Love & Happiness

Al Green on tv this morning, mega-watt smiling, yelping, ecstatic; I love him. The production on those songs, so analog, sounds so good. Can I join the Full Gospel Tabernacle?

***

Nervous, anxious, etc. Gah.

***

Tell me a secret.

Turns out

C. Dale's original theory on the lead-up silence over the last week (that my book had won a contest) was almost, kinda correct: I found out this weekend that it was in fact a finalist and was being passed on to the judge. I had sent them a note already, withdrawing it, when Black Lawrence picked up Notes; I guess they didn't get it? Still, it was cool, gratifying, to get the word.

5

I missed Buffy the first time around; I've never even seen an episode on television. I rarely watch tv to begin with, so I just never caught it, despite having a lot of friends who loved the show. I resisted. But, I bought the first season on sale last fall and was hooked. Since then, I've been methodically catching up. One of the consequences of the show being out there in the world, even though I wasn't watching, I knew by osmosis many of the major turning points/episodes in a general way: I knew what "Hush" was all about; I knew "Once More With Feeling" is a musical and I look forward to it; I knew about Buffy's deaths. That said, I sure as hell had no idea what "The Body" was about.

I'd heard of it, of course, that it was one of the great, classic episodes. But somehow I never heard what happened in it.

I'm not saying here, so I don't spoil it for anyone else.

The episode is too self-consciously structured to give each of the gang a showy moment of high acting; you can practically feel the stark rhythms of the episode changed up, see Willow, Xander, Anya, et al, step forward into a script spotlight and begin to emote. It feels both appropriate and contrived at once and that bothered me. That said, it's just a pulverizing episode in which I spent most of the time choked up. I had no idea.

Go read

Mot Juste 2

Drum roll

I will be teaching here.

Tom Petty was right

The waiting is the hardest part. I hate this sitting around, though I think I could handle it better if the timeline weren't so pressing. But it is. And it's no easy feat for me to up and move four and a half hours away, not with everything I have to contend with. It actually isn't all that much, really; it just has to be there, be in place, in time. A place to live that I can get in and out of as I please; help to get in and out of bed, get dressed, that sort of thing. It's not so much. But it's everything. And it can be hard to find. I'm contenting myself with doing something everyday to help make all this happen. That's assuming I get the job. I should know by the end of this week, the beginning of the next. There's no sense in doing nothing in the meantime so I've tracked down and contacted many people. This is when I begin to feel the extremity of dependence: I can only do so much.

Ok

C. Dale's theory was fun, that my book had won a contest and I was in a quandary over what to do. But, no. I'm pretty certain I notified each of the presses that were looking at it, so I don't expect anything like that to happen.

No, what's happened is that I'm up for a new position somewhere; I interviewed yesterday. I think my chances are good.

If I'm offered the job, holy crap, it'll be a massive challenge to get set up in so short a time.

Who wants to help me move?

:)

Not the lottery

I will persist in my silly fertive secrecy for just a bit longer....

Still alive

Possible unexpected developments have me scrambling, though. Afraid to jinx by saying anything here.

To blog, or ...

Not?

Peeling the onion

Victoria and Todd will recognize the subject header. They arrived yesterday around five or so; I had been sitting outside in the blustery day, waiting for some sight of them pulling up, but then decided to go in for a while. I turn on some Percy Sledge in my room, and couldn't hear them knocking. But I had that extra-sensory idea that they might be at the door and, sure enough, Todd was peeking through the window. We talked for a bit then walked downtown, where we had dinner at Sticky Fingers, a bluesy local BBQ place. Such fun. Good conversation. Afterwards, I did the tourist guide thing, taking them down to the aquarium, the river, to the spot where I fell (complete with still visible blood stains!), and across the Walnut Street Bridge, where we got ice cream at Clumpie's. Victoria surprised me with a t-shirt from there, which she should not have done. Too very sweet.

By then, both of them were tired, having driven from Asheville, so we walked back and they drove to their hotel downtown. I was sad to see them go. I hate that I know so many good people scattered across the country, the world. Still, I'm blessed all the same.

Flame ... on?

Man, Fantastic Four is a pile of junk. It's agreeable in its way, amiable, but lacking anything that approaches cleverness or elegance or audacity. It looks like a moderately budgeted television episode and feels like that. Nothing much ever happens and when it does it's over before it ever really begins. I predict people will like it, despite its generally rotten reviews. It's light and fun, but fun of a sort that isn't truly fun.

***

Dinner tomorrow night with Miss Victoria Chang and husband Todd. I'm looking forward to that very much, though squalls of Dennis-rain may be dumping all about us by then. To which I say, bah. And double bah.

***

What is the internet trying to tell me? IM's keep popping up, inviting me to join, absolutely free of charge, an online dating service.

The internet loves me, wants me to be happy, is baking brownies right now in the kitchen and whatever song it's singing, well, I think it sings to me.

Look how they shine for you

Listening to a lovely cover of Coldplay's "Yellow" by Petra Haden with Bill Frisell, while CNN mutely loops the news from London. The disconnect is apparent.

***

Not feeling so great today. I didn't sleep well, too cold, so now I'm foggy, slo-mo. And it's grey, cool, windy out. O for sun like a girl, girl like a sun, to warm these bones.

Me, a few days ago.  

Zombie

This weekend I saw both War of the Worlds and Land of the Dead. In some ways, I preferred Land: it has a chilly blue tint that's wonderfully atmospheric and some of the ideas about the evolution of the zombies are neat. As for War, I enjoyed it a lot: it has some of the best special effects ever seen, cunningly staged. The tripods lumbering about on the horizons are startlingly real, holographic almost. And there a half-dozen brilliant set pieces effortlessly realized by Spielberg, but I can't escape the feeling the movie's insistence on keeping its focus personal deflates the movie somewhat rather than elevating it. The devastation is epic, but not quite epic enough.

***

I'll be posting some pics of me later today, I think.

***

Everything healing up nicely here. My arm is still sore but getting better; it's going to be the slowest recovery. My face is better, though I catch people staring, which is funny. A lady in Eckerd's asked if I got in a fight. "With the ground," I said.

***

4th was nice enough here, with evening rain. Firecrackers popping through the night.

Movies today

I'm fit for public visual consumption again. Or getting there. Almost. Bruises fading. Cuts and scrapes beginning to heal. Still have the black eyes, but at least the swelling is down. The only thing still causing a good bit of pain is my left arm: I sprained it pretty good and it's holding on to its aggrieved status. Lots of Advil for me.

But I'm alive and well.

***

Looking forward to next week when Victoria Chang and her husband will be here in Chattanooga. Victoria will be coming from Warren Wilson in North Carolina on her way to Sewanee, which is atop Monteagle Mountain, which is just outside the city. It'll be good to see them again.

***

War of the Worlds today.