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15 april 2002

lunchtime for wilma and harry. it's the wide-load feeding hour.

mild case of attention deficit

New review! And I have to say that I had no idea that so many people had lost their minds over the breath tape. You guys are so gross. I'm sticking with my Listerine LIQUID and Tic Tacs, thanks. Bleck.

It has been difficult for me to sit, rest, or focus on anything for more than a nanosecond this past week. I hate it when I get this way, because it stinks up my ability to write, or even read anything longer than the back of a cereal box. One of the reasons I write is to clear the noise from my head. It helps me sleep better, and that hasn't been a big success, either.

Take a few nights ago, when I woke up in a cold sweat and straightjacketed in the covers. The dream that brought me to the brink? I dreamed I had a tan: a deep, dark, Hawaiian Tropic cover girl tan. That was great (albeit a totally "in my dreams" occurrence), until my skin started going all horror film with some mutant necrosis skin cancer hoo-ha. I stumbled to the mirror upon awakening, just to make sure I was still all pale and freckly.

In a nutshell, last week just kind of escaped me in the flurry of activity that transition brings. I did have some interesting moments, such as sitting in on Jim and Ian's "dharma talk". Each week, they get together with several other people for a Buddhist discussion. It's pretty interesting from what I could tell, but way over my Episcopalian head. I know *thismuch* about Buddhism, so when the discussion turned toward whether a table was inherently a table and really existed as such, I was just way lost.

That, and increasingly nervous about setting my hot coffee on the so-called table. Hm.

On Thursday, I attended the much-anticipated poetry "slam off" to decide the team that Winston-Salem would take to Minnesota in August. And am I glad I went to this one! What a roomful of talent, and it was doubly impressive in that all of the poets did new work. So this year, we've got Carl, Carrie, Ian (not dharma Ian, but a School of the Arts prodigy type, sheesh), and the Wanderer. I think they'll be a force to be reckoned with. They're all very impressive.

Early Saturday, Amy and I drove to Durham (where she grew up) to kick around a bit. It was fun, and you wanna see what I'm going to buy when I'm done bending over for the IRS? (It's actually not too bad this year, much better than the bloodbath I endured last April. Viva self employment.) Looky here...pretty German-designed ring...I'm making Homer noises gaaaghlghgh...

Saturday night was Ian's (dharma Ian--are you confused yet? How many of you know two people named Ian? Is this normal?) and Emilie's Dining for Friends/birthday party. What fun it was, and what a group they assembled! My hats are off to Richard for intentionally getting canned after watching Office Space. Say what you will, but that's taking some damn initiative. I say this having been both a wearer of at least 30 "inspirations" or whatever the crap they were, and the girl in the cubicle. That's my stapler!

Sunday...well, it was good. I read my Journal and the Washington Post. If you get a chance, read AIDS Warriors (about the Carter-Mandela-Gates visit to Africa), and The Rap Revolution about hip-hop's coming of age in Cuba. Good, good stuff. Squish around your brain like a wad of Silly Putty over lunch. Keeps it young, smart, and pliable. Yup.

I think (or hope) that things here are settling down somewhat. Who really knows, though. If nothing else, I'm running. The weather has been too perfect to resist a long run each day. This week, 80 degrees and more. No complaints here.