Chimera Song Mosaic
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Quietly, after much away time, I re-begin blogging. I do have a few NYs resolutions in mind, chiefly: to have each post contain some reference to poetry; to update my links at right and re-familiarize myself with the new blogs I have been missing; to avoid whining; to refrain from complaining; to fix this dread spacing problem; to revitalize blog in question; to link more; to blog frequently; to not be motivated by jealousy exclusively.

Only the first may need some explanation: I have been reading these linked blogs a bit, and I saw some complaining about "nominal" poetry blogs not having much to do with poetic discussion but rather leaning heavily toward the online journal or diary. I say to this, "Who cares?" I like so many blogs which although some maybe not primarily concerned with the "discussion" are, in fact, written by poets and taking various forms which defy labels (the near-visual observations of Katie Degentesh; the lucid ruminations of Stephanie Young; the happy informations of Chris Murray; the rich permutations of Josh Corey; the percolations of Catherine Meng; the illuminated FYIs of Jonathan Mayhew; the ephemeral bytes of Jordan Davis; & so on). Why place them in catagories? Whatever their blogging impulses may be, I enjoy them rather than question their origins. My first impulse is to argue this point. My second is to comply. But let it be known that I first logged my complaint. So now let me attempt to comply.

But it's true that I have been thinking that same thing (about my blog). True, first of all, it needs recent content, but also true that I might have more to say about poetry, however trite. My first trivial bit:

Every time I see someone write about Harryette Mullen's S*PeRm**K*T, I read "SpermKit." I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. I keep forgetting that I have already figured out that it's really saying "SuperMarket." Now it's time to read it. Although I must say the title "SpermKit" really turns me off. (I'm not being a prude; it really sounds like rape kit, and I have watched too many CSIs.) I really liked Muse & Drudge. But that title turns me on. I don't think this will be a Giorgio/Gio thing.

That's all I have to say about poetry today.

And you would maybe think that today, January 18, at 3:24 a.m., is a thoroughly meaningless time to restart my postings, but you would be wrong. About a day ago, Martin Luther King, Jr.'s birthday was observed. The day before that was the postmark deadline of submitting your request to vote in absentia (for Mexicans living out-of-country). I know I should have mentioned this before, when you could actually do something about it if you are in this situation (I mailed my application on the 12th), but take heart: the application is due in hand by February 15, 2006, so if you can deliver it in person to the IFE (I went to the one in Reynosa before Christmas), I think you still have a chance. All you need is copies of your Credencial para Votar and a bill from where you live in the United States. For more information, go to the Instituto Federal Electoral website.

Why this is significant: this is the first time in history that Mexican ex-pats will be permitted to vote in absentia. Viva la Democracia Mexicana!

Funny story: how I got my Credencial at the IFE in Reynosa. I'll tell it later. My parents keep messing with me, saying, "Are you going to vote for Salma Hayek?"

I also got my Mexican passport! Finally, finally, finally. The Mexican Consulate in Houston is like a great big DMV. There were all these people getting their Matricula Consulars, and some were getting their passport, like me. A few Canadian types were getting visas for some reason. We were there all day long one day and part of the next (because we thought we forgot something important, but it turned out we had it anyway). The only person who questioned my Mexicaness was a security guard, but I bet it's because I dyed my hair blonde. Get this: now that my hair is blonde, people treat me differently (worse, not better), and some people actually think I have blue eyes, so strong is the association. I have never been mistaken for having blue eyes in my life. My eyes are green, and they aren't even very light green.

Going guera (how do I spell this without an umlaut?) was a fun experience, I guess. But it is to be short lived. I am going to dye my hair purple, then blue. Hopefully I will get back to brown before my birthday.

I should also say that I am going to AWP! Well, duh; it's in Austin. But the good news is that Marisa's panel (that I am also on) was accepted, so LOOK OUT! Marisa has put together a fine panel of RGV poets and writers to read from their stuff, and it's called, We Bring You the Border: Writers of the Rio Grande Valley. It's on Saturday, March 11, from 1:30-2:45 p.m. Say you will!

The freedom and potential mania of being unemployed is breathtakingly seductive. Like I might have one class to teach online this semester, and even then I'd only have 15 students. Imagine that! 15 students to pander to and spoil. 15 down from 125. No money, just freedom. I'm going to be right-clicking all over the place. Look the heck out.

Powered by Blogger