word

this article on words is pretty sweet

Finally I am back on the odd posting tip. other newz:

1. critical mass at 5:30 tonight (I can't go:<)
2. david lynch tonight @ 7:30 at battell chapel (gonna try to make it)
3. tricia, our mighty leader, in town tomorrow
4. c.p. show at rudy's on this saturday night with spheres who are pretty great.
5. apples? letterboxing? let me know

Beverly

that which i cannot explain.

anne fadiman made a comment about all of her students knowing the difference between that and which. though beth and i played it cool, we weren't sure about that rule. however, i knew i had just "learned" it, so here is my best approximation of it (after looking it up in my notes):
that is part of a restrictive clause and limits the meaning to a single object. ie - i want the kind of car that henry has.
which creates the non-restrictive clause, adding information to an already identified object. ie- my car, which is dusty, needs to be washed. which is always set off by commas.
****
so this is my interpretation of it. i'm wondering if she taught this in siri's course, or if it took a few rounds of students to get frustrated enough to drill it into their heads. please (anyone) correct or add if needed.

minutes. monday. 26 september 2005.

in a timely fashion!

*siri - "i'm questioning my purpose in blogging ... an existential blogging crisis."
*siri - "this is an our town for our times." (in reference to SR's play)

two brief one-act plays.
one.
SR: only things that are dear to me go on my ass.
BR: your woman!
SR: my man. (beat) my man's woman.
two.
(a discussion of clorox clean-up occurs. SR is revolted by the smell, sarah sings its praises)
beth: that shit kills HIV.
sarah: yeah, i often spray it up my vagina when i get nervous.
fin.

also, "talk about not taking responsibility for youself, old people have the market cornered on that" - SR (paraphrased)
and finally....
MOLOTOVS!!!!! MOLOTOVS FOR ALL!!!!!!!!!!!

things i'd like to tell you about my day.

on my walk to retrieve my poor, abandoned bicycle, i saw a telephone-pole-flyer announcing that bret easton ellis will be reading at the new haven FREE public library on thursday as part of the writers live! series (i really wish i had their wacky font for that). i don't think anyone reading this is interested in that, but it's a name i recognize so i thought i'd pass the word along.
also, during my indulgence into magazine land, i saw this writers' digest special edition titled "personal writing." all about the journal, the personal essay, and -oh yes!- the blog. it made me chuckle a bit, and i can't believe that i am such a sucker of a consumer that i considered, for a moment, purchasing it. as if i didn't already know it would be a waste of money, landing on a page that had a bunch of blank lines and instructions to remember your favorite holiday was the kicker.
there was also a new yorker special edition about salaries, and the cover had "blogger" listed at $30,000. so, i'm wondering, where is all of this cash? who is hoarding it? miss cat, i'm looking at you here....
i think that is all.
oh! also, i would like to have one last cookout before it's too late. since i will be late to tomorrow's meeting, i think tomorrow would not be a good time for it (because i will cry if i miss it). but, also, i think it should be an all-inclusive thing (ie, robin, jon-fen, um.....my imaginary friends) instead of a writerly thing. so why am i talking about it here? bad. bad.
i have some vegetables, they'll need to be eaten up soonish, let's get to it.
word.

cannolis

A moment of silence now for the cannolis I just ate. If ever there was evidence of my bankrupt italian heritage, my love for them is it. I have a tray of fresh ones from an italian bakery in BPT, and I wonder, do I eat them now, while they are fresh, or do I save them for tomorrow night's carlos projeckt show @ cafe nine, where I plan to finally eat some of their delicious food, and then pull pasty from the purse. oh, what a modern conundrum.

zips!!

i just saw zipper! unfortunately i was in my car, so we didn't get to hang out, but he was doing that cute cat think where he was itching the side of his face with his back paw. you know, when it moves all fast and crazy? cute.

minutes. monday. september 19, 2005.

funny you should request that, bev.

reunited and it feels so good....
i forgot the write down the menu! let's see...soy&flax seed tortilla chips, hummus, crazy salsa, yummy bread, samosas, and, of course, a fine array of delicious norse chocolates. fear not. we saved the fancy wine for our creator's imminent visit.

*beth proclaims, "late summer is dying time."
*siri comes up with a scheme for smuggling a kitten home from norway, involving a feigned pregnancy, animal sedatives, and an absorbant pouch.
*"i don't think i could be an alcoholic, but i could be a wine-aholic." -siri lakshmi
*an entertaining little skit by beverly and steveross:
SR-all comedians think they're philosophers when they're not doing comedy.
B-how can you make a blanket statement like that?
SR-i'm a comedianist.
*SR ruminates on the definition of gauche
*"i can't even believe we're having this conversation. i'm gonna go slit my wrists." -beth, regarding kitsch vs. camp conversation
*the performance of steveross's play .... i simply cannot even begin to describe this, except to say that beth makes an incredible sorcerer
*reminder - things to google: "bush handwriting" and "brown's resignation letter" (which i've heard reads like a comedy routine)
*regarding SR's play: "it's timely" (beth) "it's timeless" (sarah) explosive laughter (all)
*SR and beth kick it again:
SR-kafka wrote a bunch of fragments...
B-that were as good as my poems!
SR-i think, beth, you are my Id. everything i think, you express"
*"i guess adolescence is cliche" - SLS
"that's why when you see teenagers you say [insert noise of irritation and disgust]" -SR
*"we need another australia is what we need" - SR (though i really thought siri had said this....please verify)
*SR- did you just say that reminded you of me, steve ross-y?
all others- no. i said bossy.

i never wrote the previous week's minutes, but that mostly consisted of the game of Life, which sarah lost again, though this time at least not to a 10 year old.

also, i think i need to control my wine intake, as i don't even really understand some of my notes. or that could just be that they never made sense in the first place.

I wants me some minutes

Sally I was too lazy to take notes on Monday. Where are you? In the meantime I offer up this sky in Cedar Rapids, where they make our dogfood & cereal, and where the kernels play all american baseball.

Examination of species: Homo sapiens sapien

The wretched philosoph, Duncan Björn Pettibone III once quipped before the academy of sciences, "Where there is reflection, you will find man. Hate, likewise. But where there is bullfighting, you'll find a matador."

I think that these words of Doctor Pettibone's ring especially true for the denizens of the Elm City and its neighboring bergs, what with the fantastic actions of New Haven Writer's Club. NHWC has seen its fair share of triumphs and pitfalls, but it has grown only stronger from the struggle. There is the tale of young Siri Lakshmi, alone in the swamp and enfeebled by a dose of moldering antibiotics, wandering from mangrove to mangrove, all the while uttering simply, "My work visa has been declined. My women's briefs are soiled and rotten." And what of brave Beverly, her hair aflame with madness and c'est pour vivre, howling to the Great Den Mother as she gobbled up her children, all of them crying, "Dear lord, our guts are being shorn from our lives!" And lest we forget, dear reader, our wicked and profound Urf, the moon-dove's cry and the tribal man's mystery, her many eyes glaring across the sea, shining equilibrium and praise in her song "Wallao-Wallao, for the Cnidarian's Weep," which has been etched into leaf by the poet Essarr the Senior:

Lo! What surf has collided with mine breast,
the wake has folded me beneath,
and now,
lost and destitute,
I clutch the bivalves for their sympathy and stolidness,
drunk on crocodile's nectar,
gangrenous with pitiable

masculinity
femininity
yin
yang

sweaty in-betweens
swollen tissues
bloody
such bloody
hearts

[end bard's song]

Take heed of these trials, my intrepid reader and connossieur, for you may be the only one to pass them ever along.

ruling.

did you know that monday nights are my favorite?
(i think it was siri that said nhwc makes mondays into a day you look forward to...)

postcards

greetings from 83 mechanic street, the exotic locale that rounds out my insane itinerary. i hope you all received your postcards. i would like to assign a writing excercise (which i too will participate in--i am turning over a new leaf with my lazy writerly ways and perfectionism):

write a short short or poem (non-haiku, sorry you know i love them but...) about one of the postcards you were sent. i think this should be fun given the weird cards i chose for you. (steveross, did you get yours via sarah?)

alrighty. formal congrats going out to homegirl b.w. for her slamdunk shortshort-style! oh yes, and i brought back about 20 pounds of fine nordic chocolate (some vegan for sr) and a really really expensive bottle of french wine (care of my dad) which, if we all bring a new piece to monday's club, i will open and we will ply ourselves with the subtle blood of snotty european grapes. little penguin, papio and fat bastard eat your hearts out!

for fans of felines

If you like stuff on cats, you might also like cats in sinks. For next week, write an ode to one of these cats, or put a cat in a sink in your story.

triumph!

Dear Beverly:

I’m pleased to inform you that we’d like to include your stories, “We Change Our Names,” “The Mouse House,” “In Vegas,” and “Call Carmine” in issue eight of Quick Fiction. Thank you for contributing your work to our journal!

Editor J.

Finally, some evidence that the universe sometimes sends moonshine my way. But, unbenownst to me, this journal is edited by a former classmate, and I believe she remembered me, so this is further proof that knowing someone (even if you didn't know when you sent that you know someone) totally gets you somewhere.

Check it

Hi all. Hopefully you don't need a subscription in order to use this link.
__________________________________
(you do, but i think we all have one and it's free if anyone doesn't. -sally)

our lovely elected official

do a google search on the word "failure"

the importance of club

S.E. Hinton, author of the Outsiders, is interviewed in today's New York Times. There is one piece of the article that I would like to hear more about. It says, "She has her weekly writing group, and she says she reads Jane Austen annually." She still lives in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where she grew up.

oslo

dear writerly pals,

i am taking the night train by myself to oslo tonight (sleeper car!) where i will spend the next 4 days staying in a downtown youth hostel. there will be internet there, so hopefully i will be able to send updates. love, siri

virtual postcard

hi guys,

i am sorry to hear of the chaos in new haven. i will be back on the 14th. today my step-grandmother died and it was horrible and i cannot get the image of her dead body out of my head. i am up alone now at 1am reading kavalier and clay to try and escape my own thoughts until i am too tired to remain awake. my time in norway has been really strange and transformative in a way i hope will prove to be positive--right now i just feel all torn up inside. on a positive note, i got the job at the register and will begin work on the 15th. also more 3dp orders have come in since i have been away. i miss you guys and can't wait to be home again. i have been thrift shopping at 'fretex' (the norwegian salvation army store) and have found lots of goodies for you all and will also be returning with lots of chocolate. i have swum in the north sea and saved the life of a hedgehog and fed two black swans. all-in-all september has been very intense and i for one feel that summer has ended on several different levels. here's to a really inspired and positive autumn. love, siri

NH......?

if SR puts the "W" in the NHWC, then SLS puts in the "C". without her, we are aimless individuals with no sense of unity. i insist that we gather soon, even if the literary premise is vague and flimsy.
goonies never say die!!!

(insert gloom & doom here)

please do not read this if you recently got married it is about the inevitability of divorce and I am not trying to be a downer, it is just very convincing and well-written.

friendly reminder.

i had a small freak out because i was thinking the deadline for the 20x20 thing might have passed. but it did not. november 24th, kids. just in time to relax and enjoy the tofurkey.

I suck

Dear Beverly Anne,

Thank you very much for sharing your talent with us! While we appreciate
your work and hope that you will continue to submit to DIAGRAM, we are
unable to accept these poems at this time.

Sincerely,
H. G.
Poetry Editor
DIAGRAM

Dudes, I am getting so unbelievably tired of rejection. The rest of you can at least hold out hope that when you do submit, you'll be promptly published. I am in a bad mood today, and then THIS! THIS! Fuck my talent! If my talent was so great why don't they want the poems! ARRGGGGG

Okay, now that's out of my system. Back to our regularly scheduled non-club activities.

all quiet on the western front

Club is in shambles. SLS is in Norway, SR is on grief hiatus, and Sally and I can't even put a pen to paper. At least I can flex the reading muscles. Highly recommended is this week's New Yorker all about cookie development and the egg chef masters of Las Vegas. I went for a walk today at five pennies park and watched a mom & daughter feed ducks because I was shooed out of the office because the old, crazy boss showed up here hysterical about the hurricane. The excitment never ends!