Tablesaw!

Recently, a member of the npl passed away. Her hame was Mary Youngquist Hazard, but she was known to the Krewe as Nightowl.

A few weeks ago, she sent a note with a self-addressed postcard asking me about a recent puzzle I had authored. I thought it was a cool thing to do, but with the crazyness of the past two months, I forgot to respond. It's a bit late now.

This poem was written by her, and it appears in a few places on the web. It's a good poem with a remarkable restraint. Godspeed, Nightowl.

Winter Reigns

Shimmering, gleaming, glistening glow--
Winter reigns, splendiferous snow!
Won't this sight, this stainless scene,
Endlessly yield days supreme?

Eying ground, deep piled, delights
Skiers scaling garish heights.
Still like eagles soaring, glide
Eager racers; show-offs slide.

Ecstatic children, noses scarved--
Dancing gnomes, seem magic carved--
Doing graceful leaps. Snowballs,
Swishing globules, sail low walls.

Surely year-end's special lure
Eases sorrow we endure,
Every year renews shared dream,
Memories sweet, that timeless stream.

— Mary Youngquist

FriNYTX: 17:30.

I'm really not happy with my life right now, and I don't feel like doing laundry. I haven't felt like doing laundry for a while now, but that was more of a general indolence. Today, I just can't bring myself to go out and deal with a loud room of angry machines churning and churning away. Last night I had a horrible dream in which somebody died and I woke up sobbing. And now, things are just wrong, wrong, wrong.

I haven't felt like writing much since getting back from the NPL convention, and I'm not wholly sure why. I have been in a big reading mood, though. Over the past few days, I've been slowly working through The Canary Trainer, If on a Winter's Night a Traveler, and Swords Against Death, depending on which I decide to pick up at a given time. I've also been recovering a bit. And out a bit. My cousin just returned from military training, a kind of post-boot-camp graduate school for those training to be officers. He regaled us with stories of the Fear-Factor-esque program (designed to eradicate potential sources of panic in those who would have to issue orders), and in return, we filled him in on what had happened regarding my aunt's death. Shortly before he entered this program, my cousin had told him that if something happened to her mother, they were not going to call him, because they wanted him to be able to complete the program without feeling obliged to help. He didn't hear the news until a few weeks after. Now he's back and we're putting the pieces back together for him.

( Also, I've started running again. )

SunNYTX: 31:27. The last step was a little confusing, but all in all it was a lot of fun.

The funeral is over, and perhaps, things can become something approaching normal again. I don't have high hopes that I'll be able to get my sleeping re-regulated by tomorrow for work, though. There's a lot of it that I really don't want to talk about, though. It was hard, since, more than sadness, I was feeling rage. It puts one into a more awkward position in large uncomfortable groups. When one is sad, then if one breaks down, there are tears, perhaps a swaying of legs, and people to support one. When one is angry, then if one cracks, blunt objects come into contact with things or persons from which the should be kept away.

Also, I heard from Will Shortz at the New York Times passing on my crossword puzzle. A while back, Paula Vogel visited UCSB, and I sat in on a miniclass she taught for the playwriting classes. (At the time, I wasn't yet enrolled in the classes.) Rather than delve into the minutiae of craft, she spent a great deal of time instructing us on How to Read Rejection Letters. She had several signs and tricks, the most memorable (and most useless on email) was to wet the paper of the letter (possibly by licking your thumb and smudging) to see if the signature was signed or Xeroxed. Anyway, it's a very helpful skill. Using it, I am heartened by Shortz's note: "The theme, I think, isn't really a New York Times sort of subject. Something entirely pop culture-related like this would probably be better suited for a publication with a younger audience, like Games magazine." How do I read this? that the quality is up to par (which was a bigger anxiety for me), but the subject matter makes it an inappropriate for the audience. Vogel was very big on this, understanding from a rejection letter when the editor (or artistic director) thinks your work is bad and when he or she thinks it's good or interesting or promising but can't select it for other reasons. I'll probably send this on to Games and Kappa (Games' parent) and start working on the next one.

Onward and upward.

Yesterday, I didn't think I'd get any sleep, so I called into work that I wouldn't be there. I didn't get to sleep until about 8 p.m. This morning I was feeling better, but now I'm feeling much, much worse.

Everything about me feels like shit right now.

MonNYTX: 4:45. MonLATX: 3:08. TueNYTX: 5:46. TueLATX: 6:30. Crossing of 3D&14A was a bitch. WedNYTX: 7:30. WedLATX: 5:30.