point, game, set, match, happines

Those of you who know me, know that i have, what some may call, a tennis "problem". I'm always bullying people into going out in the hot weather to play with me, pressuring OTHERS to sign their young daughters up on private primary school teams, spending countless hours restringing my rackets and scanning online merchants for the cutest new tennis skirts. But because most of my friends don't play tennis, and a lot of my time lately has been stalking bird and egg, I've only had memories of past tennis happiness to get me through the day. Until this week, which has been full of up at dawn mornings, watching the early rounds of Wimbledon live on the tennis network. Little summer pleasure.

hapless human luck

Today I made a big mistake. 5 miles outside at 11am. I've been training harder these days, and had intended to go to the workout room and do an hour on the elliptical (a.k.a--suicide machine) but a locksmith was working on the door. So I decided to just run outside, despite my better judgment. After all, I thought I felt a breeze on the way to the workout room, and, I thought, the expected daily high of 97 with 85 percent humidity couldn't be that bad in late morning.

See the problem with the running psyche is totally different down South than it is up North. As I would imagine would be true for anyone doing endurance heat training. In the North, you can get to 5, 6 miles before ever having that little tick needling into your mind--I'm tired, I didn't drink enough water, my calf feels a little tight. But it's a molehill, and eventually you force through it. But down here, especially in the extreme heat, you get to the first mental block in under a mile. And it's not about the body as much, you feel strong. But you can't breathe, your lungs feel hot, your skin is covered in dew.

Anyway I've read that the body adjusts--the exoskeleton and organs learn the new environment. But the brain is a hard thing to retrain.

In other news, I finally snagged a picture of the mama bird sitting on the egg. I had to turn my flash off so that I didn't scare her away, so it's a little whitewashed, but you can see her pretty clearly. I don't know what kind of bird it is. Mom, if you are reading this, ask Dad to show you how to post a comment and tell me what kind of bird this is.



She has sweet eyes. And in the morning, she chases chipmunks through the bushes. It's absolutely hilarious.

Oh, and check this out. Fantastic.

hatch

long post making up for june slack

New shoes. Nothing says I’m tough better than blue skulls surrounded by red, yellow, and green hearts.

Back in Georgia from Ohio where I was working to get the Wick website finished so that it can go live soon. I will post a link to that when they do go live. The Wick authors page, which took me about an additional 25 hours than I originally planned, has some good links to journals, prizes, publishers, etc…

I am very glad to be back. I’m a pretty nervous flier and the thought of being ground bound for at least a few months is very comforting indeed. Yesterday the entire 18th row of Airtran flight 205 was entirely hysterical. The two people next to me were holding each other’s hands so tight that I don’t think they’ll ever get the blood back to their knuckles. And across the row from me there were two very logical-looking 40-somethings that just completely panicked when we were at cruising altitude. Every little acceleration was accompanied by them jerking their heads up from their NYTimes suduko and scanning around frantically to see who else was alarmed. Not even my old standby US Weekly-stocked with new photographs of Shiloh Jolie-Pitt and Jessica Simpson’s lose 20 pounds in 2 weeks without going into Kidney failure-kept me calm. Obviously we landed safe enough. More than enough to feel glad to be back.

Two very cool "you ride the bike and we'll film the video in one take" music videos. The first is Bat for Lashes, and very creepy. The second is Rumble Strips and pretty damn cute.

vow

Last weekend I was home to go to my Aunt's wedding. It was okay. As fun as a dry wedding can be on a hot day with a full Catholic mass. I did get to do one of the readings from Genesis, though, which despite the irony of me actually delivering the reading, was actually a pretty fun thing to do. It made me miss teaching.

Instead of using my grant money to write and not worry about getting a job this summer--all I can do is worry about not having a job for the fall. And last week I watched a marathon on MSNBC of this prison documentary series called "lockdown" for approximately 10 hours. All I know is that I started it after I got back from my run in the early morning, and when it was finished, the sun was going down. And now I'm having dreams that I'm in a prison cell with what seems to be my baby (to whom I also gave birth in prison) and I can't get us out, despite my many lavish escape plans. I think that the baby is my book. But I haven't figured out what the prison is yet.

I forget where I came across this, but it makes me laugh:


Maybe for the rest of the summer, instead of worrying, I'll try to figure out how to do this on a treadmill. Now I just need some band mates as cool as OK Go.

first in the new

Slap Leather

If you want to survive,
you’ve got to show your weapon
first. Every Cowboy knows
the boon of outdraw.

Your horse will wait for you—

he’s slow-chewing the grains,
mane loosening dirt into the trough.

You’ve got to keep your gun
slung low in your waistband.

Let the sun catch it.

But only that for fanfare,
no nickel digs oils-shined,
no gloves to keep the sweat away.

If you want to survive,
you’ve got to starve the appetite,
the ache of the newly blind
on the first auburn evening.

If you outlive the lawmen,
and mob roping for a lynch,
you better run to the railheads.

There’s still the cedar bench,
iron bars, lonely judge sick
of silver prospecting—

that one who watched you,
from the Mining Exchange,
dress those brothers in bullets.