Art School Semester #3: Check.

This is it. I leave the city early tomorrow morning. I only have one semester of art school left. (Of courses, anyway - we have another 3 years to do our thesis, I plan on only taking one). I cannot believe the semester is over. In some ways this has trudged by - I remember the first day of school and thinking, "why are there so many first years in my classes?" because I didn't recognize anyone. And now we're making plans to workshop pieces, send book lists, hang out, etc. I had two amazing professors this semester, Eileen Myles (whom BUST magazine called "the rock star of modern poetry") and Rebecca Godfrey. Both had syllabi that introduced me to compelling new writers that broke the mold of the "literary canon" that's been full of dead white men. And the occasional mention of Virginia Woolf. And I felt more like an "artist" this semester than I have....ever, I think.

High Points of the Semester:
1. Having Eileen Myles as a prof and actually like, having conversations with her.
2. Meeting author Laurie Weeks (also mentioned in Hot Topic song and was a screenwriter for "Boys Don't Cry") and having her tell me to *trust myself*, even though you'll be told not to.
3. Reading. In public. With the rest of Eileen's class. We put it together at a gallery, had Bob Gluck come, Cecelia Dougherty was there (another Hot Topic mention), and we had a pretty big turnout, if I do say so myself. I was terrified, but I did it.
4. Becoming facebook friends and email buds with Lidia Yuknavitch, whose memoir is just so kick-ass-tastic and called Holden Caulfield a "whiny little bitch." ha!
5. Visits to the Strand.
6. Getting to know more first-years, who are a pretty great bunch.
7. Having two Australian roommates who are normal and not crazy and actually eat Vegimite.
8. My discovery of Old Navy performance fleece. Why did no one tell me about this before? Why wear anything else?

Low Points of the Semester:
1. Still trying to figure out thesis....illness/death memoir of aunt, Southern lit's influence on me.....we shall see. Maybe I will just write ALL THE THINGS.
2. All this medical stuff which has, as of right now, been diagnosed as Essential Tremor. It used to be called Benign Essential Tremor, but it is far from benign. It's a progressive neurological condition that causes, you guessed it, tremors. I have bad ones in my hands, legs, and a slight one in my head, that the neuro picked up. But my doctor is wonderful - he is one of those doctors that you really just want to thank for being who he is - never rushed, thoughtful, personable, treats you as a person.....too bad he's married. Cause I think he's Jewish, too. :(
3. Financial cost of living in NYC.
4. Dropping the famous J-school book seminar I earned my way into.
5. Having one of the meds my doc put me on have the same effect as Ambien does on me - I woke up the next day to a "thank you for your order" email from Old Navy that I had no recollection of. Thankfully, my medicated me simply did holiday shopping for other people's gifts. Practical, even when drugged.
6. My pre-Thanksgiving subway/cab/running adventure with a first year, Hal. It was like a bad holiday movie. The subway was held up, we got out and tried to get a cab, no luck, we're running through Penn Station.......yeah. He offered to hold my bag. He's quite the gentleman. But he's like, 22. A fetus.

I'm actually surprised there are more high points, because it's been a rough semester emotionally and physically, but I think the ET has had a lot to do with it. When you have a chronic condition but it's invisible, people think you're fine. No one would ever give up a seat on the subway for me, even though sometimes my legs shake very badly. (But I'd give it to an old person first). When I bail on events because I have to come home after class and nap because a two hour period of being "on" is exhausting, it's hard to explain that to people. Since we thought maybe it was MS in the beginning, I found a pretty cool group of young people on Instagram, Twitter, etc, who have MS. They completely understand when I feel like people think I have the DTs because I shake - because sometimes people think they're drunk if they slur or off balance. They understand the sheer fatigue that really no sleep can make better. And they have a wicked sense of black humor.

I have a lot to do over break. Write. Read. A lot. More. It was my goal to read 200 books this year; I've surpassed that and now am trying to hit 300, but I'm not sure it will happen. got some catching up to do.
good times.

gift to myself.

By the time I post this, it will be my birthday. My 32nd birthday. It almost doesn't seem real. Like, this means I am actually an adult. I am in my early 30's. Has life turned out the way I planned? Hell no. Am I happy with this life? Most of the time. I am happy that I am privileged enough to have these two years of writing, I am happy that I found a home in Chapel Hill, and I am lucky to have wonderful friends and family. I never thought I'd be an aunt by now, and for that, I am immeasurably grateful. But I've been thinking a lot about life, and I figured now's a good a time as any to make this announcement.

In three years, I will be 35. Or as OB/GYNs like to call it, "advanced maternal age." Having worked in maternal-child health, I know my fertility has already probably taken a nosedive before I turned 30. In fact, I like to envision my eggs bouncing around my ovaries with bifocals on, Depends, pushing walkers, and using canes. Some cracks here and there, but they're mine. I know women have had babies later in life. My own doctor had her daughter as a single mother at the age of 42. Sandra Bullock adopted in her 40s. So here it is: If I do not meet THE GUY before I turn 35, I am wholeheartedly pursuing single motherhood by choice. (SMBC). Lots of women do it. I know I would be an excellent mother. Without a doubt. I know it's hard work. But I am not willing to forgo the experience of being a mother just because I don't meet the right guy in time. If I have to have IVF, IUI, adopt - I don't care. I'd freeze my eggs now, if I had the money. My child does not have to look like me to be mine. Whether it comes to me or through me, whether it grows in my uterus or my heart, it really doesn't matter. My child(ren) are out there somewhere, and when the time is right, it will happen.

I've been thinking about this for a while, because there's almost nothing more that I want than to become a mother. Being with kids and taking care of them is one of the few things that comes naturally to me, that I don't second-guess myself at. It's a no-brainer. But it's not like you can really post this on your Facebook page or make an announcement at Thanksgiving dinner - hey, if I don't meet the right guy, I'm knocking myself up! Not quite. But knowing that I have a plan in mind, knowing that I do not have to give up being a mother if I don't find the right guy, makes me very happy. It makes my heart settle. And maybe things don't have to follow the order of that childhood rhyme we were all taught - maybe a baby can come first, then love, then marriage. In the end, does it really matter, anyway?

18 miles of my heart

After living in the city for more than a year, I have come to know that I need places of refuge - places where I can go and lose myself and forget everything around me. One of those places has become the Strand. Tourist snark aside, what's not for me to love? It's a musty, old, sprawling bookstore with 18 miles of books, new and used. There are hidden corners with tables stacked with books you never knew you needed, and most, if not all the books, are discounted. I recently found the $2 galley section, which was great, but they've massively cut that back, which is uber-disappointing. But seriously? I could stay here all day. Just wandering the aisles, smelling the books, marveling at how many stories are held in this building. And right across the street is The Bean, a really cool coffee place that has the best iced pumpkin coffee.
When I walk into the Strand, I relax. My shoulders drop and immediately I can breathe easier. I am among books and those who love them. It's like a treasure hunt, always looking for the next great book.  Or sitting in an aisle, people-watching and eavesdropping on conversations. The Strand has captured my heart.
And their tote bags are adorable. I don't care if they're touristy. So are backpacks. so there.

this song still makes me cry.

Tonight, as I walked out of my brother's house on our way to dinner, I smelled, for the first time this season, someone burning their fireplace. It smelled so good. You don't get that in NY. It's so nice, the relative quiet here. NY is jangling my nerves like no other. It is ALWAYS noisy, always over-sensory, alwaysalwaysalways.

so, I admit, I have ben listening to James Taylor more than I probably should, and looking forward to going down South to recharge. I need this. My body, soul and health need it.

thanks a lot

Trey and I, at our best.

So it's been a while. This semester has kicked my ass seven ways from Sunday. Everyone is feeling it, and Thanksgiving break could not come at a better time. This year, the holiday season is disorienting a little bit. Last year it was full of grief, sickness, anticipatory mourning, sadness and death. From Thanksgiving right on up through Jan 1. It is weird to be back in the "normal" world, if that makes sense. For the first time, I will not be going to my aunt's for Thanksgiving. This is odd to me. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it. Because this time last year, each of us had our thing we were bringing for dinner. I think the whole thing still surprises me and catches me off guard.

That being said, I am very thankful for so many things this year.
1. as always, my nephew Trey
2. my family, for everything - really
3. my health - even with the recent Essential Tremor dx, I am thankful that it is not a bad tremor and that I am in the hands of such a great doctor
4. memories

It feels odd to make a list, because there's so much going on in my head that I am thankful for all of it and nothing is coming out right. Life has been discouraging and frustrating lately. But I'm alive. I still get a smile on my face when "Fame" comes on my iPod when I'm walking to school or on the subway. Or when "Sweet Child O'Mine" comes on, and I remember singing to Trey as a baby. I am thankful for friends who have stood the test of time, and for sorority sisters who, even after 10 years of no contact, will offer to drive you if you need to go anywhere because of your health stuff. I am thankful for my Narrative Medicine people. For professors who go the extra mile. For established writers who make time for "nobodies" - you guys are my rock stars, pretty much. For J.Crew, aka Garanimals for adults. For Starbucks red cups. For my Jeep. For the books whose pages I've dogeared and passages I've underlined so many times the pen bleeds through the page. For Carolina blue and being a Tar Heel. For monogramming. I'm thankful that my brother has made such a wonderful life for himself and is a wonderful daddy. For people who saw me apply to this MFA program 6 years ago and not get in, and are taking this journey with me now. I am thankful for music. For the feel of Trey's hand in mine and his excitement as we went to the "liberry" for the first time. I am thankful that I didn't give up this crazy dream of being a writer. I'm thankful for grace.

Grace.

Strand, I just can't quit you.

Yup, this year is definitely doling out an ass-kicking. I come home from class and either write for my job, read, or sleep. Lots of work this year, lots of writing....but then again, that's kind of the point, no? When things get me down, though - which has been a lot lately - I go to the Strand. Which is what heaven must be like, I think. Yes, it's touristy. But it's also 18 miles and floors and floors of books. Carts outside selling books for $1, $2, $3. And......this will be the death of me......they sell Advance Reader's Copies for $1.99. Yes. I found books that are coming out next year, that caught my eye on websites, for two bucks each. I left last week with 8 ARCs. For less than $17. I mean, come on - at two bucks, they're begging you to  buy them. :)

second-year slacker.

Okay, I've been really bad about updating. But let me just say, second year is kicking my butt, running me over, backing up and running me over again. Things just seem incredibly busy. I love it, but it's exhausting. And I'm writing for a NYC-based website, so I'm trying to get as much work done as I can for them. All this while still struggling with this ridiculous fatigue. It's rare that I don't take at least one nap each day. Which really lowers my productivity. Anyway. We'll see what happens.

I do miss North Carolina. There are days where the homesickness comes over me so quickly I gasp. But it's not a searing pain like last year. Maybe because I am holding out hope of getting a job down there next year? I am craving a Bojangle's chicken biscuit like nobody's business, let me tell you. But for now I will have to make do with Cheerwine.

My classes are amazing. This Tuesday, 2 classmates and I are leading a discussion of ZIPPER MOUTH for my genre class -- and the author is going to be there. Eileen (professor) goes, "oh, by the way, Laurie's a friend of mine, so she'll be joining us." I swear my jaw hit the table. No pressure or anything. but I'm super excited about it -- this is why I came here. I have a wonderful workshop group, and my anti-heroines class is awesome, plus I've been emailing with the author Lidia Yuknavitch about her books, one of which I'm doing a project on for that class. I kind of want to BE Lidia.

I've read some really awesome books lately. Vanessa Veselka's ZAZEN was a book I've been wanting to read for over a year now, and could never find it. My friend Carrie picked it up when she went to Powell's, in Portland, and sent it to me when she was finished. It is the most odd, most lyrical/magical/not-quite-dystopian/off-center book, and I loved it. Something about the writing kept me reading. It's about this girl Della, who had a breakdown in college a few years ago. While working in a cafe, she becomes obsessed with self-immolators, and starts calling in bomb threats to places. Except eventually, the places she once called or imagined calling, start being bombed or attacked. It's hard to explain. But it's worth a read. Wendy Lawless is having her publisher send me a review copy of her memoir that comes out in January, CHANEL BONFIRE. I'm super excited about it and am planning on reviewing it for the Columbia lit mag website. And of course, the newest BEST AMERICAN ESSAYS, 2012 edition. This essay collection is a great thing to read if you're a nonfiction writer. Some alums from Columbia were in the 2011 edition, and every year there's a different guest editor. I have yet to be disappointed in these anthologies.
Sheila Heti is coming to Columbia to lecture (as is AM Homes and Mary Karr - HOW PSYCHED AM I????), so I read her newest book, HOW SHOULD A PERSON BE?. It's gotten rave reviews for being experimental, edgy, genre-bending......and I had to force myself to finish it. It's a novelized memoir of sorts that combines stream of consciousness, playwriting style, etc, and basically explores the question of how should a person be - especially if they are an artist. I don't know. Something about it felt forced and overly self-conscious, almost like Heti made the decisions she did with the idea of being "edgy" in mind. Or being transgressive. Not to mention it felt immensely pretentious and self-absorbed. (Yes, I get that memoirs are generally self-absorbed on principle, but there's a wrong way and a right way of doing it). So I guess I'll go to her lecture, if only to hear this darling of the young literati talk about her process. I just wish I enjoyed her book more. Maybe I'll try her short story collection.

And on another note, my ten year college reunion was this weekend. I'm old.

First week done!

Well, the first week is over. My thursday class, Anti-Heroines, was great, too. I am super excited because the reading list is so kick-ass. Again, I can't believe I have to read these books. Although I'm rereading "Wuthering Heights" right now for the class and am slogging through, tempted to just get Clif Notes. Yes, apparently I still think like a high schooler. But seriously, the classes I have this semester feel different. I don't know if it's simply a function of being a second year, or what, but they feel more like how art school should be. I don't know if I said that in the previous post. The work is intense already, and I am feeling stressed because of thesis, publishing, jobs, etc. Have you ever wanted something that seemed unreachable, so much you could feel every cell in your body wanting it? That's me with writing. For so long I thought it wasn't "practical", so I abandoned it. But now I'm back. 

My nephew's first week (2 days) of kindergarten is done, too. I was so nervous for him. Maybe because every single morning of my kindergarten year, I would beg my mother to let me go to work with her, that I didn't want to go to school.....in my defense, I WAS ONLY FOUR. Gimme some slack. I remember so well pleading with her. But then, like, an hour after she was gone, I was fine. Every. Day.  But Trey? He took it like a little man and didn't even cry. I am so proud of him. I really hope he likes school and that he has friends and does well. He is so tender and sensitive and I hate to think of him dreading to go to school every day, for whatever reason. 

My tremors are getting more noticeable, and worse. Now I have a postural tremor in addition to the intention tremor, which means when I'm standing, my legs shake, just standing up. It gets even worse walking down steps. I'm terrified I'm going to face plant one of these days on Columbia's cement steps. I mean the shaking is noticeable when I'm wearing long pants, even. When I hold my iPhone, I can see it wobbling out of the corner of my eye. When I go to put on a necklace, I have to try repeatedly to clasp it because of the tremors. In class it's become embarassing, because it looks like I'm nervous or in withdrawl. To be honest, I just feel a general weakening. I don't like walking around anymore outside because I get tired so easily and my legs feel wobbly. Like I told my mom, I feel like Bambi. You know, when he tries to stand on his legs and keeps falling? The MRI was clear, I have a vitamin B12 deficiency, but the doctor doesn't know for sure if that's what's causing this. Basically, it feels like a loss of control of my body. I just watch my hands shake and it's ridiculous. 

Anyway......fall is almost here (though you'd never know it, with this heat and humidity). Pumpkin spice lattes are back, I'm eating pumpkin tortelloni, and I'm going to pick up apple cider. The farmers market will start selling the hot cider, too. yum. 

last first day.

Today was my last first day of school as a student. *I think I can hear my family cheering from here.* It's a nice feeling. Scary, but nice. I love how I've managed to combine my medical interests and background with something I've always done and loved, writing. I love the leap of faith I took. It causes me stress and is hard, but I think it will be worth it.

My nephew's first day of kindergarten is Thursday. I am scared and happy for him. I totally understand why parents cry the first day of school - I feel like crying. I know if I were there I'd totally cry. I can't believe he is old enough to finally go to school. Where did the time go? I'm scared because I know how mean kids can be, and Trey doesn't have a mean bone in his body. I hope no one picks on him or is mean to him. He can be really shy around lots of people, which I understand - but I hope it doesn't make him too upset. I hope he doesn't get too overwhelmed with the work, and hope he does well. He gets frustrated easily, but he is so smart. I worry about his heart. I don't want it to break any more than it already has.

And don't even get me started on thinking about kidnappers/safety. I think when I have a child I will be a wreck until they are older.

His going to kindergarten reminds me of the back-to-school shopping lists we used to get - pencil cases, glue sticks, scissors, calculator.....I remember going and picking out my Lisa Frank folders, my Trapper Keepers - had to get just the right one - the right pens, and of course, picking out THE LUNCH BOX. Back in the day, they were plastic and had a matching thermos inside. Do they even have them anymore? It was such a big decision, which lunch box design to choose. I remember one of mine, a pale pink one with a girl picking flowers on it. I don't remember the rest. (Because, naturally, you got a new one every year). To this day, the fall always makes me want to go to Staples or OfficeMax and get school stuff. That, and go to BedBathandBeyond. Such a rite of passage, all those years, getting ready for the year ahead. Parents selecting things for their kid's apartment or dorm, coordinating colors for things, etc. I love this time of year.

just another Saturday morning in the city.

I went to the Strand today for the first time since my aunt died. I only note this because the last time I was there was when I got the phone call that she was in the hospital, and to quote my dad, it was "the beginning of the end." I haven't been back since. Until today.
I know it's a tourist trap. I know it's somewhat kitchy. BUT. BUT. It is Heaven. 18 miles of books. Books from floor to ceiling, marked down in price, some as low as five dollars. Outside, books for $1, $2, and $3. In fact, I got a book I've been wanting for only $1 today. And the writing "seminar" tote for $4. My favorite is the downstairs, where they have the medical books, memoir, literary nonfiction and so forth. I like the tables on the main floor, and I admit, the tote bags are so so so so cute, touristy as they are. The collection of Moleskine notebooks, Anne Taintor wallets and magnets, and cute sarcastic change purses all tempted me. I could spend hours and hours here. In fact, if a guy asked me on a date to the Strand, I think I would ask him to marry me right then and there.
Yes, the employees can sometimes be too cool for school, but today they were fairly nice and helpful. And I don't know what all the reviewers are talking about - everytime I've been in Strand, it's never been uncomfortably busy. Maybe I just tend to go at off-peak times? I've rarely even had to wait in line.

Afterward, I went across the street to The Bean, a very cute coffee place with padded benches and pillows around the perimeter of the store so you can rest comfortably while working at a table. They have delicious looking gluten-free macarons and vegan treats. The baristas aren't obnoxious, and the clientele seems relatively normal and down to earth. The iced coffee with half&half was just what I needed on the walk through Union Square.

So it was a really nice Manhattan morning, I must say. A day where I was happy to be in the city. It's nice to know those days still exist for me. It reminded me of when I used to live in the city before, in 03-04, and would explore downtown 'hoods by myself on the weekends, not thinking twice about it.

In the afternoon I did some work for a new website I'm writing for. It's a NYC-centric website that posts news and reviews of neighborhood venues, area happenings, etc. I'm hoping to get more work done tomorrow on that. Finished up workshop reading and doing some writing of my own.....so I feel pretty productive today. I have been waking up the last two mornings, grinding my teeth, but hopefully that's just temporary, until I feel more settled in.

Also, September is National Ovarian Cancer Awareness Month. Familiarize yourself with the signs and symptoms of ovarian cancer, talk with your doctor about your risk for the disease, and listen to your body. This cancer is a relentless killer, and the majority of women are diagnosed at a late-stage, decreasing survival rates. So wear your teal ribbons, visit the website of Teal Toes, donate to OCRF or the gyn-onc department of MSKCC....something. Anything. Other cancers like breast cancer have done wonders with fundraising and research and political/medical change - this needs to be done for ovarian cancer now.