Just Stuff

You all know the fiasco that was my first chapbook, right? The way the books were crooked and creased, the way the orders weren't getting filled, the exceptionally slow shipping - and eventually, the breach of contract and her (my publisher) refusal to pay me what she owed me for my sales...

Yes well, not that I was feeling lonely or special, not that I thought for one minute that I was the only one Shaela and Meeting of the Minds|Chapbook Division was screwing over, but I got an unexpected email yesterday that happened to be from another person that Shaela screwed over. Then today I got another email that clued me in on another poet that she had published that had a similarly bad experience...

I figure if enough of us got together and did something - I don't know what, but 'something' - we could make a difference you know? Force her to pay us what she owes or at the very least, get the word out there that she's bogus you know? But to be honest, I don't have the time or energy to DO this right now. Besides, anonymity is a valuable commodity on the internet, and I have been asked to keep names and details quiet - promised to keep the confidence(s) of those involved, which means that most likely, they aren't willing to come forward - That pretty much puts the squash on any united public effort to tell our stories, doesn't it?

~*~

In other, only vaguely connected, news - I was solicited for a manuscript today.
A publisher contacted me and invited me to send in a manuscript for a new chapbook. It's flattering, of course, for people to ask you to publish your work for you. Unfortunately, as promising as it sounds, as intriguing and flattering, I'm just a bit hesitant, I mean, after the aforementioned mess of a publication experience that Poetic Acceptance turned out to be, who can blame me? I'm considering it as an option, but hell, I don't even have a "manuscript" right now. All I have is a jumbled mess of poetry here and there - mostly here. And I find that lately I lack the motivation and discipline it takes to collect one and edit it properly, so I'd most likely only manage to publish another mediocre chapbook - and yes, I'm fully aware of the fact that Poetic Acceptance, for all my good intentions and higher purposes, was mediocre at best.

As if my life presently lends itself to readings and events anyway.

~*~
Speaking of my life... (which currently seems to revolve around my breasts, and time -measured in 3 hour increments.)
Terra, being 2 and spoiled inexcusably rotten, believes that in order to make up for time lost to a certain little brother, just has to be beside, behind or on me at any and all times at which I am not preoccupied with said brother. She has started taking advantage of my status as 'captive audience' during my multitude of daily pumping sessions by following me into the bathroom and using this time to read to me, or be read to, or just to monopolize my attention. Hey, whatever works for her is good for me, you know? Unfortunately, this means that my 2 year old has become unusually aware of certain physical characteristics that she is privy to while I'm pumping. In other words, she's sudden;y pre-occupied with breasts, bras, and pumping.

This morning as I dressed her, she caught sight of my bra and absolutely insisted that she had to have a bra on. Obviously, we don't have any size 2T bras in the house, so I talked her into wearing one of Kassi's old training bras that she's since outgrown - the sports bra/halter top type, complete with Angelica from the Rugrats on the front. It's still way too big on her, but she was pacified by it - for a minute anyway... Right up until she decided that, "I need to pump Mama!"

*sigh*

I don't think we'll be going out of the house today, because I can already envision her conversation with the first cute little old lady that smiled in her direction and said hello.

Old Lady: "Hi there darlin' How are you today?"
Terra: My haf a bwa!! (lift shirt here, enlisting the use of visual aids to further drive home the point)
Old Lady:Oh... Well.. How um, nice."
Terra: My gunna PUMP my oobies now! (yes, the creators of the kids' show Oobie will no doubt be upset to know that my 2 year old calls her chest her "oobies")
Old Lady: (Looks at me as if I'm a horrible depraved pervert of a parent and walks away shaking her head.)

Nah,not today. I'll just save all that fun for another day, like maybe the next time we go to the cardiologist's office. Dr. Bensky would no doubt get a kick out of that.

~*~

I've nearly finished "Skinny Legs and All" and I have to tell you -again- I love the way Tom Robbins' mind twists reality, the way it mixes fact and fiction, history and pop culture, religion and (what others would consider) blasphemy and serves them up as some new and amazing dish. But, I have to admit, his seeming addiction to (or better yet, affliction with) alliteration and consonance becomes aggravating at times. Too much of a good thing really can become a bad thing... Luckily for me, the constant little light bulbs of epiphany that flash over my head as I read far outweigh the irritation.