O Canada

And it's not so much that you've
noticed how you speak.
at times, you hear an a
come out of your mouth,
and it's high and flat, and
makes you miss
Manitoba.

But now, your students notice
it and ask
where did you come from?
when you tell them,
and the reasons:
school, 4th floor of Cook Hall,
drinking age, hockey
they say,
I thought so.
and you like this duality.
2 countries you can call home
and that way,
you'll never be quite alone.
all that land and you have
2 broad feet.

You drive.
each day, 2 hours
roundtrip.
so you call people,
people who have been on
your mind since New Year's
and you laugh and pretty
soon, you can't remember

If you passed
Beresford.
you never can remember if you've
slid under the overpass.
it is always a surprise to you when
you pass or do not pass
Beresford.

The radio is on and
loud constantly.
You have found a
station that plays
old Country, and
you know that this
is like quilts and farm dogs
and cricks.
you smile the whole stretch
of 1-90
when you hear,
Don't make me come over there
and love you.
because you will.
right now.

you took pictures,
curled up in the C
of big, red Canada.
and when you walked into
the bar, all your friends
said,
My God, do you have to look so
American?

And you say,
Probably.

It's Like You've Known Me My Entire Life

Stole this from Madame's blog. Couldn't resist!

In the year 2007 I resolve to: Become an online stalker. Get your resolution here.

This is perfect! Resolutions were never really my bag anyways, but this is one I can totally keep, since I'm completely an internet stalker already.

That's right. I went there.

There is Such Thing as a Free Lunch

Sittin' at the Coffee Shop Gallery right now. Marcia is across from me, fighting with InSite. I mention her because I guess, if you have a blog, you have to mention every single person you spent time with that day. And Annie, thanks for the Diet Coke you gave me earlier today. It really hit the spot. I hope your office hours are going well. I'll have to try having them at home, in my pajamas, too, someday. And thank you, mailman, for bringing me a W2 today. And Bridge, thank you for getting un-mad at me before you left for the day. I gave you plenty of reasons to stay mad at me, but you were the better person.

As usual.

I should be preparing a lesson plan right now, but I like to meander. And, I'm a little obsessed with my blog.

Today is my lucky day. One of the cute coffee shop guys brought over our order, and set down a sandwich in front of me. I didn't order any sandwich but he was like, "Oh. Well, then. Congratulations."

Sweet. I'll just eat 89 meals today. Basically, if I could eat 24 hours a day, that would rock my world.

This sandwich is a spicy mother. My face is flushed and I'm sucking down my iced tea. It's gettin Hot in Herre. Some people say "ice tea," but I just don't think that's right.

I love all my friends. I say we all pool our money, buy a gigantic house, build a huge deck off of it, and live together. It would be the mos' def place in town. Who's in?

I'm a tad hungover today--mostly tired, and my head feels a little, as my friend Matty says, "stingy." When I feel this way, I am in the mood to fight. I kinda hope creepster camera dude comes in--I've 2 tickets to the gun show for him. ("I was just getting my workout in for the day. I don't know if you heard me counting, I did over a thousand.")

(I think there's a group of lesbians a few tables over from us, and they have some kids with them! Totally awesome! Or, I suppose, they could just be typical midwest moms with dyke-y haircuts. Seriously, if I didn't know my mom and all my aunts, I would probably think they were lesbians simply by their haircuts.)

My mouth has finally cooled off.

Oy, I've got to stop writing. Enough! I know, I know, Katy. Even I find myself tiresome.

Happy Friday, bizzos!

fast car

The cars that fleet has given me to drive are Decidedly Unsexy.

A Malibu, a Taurus, an Impala. Ugh. All with wood trim in the interior and weirdo, checked patterns on the seats. Despite the urgings by rappers of what one can do to a lady in the "back of my Impala," I would never take a woman to the backseat of an Impala.

A 1972 Ford Galaxie 500? Now, that's another story.

It is pretty Sexy not to have to pay for your own gasoline, though.

I haven't been sleeping well lately--looping dreams that never go where I want them to. In my dreams, I stutter and blush just as much as I do in real life. My fortune cookie told me tonight, "You will have a magnetic personality." I wonder, "when?"

I wake up nearly an hour before the alarm. I've never been one to whom sleep comes easy. And this house. All sorts of groans and movement from the basement. House noises are new to me--I've never lived in a real house before. Just trailers and apartments. The noise isn't unsettling to me; I just wake up to them, and have to think for a minute, Oh yes. I live here now. These are the sounds real walls and a concrete basement make. I have to remind myself, this is a good thing.

My nerves, I guess. This is my first full week teaching my 3 hour classes. They went well yesterday and today. Today, especially, I enjoyed my students and their wilingness to open up to me and the class. I told my students that I am the person who goes to WaldenBooks at midnight to get her copy of the 6th Harry Potter book, and they told me that they've won 2nd-grade spelling bees, love it when their young daughters read books to them, and play guitar and write music.

Cool people. I am excited to read their work this semester.

I am writing now like I dream--never going where I want to.

I better just stick to grading papers tonight.

Small Town, Saturday Night

I am not sure the amount of fun I had on Saturday is legal. It's totally immoral, that's for sure.

On Saturday night, after some so-so soup at a fundraiser for the Vermillion Area Arts Council, me and about 75 of my closest friends headed to The Eagles to dance, dance, dance all night, night, night.

First, I love the Eagles Club. These are so my people--old drunks, smoking ladies with peroxide hair, beer served in plastic cups. The Eagles Club always makes me ache for home.

Anywho, Poison Stream! was playing! Yeah, yeah. These English profs seriously rock. It is so fun to watch them and dance to them and break out some air guitar and scream along to The Cure lyrics. The floor was filled with gorgeous chicks shakin' and twirling and rockin' out. Loved it. Bridge was an exceptionally Good Sport for someone who doesn't really like to dance Every. Single. Song. (Like I do.)

I wore a sweater and muk-luks.

Was I hot?
Yes.
But ...
I was Hot.

I love this goddamn town.

This morning, we decided to be Good Catholics and hit up Mass. And, you know how we Catholics do: up/down, kneel/stand, rinse/repeat. This was not good news for my aching knees and sore feet. And, for some reason, my right shoulder hurts like a mother. Eh, what are you gonna do?

Now, though, the driveway is shoveled (and if you've talked to me at all in the past 112 hours, you have probably heard about the infamous snowblower, who did NOT show up today and ruin my shoveling plans), my application for an instructor position in Sioux Falls is complete, and my classes are ready to go for the week.

Tonight, the L Word at my friend Laura's house. I really do not think I could ask for anything more.

Rock on, baby.

Reasons I Love My Life

1. The Coffee Shop Gallery and all the hot, funny ladies who sat with me today.

2. The second day of the "American Idol" season premiere where I get to watch 2 solid hours of bug-eyed people butchering Stevie Wonder and The Righteous Brothers.

3. The KELO Land 10:00 news teaser: "Is there anything Japanese cell phones can't do? Find out at 10!" Um, can you have sex with a Japanese cell phone? Will a Japanese cell phone cook you a grilled cheese sandwich? Do laundry?

4. Two years ago today, this cute little Catholic girl asked me over for dinner. Tonight, I had spring rolls, rice, and cashew chicken presented to me on plates she bought at a student art show. We are almost on the second bottle of wine. She likes me drunk on wine. I can't imagine why.

Savvy

My friends Vani and Matt were over a few nights ago, and since they both work in the Center for Teaching and Learning on USD's campus, I drilled them for info on how to do "basic html."

Now, I can do cool things on a Mac like bold and even italics. Huh? Yeah. And, ok, I know that there are the shortcut thingies, but stuff's different on a Mac. It's hard, man. (Note, again, the seamless use of italics.)

Also, I can post pictures now! Like this one:



This is me and my best friend. Tucker is 7 and my little cousin and is getting his tonsils out this week! Apparently, the kid's got huge tonsils--that's my boy. Over the holidays, Tuck swiped my brother's camera and took this picture of us, as well as many pictures of covers of various "National Enquirers" my Grandma subscribes to. I really don't see the family resemblance--do you? Um, apparently, I had a child when I was 18 and gave him to my aunt to raise. Thank God, because he is hell on wheels--literally. When he was five, all he sang was AC/DC's "Highway to Hell," but Tuck really couldn't say his l's very well. Just sing it in your head without the l's. You'll see.

I'm having a hard time containing all my savviness.

Just my Imagination ...

... runnin' away with me.

Snow this morning. Unexpected (I don't so much watch the news), but nice. I tried shoveling for a few minutes, but gave up soon after I realized the strips of driveway I scraped clean were dusted again with new snow every time I turned my back.

Sneaky snow.

I've been curled with a down throw all afternoon, watching "Arrested Development" and now, "The Simpsons." I can't decide between the couch, the carpet, the couch. One disturbing realization: Homer Simpson and I share many of the same qualities.

I took a shower in the dark today and it made everything more.

I like the snow. Very much I like it. The squirrels running around like they don't know what the hell is happening, seeing sudden bursts of breath from dogwalkers passing my window, the fogged, purpled sky. My brother, sister, and I used to jump out of the barn into big piles of snowdrift--we'd get a running start and then land so hard we'd get stuck, up to our chests, in snow. My brother would usually wiggle out first and then come save Randy and me. Over and over, all day, this pounding over warped floorboards and then for two seconds, flying. On good snow days, we'd call the neighbors and meet them at Suicide Hill (really, we had a suicide hill) for sledding. My Dad would pump up a huge, old inner tube and we'd all climb in and slide down this hill at a gazillion miles an hour and crash at the bottom, covered in snow and cockleburrs. Pure fun.

Tomorrow may be a good day for sledding. Where do people sled in Vermillion? Down by the bluff? There's no water tower hills here--what do you do?

I start teaching on Tuesday. I've never been on the campus, have no idea where my office will be, don't know how to get a fleet vehicle, am not sure if my syllabi have been copied, can't pronounce some of the names on my class rosters, have no idea how to fill three, consecutive class hours, haven't received my desk copy for my 201 class yet, and Monday is a holiday.

In other words, I am much more prepared for this semester than I was for the Fall.

Happy New Year! (Again!)

Ooh, Ah, Just a Little Bit ...

I'm a little gangsta.

You probably can't tell by looking at me. I am clearly from Eastern-European peasant stock and my North Dakotan accent is pretty thick at times. Also, my fave TV show is "The Golden Girls" and I really like flavored waters. I do not think this makes me appear very street.

Still, I am pretty hardcore. My friend Al Fish told me recently I looked like a "street-tough Belinda Carlisle" and I'm not sure if that's a compliment, but I'll take what I can get. I've had "Circle in the Sand" in my head ever since (and round and round).

Back to me being gangsta. Last night, at karaoke, my badass self emerged and I found myself on the stage flexin' my flow to the sounds of "Nasty Girl" by Nitty. I had originally written down "The Gambler" to sing, but Bridge told me that she was worried people didn't know how gangsta I actually was, and therefore, I should rock the mic. I have to admit--I nailed it. Well, as much a farm kid could nail a song as nuanced and political as "Nasty Girl."

Here are a few choice rhymes from my fave song:

"Must be coffee by the way you shakin' that percolater."

"Last time we sexed, I had her crawlin' like a alligator."

"You talkin' dirty, wanna serve me in the elevator."

"Honey, I gotta lotta money. Would you be my Nasty Girl, and let me do that dirty dance with you."

Note the subtle rhyme scheme, the bold word choice, the "elegantly rendered" (shout out to FAR) description of the dance of love between a woman and a man. Nitty, you speak to my soul.

So, would you? Would you be my Nasty Girl?

Really, have you gotten a better offer?

You Don't Have To Be a Star (Baby) To Be in My Show

I just finished this really deep examination of some feelings that have tripped me up all day, and I was going to post it, but you know what? I just thought, fuck it. I'm OK, you're OK.

God bless the child that got his own, right?

I had an awesome day today. I got to hang out at the coffee shop (and 90% of the reason I go there is to visit with the other regulars, but really 99% of the reason I go there is to just get that coffee shop smell infused into my hair and hooded sweatshirt). I also walked around town for awhile, thinking about this great girl I have who knows all my tricks--namely, angling the alarm so she doesn't see how late it is when I slip in next to her, skin cold.

Like she doesn't know, right?

Then Bridge, Katie and I played about 417 rounds of "Catchphrase" with their folks. I haven't laughed this hard in a long time--well, since the last time I played it with my G-ma and Great Aunt Bernie.

Now it's late and I have hit the jackpot. Time Life Music is promoting the new, "digitally remastered, cinema quality DVD" hits from "The Midnight Special." I am currently rocking out to "Let's Stay Together," "Surrender," "Roll with the Changes" and "You're No Good." Although I will not buy this collection (probably), I will sit here and watch this infomercial for hours.

I'm now going to stick around for more legendary performances, where maybe Bill Withers will tell me that sometimes in our lives, we all need friends. And he will let me lean on him when I am not strong. And Debbie Harry one way or another, she's gonna git me, she's gonna git me git me git me git me. And no, Elton, I don't mind.

Yahtzee, baby.

Men in Trees

Men in cherry pickers were sawing off overhanging branches all up and down my street today. There is now wood carnage all over north Prentis, but that's OK, I guess.

The house two down from us has been inexplicably toilet-papered very recently. And I mean big-time. The culprits must have used a few packs of Charmin double rolls. It's funny to me, but probably not to the people who live there.

My Tibetan prayer flags (!) came yesterday. I strung them up ASAP. We are the only house on our block with Tibetan prayer flags--can you believe it? In fact, we may be the only house in all of Vermtown with these, but that also may be an unfair generalization.

My friend E. is coming to stay for the night and she just called me to report that she has in her possession Clamato juice and Kahlua. I've got the Miller Lite and mixing straws. I love my life.

I'm not sure about Suave's "Radiant Brunette" line of hair care.

I dusted and swept and scrubbed the whole house today! It looks shiny, happy.

My check from the SD Arts Council came in the mail today. I'm going to the bank! (shout out to Royce). This marks my first paying gig as a writer for the poetry reading I gave in November in town. I think I will start telling my friends that I don't appear anywhere anymore for free. I may get lonely.

Today was garbage day in my part of town. I always feel renewed after the men come and pick up all my extra baggage. Like I get to start over every Thursday morning.

I am up for a rousing game of "Catchphrase" tonight.

Anyone?