Back again

I haven't been blogging since March. Not because I didn't want to...there were times when it would have been the best option for channeling fustration or other miscellaneous feelings that creep up when one is least expecting it. But no. When blogger switched to Google, I couldn't figure out what I did with my username and password. I tried again tonight and EUREKA...bam...The right combination.

I took my writing into the real world this summer, writing news copy for a local radio station. I interviewed the governor, some state reps., a senator and a whole bunch of other news makers. I got yelled at by the mayor's press secretary for being too inquisitive and I joined a knitting circle on the local transit unit for a feature I worked on. I wrote about my city's riots in the 60s for a comemorative special, I talked to people who lost everything they had, even loved ones in the fray. I produced a few segments of the local morning public affairs show. I was able to showcase some of the issues I care about. I became hardened. Acctually not, the emotional days always took their toll, but I loved being there. I loved learning how to conduct a good interview, how to record voices with different ambient sound, to edit my tape, dump sound into a computer, run it through the equalizer, adjust my levels....

This summer I only took one graduate class. We learned how to conduct program evaluations. Mostly, it was B.S. but I think that may have been my fault, because I could have given it my all, but I only did what I had to do to get an A. My heart was elsewhere...

The research grant that I started last year was another worry. I poked at it this summer...but after a full day of news reporting, this project I admit, was conducted half-assed.

As my grandmother once told me:
If you do everything, you do it all badly.

One thing I did not do was date. There were a few close calls...but, well, maybe I live in an Ivory Tower and am unaware of my surroundings. Who knows. I have nothing more to say on the matter.

And now for some fiction:

The rain spattered metalically against the scallopped awnings outside of the coffee shop. The sound forced people inside to shout personal details about themselves a bit too loudly, as I sipped the least expensive beverage on the menu.

There would be no fall this year. The rains would rip the leaves from the trees while they were still green, and the rains would freeze on a premature night in early September. The leaves would paste the ground with a thick brown layer of organic rot which would be Mother Nature's sorry excuse of an autumn. The small crowd of humanity gathered in the coffee shop together but alone. They came to have private conversations in public because home feels too along. So they sit...some connected to WiFi with tap tap tap of fingers, some with strands of wire extending from the ears. A couple sits near the door. The are aguing and don't notice the rain that sweeps accross their table when someone enters.

Two tables sit near the side windows facing the parking lot where this group has left their cars...Big hunks of metal twarted out into the rain so that the beverages could be drunken in the company of others. Strangers.

"...and then the contractor ripped us off...because he installed these hideous gray tiling...and then never came back..."

"...and mom said, how could you?! Your father's dying..."

"...and I don't know why I am still with him anyway...all he wants is to do it...and we never go out..."

"...um, I want a tall-hot-chocolate-no-whipped-cream-extra-hot..."

"...hate that you have to pay for every stupid song, it's such a ripoff..."

pitterpatterpitterpatterpitterpatterpitterpatter

ta ta tap tap tap tappa tap

I sit in an easy chair. I am thinking about trying not to think about things I don't realy want to think about. I try distracting myself. I am anxious that the other people think I am wierd because I slurp at my steaming cup...and because I have already spilled some of the pale yellow tea down my jacket. Distraction. Distraction. Fatique. I try to picture myself casually picking up the huge squre chair I am sitting on, lifting it over my head and fitting it through the door. Would anyone notice? would anyone say anything? I smile to myself.

Hi.

What?

Hi

I look up and there is a guy standing in front of me. He's wearing jeans that are baggy in a non-fashionable way and his hair is wet and in his eyes.

Is anyone sitting here?, he inquires.

I want to say yes, but I am too lethargic to lie.

You are welcome to it.

Thanks.

He smiles. He has good teeth. He puts his wet bag down on the seat. He pivots. His shoes emit a squeeky salutation. He walks to the counter. I feel apprehensive, I consider leaving. My solitude is broken. I hear him order a concoction I do not prefer. For some reason this annoys me. Well, whatever, I don't have to talk to him.

Thanks for watching my seat...You know, it would suck to get here, and not be able to
sit in a squishy chair.

I nod. I felt the same way acctually, but whatever. He takes his bag off the chair. The water runs off as rivulets onto the scotchguard surface, he grimaces. I watch his designer coffee tilt...as...he...wipes off the chair...


(Ok goodnight all, going to bed, too tired:)