in my pjs, not out on the town

Because the times have been gloomy for me lately, I want to post a few good things. I gave my first real "lecture" to 80 or so students today (it's supposed to be around 120, but absences abound!). And it was on Lemony Snicket's The Bad Beginning which was a super fun text to teach. Then, on my way home, I actually caught a glimpse of sun after days and days of wintry mix. Earlier in the day I distilled the lessons of composition into a few easy steps to help dear education majors who don't have a clue about crafting a thesis (it distresses me how frequently I encounter young female students with an inability to make an argument). And I was reminded how much I appreciate those crazy capitalist subverting kids who man the IMU Starbucks when my money was waved away - not for the first time. Now I'm working my way through Michael Denning's interesting, if at times, overly didactic Culture in the Age of Three Worlds - the first unit gives a really nice synopsis of the problematic of culture, cultural productions and cultural studies post-collapse of the 1st, 2nd, 3rd world schematic - aka the era of globalization theory. And soon I will be trying to craft some sort of abstract that argues something interesting about Nikki Giovanni's poetry. Speaking of which, reading Black Feeling, Black Talk, Black Judgment made me realize how much of my early understanding of "contemporary" or "free verse" poetry, for better or worse, was shaped by pulling her stuff off my mom's shelf. I want to link to one of her poems but I'm not thrilled with what's available online. Here's one, nonetheless: Nikki-Rosa.

february is a long short month

I'm so tired of the way I have to walk in this weather, feet lifted and planted squarely one after another in an awkward stomping shuffle. It makes me feel as though I'm pretending to be a monster, all ungainly limbs. The black ice is everywhere, and now slipperiness comes in two disguises: a thin snow whirls about in the wind and dusts the roads and paths and covers the black ice with its own deceptive slickness. I can't count how many headers I almost took.

I owe y'all posts about the tattoo and the sex workers' art show: coming soon, I promise. But for now, two snippets of conversations overheard, literally, in passing = two reminders that I live in a town full, so very full, of undergraduates:

Conversation 1
Two young men are walking towards me in Ballantine. They look like a cross between emo kids and frat boys - it's actually not that uncommon of a type in this town, at least, if not elsewhere. Boy one, in the tight skinny jeans and black framed glasses, is schooling boy two, the lumbering hulkster of the two. "Here's what you do: you get a game of spin the bottle going, with a bunch of people. That way you have to -watch- each other kiss other people..." Dating for dummies? Just what is the relationship dilemma for which this is the perfect solution?

Conversation 2
Two young ladies are walking towards me as I head into the gym. I can't describe them any more than to say, they look like the standard blonde undergrads in workout gear, those ubiquitous elastic headband thingies securing their hair. As they pass, girl 1 says to girl 2, "ew, what's baked ham?" Girl 2 replies, "you know, just regular ham, only baked." Back to girl 1: "what does 'baked' mean?" I'm seriously hoping she was only confused by the context.

snow blankets the heart

The mating pair of cardinals has come back to my window, which seems like it should signify spring, but I'm not so sure. Even with the sun, it's still hardcore winter as far as I'm concerned. Last night we made sweet potato pancakes and pea soup with mint and salad with fennel, or finnochi as you say if you're in my family, and everything was perfect and warm for winter. I wish I had pictures. I've been wintering in, I suppose, lately, huddling under layers of clothing and blankets, reading and writing. I'm going to take a walk in the cemetery soon. There's too much of this town to haunt before I go away.