Scylla and Charybdis

I sent off 3 more letters today, or a total of 13 poems...plus the poem I sent off electronically yesterday. Thinking back, I should have sent two, but I'd settled on one poem in another document and thus forgot about it until digging around in all my stuff today.

I failed in my attempt at an all-nighter. In fact, there never really was any attempt. The dog ended up in my room and since she's getting older, I didn't want her to have to deal with the light on all night and I wasn't about to kick her out, so I just went to bed around 12am (and subsequently slept like crap all night).

So the writing is sketchy. I've been meaning to write to two newspapers and offer them services, but I don't know how that will turn out. I'm leaning towards not-so-great, which makes me want to not bother at all, hence saving me two (or four if SASEs [self addressed stamped envelope] are involved) stamps. Still, there's another part of me that says, "Well hell, why not?" so I'm still iffy on all that.

No one needs writers anymore it seems. Anytime I do a job search, it's always for engineers and sales people, always sales people. Customer service - crap that has to do with dealing with bitchy people for days and months and years on end. No offense to the human population (actually, scratch that, I don't care), but fuck that. People suck. You all know my position on that. It's similar to Dane Cook's position on shoes. There's got to be something out there that fits me better. Something I can slip into without too much worry, something that puts me in a position that even if I deal with people, my status puts them off to even thinking about being bitchy. A long shot, I know, and something I'll probably never, or at least not soon, find. I'll probably have to settle on something that simply brings in dough until...well, I'm not sure.

Actually, I want to say, "Until we move." There's more opportunity in Pennsylvania. At least, that's what I've been telling myself. There isn't much that Champaign/Rantoul has to offer, as we all know. I should just apply to Barnes & Noble for now because at least then I'd be in a quiet atmosphere where the likelihood of meeting up with bitchy people is greatly minimized. But then there's another problem. The car. I made the mistake of saying, "This is Nikki's summer of travel!" The reason behind my decision to work, that and the writing. But it turns out since we only have two cars and mom will be working, dad will be at school, and someone will have to take Ashley to Parkland, the ability to travel is slim to none. Summer of travel my ass. My plans with Stacey got cancelled, thus ruining the possibility of visiting my grandparents, and you all know how my Colorado trip went. I feel like I should do something, but at the same time, I feel like I'm simply stuck between a rock and a hard place. Sure, I should build up my credit and aim for a car, but even with a credit card, what do I do? You all know me - I never buy anything. Ok, that's not necessarily true, but when I do buy things, I never buy enough to merit the use of a credit card as it is. $100 a pop, max (and I think that's only happened twice and even then it was planned).

Another thing I need to do is email the graduate evaluators (or whatever you'd like to call them) and ask about my previous attempt to get into their school. As it was the writing samples that took me out, I need to find out (if at all possible) what it was that they didn't like. Was it the style? The content? Or is it simply that I'm a bad writer and have never realized it (which I doubt due to the fact that I've never had a teacher take me aside and inform me, and I've had some that I know they would have done if it were true, or at the very least, write plenty all over a story/poem I've turned in, and though I've had not-so-awesome comments before, never anything telling me I need to rethink everything). Perhaps I should do that now before I forget...

So that's me. I feel a bit like Megan, though I think I'm stressing less because she doesn't know what will happen if those morons don't contact her (which also makes no sense to me considering how this country appears to be hurting for teachers 365 days a year). In the end, once I get answers from the grad schools (if I do - they'll have to remember who I am or dig up my file, that is, if my file still exists...which also reminds me, I need to contact two professors about reference letters as well as the career center in order to ask about my file info blah blah blah) I'm going to make a second attempt. I'm not going to bother with U of I this time around. I've heard way too many negative things about them. I place most stock not in what my father and all his collegues say, but Mari, the younger (my age actually) sister of Nick (Stacey's boyfriend) as she went there as an art student. Apparently all the art teachers have their minds made up already as to what is art (which most of us would probably throw up on - you know, shit on canvas, 5-yr-old scribble, that sort of thing) and what is not (such as Mari's work, which is very impressive), and that sort of thing always worries me. People who reject things and have no open mind when it comes to writing/art/etc. that is different from what they write/create/etc. and thus they are biased against things. I keep telling Stacey that if Mari does open an art gallery, she can hire me. I always did love art and music and all things that pay $0 in this world. Go figure. Point is, Mari hated U of I (hear hear!) so this time I'll try Penn State. See what happens. That would be handy. Besides, my itch to go somewhere has not been scratched and I like to look at that sort of thing as a major adventure, and I'm always up for a new adventure.

So yeah, if that goes through, Nicole will be going to Pennsylvania.

Nicole also needs to get her butt to the library to read two books in order to get a feel for another publisher in order to submit in the case that they match what I write. I went through a lot of my poetry lists to try and find out who is good and who's information is basically dead. Hard to say though - I'd have to phone some people if I wanted to know really bad, but the easier way would to just find an updated Poet's Market (Barnes & Noble trip, sneak in the back and check without buying). Until then I'm waiting on about 5 email messages sent out yesterday (some coming back that same hour saying "Sorry, this ain't goin' thru."). One came back positive, though the editor said nothing about possible submissions. Who knows.

Whew! *sigh* There's a lot I need to do, to consider, all that jazz. But this blog entry has gotten long enough and I'm sure you all have things you need to do (or not, I don't know) so until next time!

Currently: Mm...I dunno...

Edit: Brownies - that's what he made. And he bought icing to boot.