what is 65.7894737?
The percentage of my life that I have lived without you.
the trashcan
I had a dream last night that I was handcuffed to a giant trashcan, the industrial kind cleaning crews use in facility maintenance. It was putty gray and scuffed. It was empty. There seemed to be no purpose for it or for my being handcuffed to it. But I was. When I went to meetings, I had to wedge it next to me at the conference table. When there was no room for it to sit next to me, I had to place it behind me and hold my handcuffed arm behind my back until the meeting ended. The trashcan was not elegant or attractive or subtle. It was the wrong scale for every outfit I wore. You could hardly call it an accessory, though I tried passing it off as one, until I gave up trying. Everyone saw the trashcan before they saw me. I got used to this. I would push it around the corner, announcing my arrival. Its wheels squeaked. It wanted to veer to the left, into people and walls. I could barely keep the trashcan moving in the right direction as I made my way from floor to floor, hall to hall. Such force was needed. When someone tried to throw trash in it, I would stop them. “Don’t put your trash in my trashcan,” I would say. “You have no right. It’s mine.”
on social networking
Virtual friendships. Public friendships. Virtual public friendships. Public virtual friendships. Friends we have never met. Circles of virtual friends. Circles of public friends. Circles of virtual public friends. Circles of public virtual friends. Public. Virtual. Friendships in quotes. Friends in quotes. Public pals. Virtual pals. Public spaces that allow for the skimming of other people’s lives. Public spaces that promote and encourage the skimming of other people’s lives. Seeing someone respond to another’s tragedy in a comment box on a status message. Seeing that same person go on to comment on dozens of other people’s cute and bubbly status messages moments after coming upon the tragedy. The fact that our tragedies are conveyed through status messages. The fact that we can’t sit with tragedies. We have to keep moving, keep commenting. Lighten up. Keep it light. The fluidity with which we shift from one mode to another, one person to another, in terms of our engagement, focus and tone, much the way a newscaster reports on a brutal killing then segues into the latest lip gloss fad. People being used like game pieces, the way we used to flip virtual cards in rounds of solitaire on the computer when we had downtime at work. Now the game pieces are people. Virtual people. Public people. Pals. Public pals. Our pals. These people we barely know. Don’t want to know. Don’t know. Won’t ever know.
protective measure
Starting now, I am banning every visitor to my site that looks suspicious. You are most likely to be affected if you use a mobile device or if you are using a proxy to view the site. I am trying to block those I have asked to stop engaging with me and to stop reading my work. If I accidentally block you, send me an email at mygorgeoussomewhere (at) gmail (dot) com and let me know I have made a mistake.
poetry x 12
Joseph Harker is taking over Poetry x 12, the monthly poetry-reading challenge I started in January after being inspired by my public library’s monthly, themed reading challenge for its employees. Go visit Joseph’s blog to get the skinny on the March challenge, as well as the reading challenges for the rest of the year.
I will still be participating in Poetry x 12. I just have other obligations right now that prevent me from being able to administer it. Yay to Joseph for taking this project on!
kristen mchenry’s ‘the goatfish alphabet’ is now available
Click on the link to purchase your copy now. Do it. You know you want to. (Hers is the second collection down from the top of the page.)
oh wow, a reading and/or workshop every day in the month of march
Sometimes I love Seattle. Right now, I love Pilot Books in Seattle. Click on the image to see everyone who is reading or giving a workshop there this month.
