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Aug. 19th, 2009 | 04:40 pm
mood: optimisticoptimistic

I guess I haven't updated in the last 18 weeks.  This is becoming suspiciously like every other journal I have ever attempted in my life.

I'm in St. Louis.  I'm with my beloved and our dog.  It's not as weird as I thought it would be, which is weird.  Ironic.  I'm looking for a job, which can mean any number of things, but in my case means "I'll take anything that is legal . . . for now."  So far I've applied to (in no order) Panera (a.k.a. St. Louis Bread Co.), two Targets, a cafe, a bar & grill, a pizzeria, Starbucks, a natural food store, Borders, and a musical instrument store.  Most of those told me they aren't hiring, but Panera and the Natural Way both are, at least.  A few places wouldn't even give me an application ("We're overstaffed," "We can't afford (hiring)," and "We don't have any applications").  Both Jo and I are extremely optimistic, but I came home (home!?) yesterday a bit depressed from collecting the applications.  I also have one to turn in to the city of Webster Groves, which is the town we're actually living in.

The other night I wrote a poem on some notepad.  Just finished typing it up.  It is certainly not complete.  Apparently, it's decided to be a bit epic (for me), as I'm now starting a fourth section.  The working title is "A Few Episodes of Luis, Who Is a Matchstick."  I think I like it, but I always like what I'm working on.  I recently started going through my old poetry and revamping some.  I've reached a point where I'm really unsure of my direction as a poet.  I don't mean whether I want to be or not; that's not a choice.  I mean how my work is developing.  Changing.  Or how it's not.  Or how my old poetry, especially the ones that are dear to me, are somewhat sophomoric.  Maybe that's a bit harsh, but the point is that there's plenty of room for growth.  Of course, I think there's always room for growth, no matter who you are or what you do or how good you are at it.  You see my dilemma.  But at least I'm writing.  I've written 9 poems since my last poetry workshop (which was about a year and a half ago).  I'm pretty happy with most of them, so perhaps something is going right.  And that's not counting the Prompt Book, which was something Joanna made for me for Christmas.  I didn't type those up since they're more experimental, but they have influenced me to expand my horizons.  I've since written a poem based on a Big Mac box, a poem about Swiper the Fox from Dora the Explorer, and a poem about our friend Elliott.  They all certainly owe their creation in part to Joanna's prompting.

Anyway, that's a lot (for me).  Maybe I'll start writing about poetry more often, as I seem to like to write about that.  Speaking of writing, I've finally started knuckling down on my post-grad reading.  I read Bonsai, a remarkably obscure Chilean novella that we were supposed to read for Dan's novella class.  Also I read a collection of short-stories by Tobias Wolff (In the Garden of the North American Martyrs), which was excellent.  I've started reading several others, but I'm trying to focus on one book at a time.  I feel really lame as a reader.  Oh well.  The future looks bright for that, even if I get a job.  (That was a joke.  I NEED a job within three months or else we won't be able to pay rent.)

P.S.  Somebody remind me to apply to grad school at some point before December.  

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