It's 70 Degrees and Sunny! Yet, I'm a Mess
Finally. The stupid local weather people on TV have been teasing us with sunny weather for nearly two weeks and have been wrong EVERY. DAMN. DAY. But, at last, the sun is peeking out and it's warm enough that I'm wearing a skort and sandles. Yes, I said a skort. Don't mess with my skort, I love it.
I'm relieved, because I'm feeling a bit defeated. Last week it really looked like our buddy Fred had turned the corner; he found a room, he was scheduled to start a new landscaping job--things were looking great. We'd bought him a cheap cell phone (you know, one of those disposable ones) to help him find work and it, well, worked.
But then he sold the fucking phone for crack.
I'm no longer surprised, but man I was angry. Not so much at him (OK, a little at him. NO, a lot)--he has a cunning, baffling and powerful disease--but at myself for not respecting the boundaries I'd set after we got back from our trip and allowing myself to get sucked in again.
The last time I mentioned him someone posted an anonymous comment saying just "STOP ENABLING," and boy, were they right. I now have. I no longer want to have anything to do with him. Which sucks, because he was just going to begin paying us back by landscaping our yard. Heh.
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You may have noticed over to the right there that instead of a cute picture of Tori there is what looks like a new ad. It is, sort of--it's an ad for ME. I made it myself in photoshop (I'm very proud) and it's to promote a couple of things, but allow me to explain.
First off, some of you may not know that Charlie and I had quite the reputation here in Philadelphia as poets. Yeah, really. For years and years we hosted poetry readings around town and read ourselves anywhere we could find a stage. We were crazy, drunken poets, and we were the SHIT. Ask anyone.
Well, after we got sober, that calmed down quite a bit. But Charlie still plugged away at it (he's been published in over 100 poetry journals and received a Pennsylvania Council of the Arts grant), and I did too, until I found blogging. You can read some of my poems here and here is a google search that gives you some idea of the scope of Charlie's success.
But about, oh, crap--six? seven? years ago we finally stopped hosting readings and as a result have faded from the scene quite a bit. These days, when I get asked to read I just usually end up reading some of my funnier blog entries, which I actually enjoy quite a bit. Charlie still slays the audience with his poems even though he writes a lot fewer of those now.
But all this background info is just to explain that we, Charlie and I, were asked to read by the lovely editor of Painted Bride Quarterly, which is very exciting because for once people might actually show up (the last couple of readings we've given, about six people have come, half of whom we're related to). If you live in the area and would like to be some of those people, we'd love to have you.
Additionally, that same lovely lady also asked me to speak on a panel at Drexel University about this, this thing I'm doing right now: BLOGGING. I'm be speaking with an old pal, the great poet and writer CA Conrad and the writer of blog that reviews books (that I sadly can't find; when I get the link I'll come back and update). Anyone, that is also open to the public and lord knows I'd love to see some friendly faces up there because HELLO MOMMY BLOGGER BEING FED TO WOLVES. Ahem.
So. There you go. Please, please come. I'm begging you. Please.
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Lastly, I'm wondering if anyone reading this is planning to go to the BlogHer convention in San Francisco in July. I really want to go. I need to go, in fact, if making this blog become a launching point to a bigger writing career is really something I want (and it is). I have no idea how I'll swing it--financially, particularly. Already, the hotel is full, so I'll have to find a different one to stay in (unless someone needs a roommate? :D ). But I want to make it happen. I'm doing research on the money dance. There must be one, cause Oprah seems to know it. Right?
