How did I get here?
I have to have a blog.
I got a twitter account because I had to, but it was a boring place to be, so I never went back. I sign up for all sorts of things just to see what they're about, or because I have to, but then I get bored. For the record, things I "have to" do, generally bore me. It's why I can't write poems sometimes. Sometimes, I think, "Man, I really have to start writing poems!" and then I can't: Boring! Instead of writing, I will:
crochet an afghan,
take pictures of my cat,
or start a blog.
When I was a kid, Uncle Don would say, "Ang, you better not lick that wall!" and I would immediately lick the wall. When Uncle Don said, "You better go to the bathroom before we hit the road," I'd hold it for hours. He called me "Goose," because I was silly like a goose. My other childhood nicknames include: Moonie (because of my large, round face/head. Also, I was bald until I was about 5) and Spuds (like the potato, also because of my round, bald head).
I won't get bored on this blog, though, even if I have to be here, because I love writing. And I love teaching. And I'm told by various internet resources that it's easier to get a job teaching "in this day and age" if you know a thing or two about technology and can prove it. So, here's to proving it.
Of course, I'm "connected" and "friended" (and "proficient in Microsoft Office applications"), but it's harder to be one person online than it is in real life. So many great poets I know have poet websites that mention nothing about their personhood and the many great things they do. Are people interested in poets only as poets and not as people? I like that poets are people. But perhaps I am in the minority.
So, this is the place for all of that. I will talk about the strange state of poet/personhood, the curry I had for dinner, my new frankincense and myrrh candle, the poem I'm trying to write while my son is talking to me about the next-best Lego whatever that's so much cooler than last month's version of the exact same thing, or the baby booties (find the pattern here) I made for my brand new twin nieces. I'll talk about things I'm reading and art I love. I'll link to my favorite etsy stores, friends' pages, recipes, poems...
Each post will be a glut of things that matter to me that day. Honestly. As in, for real. As in, I don't care if it's not hip to talk about my kid at this poetry reading, he keeps getting texts from girls and someone needs to know about it. As in, oh, right, PTG, I need to toss in this Anne Sexton reference, because it's the only analogy that makes sense right now.
It's the end of the day, and I'm tired of keeping the me's apart. So, here they will converge.
I got a twitter account because I had to, but it was a boring place to be, so I never went back. I sign up for all sorts of things just to see what they're about, or because I have to, but then I get bored. For the record, things I "have to" do, generally bore me. It's why I can't write poems sometimes. Sometimes, I think, "Man, I really have to start writing poems!" and then I can't: Boring! Instead of writing, I will:
crochet an afghan,
take pictures of my cat,or start a blog.
When I was a kid, Uncle Don would say, "Ang, you better not lick that wall!" and I would immediately lick the wall. When Uncle Don said, "You better go to the bathroom before we hit the road," I'd hold it for hours. He called me "Goose," because I was silly like a goose. My other childhood nicknames include: Moonie (because of my large, round face/head. Also, I was bald until I was about 5) and Spuds (like the potato, also because of my round, bald head).
I won't get bored on this blog, though, even if I have to be here, because I love writing. And I love teaching. And I'm told by various internet resources that it's easier to get a job teaching "in this day and age" if you know a thing or two about technology and can prove it. So, here's to proving it.
Of course, I'm "connected" and "friended" (and "proficient in Microsoft Office applications"), but it's harder to be one person online than it is in real life. So many great poets I know have poet websites that mention nothing about their personhood and the many great things they do. Are people interested in poets only as poets and not as people? I like that poets are people. But perhaps I am in the minority.
So, this is the place for all of that. I will talk about the strange state of poet/personhood, the curry I had for dinner, my new frankincense and myrrh candle, the poem I'm trying to write while my son is talking to me about the next-best Lego whatever that's so much cooler than last month's version of the exact same thing, or the baby booties (find the pattern here) I made for my brand new twin nieces. I'll talk about things I'm reading and art I love. I'll link to my favorite etsy stores, friends' pages, recipes, poems...
Each post will be a glut of things that matter to me that day. Honestly. As in, for real. As in, I don't care if it's not hip to talk about my kid at this poetry reading, he keeps getting texts from girls and someone needs to know about it. As in, oh, right, PTG, I need to toss in this Anne Sexton reference, because it's the only analogy that makes sense right now.
It's the end of the day, and I'm tired of keeping the me's apart. So, here they will converge.
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