tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74940059699560924662026-05-10T02:26:41.631-07:00Get PoeticalYour daily dose of assonance.DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.comBlogger113125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-69941997007437830142011-04-14T10:57:00.000-07:002011-04-14T10:57:33.781-07:00I'll give you a topic.I just came across a site called the Random Poem Idea Generator. Here are some of the suggestions it gave me:
Boldly advance wrong opinions about eagles saying everything twice but phrased differently
Throw a friendly arm around gophers in a cocktail dress (Are the gophers wearing the cocktail dress or are you?)
Indicate your preference for Michigan entirely in overheard dialogue (This DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-89565163122897359922011-04-05T00:10:00.000-07:002011-04-05T00:17:09.951-07:00Who is on the phone?My dear friend Angela is coming to see me this week all the way from Nashville! I am so excited and in honor of this, I would like to share a story regarding our similar cases of mistaken phone identities.
When we were in college, Angela used to get calls in the middle of the night of people asking for Cash, who was apparently also a person or drug dealer or both. This happenedDThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-489308993812155272011-03-28T09:59:00.000-07:002011-03-28T09:59:56.283-07:00Do you agree with number 1?I like this list that a friend of mine posted of the 100 Greatest Writers of All Time. Many fantastic poets are included along with some interesting facts and photography. I like the Saul Bellow photo myself.
A few excerpts:
Of Ezra Pound: "Somewhere between the worst person who was a great poet and the greatest poet who was an asshole"
Of Emily Dickinson: "She DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-22740166101849066552011-03-23T17:05:00.000-07:002011-03-23T17:05:10.653-07:00They call me Slug Savior.Yesterday morning I woke up and there was a slug on my bathroom floor! My first reaction was, That is a slug. My second reaction was, Huh, I guess I'm not that bothered by it. I mean, slugs are not known for speed. I had plenty of time to pee and think about the slug situation before I actually had to deal with it. It was then that I decided I wanted to save it. DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-68742740433751683912011-03-21T18:18:00.000-07:002011-04-05T00:17:32.186-07:00Poetry meet art. Art, poetry.My dear friend Angela is coming to visit me in a couple weeks! I'm so excited to see her, it made me open a box of pictures that she had drawn for me one birthday. More than a few years ago, she illustrated some of my poems as a gift, and I had them framed and hanging on my wall in my old apartment. Since The Great Move of 2010, I haven't put them back up yet. I was tryingDThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-84128534465771467742011-03-17T09:11:00.000-07:002011-03-17T09:54:42.951-07:00I'm like that guy who wrote a love letter about his typewriter except about food.Yesterday I gave a pasta-making demonstration to some people I work for. I was kind of nervous about it because I wanted to show them how to use their hands to mix the dough and not a food processor, which is something I've only done once but I think it tastes better. Yeah, I probably should have practiced, but I'm a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kind of gal. Instead I went with DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-70871553961791663472011-03-14T01:08:00.000-07:002011-03-14T01:08:34.759-07:00The error of my WeiI was trying to find a poem I remembered reading a long time ago by the Chinese poet Wang Wei. The teacher who introduced him to me used to pronounce his name as if it sounded like "wrong way," which she thought was hilarious. It's been maybe 12 years since I last saw the poem, but the imagery struck me at the time. I even recall copying it into a notebook. I don't know DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-3381308274134705842011-03-10T16:32:00.000-08:002011-03-10T16:32:35.543-08:00It's probably a good thing I'm no longer a copy editor.Some days I feel like my brain just doesn't have time for my crap, so it makes up its own shortcuts when I'm writing. For instance, as I typed that last sentence it decided that combining the words "my" and "brain" would be easier, so I typed "I feel like by just doesn't have time."
And sometimes my brain decides that the word "of" would look prettier with a "v" like this: ov. DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-17081649599095908622011-03-08T11:51:00.000-08:002011-03-08T11:51:56.584-08:00Fat TuesdayMy freshman year of college we were trying to decide what to do for spring break. My friend pointed out that it just happened to fall on the week of Mardi Gras. We were at school in Memphis: what if- and she was just throwing this out there- what if we drove down to New Orleans to see what it's all about? It's about an eight hour drive. So we did it, the two of us DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-15803222946519032282011-03-04T12:04:00.000-08:002011-03-04T12:14:38.443-08:00"I'm going to the nut shop where it's fun!"So there's this grocery store in my neighborhood. I used to drive past it every morning when I worked in Century City. It's on a stretch of Pico Blvd. that houses mostly kosher shops and restaurants. It also happens to be next to an establishment called the Nut House, which is I think what captured my attention in the first place. Also, the Nut House looks like this:
DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-36112483296355684512011-03-02T11:57:00.000-08:002011-03-02T12:00:58.866-08:00bgbmSo my roommate and I decided that Oscar weekend was the perfect time to venture out and see a film that received only a 6% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. That film was The Roommate. While we love bad movies, it's not often that we pay to see them in theaters. Usually we and some other friends relegate them to something called bgbm. The "bgbm" stands for "bad girls, bad movies"DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-25542720195666876542011-02-28T14:11:00.000-08:002011-02-28T14:11:05.654-08:00A bit of a downer, franklyI wanted to share this poem by W. H. Auden. You might recognize him as the author of the poem John Hannah recited in Four Weddings and a Funeral. This one caught my eye on one of the poetry sites I frequent- sometimes they post an excerpt of a classic to lure people in on the home page. But as I was reading through it, it really struck me today. You know the phrase "DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-83015769401704668032011-02-23T12:23:00.000-08:002011-04-05T00:17:32.190-07:00In the category of Seussical impressions regarding grammatics . . .this email from September 2005 wins first prize. I was once again doing a random search through my inbox archives (shut up, it's my thing) and was delighted to see how the following poem evolved.
It came at a time when I had just started working for a publisher in Washington, DC. As an editorial assistant, I was tasked with bathing copy in red ink before it went to press. DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-90312200331628442942011-02-21T23:30:00.000-08:002011-02-21T23:32:53.622-08:00The power of the internetsWell, this is the one hundredth post on this blog. It seemed kind of momentous to me, so I wanted to wait until I had something spectacular to say before I got around to writing it. Luckily, something spectacular happened yesterday.
Maybe you'll remember a few months back when I wrote about receiving someone else's subscription to Entertainment Weekly magazine? That person was DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-44289553512235948362011-02-18T00:12:00.000-08:002011-02-18T00:12:06.727-08:00Dead presidents, frozen cavemen, and frozen cokeI'm excited about this weekend because a friend of mine that I've known since 8th grade (!) is coming to see me. I don't think I've seen her in about eight or nine years, but I have no doubt we'll pick up right where we left off. To quote what she wrote about her upcoming visit on her blog,
"we're planning to re-visit 8th grade, which means lots of frozen coke, popcorn, face DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-60505423653172403622011-02-15T12:47:00.000-08:002011-02-15T12:47:02.874-08:00It might have been okay, but then they released Hanson.When I was running errands yesterday, I had my iPod plugged in in my car and the windows down. I don't know why there's something exhilarating about doing that, whether it's blasting your favorite song or exorcising road rage with something bass-heavy and angry. It reminded me of a time before I got my driver's license.
I was one of the youngest people in my class so all my DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-20321598456078953052011-02-14T09:55:00.000-08:002011-02-14T09:55:50.622-08:00Valentine's Day: brought to you by angstThe Look
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyes
Haunts me night and day.
-Sara Teasdale
(yet another poet who killed herself)DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-16250871269765254492011-02-10T13:11:00.000-08:002011-02-10T13:11:34.467-08:00When I was little, I wanted to live in a tree.That still sounds like a pretty good option. Mainly, I'm wondering if this is the only way to avoid aggressively crazy neighbors. Before it was the harpy woman; now it's the pushy dog lady. Always it's the long-term renters who've been around for the better part of a decade.
Dog Lady seemed all right to begin with. I mean, she had a dog. I love dogs. DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-81169550928408822412011-02-08T12:16:00.000-08:002011-02-08T12:16:07.640-08:00Too bad I look stupid in hats.This is the third comb I've broken trying to get it through my wet hair in the shower. Yes, I have a lot of hair, but this is ridiculous. I honestly think the hair is fighting back. Do I really need to buy a special metal tool to tame this beast? To give you a visual, if left to its own devices my hair would balloon and drape itself around my head, emulating Cousin It.&DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-55292421291407282872011-02-07T11:19:00.000-08:002011-02-07T11:19:13.312-08:00I'm a little worried that I mentioned babies so much, but then again I also mentioned cheese.What a jam-packed weekend that was! I'm still in the process of recovering, as is my roommate's car after I accidentally hit it Friday night. No damage done, although for a second I thought I hit it hard enough to make the trunk pop open (I didn't). Sorry, Omi. That's what happens after a wild and crazy game of Wits 'n Wagers. Have you ever heard of this game? DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-36961580606779864002011-02-02T21:39:00.000-08:002011-02-02T21:39:55.486-08:00Today's poem brought to you by wineYou thought I was going to be drunk when I wrote this, right? Well, I'm not (yet). Thanks to @pxie, I was alerted to a contest in which a Napa winery called Poem Cellars has issued a call for poetry submissions. Apparently, they include a haiku or a limerick on every cork of their bottled wine that goes out. Until February 5th they will be taking submissions for their 2009DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-50095077703421319042011-02-02T00:22:00.000-08:002011-02-02T00:22:05.635-08:00What's the opposite of a tapeworm?Because that's what I had for the last week or so. I had some sort of stomach bug that wasn't letting me keep food down, so while the down side was not being able to eat, the plus side was an automatic diet. Just when I was getting used to having applesauce as a meal, my boss made me a plate of roast chicken and vegetables and very sweetly told me to eat it for lunch today. Lo and behold, I DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-17373754021147287592011-01-31T17:39:00.000-08:002011-01-31T17:40:02.003-08:00Have a think.I once read a blog where the writer posted about her husband lying down to have a think. That image really struck me. Who takes time out of their day to do that? But then I thought it would be kind of nice to just lie on the bed or the couch and think about things. It makes you slow down, maybe appreciate the good stuff in life. Maybe it gives you a chance to work DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-68498201574781652222011-01-29T14:29:00.000-08:002011-01-29T14:29:01.132-08:00The human conditionI have to dedicate a post to my roommate, who, upon hearing I was feeling under the weather, took it upon herself to learn how to make fresh ginger tea. It is seriously the best thing in the world. It tastes a little like ginger ale but with more bite. Plus it's hot. And there's lemon in it. So, thanks, Omaira Galarza. Now I'm not so scared to go see The DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7494005969956092466.post-51213603636455922052011-01-26T18:41:00.000-08:002011-01-29T19:38:34.360-08:00That'll teach me to avoid the whites.Today I finally found the jeans I've been looking for! And no, I wasn't shopping. I had ordered 2 pairs of jeans off of a Groupon deal at the end of November. I was pretty excited about them since they ended up being only $24 each, and I got in on the deal right before it expired. The jeans took about a week to ship, but during that week we moved apartments and I went out DThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09570472904767497739noreply@blogger.com0