Mountatin Greetings!

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Goin' Upstate

While "goin' upstate" usually means Sing-Sing or some other prison that is north of New York City, fortunately that is not the case for me. Husband and I are headed for a week of fresh air and fun with friends and family in the Catskills. Unfortunately, "goin' upstate" does mean limited internet access - I think even more limited than when we were at the Jersey Shore last summer. Sigh. I do love me my internet access. What's a vacation without blog reading?

However, I do hope that this week away will give me some time to take a very deep breath. It's unbelievable how many exciting, life-altering events have happened within the last month (quick recap: Off the Beaten (Subway) Track is available for purchase, Husband was asked to move to London for work, and I finally was accepted into the MFA program at New School; one thing that did not happen which needs to happen is a consulting contract, which should have started in mid-July but is dragging on forever, although in retrospect, I may have exploded if I took that on while all the other things were happening). If my time upstate allows me to calm down and stop anxiously picking the flesh off my cuticles, it will be worthwhile.

Probably won't be included in the press release...

The always wonderful Denise at Flamingo House Rules wrote a great review of Off the Beaten (Subway) Track that made me laugh my ass off as much as the book made her laugh her ass off.

My favorite line: "The penis jokes in the book - awesome."

Now, if only I could convince the publishing folks to include that in a reviews section on the press release...

(By the way, if anyone is interested in doing a blog book tour, I'm so up for it! Also, I'd forever be grateful if readers could post reviews on their blogs - which I would of course link to - as well as on Amazon. My friend/agent says it is critical to do so.)

Buzz Off

Husband returned from his trip to Los Angeles and Las Vegas last night/early morning. As we went to bed, we traded stories about our respective trips.

"I got a free vibrator!" I told him. It was dark, so I couldn't make out the exact expression on his face, but he seemed to be pretending to frown and holding in a laugh.

"So you're replacing me?" he wondered.

"Not all of you, silly! Just part of you..."

"Hey!" he protested, tickling me and laughing.

Ah, good times. I forgot to tell him about the four boxes of Merci chocolate in the fridge. Hope he doesn't get the wrong idea while I'm at class tonight.

Mmmmm.... Mars Bars!

Yesterday I ate a Mars Bar. It's not one of my original stock in which I brought back from London in March or even from the second batch a friend gave me in April when he stayed with us for two short nights. Instead, I purchased it at a British shop in that gray area between Greenwich Village and Chelsea two weeks ago. I figured I could keep in the fridge until I heard back from New School about whether or not I'll be part of the class of 2010.

It turns out that the Tarot card reader I visited in early March was correct: I am indeed attending the New School in the fall!!! The call came today yesterday at 5:15 PM from the admissions office. I'm nervous as hell, but also excited. Whew! What a trip!

Speaking of trips, the Tarot reader's other prediction involved the chance to travel extensively or even live in another country in the next year. That seemed even less likely than getting into New School, so I didn't really think about it. Yet this too shall come to pass it seems: Husband's company asked him to move to London for four years. The relocation is to take place in March 2009. It is an amazing career move for him. When I didn't think I was going to get into an MFA program, I was nervous about moving, but pleased to have easy access to Mars Bars. I figured that I could apply to writing programs over there and keep my fingers crossed that I'd get in. We plan on renting a two bedroom flat, so there is plenty of room for visitors. (Hint, hint.)

Clearly, the New School thing is a wonderful complicating factor. For now, I plan to attend the first year of classes, then join Husband in London for the summer. I'll return to NYC for the second year. Hopefully, he'll be coming to NYC for work frequently and I'll get to go see him in London during school breaks. The thought of all this is scaring the shit out of me, though.

To put it mildly, there's a lot going on here - multiple tentacles of happenings, reaching out and grabbing. Lots of good and interesting things, but still, it is hard for me to absorb it all, let alone savor anything.

Rats!

On the plane ride back from BlogHer, I read a fascinating book about the history of rats in New York City, Rats by Robert Sullivan. The best parts of the book were the historical anecdotes and facts about rats. Also, the few gross-o things I learned (i.e. - if the rat population grows too large to support itself, the furry beady-eyed beasts turn to cannibalism) and squeamish close encounters with rats were great. Less interesting was the author's observations of and ruminations about some rats in an alley in downtown New York, which got me thinking about types of nonfiction writing.

Last week after my writing class, I spoke to the instructor about my desire to attend an MFA program in the fall. He felt that I demonstrated excellent progress in class, but that my writing was not literary, but more journalistic. He described it as "magazine-y," and pointed out that in the prior week I described a couple using the word yuppie. "Yuppie is a label," he said. "It doesn't mean anything."

My additional assignment for this week is to take a page of an article in Vanity Fair and a page from New York, circle all the adjectives, copy it, and bring it to class. I began working on it on my way to the conference, only to discover that what I thought would be obvious isn't so. Sure, I know that an adjective describes a noun, but in reading these articles, I'm having a hard time determining how certain words are being used. Perhaps this is the point of the exercise. Or perhaps I am dumb. In any event, as I read Rats, I tried to determine whether the parts of the book I liked were literary or journalistic. (Answer: Don't know yet. Still trying to understand what makes something "magazine-y" versus "literary.")

So much to learn, so little time. Of one thing in which I am certain: if a rat ever swam up through my toilet bowl, as is known to happen because they are strong swimmers (I was going to say Olympic, but maybe that's magazine-y?), and poked its whiskered nose out, I'd have a heart attack.

Seeing the Light (For Mom)

While I visited my parents a few weeks ago, my mom mentioned that my dad recently broke one of those newfangled long-lasting light bulbs. Not knowing that there is a special way to dispose of those bulbs, he just threw everything out. Not long after that, the Village of Wilmette sent residents a special kit to use in the event that one of those light bulbs break. My mom freaked.

"There's mercury in the living room!" she fretted as I sat with her at the kitchen table.

"So?"

"So what if..." then listed a long stream of very unlikely detrimental effects to women of childbearing age who actually want children, i.e. - my sister.

"Um, I think you are overthinking this. It's not that big a deal."

"That's what so-and-so said at work," she replied, clearly not believing either of us.

This is why I am so excited that florescent light bulb disposal kits were included in the BlogHer Conference goodie bags. Alex even generously donated hers to me to pass on to my mom. So, mom, when you come to see my in NYC in a few weeks, leave extra space in your suitcase for your light bulb safety kits.