So, a whole bunch of religious pilgrims walk into a bar...

I've been trying to convince myself to start my reading assignment and get ahead of the game, but I'm tired and unfocused, so I opted for coffee and writing out a blog entry on paper (which was nearly illegible and needed to be typed out).
I did read a couple dozen lines of The General Prologue in Modern English, and skimmed the Middle English side of the page, and was thus reminded of a night when a man recited about half of The General Prologue of the Canterbury Tales in Middle English to me...at a bar.
I had originally been talking to a girl about "Guernica" by Picasso (which the print on my black and white lace skirt was a shrunken down version of the work--yes, I have some odd clothing...that I made for myself). Somehow the talk shifted to English Literature, and then works in Old English and Middle English. I actually recited the first few lines of Chaucer to show off to the girl a little, and then this guy showed up, and it was on apparently. This was a contest that I was more than okay with losing.
The guy proceeded to spout off a lot of Middle English, and as he kept going the speed, volume and the spitting involved with his recitation increased. He was absolutely entranced. His face was a blissful nerdgasm-- really, how many times can you use a Chaucer recitation in an attempt to impress the ladies?
Trying to stop him from reaching the climax of his reading was like trying to stop a speeding train by throwing individual bricks at it. I think he made it about halfway through the prologue portion. At the height of enchantment he wasn't even picking up on the subtle social ques that indicated that we were bored with this game. We were looking at our drinks and ignoring him as though some he were some madman that had accosted us and just started sputtering oddly accented English without any provocation.

And this is why I cannot read this part of The Canterbury Tales at present. My mind's eye only sees the constant blabbing of a nerdy boy; mouth flapping like a fish, and eyes glazed in joy at the prospect that Middle English was about to get him laid (I don't think it worked any magic for him, though, but who knows). So that night I was trapped on a smoking patio with the nerdiest train wreck that I have ever entertained at a bar. Let's get back to talking about the mysteries of penis, or practicing hair-pulling.

A bar is no place for Middle English.

Perhaps a place where they sell turkey legs and mead would be more appropriate.

Upon re-reading my blog today I found a mistake in a previous post. I apparently had a brain spasm and listed Richard Wright as writing one book, when it should have listed James Wright. I just switched the names about when I looked up at my bookcase and saw "Black Boy" by Richard Wright and my brain decided that it was close enough. I corrected it though. Must remain ever vigilant...

Face of the Earth....kind of fell off it

It's Spring Break and I'm... cleaning!
I have to find my desk again. There was a book pile-up, and a costume explosion.

I'm also reading.
"Vice: New and Selected Poems" Ai
"Invisible Monsters" Chuck Palahniuk
"Asylum" Quan Barry
"Last Words" Antler
"To a Blossoming Pear Tree" James Wright
New Ohio Review Spring 2011
Ninth Letter Vol. 7 No. 2

I finished "Invisible Monsters" and loved it. I'm mostly skimming the rest.


And costume planning.
My friend Miranda is directing The Ash Girl for Athenian Berean Community Players out of Nelsonville, Ohio this November. I'm one part of a well...mostly 2-person costume department. There will be others helping with the process along the way. It's a rather elaborate project. Our inspiration: Steampunk, Gothic, Horror movie make up, Victorian and Japanese street fashion.
A little inspiration:


And being rejected...by a magazine.
My creative non-fiction essay was rejected from a women's literature and arts magazine which I pretty much thought would happen because I haven't figured out how to write with my vagina yet. I've had two kids give me a break.
My friend did make it into that magazine...she owns a well-trained venus flytrap...perfect for writing with the lady parts.
Oddly enough her accepted poem was born of a joke that I made about "I'm a strong independent woman...so I'm going to write about men."
I'm editing OU-L's Station magazine Spring Quarter and had thought about sending the essay there because it is generally well-liked by most people, but now it's a battle. I feel that I need to send it somewhere else to get it past another set of editors and readers that are not my peers. So, now I'm deciding on where it will go.


see more Memebase and check out our Courage Wolf lols!

And being accepted by another magazine...
One or two of my poems will be in Silhouette Magazine, which is a literary magazine published by Shawnee State. I swear I've only spelled "silhouette" correctly on the first try maybe three times in my life, but something I wrote will be in that magazine. "Lectio Divina" or "Drafts" or both...I don't know right now.

Expect me to...
Maybe post a little more on here for a while, but then I'll be slacking off on the blog again. I have three Literature classes and a Research class that start with the new quarter on Monday, then editing and costuming continues.