Guess What?

So I realized this is the kind of thing you might like to hear about. Since dropping Spanish, I have taken up a position on the Literary Magazine staff. We publish our high school literary journal at the end of each year, and I'm hoping the experience will reflect well on a career based in journalism and fresh ideas. Jobs and their descriptions were assigned on Thursday, and I was decided as one of two Deputy Editors-in-Chief. ...hyphenated? Job title spelling is probably something I should know. Anyway. I'm very excited. Along with a spot on the Poetry editing team as a General Editor, this spot directly beneath those who finalize the magazine will prove rewarding.

**Also: current and future Lit Mag assignments will probably find their way up here. I'm working on a few things right now, so I'll post them soon to find out what you think. Isn't this cool? I write post material for a set-aside hour each day and get class credit for it!

A Champion Imagined

Clearly, she had made a fatal mistake. The colored tetrapods stacked to the breaking point, and GAME OVER flashed so violently that even in her alternate reality where Tetris is an Olympic sport, she realized the gold would be impossible to win. An official would place the ribbon around her neck, from which would hang a chocolate coin. Hand placed over heart, she would hum along as her ringtone, The Office theme song, resounded throughout the stadium in her honor.

In this reality, the one where her only taste of Olympic victory will reach not her lips but her child's (if pushed hard enough for vicarious gymnastic stardom), she stumbles upon a shadow puppet not unlike a unicorn, followed by that of a dove. And as those same Tetris playing fingers flawlessly wield animal after animal against the wall, she realizes -- after sticking the most graceful dismount ever seen from a bed -- not that she had an inner heroine waiting to be discovered, but that over the next four years even this could be perfected....

An Interjection About the Process of Writing Something That You'd Like to Read More Than This Interjection

Which are your Those Days? You know, the "Have you been having one of those days?" days. My those days are stagnant. My motivations move in and out faster than I can say, "I need a nap," faster than the tendons in my hands flicker as I type. Higher than my motivation to read is the motivation to produce something as powerful as what I read. I am happy to say I have stumbled upon perhaps the greatest lesson of my writing career before the career's begun. Power finds me. It doesn't arrive when I hope it should or say it should, it doesn't appear as flawlessly or apparently as I'd like. But when I have too much to do, when I'm too busy or sleepy to even find a working pen -- that's when power seeps through what I'd decided was a pithy poem or convoluted paragraph of fiction. I will tell you that I hate that I can't control this. I often struggle with what I can't control. It's a fault I don't mind. And really, let's not even call it power. Call it magic. Or life. But whatever it is that pops from the page or screen, whatever it is that sticks with you and with me as a result, usually kicks me when I'm down. Kicks me to get back up again and write about what makes no sense. Because surprisingly? It makes sense to somebody most of the time.

And that makes no sense to me at all.

It's Been Flipping Forever,

due to a Missions Trip, Band Camp, and Post Band Camp.

I've gained...flex-worthy triceps, my annual freckles, funky tan lines, an uncanny affection for lip slurs and the occasional basics vocal,

and no new material :]

I'll work on something and get back to you.

I love you all. No lie.

Storm

you need something to hold on to. 

you need to stand in the rain.

you need to know, 

amidst the billowing philosophies that outline your truth,

an explanation for why, when you held on to the rain,

it seemed at that point more solid

than the ground beneath your knees.

because falling had become commonplace, 

and it seemed as though even the bottom

wouldn't stop you.

this challenges everything you've heard.

gravity is still gravity, you're told.

it still doesn't send you to the top.

all you know is that the top is taller than you.

before you return--

before you long to root your feet in the sky--

run.

it doesn't matter in which direction.

run barefoot through the glistening streets,

faster the rain falls,

as though you'll catch up with the wind.

and you'll find what you're looking for. 

you'll hold on to more than rain. 

{as read at Rhythm & Hues, 7.11.08}

The One. The Only.

Dave Matthews Band: Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre in Charlotte, NC on July 1, 2008. Are you ready for this?

THE Tim Reynolds.

And his opener, Michael Franti & Spearhead.

As you know if you've ever seen Dave live, this is not a show. It's an experience. That's the best way to put it. . .he opened with "The Stone" and closed with "Too Much." He covered Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" and Pink Floyd's "Money." He didn't play "Crush," but I think somehow I'll see past it. Even though Jeff Coffin of Bela Fleck and the Flecktones filled in for LeRoi (injured in an ATV accident), the band was top notch. Tim Reynolds' solos were righteous while his hair was...not. Their Atlanta show on the 7th gave this one a run for it's money, according to the setlist and personal opinion. You win some, you lose some, eh? Hah.

Also, Michael Franti was a wonderful performer. It was a near-perfect coupling. I thoroughly enjoyed (and danced to) his mix of reggae, hip-hop, and rock.

Monday's Haiku

first meal of the day
cheeseburgers aren't very good
when they're leftover