I'd like to end this job searching monotony. JINX

I don't really like updating this blog because my writing has been treacherous and torturous to read lately. Not only am I tired of having to force myself to read the classics, but the written word has been driving me nuts. My bookshelf is embarrassing and I am ready to trash it all. I can't seem to finish anything except Cormac McCarthy. Despite the fact that he lost his punctuation he makes more sense than trying to sit around and reviewing Strunk and White as if somehow, in the midst of any creative urge I may have with poetry at the moment, it will make me write better. Or differently. Or perfectly, more like.

I am sure once the temperatures reduce themselves to a level of I can tolerate and the colors of nature match up to my idea of color perfection in my own imagination then the words will start dumping out on the page, rather terribly and then by the end of the winter they will be an entirely new style, something that I will consider putting into my first chapbook years from now. Maybe once I start finding authors I enjoy. And authors who are writing now. And I have been. It's just, I need the reading material. I need to start clearing the academic muck to find my own voice.

And really, there is nothing that inspires me less than being on a constant search for a job. At least with my words. The kind of constant trance I have to be in when I am in a phase where I am writing a lot of poetry is crucially against my making of sense and fake presentation I must endure when trying to find a job. It's just the way of things. And I finally have a job interview on Monday that will be for something tolerable, and convenient, and lying right upon one of my obsessions. I've never had a job where I had a bit of a knowledge base to start from, and can learn upon, instead of being a novice at everything. And when the knowledge base is from nothing but my own interest and life experience, I can't help but think that it is perfect for me in a rather intolerable situation I have with one more semester of school left to go.

But jobs, schmobs. I just hope that I get the job and I can celebrate with buying myself a pretty piece of lingerie that can be worn on the outside. I am really into that look right now, and have been obsessing over it for a couple of years as well. I am just always poor as sin and can't justify paying what lingerie wants me to pay for it. You can't really buy much of it used, either. It harks back to me at eighteen when I tried doing it on a regular basis. I still have one of my shirts, and every time I wear it I get hooted at regularly as if somehow I really do resemble a streetwalker. A streetwalker in Southmoreland? Yes, the rich white art school boys really wish, apparently.