the wounded bookshop

So tonight I made my first venture into the world of open mic poetry. After much persuasion from my fellow writer and poet friend Chelsea, I agreed to attend the open mike poetry night at The Wounded Bookshop downtown and read some of my poetry. I LOVE The Wounded Bookshop - the atmosphere, the building - it's a used bookshop in an old, old building that used to be a machine shop - now it's filled with mismatched sofas, artwork, dones of aged wooden bookshelves with old books, coffee, tea, wine, creaking staircases, fabulous rugs . . .

I loved listening to other people's works and meeting so many interesting characters: the elderly woman who published a book of poetry years ago, who still writes . . . the young man who's traveled the United States and just recently arrived in Fredericksburg to start a non-profit environmentalist action group - he also used to teach to gang members , one of his favorite students was shot in the forehead . . . the 15-year-old girl with long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, black-rimmed glasses who declared that she normally writes fiction but what the heck, she gave poetry a try (incidentally she is an extremely talented writer across the board) . . . Chelsea my comrade English major and writer (with all of the OCD characteristics that I posses) - she's a great writer as well . . . the middle-aged man with curly blond-gray hair and glasses, who wrote a poem about Isaac Newtown (and said that if anybody wanted to know why he wrote about Isaac Newton, he would tell him "offline") . . . the young man with a pale yellow buttoned up shirt and black-rimmed glasses, who disliked the government and organized religion, who hestitated reading a poem he had written about sex . . .

I read three of my poems - first time ever reading them in public. It was amazing. I think I'm hooked.

hi & and my car

Hey everyone. I'm slammed with massive amounts of stuff, but I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm alive. Oh and my car is in the shop. Needs a new compressor. I wonder if all of these auto mechanics live in mansions. They can probably afford it if they get to see any of the money they charge us. But anyway, the auto place that my car is at - the guys there are really nice, I went to them on recommendation of a dear friend of mine. When I drove my car up the first thing the guy said was "That doesn't sound good." Very hopeful start, no? But would have to agree - my poor car sounded like it had a 50-year smoking habit. Emphezyma for cars. Hopefully I'll get to pick it up tomorrow. I miss my "land yacht." (Thank you Bryan for that lovely moniker - it has become near and dear to my heart).

oh boy

So last night I almost got broad-sided on the driver's side of my car by a van. Seriously, by God's grace and a few feet, as well as good brakes, I missed being in a serious accident. It was night time, I was driving in unfamiliar Springfield, frustrated because I couldn't find the church where my brother was singing, and I was lost. I decided to turn back around and head the other way down the the road, so I pulled off into a neighborhood to turn around. In order to get back on the road I had to turn left and cross 4 lanes of traffic, two going either direction. I inched out and misjudged the speed of the car heading towards me. About half-way across the first two lanes I realized "Oh shit I do NOT have enough time to get across the road." I had a brief second of mind-blowing panic but managed to slam on the brakes just in time for the car to swerve around me. I don't think I breathed for at least 10 seconds and then I started crying, I guess because I was scared - I realized what could have happened to me. Man. It was really frightening. I thanked God and my guardian angels profusely on my way home. And I will now be an old lady driver forever.