A pleasant, not-so-pleasant, surprise

Today I was offered a summer internship with the San Diego Union-Tribune, my first choice as far as summer internships go. It's a large paper in a beautiful, exciting city. And I have family there I could live with for a few months. And the Trib wanted me to write features and entertainment/lifestyle stuff.

Only...it's unpaid.

For some reason I was under the impression it paid a fairly decent amount of money each week, because I remember our internship listerv saying so...but when I was talking to the internship coordinator on the phone, he assured me that it is most definitely unpaid.

And my heart broke.

I can't complain, because the Republic is an amazing and...uh, highly paid position, but I will be doing strictly news writing there. And I will be spending three months in one of the most sweltering, disgusting cities in the U.S.

I had dreams of crashing on my sister's couch, hanging out at the beach during my time off, and writing fun, feature-y articles about a city I love.

I really, really wanted this...but it would be kind of ludicrous to accept an unpaid position over one that can support me for three months--and then some (and by 'then some' I mean a trip to Thailand to visit my dear friend June for a few weeks).

I am conflicted and torn and a little pouty. But I think it's in a good way. A few years ago there was no way I would have believed that two very large, reputable papers would be asking me to write for them.

At least I have a definite game plan for the summer.

Farewell San Diego, hello Phoenix.

Heart of...?

This semester is not shaping up to be what I thought it would.

My Italian class will probably be canceled, pushing me down to 9 units, I am stuck in Heart of Darkness hell in my literary analysis class as we are studying that single book for the entire semester, and I have discovered from about two days in my Reporting Public Affairs class that my knowledge and interest in government affairs is equivalent to my knowledge and interest in organized sports (slim to none).

And I have no energy left to deal with family disasters. This summer was one big terrible mess. The angry emails and screaming matches over the phone were preferable to the fake, fucked up games we're all playing now. I have no energy left to deal with the lies, the denial, the manipulation. I have just enough energy left to force a smile and say a few neutral words to keep me exempt from threats of non-payment. And all that's left is the shell of a relationship, and right now, I’m content with that. Maybe that’s all we can aspire to.

In fact, I haven’t had a single conversation with anyone in this fucking town that extends beyond pleasantries, mild complaints, or school-related topics in god knows how long.

And it's beginning to get easier to bear.

On my way

First post of the new year...and it's good news!

I found out this morning that I was accepted into the summer internship program at the Arizona Republic...the largest newspaper in Arizona!!!

Not only is it a coveted internship (I was one of five accepted from applicants across the country!) but it is paid--a rare thing in the newspaper industry these days! I get a big fat paycheck of $650 each week! (And I have already decided I am going to use my earnings for a trip overseas.)

I won't be writing entertainment or features, but nonetheless, it is a fantastic opportunity.

I'm still kind of in shock because I never thought I would actually land this internship. Crazy!!

Anyway, more to come later this week, with photos included.

Townie for some weeks

A blend of heavy drinking, heavy sleeping, family time and catching up with long lost friends has been my winter break thus far (more of the first and last together).

I chalk it up to the fact that I'm making up for lost time. This last semester I worked, wrote, wrote some more, and in my free time was too tired to socialize or do anything but sleep or watch The Office (and Gossip Girl, I shamefully admit). It feels nice to have absolutely nothing to do.

I feel like I had more to write five minutes ago.....apparently I'm a little rusty with the whole blogging thing. It's been a while. Or maybe it's just that the last three weeks can really be summed up in that first paragraph.

It's a good thing I don't live in this town. A frightening image of myself ten years from now is too easily conjured up when I think about it: 33 year-old stay-at-home mom with with three kids, a husband in construction, a dog (or two) who spends her time in a bathrobe and slippers, baking bread, darning her hubbie's socks, and occasionally submitting freelance articles to the Daily Courier for extra cash and an ego boost..

I better get a summer internship somewhere--anywhere--that takes me away to another, far my interesting and diverse city (San Diego, San Fran, NYC??) Something will have gone terribly awry in my career plans if I end up here this coming summer.

Keep your fingers crossed for me....

The Feast

The invitation in

a swirling cursive script

tied with a ribbon

red

arrives requesting my presence at the sweeping

stretching estate

When I come he takes

my gloved hand

white

a finger on my wrist

pulse racing

regret and hunger folded into

his gaze

I am led through a maze

of candelabra and stale cigarette

smoke and his smile flickers

lingers then withers

dies

“Shall we my dear?” he whispers pulling back a chair

in a room dark as a grave with a table

polished like a casket and

I wouldn’t mind bleeding here dying

here staying forever

here

Dinner is a bloody slab of meat he

severs and slices

blade scraping fork as he brings the carcass

to his lips

gnaws it off, face in a sneer

whatever is, whatever was

disappears

His mouth at my ear, jaw

throat

can’t think can’t speak he

steals thoughts and words like

a thief and I’m lapping the spilled wine

from the table like a cat

cleaning herself in the street

Chew me up swallow me

whole

kiss my red wine lips

hard

you are

an animal

Untitled poem

We are so fragile

it is amazing our bodies

aren’t broken coming out

of the womb

bones crushed

to a fine white powder

and swept away when the breeze

picks up

City of God

Here is a gun
Take it and make yourself useful, kid
Go find someone you don’t like
Someone who stole from you
Or called you a name
Or bumped you in the street
And shoot them dead

And don’t you worry about the mess
The sun will dry the blood
It will flake off
No one will remember
Or care
In a day or two

We will stomp their bodies in the streets
Fill our cups
And toast to a city
That is ours

So take the gun
(No charge)

Tell your friends

Filth

Every day we bathe and shower and try
failing
to rinse the layers of grime from our broken bodies

we scrub and scour
in circular patterns that leave us itchy and depleted

but are we ever clean? maybe for a minute
or an hour
or maybe never

like the sour smell under my fingernails
after mincing
cloves and cloves of garlic

it lingers for days despite
the soap
and water routine

we are stained oh holy god
we are stained
and nothing washes away these sins

I am already deteriorating
at the age
of 22

Poetry n' things

I decided I'm going to post some poetry I've been writing over the semester in my intro poetry class.

Most of it is dark and depressing, so for those of you who know me, take it with a grain of salt. My worst thoughts often come out when writing, but I usually feel better afterwards.

Untitled

In my dream last night

we spoke in Italian in long

fluid phrases I can't now recall

Remembering the words is like trying to read this page

under the ripple and swell

of small waves

It is like trying to see your features

in that dark room

with only splinters of light

making their way in through the shades

Did I speak them aloud into the tangles of my sheets?

Was I finally able to roll my R’s?

Did you hear me

halfway around the world

while you were awake?