I was about to sleep when I thought "I should work on that poem." So I worked on that poem, and a few others, and then started looking at different websites listing responses from creative writing programs, and it is now 2:30 a.m. What the hell is wrong with me?

Don't answer that.

I get high with a little help from my friends

San Francisco. Exactly the breath of fresh air I needed. Anna, Brooke, Danny, Will (no 'nyms today--too complicated). Books. People willing to talk about books. Professors in the hot tub (okay, that was amazingly awkward). I loved San Fran, but really the high was my friends. I almost started crying on the way to the airport. But enough tears. Here are the highlights I caught on film:

City Lights Bookstore, where Brooke, Bethany, Kati, and I snapped up four copies of Poetry as Insurgent Art by Ferlenghetti. Signed copies. I was geeking out.

Along the Embarcadero. Brooke and Anna totally smoking hot, as always (even when it's too cold to function).

Anna posing for J Crew.

Group shot!

Will (who apparently never keeps his eyes open in a picture) and Danny.

Anna and Brooke at Buca's.

Diet Pepsi. . . hmm.

Three people not posing. Thanks Cutchins.

the painted angel

Yes, I am awake. Yes, I am writing. Writing other than this blog. Attempting to write an intelligent conclusion to my thesis. Which I am still not bored with--I consider this both a good sign and the result of my August breakdown.

=

In other news, I seem to be unable to write a good poem. Even a decent poem. A poem I'd feel okay submitting to workshop. You'd think--or rather, I thought--that finishing the thesis would leave my mind free and easy to write poetry, but it's not happening yet. Maybe next week. A change of scenery, etc. Or maybe it will take awhile. A brilliant poet once told me that writer's block isn't writer's block--it's part of the writing process, as the brain gathers material. My brain has been gathering, even on the off days. I hope the off days end soon.

what I'm thinking about

at least what makes it way to blogger.

Hi.

Grad apps are killing me. I live for the mail. I keep every letter, even the NOs. And there have been NOs. And you have to write NO in all caps, just so you can feel the pain of NO.

Still thinking about grad apps. And moving. As in: leaving Provo. As in: leaving Utah. As in: am I really going to do this? I hate that my future is in the hands of strangers. Even more, I hate that voice in my head laughing every time I think about moving. In one month, I'll be 25. Wait. That should get its own 'graph.

I'll be 25. Not the biggest of milestones, but a milestone all the same. I know I'm still a baby, but honestly, I thought I would have lived more by 25. Or at least kissed more. Instead I have two degrees and an apartment full of books. Don't get me wrong--I love my books--but there must be other ways to live.

Okay, a few link-thoughts for you:

David Cook and Carly Smithson are the only reason to even think about American Idol this season. And AI is a million times less exciting when you're YouTubing the aftermath.

I'm not sure why I didn't get around to seeing Dan in Real Life in theaters, but it's definitely worth renting. And I heart the soundtrack. Sondre Lerche. Must buy. When I someday have money again.

Friday last

So it's a week overdue, but I felt I should announce: Friday was the best day ever. Well, maybe not the best ever, but definite top 5 material.

Friday started on Thursday night with me reciting all possible questions and all possible answers for the morning's defense. The result was a very blurry 6:45 wake up call for the actual defense.

Which went well. Not the wake up call. The defense. I'd even say very well. I passed. I passed! (Class, why would an author use repetition?)

I passed!

And then, after an hour with L and Baby, I returned to campus for the Billy Collins reading. I was sitting in the JSB auditorium (which was filled by noon) and Jon Ogden stopped by to tell me that James Dewey was on campus. James Dewey! I confess, I was more excited about that than Billy Collins.

Billy read. I laughed. Because that's what you're supposed to do when Billy reads. And then I finally found out "what happened to James Dewey." In the past two years he's become a mythical figure.

And then, Lance asked if I would like to take an open seat at the lunch with Billy Collins. Very cool. Very good food.

L and I ended the day with Enchantment, which L hadn't seen yet. It's still cute. Funny, etc. Plus, I like popcorn and diet coke for dinner.

Thank you to everyone who was cheering for me. It helped. A lot.