Poetry Reading at Geno's
Robin Merrill, Kristin Reiff & ME!
Thursday, Feb 23, 8 p.m.
Geno's
Congress St.
Portland, ME.
$3 cover. 21+.
I am reading with two other lovely Stonecoasters, and with musical accompianment! Poetry with the rockstar image it deserves!
WARNING -- Geno's gets pretty cold. Bring layers!
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Sunday, February 19, 2006
from McSweeneys.net
If Poets Named Breakfast Cereals.
BY JOSH MICHTOM
Orgasmic Clusters of Searing Pain
Bran and Plump Raisins, Pregnant With Earthy Promise
Opalescent Flakes of Lonely Night
The Sharpness of a Breath of Winter Air (with real strawberries)
Cookie-Crisp
BY JOSH MICHTOM
Orgasmic Clusters of Searing Pain
Bran and Plump Raisins, Pregnant With Earthy Promise
Opalescent Flakes of Lonely Night
The Sharpness of a Breath of Winter Air (with real strawberries)
Cookie-Crisp
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Sara Recommends
Etsy.com
A place to buy all those cool funky handmade things that you just can’t find at the Gap. No matter how authentic their cable knits may look! You can also sort items by color! Plus, you can sell your things on there as well. It’s more than just your typical doilies and tissue box covers you find at summer craft fairs. They have a whole section devoted to geekery. They also sell zines, which is a good forum because sometimes they are hard to find. And if anyone wanted to buy me these, I would love you long time. Or maybe not…
Pop Candy Blog
I have to admit, no matter how artsy I may come off – or not – I loves me my pop culture. I am selective about what I do watch and become a fan of, but what happens to all the rest I have a fleeting curiosity in? Thanks to Whitney, the writer of USA Today’s blog, she gives me quick hits on things I want just peruse. What I like about her is that she seems to be a discriminating connoisseur. Plus she has a link to Whedonesque on her blog. Most fans of Joss, are friends of mine.
Pumpkin Whoopie Pies
I never realized that whoopie pies were such a phenomenon until I moved out to New England. I don’t even think I ate one until I was out here. And, sorry, I am a transplant, I have never really enjoyed them that much. I love the first two bites, but after that, I am done with them. Until, I found, at our beloved Portland Public Market, a pumpkin whoopie pie. Pumpkin cookie with a cream cheese center. Now that is a whoopie I can stand behind. I made some last night…. And they are delicious.
The Ricky Gervais Podcast
You need to listen to it to believe how funny it is. I would try to sum it up, but I don’t think I could do it justice.
Curling
Oh my god, I love this sport. I think the accuracy and speed elements of this are fascinating. The way the players just glide on the ice, swishing those brooms so fast. Not to mention, one of the Italian players could be my skip any day.
Penn & Teller’s Bullshit
I just rented some of the first season – they debunk different things: talking to the dead, alternative medicine, alien abduction, and so on. It’s like freakshows on parade, but it does not seem too condescending to me. Penn is talking about how we as people are fallible too, and it’s understandable how we fall for some of these hoaxes. Plus, I am totally charmed by Teller. Don’t ask me why.
A place to buy all those cool funky handmade things that you just can’t find at the Gap. No matter how authentic their cable knits may look! You can also sort items by color! Plus, you can sell your things on there as well. It’s more than just your typical doilies and tissue box covers you find at summer craft fairs. They have a whole section devoted to geekery. They also sell zines, which is a good forum because sometimes they are hard to find. And if anyone wanted to buy me these, I would love you long time. Or maybe not…
Pop Candy Blog
I have to admit, no matter how artsy I may come off – or not – I loves me my pop culture. I am selective about what I do watch and become a fan of, but what happens to all the rest I have a fleeting curiosity in? Thanks to Whitney, the writer of USA Today’s blog, she gives me quick hits on things I want just peruse. What I like about her is that she seems to be a discriminating connoisseur. Plus she has a link to Whedonesque on her blog. Most fans of Joss, are friends of mine.
Pumpkin Whoopie Pies
I never realized that whoopie pies were such a phenomenon until I moved out to New England. I don’t even think I ate one until I was out here. And, sorry, I am a transplant, I have never really enjoyed them that much. I love the first two bites, but after that, I am done with them. Until, I found, at our beloved Portland Public Market, a pumpkin whoopie pie. Pumpkin cookie with a cream cheese center. Now that is a whoopie I can stand behind. I made some last night…. And they are delicious.
The Ricky Gervais Podcast
You need to listen to it to believe how funny it is. I would try to sum it up, but I don’t think I could do it justice.
Curling
Oh my god, I love this sport. I think the accuracy and speed elements of this are fascinating. The way the players just glide on the ice, swishing those brooms so fast. Not to mention, one of the Italian players could be my skip any day.
Penn & Teller’s Bullshit
I just rented some of the first season – they debunk different things: talking to the dead, alternative medicine, alien abduction, and so on. It’s like freakshows on parade, but it does not seem too condescending to me. Penn is talking about how we as people are fallible too, and it’s understandable how we fall for some of these hoaxes. Plus, I am totally charmed by Teller. Don’t ask me why.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Poem by Leon Rooke
Martha Stewart Living
A man at the Dominion was looking long and hard
at chicken breasts, first at economy trays
then at smaller portions, finally hefting the smaller
and saying to the woman nudging his rear, 'Do you suppose
these are free-range chickens?' The woman shouldered
him aside. She was in a hurry, she said, and in no mood
for asinine chit-chat. 'But no,' she said, scurrying away,
'I don't suppose those are free-range. I suppose those
are dead chickens.' At which point, or actually about thirty
seconds later, the man said to me, 'Some days I am happy
I never married.'
-Leon Rooke
A man at the Dominion was looking long and hard
at chicken breasts, first at economy trays
then at smaller portions, finally hefting the smaller
and saying to the woman nudging his rear, 'Do you suppose
these are free-range chickens?' The woman shouldered
him aside. She was in a hurry, she said, and in no mood
for asinine chit-chat. 'But no,' she said, scurrying away,
'I don't suppose those are free-range. I suppose those
are dead chickens.' At which point, or actually about thirty
seconds later, the man said to me, 'Some days I am happy
I never married.'
-Leon Rooke
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Ramble-rouser
I have never really liked this time of year. I come off the New Year’s high of feeling like the world is mine to conquer and settle into the midwinter blues. And I don’t mean like I am depressed and moping. My blues tent to be just that blue-tinted. I question things. I get restless. I get restless in the fall too – but I feel like more spritely about it – I take action and stir shit up (i.e. send an anonymous love letter to a stranger that works at a bookstore. Which I think may be one of the greatest romantic moves I have ever made.). But this late January – early February funk just makes me antsy. Historically, it’s never been a good time for me, and I will save the sob fest. That is not what I am here to do.
What am I here to do? And maybe there is my grandest question of them all. I am feeling all this creative energy pooling in me and its just latent and wants to rise up and pulse through me. And I want it to be bigger than me in a way. I want partners in creation crime. I just want to make something. Words, yarn, drawing, stitches, quilts, messy, paints, neat, whatever… its just sitting there wanting to be done. Maybe a geek girl zine, a comic book written in poetry, a video game that travels through time and fantasy lands, a podcast about writing and pop culture, make purses with little monsters embroidered on them, quilts with words stitched into them…. I am just so restless. I am not sure if I am ready for all that right now. Maybe this is where I need to pull my prominent P (those MBTI savvy, that was a shout out for you) and just brainstorm and get it all sketched out on paper… then worker bee my way through it when I am in a different space.
I feel like I am split in two. Artist and College Professional. I like them both. But if I had to pick one for a long term – it would be Artist working a shit part time job, with a substantial nest egg to be secure. College Professional would miss all the people, and she really does want to work at a college, helping students figure out who they might just be. But she always envies the person who goes off to do those artistic endeavors and fears she is not brave enough.
So, does any one have a job for me come June? I am just saying…
What am I here to do? And maybe there is my grandest question of them all. I am feeling all this creative energy pooling in me and its just latent and wants to rise up and pulse through me. And I want it to be bigger than me in a way. I want partners in creation crime. I just want to make something. Words, yarn, drawing, stitches, quilts, messy, paints, neat, whatever… its just sitting there wanting to be done. Maybe a geek girl zine, a comic book written in poetry, a video game that travels through time and fantasy lands, a podcast about writing and pop culture, make purses with little monsters embroidered on them, quilts with words stitched into them…. I am just so restless. I am not sure if I am ready for all that right now. Maybe this is where I need to pull my prominent P (those MBTI savvy, that was a shout out for you) and just brainstorm and get it all sketched out on paper… then worker bee my way through it when I am in a different space.
I feel like I am split in two. Artist and College Professional. I like them both. But if I had to pick one for a long term – it would be Artist working a shit part time job, with a substantial nest egg to be secure. College Professional would miss all the people, and she really does want to work at a college, helping students figure out who they might just be. But she always envies the person who goes off to do those artistic endeavors and fears she is not brave enough.
So, does any one have a job for me come June? I am just saying…
Friday, February 03, 2006
Stories that are better than how I really cut my hand
I cut my hand on a glass last night and got two stitches today. I am now roughed up a bit. But I was thinking, I need some better reasons for why I cut my hand other than I was doing dishes.
Ideas:
-The glass spoke to me and said, "Enough of this pansy-ass water! Fill me with whiskey!" and then it bit me.
-I had to smack a bitch. Through pane glass.
-Chuck Norris was teaching lessons on the Spike channel, and I forgot that Chuck's skin is tougher than steel and was once taken to graft a hole in navy tankers.
-There was a white rabbit through the looking glass. I swear.
-I saved a baby. And a puppy, and like 4 kittens. From a huge fire. And only got this one scratch.
-Things got a little too wild in the .... uh, yeah. Not gonna tell you.
Any other ideas?
Ideas:
-The glass spoke to me and said, "Enough of this pansy-ass water! Fill me with whiskey!" and then it bit me.
-I had to smack a bitch. Through pane glass.
-Chuck Norris was teaching lessons on the Spike channel, and I forgot that Chuck's skin is tougher than steel and was once taken to graft a hole in navy tankers.
-There was a white rabbit through the looking glass. I swear.
-I saved a baby. And a puppy, and like 4 kittens. From a huge fire. And only got this one scratch.
-Things got a little too wild in the .... uh, yeah. Not gonna tell you.
Any other ideas?
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