Thursday, September 4, 2008

The "you" that I remember is a lamp, within a body, within an ocean that never collects enough water

The title of this blog is the last line of a poem I wrote within a batch of poems which I'm trying desperately to turn into a chapbook for someone special.

I've been registering for class up here at SLC and I'm delightfully shocked at how pleasant their whole administration is. Even though I loved Hunter, I'd always dreaded anything bureaucratic, but everyone here is pleasant and goes out of their way to help me. I can't say the same for the DMV. They rejected me on my 3rd road test because I wasn't wearing the right shoes and I had something written out in pen instead of typed. Who knew that penmanship and footwear were such an important part of driving?

To celebrate my final week of the summer I went to Lake George with my sister and a bunch of girlfriends. View my video travelogue here: (the videos marked 'Liz and Jennifer')

The trip was great, it included horse back riding, wake-boarding, miniature golf, hitchhiking trolleys, salt water taffy, commandeering a strangers lawn, the super 8 motel, boat tours and a haunted house. As I waited in line for the haunted house I mocked it endlessly, but once I got inside I ended up screaming like a fool at any and everything. At the end of the horribly spooky tour they chased us out with a chain saw and I screamed bloody murder and knocked aside the young girl accompanied by her parents in order to get out. It wasn't one of my finer moments in life.

Ever since I've moved here I've been sleeping kind of bad. I think there may be a pea under my bed, like in the fairytale, but I'm not sure.