Sorry for my lack of posts – I had a surprise visit from my little brother and his wife (and he’s coming back next weekend, after his LA-based training) and I’ve been spending a lot of time in doctor’s offices. Plus I’m wrapping up my class at National U for the quarter.
It seems my (auto)immune system is on the fritz again. I went to a very smart UCSD doctor yesterday who was recommended by my Seattle hematologist who called the head of medicine at UCSD for me (thank you Dr. G! You are so getting a fruit basket!) and I was very impressed with her. Not only was she intuitive to the point of being psychic, she asked good questions and was actually interested in my records (which I usually shuffle in with, embarrassed, since I’ve had sooo many tests and screenings over the years that might or might not be helpful for a new doctor I feel like a bit of a freak.) So I feel like I am in good hands in my new city.
Also, if you’re someone who may or may not have lupus, you might want to avoid a lot of sunlight. Such as that found in Southern California.
Note to self: Southern California: good for Reynaud’s syndrome and asthma. Bad for lupus-like autoimmune problems.
Also for my notes on SoCal:
Good: lack of rain.
Bad: plenty of fire.
I also had time to sneak out to a reading and dinner with K. Lorraine Graham who invited me to a very interesting feminist/experimental fiction reading. (One of the readers was Seattle-ite Laynie Brown, a prose poet who also apparently dabbles in prose prose.) What was expecially interesting was how the “experimental” methods in fiction – split and layered narratives, for instance, something Old TS Eliot was doing years ago – seem hardly “experimental” at all – even old-fashioned – in poetry. I’m not up with the usual “experimental fiction” suspects, but if any of you all out there know more about this, I’d be interested in more of a discussion…
Well, since I can’t tell you my good news yet (I’ll give you a hint – it has to do with a “g” word rather than a “b” word) I’ll give you a funny anecdote instead…
Yesterday, I went to my doctor and then to get my hair cut (sounds like a weird combination, but they are right next door to each other, and since I had to get some more tests done for my weird fever situation, I thought I might get my hair done as well.) The first thing I thought, after talking with a new doc at the office and then to a new hairdresser, is that if doctors listened as well as hairdressers, we would all be in better health. (No offense, Peter or C. Dale. I’m sure you are both great listeners 😉
My new hairstylist had recently visited Chile with friends, one of whom offered to take her on a tour of Pablo Neruda’s homes. We talked about how important poetry was to the culture there. Then she said, “ARE there any American poets?” And I said, “Yes, but they’re all in hiding at universities.”
This conversation led me to think that maybe all those studies showing people just aren’t aware of contemporary poetry are right on. Perhaps poets should join an American Idol tour or something. Or we should create a show called “So You Think You Can Write…” My dream judging panel would be Louise Gluck or Margaret Atwood (for the strict one) Denise Duhamel (the bubbly one) and maybe Bob Hicok (the one who has the feel-good factor but says things that make very little sense.)
Would you watch that show?
Leaving tomorrow for Portland again, be back Monday…
