January 4: Cold, Sister, Classic Saint Marty, New Cartoon

It is cold.  Damn cold.  Twenty-below-zero-windchill cold.  My daughter and son's Christmas vacation has already been extended by a day.  Their school cancelled just a little while ago.  My six-year-old son did a victory dance.  My daughter simply said, "Ye-esssssss."

It has been a busy day.  Played in the praise band for church in the morning.  Played the organ for a funeral at the local Episcopal Church in the afternoon.  Snowblowing after that.  Then I helped make dinner at my parents' house.  Cheese quiche.  I'm beat.  Looking forward to a quiet evening at home, reading a good book.

Quick update:  my sister is still in the hospital.  They're testing her now for meningitis.  She's still not mentally sound.  No hallucinations, but she still has moments where she's not in touch with reality.  She pulled her own IV line when nobody was looking.  She insists I visited her in the middle of the night.  This is not the sister I know.  I hope the doctors get some kind of definitive diagnosis soon.

Tonight's episode of Classic Saint Marty first aired three years ago.  Unfortunately, its subjects are still pretty current.

January 4, 2012:  WiFi, Loser

Yes, I got the WiFi working at my house.  Actually, I just got the wireless working, and I'm feeling a little smart.  I don't know why I'm feeling smart.  The WiFi is working because of a very nice guy named Mike from AT&T who spent about 40 minutes on the phone with me this evening.  I just followed Mike's instructions.  Before that, I was an angry mess.  Setting this Internet up at my house just proved two things to me:  (1) I suck at doing technical things, and (2) I need  more friends who know how to do technical things.

I just checked my e-mail to prove to myself that I could check my e-mail at home.  I shouldn't have.  There was a message from the people who sponsor the Phil Levine Poetry Contest.  I've been waiting for about three months for this e-mail.  Unfortunately, the news wasn't great.  It wasn't even good.  I didn't win.  I wasn't even a finalist.  I really thought I had a shot with this book.  I worked harder on this manuscript than I did on my MFA thesis.  It has better poems in it and holds together better.  I'm really tired of disappointment. 

Yup

My friend Wonder Twin told me this afternoon that I'm never going to be named a Blog of Note because people don't want to read whiny, jealous rants all the time.  She's probably right.

I said I was going to write another post tonight if I got the wireless up and running at home.  Here it is.  Not very uplifting, I'm sorry to say.  I shouldn't have checked my e-mail.  I should have just basked in the success of my WiFi.

Saint Marty pretty much feels like a loser tonight.


  

Confessions of Saint Marty

July 19: Perspective, Being a Loser, Harry Potter

Well, after several hours of mulling over the fact that I didn't win that poetry contest, I have taken stock of my life, reevaluated my goals, focused on the really important things in my life, and come to a conclusion.  Losing sucks.

I know that rejection goes hand-in-hand with being a writer.  I know some of the greatest writers never really gained recognition during their lifetimes.  If I don't want to experience rejection, I should probably make chocolate chip cookies for a living.  Poetry, and judging poetry, is so subjective.  The poet who judged the contest which I just lost abysmally did not like my work.  That does not make my poetry bad.  That just means his aesthetic and my aesthetic do not coincide.  (That's a very nice way of saying his taste in poetry is for shit.  Not that I'm bitter.)

I did find out the name of the person who won the contest.  I googled him and read some of his work.  He writes the kind of poems I dislike reading, full of imagery that doesn't come together into something organic and whole.  (That's also a very nice way of saying his poems are for shit.  Not that I'm bitter.)

Gaining some perspective?  Not.

I guess I don't have as much perspective as I thought I did.  Give me a few days, maybe a few shots of tequila.  I'm going to see the new Harry Potter movie tonight.  That will divert my attention from my disappointment and despair for a few hours, anyhow.  Well, that and the garbage can of buttered popcorn I plan to consume.

I think Voldemort judged the poetry contest

Right after I found out about my loss, a friend called to tell me her daughter is in the hospital, dealing with addiction and mental health problems.  I felt like a schmuck for sitting in front of my computer, feeling sorry for myself.  In the grand scheme of things, one little chapbook contest doesn't really amount to a whole lot.  My wife is well.  My kids are healthy.  I have jobs that pay the bills.  Yadda, yadda, yadda.  I get it.

But that thousand dollars in prize money would have really come in handy this summer.

Saint Marty is going to wallow a little while longer.

My schedule tonight

July 19: The Trend Continues

Well, yesterday started with my close encounter with a skunk.  This morning, my stinky week continues.

I just checked the Website for the poetry contest I've been waiting to hear about.  They've finally announced the winner and finalists, and...(insert drum roll here)...I'm not one of them.  Yes, I'm disappointed.  Yes, I'm a little pissed.  Yes, I still can smell skunk in my house.  And, yes, I don't feel like typing anymore at the moment.

I'll collect my thoughts and post something more substantial later.

Saint Marty, over and out.

Got this one down pat!