My feet are killing me again. I should've taken the 1 back to my house from the post office. I want a car. I never wanted a car in years. Today was a vacation day but I'm back at work tomorrow. I got up 10 minutes later and left the house at 8:30 instead of 8:20, to go to Berkeley and talk to someone at UC Berkeley Extension about adult teaching certification. It seems cool but mom doesn't want me to spend all that money and still not get a teaching job, like what happened with my TESOL cert. I don't know either but part of the program is a required 4 semesters of teaching, so I imagine if you are in the program, people know you need to be hired, and maybe want to hire you? I have no idea. The woman said they do not have job placement, but the teachers can help, they've been in the business for years, etc, and she gave me a list of Adult Schools in the area. I should call some and see how the job market is, probably bad right now. Their classes are all on the weekend so it'd be pretty easy.

Then I went to eat a muffin and drink decaf. People look at me like I'm insane when I order decaf before noon. I want to simulate awakeness. I like not shaking all the time, so I don't really want to go back. I did a layout for the next ypolita book, still need to print it out though, because I'm not sure about the spacing, this book is a very space conscious book. Then I transcribed 11 Word pages worth of poetry bootlegs, as I'm calling them (4 different readings). Started writing a play. Created a new folder in My Documents called Oakland poems. Then I went and ate some Thai vegetarian. Then I called my mom and walked around. Then I ate some plain frozen yogurt with bananas, and I ordered all my Diary pages for my Dusie 4 book. Then I went to Kinkos and made a go-by 1 sided to 2 sided, with images. Now I have to make sure I like it and then print off or copy I mean how many copies? 50? Then I went to the post office and mailed off some chaps and picked up my package - which was The Concher, yes I bought it more for the chocolate. Then I walked way too long with a huge load on my shoulder, no wait first I went to Walgreens, bought scouring pads, eyebrow pencil (my eyebrows are driving me insane!) contact lens case (I lost mine at crunch I think) bagel chips (craving salt) and a Coke (BAD). Then I walked miserably home. Then I did something for 30 minutes I don't know what. Very important I'm sure. Reorganized my bags, and took out my laptop, got the big stupid marc jacobs bag I bought for my '08 poetry readings, put my other two bags in it, and headed to the city. I took back the stupid bag and even though I bought it on my Nordstroms card I said can you put it back to my debit card, so now my rent check won't bounce yay. Then I went to Asta Yoga, took Nicole's class and felt the yoga bliss like only halfway through. Then I tried to go to Azteca, used to be my favorite enchiladas anywhere, but it doesn't exist anymore, it is a Please Wait to be Seated place now. Horrors! I stood in front of it like a few pauses too long going huh. So instead I went to Casa Mexicana, which is ok, pretty good actually, mole sauce. Then I went to Books & Bookshelves for the Kelsey St Press reading. A lot a lot of people. Very long reading, standing room only, lasted until 10. I wrote more poetry bootlegs. A lot. Wrote 10 pages in my itsy bitsy palm sized notebook. It got very very tiring, writing so much and thinking so much, but I kept at it, obsessively. Traded David H three of Logan's chaps for three chaps (Dusie '06 (OMG!) In Fortune-Levin/Stanley/Theis, Rachel Levitsky-Cartographies of Error, Rob Halpern-Weak Link). Bought two book books (Dolores Dorantes-Sexopurosexoveloz and Septiembre, and Susan Gevertz-Black Box Cutaway (Kelsey st press!)) and tried to buy his Your Wilderness & Mine, but he wouldn't let me pay. David! Heard another good line on Bart for the Play. Now I'm going to sleep that was a hectic vacation!

Three days of head splitting headaches, morning, noon and night, and then I remember my nose spray, and it instantly dissipates. I missed two of my favorite classes because of it. Also, a possibly related exhaustion. Had a quad pain, a upper right arm pain, and then I walked so much Friday night that I feel that the bottoms of my feet are bruised. Then I went to a very crowded heat vinyasa class yesterday I had to switch my mat perpendicular to the others and kept getting kicked on one side, and this girl's fluffy hair all over my other side (why couldn't she move back - top of the mat doesn't have to be literal!)

I'm out of licorice tea and I can't think of any random health food store in Oakland besides Whole Foods. I'm really much more into going to the no name places - support the locals and all, but there might not be any around here. Joined ANOTHER credit union, instead of using ING for savings, was thinking why use any bank at all when I can go to a credit union. I'm surprised anyone still has their money in those bad banks; chase, b of a, wells. Why? Take it out! I think its similar to how there is a line to the door at Starbucks, and then the no name cafe two doors down, no line ever, plus they are totally nicer. No one knows about it.

One of my yoga teachers said a quote from Deepak Chopra and I liked it so I went and checked out a DC book, I am such a dork, but it has a nice heart meditation in it that I've been doing. It is very easy to feel heart sensations as you meditate, much more than third eye, or the kundalini thing. Then he said people who are commitment phobic and often fall for unavailable men (my favorite story), the real reason is they feel that there is no possibility of a connection to God (or Spirit=whatever), that it is unreachable. Oh, and that love is hopeless. Hmmm.

Goodreads reviews 2009

"I wonder how many of us realize that ours is the only country to have ever actually used WMD." I'm pretty sure I thoroughly enjoyed this, but that was over a week ago. Blushing on BART... This was one of the most amazing, beautiful poetries on grief I've ever read. Plan on reading this one over and over. I like how these poems about art look like visual arts in themselves... I like the subject matter- viewing Dickinson through a buddhist lens - but the way he writes it is really annoying, cloyingly sappy, etc. "she saw him as a stoic of what is left out" Absolutely terrifying. This shit is whack/wack(y)- I kept reading the blurbs over and over but I don't think I understand. The secret, I suspect, is you must find the lavender bedroom, and maybe go into the closet where the unicorn is (like narnia,) and then everything will be revealed. Where is the lavender bedroom and who is this rude girl?verging on philosophy, piecharts of "reality" = deep there are moments that seem, personal, personal moments of isolation or alienation, mixed with this sort of professional or jargony language that also reeks of alienation, also a good bit of I don't understand but I love it, also the word "eyelets"Really cool subject matter, I would never have thought about this subject matter as a subject matter, and even cooler is at the center of the subject matter is a mystery, and so you aren't even sure what you are reading about exactly. The beginning of a study, so much untapped into, although also, rather anglo-centric. Maybe some new academic will expand (or maybe has?)this study to include african or asian systems of memory...This might be about to go into a very special bookshelf called books that have fallen into the bath and are too sopping wet to read. I was still trying to figure out what expedient means means when it expediently, or unexpediently, fell. Oddly, the cover is curling up so it looks like a scroll...hmmmm, mystical. Kind of like those 2 almost identical pictures on the comics page where it says Can you find 8 things that are different? I think I found maybe 4. I like how this book starts out very linear and straightforward, and then slowly becomes more and more unreadable or at least very difficult. Kind of like my life. So genius! One of those - why didn't I think of this - kinds of things... I checked this out entirely based on the author photo. poems after the dali lamas (all of them, I think) really strange and normal at the same time. Mine is blue, and backwards. On my very last day of yoga at the yoga studio that I just broke up with, I propped this book up behind my mat, and used it as a point of focus, and kept repeating like the native tongue the vanquished like the native tongue the vanquished like the native tongue the vanquished like the native tongue the vanquished like the native tongue the vanquished until I sort of understood what it meant. My favorite is #10. Very addictive. Total cliffhanger ending. When is the sequel? sped read in 30 minutes, which probably means I didn't really like it, yes? Its like a story, is my problem. When I'm expecting something poetry like but instead get a story, it is horrifying. I am so conservative in my desire for poetry to just be poetry. I should move back to Texas.Much more specific than the last dali lama book I read which was sort of pop psychology or something, this is very specific explanation of the buddhist belief and the steps laid out to enlightenment. Geniuses. in the genre of that sort of abstract-ish, static, opaque, bunch of one-syllable words all in a row, type poetic styles, but then occasionally all the sudden a very lyrical and human human line arises. Seems to be about an intersection between nature and technology and maybe an absence of the human but just occasionally a glimpse of the human (still here a little). Hmmm, a literary Behind the Green Door? Less stars for the gnoetry. I just can't get into computer generated... Loved Julia Drescher, Erica Lewis, and CJ Martin. Also really liked the Editor's note about the etymology of "pelican." Very 90's, alien abductions, Trust No One! I had a nightmare after reading this. mystical sad sweet and erotic. I prolonged finishing this one as long as possible... Hijacking my own comment for a review: Kind of not poetry, but not really prose. Kind of a narrative but not really. And the subject matter, which I thought might depress me, has so far only intrigued. But as I read further it got sadder, which is weird as its in reverse chronological order, like a blog, and so things technically get better as you go along, but maybe it is sadder when you are starting to lose your memory than when you have totally lost it. This book made me want to go rearrange my books and put all my elizabeth treadwell books together so I can just go over take them all out and like rub them all in my hair or something. post modern neo romanticism. A revisioning of the past of the old of the passed. Micah's got a musciality you don't see much anymore. I think he's figured out a way to write in a way that is pre-postmodern without being not post modern. Very cool. Definitely too short, and I still don't understand boys. So weird!

total 165 books read, only 9 of which were prose...

I did yoga four days in a row and I don't even feel anything. Not tired, not blissed. I think I could go again today. But I should probably do an errand. But last night, at Asta yoga I did the tripod headstand transition to bakasana without putting my feet down first. Although I kind of cheated and I really do balasana not bakasana, because I think of my abnormally long legs (compared to my short short torso) I have to have the knees sticking out or there is too much leg to put behind me. I also got help on the handstand but it didn't really work out, I wish the middle part of my body was not so heavy. I think I'm too fat for this pose. But I really love how Asta has super mushy carpet, it actually feels safer than It's Yoga, and I think I'm just barely afraid. I think it will get me over my fears.

Watched this movie seemingly all about annoying people getting in your personal space.



I think my aesthetics are not to make things more ugly, aren't they ugly enough? Saw the last half of an Andy Warhol documentary at the museum and feel more inspired by him. He never showed a wrinkle on anyone, etc. Like also how he was always working but it was art. Wish my life was that. Instead of always working but its work.

My new year's resolution was not to stop blogging. I kept talking all December long how I couldn't wait for my January flu, because last year I got a flu and it was wonderful, but then I got sick but it wasn't the flu and it wasn't wonderful. asthma and a painful cough that never becomes "productive" - weird illness. I didn't make any resolutions really but I made a list of nostalgias. Dyed my hair cherry chocolate mousse. It is already fading out though. My plot to return to Mission. Asta Yoga in the old style I love. Reading an Anne Rice book until the middle of the night, except I fell asleep. Vintage clothes shopping at Clothes Contact. Was looking at all the old weird 60's and 70's outfits, and how I used to wear psychedelic outfits as my everyday outfit. Don't think I have the nerve anymore! I love that place though because it is by the pound, I bought two very light things and it was around $3.

Dreamt of an old friend who I used to have a crush on, but he always had a girlfriend. He was a Scorpio, I think they like to have secrets. So it was like almost dating when we would hang out, but not. It was confusing. He would talk about how he was in a loveless relationship, and I never understood or understand why people like that never leave. Fear I think. I wanted him to break up with her and date me and I think he wanted us to hook up first and feel safe before breaking up. But I never would have felt comfortable with that. Then it was like a two confused people standoff, and we just wandered off. I'm always alone and it is not horrible, so I don't understand that fear. Funny. The fear of being in a relationship is probably more. When would I write! Or blog. I like all the "things" I do, but I think I developed them to fill the void.

Oh, maybe 4 days of yoga did do something, who is blogging in the 7 AM hour?