Domain, demesne, down but not out.

Happy Birthday, Patti.

Note: Celia the Poet is down for the moment but should be up again very soon.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE ME

1) weapons
2) crowds
3) ignorance

THREE THINGS I DON'T UNDERSTAND

1) math
2) the 40 hour work week
3) shutter speeds

THREE THINGS I'D LIKE TO LEARN

1) how to play guitar
2) sound engineering
3) Italian

THREE THINGS I AM WEARING RIGHT NOW

1) purple turrtleneck
2) glasses
3) old jeans Jae gave me

THREE THINGS ON MY DESK

1) Nietzsche's calendar
2) City Honors coffee mug
3) blue seven-day candle

THREE THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE

1) own a house
2) publish a (real) book of poems
3) end corporate control of our culture

THREE WAYS TO DESCRIBE MY PERSONALITY

1) serious
2) kind
3) creative

THREE BAD THINGS ABOUT MY PERSONALITY

1) Can be judgemental
2) sometimes too introverted
3) Stubborn

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE

1) Alsatian
2) British
3) Polish

THREE THINGS I LIKE ABOUT MY BODY

1) long fingers
2) my hair
3) the pleasure it brings

THREE THINGS I DON'T LIKE ABOUT MY BODY

1) fragile in some ways
2) my crooked eyebrow
3) limitations

THREE THINGS MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU

1) I have a Masters Degree
2) I've written several (unpublished) novels
3) I'm secretly 42, and have been since age 12

THREE THINGS I SAY THE MOST

1) There you have it.
2) And then some.
3) Could I have another?

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO

1) Italy
2) Hawaii
3) Mayan Ruins

THREE NAMES THAT YOU GO BY

1) Celia
2) Ceece
3) Poet

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE OR HAD

1) celiapoet
2) RedWitch
3) comfortgarden

Singing My Head Off At High Speeds

I got the urge for going and headed to Boston for most of the past week. I attended a conference, dined & drank with my former neighbor, Peter, and watched some of Angels in America on HBO in my hotel room.

Maybe best, I drove at high speeds, singing my head off by myself in the car. Nice as this was, I realized I've been travelling by myself most of my adult life & it would be nice sometimes to have a companion. I got a little (okay, a lot) sentimental driving past the Pioneer Valley, where I attended college. The blue snow, the pine forest, the too much wine.

Glad, tho, to be home with hysterically happy dog, no snow at all, homemade pesto primavera. Great dreams in which the bookstore became not only theatre but gallery and studio space. Kristi was making something with canvas & slabs of wax, and there was a bed in the corner where one could lie down between bouts of art. Yes, that is life in Buffalo, for me.

Singing quietly but very much in tune, ambling the frosty streets.