. I was happy simply to be considered; I felt accomplished just submitting my work on time. So I clicked send and thought no more of it. Months passed. I moved on. 

Then, you reached out.  "We liked one of these enough to print it," you said, "so send us a wee bio and your mailing address. We'll send you a couple copies when the next issue prints."  I replied immediately (almost immediately; I had to write the bio--I don't just keep drafts of those lying around just in case).  Then, when I came to from my daydreams of reading tours, speaking engagements, honorary chair positions at esteemed colleges and universities and photoshoots for the book jacket, I told a few people.  I told my parents, a few close friends and the wonderful writers whom I had called upon to workshop with me on such short notice.  They were happy; I was happy; everybody was happy.  

That was months ago, Lit Mag, and the issues that I was supposed to receive are still MIA.  I know print media is going through it. I know magazines, especially start-ups, are having a hell of a time, add to that the fact that you are not aspiring to be pop-culture bird cage liner and it makes things even harder.  I understand that. So, maybe there is no hard copy of this issue. Should I look online?  Will my poem be there?  Did you change your mind and don't want my poem anymore? Did the entire staff and affiliated printing press spontaneously combust?  What gives?  Seriously, I'm not mad. I just need closure.  Tell me if you want me or not, so I can pick up my poems and peddle them elsewhere.  Either way, you were still my first so no hard feelings.

Sincerely,

Me

poetry & the posts to come

1 - gonna talk about my birthday a bit, but that's later

2 - *talked about the concert a bit, that's here

3 - and the beginnings/essence/bones(?) of a new poem:


"Polyandry"

My grandmother
took three husbands,
but not nearly as much
as they took from her.


*If I'd known folks would actually be able to see/read what I wrote about the show, I would've tried a little harder, dig? It's honest, anyway.

Walk Walk, Fashion Baby

So, the 18th St Fashion Show...

About 5 years ago, I was wondering around downtown KCMO, before it became the Power and Light District.  It was a weekend and, being the curious pedestrian that I was, I walked up and down the hilly city blocks.  I looked into shop windows, some closed and some open, peered at industrial facilities-turned-living spaces and wondered,  "Where are all the people?"  Then I stumbled onto 18th Street and, lo and behold! There was fashion. It was the annual 18th Street Fashion show, and that year the theme was "Chocolate Summer".  So many pieces in rich creams and satin browns; some even broadened the theme to include other candied colors.  I was still very new to the city, and finding this show put me at ease. "Okay," I thought, "there is something going on here."

In the years since then, I've fogotten about the show or missed it from being out of town. Not this year.  This year the 18th Street Fashion Show celebrates it's 10th anniversary, and my homie is one of the sponsors, so best believe I'll be there.  This year's theme is "A Decadent Summer". Don't mind if I do.

**and i LOVE that the show is at dusk. how deliciously eerie.