There's just something about Ballantine...
So for all my cussing and spitting about not being able to write, while in E-linguistics this morning, I was flipping through my writing notebook, and ran across a little partial stanza I'd written sometime over Christmas break, so far as I can remember.

Every night I lay
the lines
striving for nothing
except perfection.

And, okay, granted, those seconds two lines are nothing special, but the first two really galvanized me, and I have a poem now, one that compares poets to cocaine addicts. Incidently, having never done cocaine myself, I don't know how accurate my simile actually is, so feel free to leave me a comment about your experiences with this mystical drug. But regarding my tagline...I realized that so far this semester I had spent no time in Ballantine computer lab number one seventeen, so after I read that little bit of poemthought, I headed immediately for my favored lab, and my muses were looking out for me today, gave me a good computer. I sat down and hammered this poem out. It just felt...right. Regardless of whether or not the thing is good right now, it will be before tomorrow, and I feel really good about it. 'course, there is the teensie problem of it having two endings...ah well. My midnight workshop buddy shall sort that mess out for me, I think. He's nice like that. Mike commented the other day that it seems like my workshop is the only class I talk about, and he's right. It's my favorite class and it's really the only one that applies to what I want to be when I grow up...if I grow up. Which I don't plan on doing for a long long time. But I need a shower. I'm a smelly kelley. Hehe. I crack me up. C'mon. I know you laughed...or at least rolled your eyes.