What I'm doing tonight!

Going to hear Lisa B. read her poetry at the CityArt series, of course!

Some history here. Lisa B. and I have known each other since we were grad students together at BYU a million years ago. When I first met her she was discussing foreign films with loads of passion, and I thought to myself, "Dude! I would like to know that girl!" And lo and behold we became the best of pals. When I first started writing columns for Parent Express, I used to call her and read what I'd written for her seal of approval. Also, whenever we had babies--WHICH WAS OFTEN--we'd show up for each other with casseroles. (Side note: Lisa's casseroles were always better than my casseroles, possibly because fresh mushrooms were involved with hers.) The fact that we're still in each other's lives all these years later is a source of pure joy for me.

I love Lisa's poetry. But that's not why I'm going tonight. I always like to see what Lisa's wearing. Hot damn! That girl has got the sparkle thing going on!

We Interrupt This Principled Discussion

. . . to tell you what I did this morning.

1. I met Lisa B. for breakfast, and
2. I refused to pay for my parking space with a credit card, so I
3. worried a little between bites of sausage and egg whites if
4. Mayor Becker was gonna get on his bike and
5. personally give me a ticket, in which case I
6. would have to explain that I didn't pay for my parking spot
7. because I am totally pissed off about credit card meters
8. for a variety of reasons, one of which is
9. that I can never remember what my stall number is by the time
10. I get to the payment booth, so then I have to
11. walk back to my stall to re-check the number over and over
12. like I have OCD, and also
13. WTH you can't tell if there's any time left over in a parking spot like you can with coins, which
14. makes me even pissier, and yes
15. I hold Mayor Becker and his bicycle personally responsible; the good news
16. is that apparently he got the ANN-IS-PISSED memo, because
17. I didn't get a ticket.
18. And also I had a nice breakfast.
19. Thanks for that, Mayor!

Wednesday Stats (with a nod to Lisa B.)

Over at High Touch Megastore, Lisa B. is fond of posting personal "stats." I am so in love with these entries of hers that I am brazenly stealing the format and using it myself. Thanks for that, Lisa B.!

CONSUMED: Two cans of Dr. Pepper, half a glass of Coke, cocoa, a scrambler with sun-dried tomatoes and artichoke hearts, hash browns, 3 cookies, 3 bites of a Snickers bar

WANT TO CONSUME: Vast amounts of Mexican food

MOOD: Lazy

LISTENED TO: Some generic heavy metal on some new generic heavy metal station on the car radio--was too lazy to change the channel

HEARD: That the Black Keys are coming to town in May--feel too lazy to buy tickets

VISITED WITH: Three of the five sons on the telephone and one of the two cats not on the telephone

CONFERRED WITH: Nicole from Westminster about her Masters Track Program

WROTE: Rough draft of a column wherein I discuss my desire to consume vast amounts of Mexican food in January

WATCHED: More MSNBC than is good for your brain

HOUSEWORK: Not yet

DECISIONS PENDING: Should Ken and I stay in tonight or go eat Mexican

Words to live by

For Christmas Sara Zarr gave me a lovely, inspiring little book called THE POCKET MUSE by Monica Wood. The bit below really speaks to me because I think it's so wise--and also because I love poetry, although I don't write it. I especially love the poems of my friend of many fabulous years, Lisa Bickmore. I always tell her she's my favorite poet in the history of the universe, along with W. B. Yeats. (She's cuter, though. Funnier, too.)

"There is a special throne in heaven for poets, who labor in obscurity. The rest of us harbor an unexpressed hope for fame and glory. You might be tempted to write for a market. You might be tempted to ride the crest of a trend. That kind of writing is about as stable and fulfilling as day trading. Write what interests you. Write what frightens you. Write what thrills you. Take a cue from the poets, bless their underfunded little hearts."

M-m-m-m-m-m

I love the way my friend Lisa B. always says "the people." So I'm stealing her phrase and here I go.

I got nothin' on the writing front to say, but THE PEOPLE I made an excellent "Sticky Toffee Pudding" today for a leetle luncheon and wow was it ever good. It was just a gooey, date-y, moist-y, thick-y, rich-y slice of Christmas dessert heaven.

Yes. I know. It's good to be me at the moment because I have some "Sticky Toffee Pudding" in the house.

Hello again

I don't know why I didn't blog at all this week. Apparently I lost my will to blog. Also live. Also eat cupcakes. It was a bad week in some ways, but I'm better now.

I was listening to (cliche alert!) NPR this morning on my way to (cliche alert!) the Farmer's Market this morning to watch fellow Salt Lakers (cliche alert!) sip coffee and parade their rescue dogs around Pioneer Park. ANYWAY. I was interested in the interview with a writer whose name I missed (but his British-type accent was dead sexy) who called the reading and writing of poetry a Slow Word Movement--not unlike the Slow Food Movement. His point, of course, was that to read poems, you have to slow down and savor what's there in order to have a meaningful experience.

I loved this little analogy and wanted to say one of the pleasures of this otherwise disappointing week was to read some poems by my friend Lisa Bickmore, who often posts here. She's all about the Slow Word Movement, and I feel nourished because she shared her work with me. She used to be my second favorite poet after W. B. Yeats. But now she is officially my favorite poet.

And actually now that I think about it--I saw and heard from several friends this past week and that was all good, too. Thank you, friends.

Yes. In my happy place now.