A chilly fall day

Seems like overnight it became time to take all the tank tops from the closet and pull out stacks of sweaters I'd forgotten all about. And, curse it all, what I thought were allergies yesterday have blown into a full-on cold today, complete with stuffy head and aches. Still, there's a unique and specific pleasure to bundling up, pulling a blanket over you and watching movies on the laptop. Chris is off sleuthing on the west coast, so I'm not receiving the adequate amount of pity minor colds require. But at least the cats seem relatively attentive. Last night, I made a big pot of soup with leeks and carrots I got at the Farmer's Market and I've already run all my errands for the day, so there's nowhere I need to be.

There are worse ways to spend a day.

The author on Mango street

I think it was my senior year in college, when I was trying hard to be a Fiction Writer and was desperate for women who were writing the way the voices in my head sounded, that I first stumbled upon Sandra Cisneros' The House on Mango Street. I was smitten. Spare, simple language, the rythmn of the life of the title street reflected in the rythmn of the words. She became and remained one of a group of women who changed the way I wrote and the way I thought about writing, along with Lorrie Moore, Amy Hempel, Jane Ann Phillips and Mona Simpson. I'm thrilled to note she's on the UM campus this week. Tomorrow night, she gives the Hispanic Heritage Keynote Speech (entitled "Why I'm not Hispanic") at the Rackham auditorium at 7:30 pm. She's also featured in a mid-day talk on Friday, in her PJs no less. Unfortunately, I've another commitment so I can't catch the Friday one, which takes place from 11 - 1 in Angell Hall. The intriguing description is below:

Dressed in their pajamas, author, Sandra Cisneros and U-M Professor of Anthropology and Women's Studies, Ruth Behar will have a public conversation. They will discuss a range of topics, including writing, books, and being Latinas, topics which they have been talking about for over a decade. A continental breakfast will be served.

St. Louis again

I can't stay away. I'm back in St. Louis for the weekend, this time for a performance of St. Louis' top-rated non-broadcast live talk show, Free Candy. Somehow we've once again used our wiles to wrangle up an impressive and fun guest line up. Amanda made some sort of deal with the devil to get us a few minutes with the much-ballyhooed and world-reknown conductor David Robertson who recently signed on to be the musical director of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra until 2010. Very fancy! He must have us confused with, like, Letterman or something. It happens all the time. Just don't tell him, okay? We're also going to have Charles Henderson on from the St. Louis Scottish Games . If you're not from around here, you may not know what a big ol' deal this event is each year. But people will be coming from all over to toss cabers and do the highland fling next weekend, mark my words. And I'm excited to hear singer-songwriter Jesse Irwin. Amanda's been talking up his combo of clever lyrics and folky music, especially on his song "Ladeusiers." It'll mean nothing to those outside the St. Louis area, but those familiar with the hoity-toity nabe of Ladue will appreciate such poignant turns of phrase as:

You're rich and you're bright and you're pasty and white You've got what it takes to suceed You like cheeses and wine, and you're real good at buyin' Lots of shit that you don't really need And you live in a house for a family of ten But you've got a family of two You're a Laduesier, Laduesier - a hoosier that lives in Ladue

Actually, I'm excited about all aspects of this show. I was here a couple of months ago for a show, in the midst of all our moving madness, and didn't really feel like I brought it. (Brung it?) Now, life's a little less crazy and I'm able to focus a little on it and hopefully not force Amanda to carry the whole show while I gaze out at the audience comatose. Not that she doesn't do it beautifully, because she does.

So if you're in St. Louis, come by Hartford Coffee Company at Hartford & Roger in the Tower Grove South neighborhood. Tomorrow night, 7 pm start -- which means get there by 6:15 or so to grab a seat. Free candy, free entertainment. Excellent.

Enough plugging of all that. It's been another fast weekend here, running around trying to see as many beloved friends as possible in too short a timeframe. Then it's back to Ann Arbor Monday morning. And at some point in there I've got some serious homework to do for my screenwriting class.

I'm actually suffering from a bit of a crisis of confidence in that arena. I met with my study group last week and am now afraid that perhaps people in their early 20s with no life experience don't "get" my writing. Well, it's either that or my work sucks as badly as they said it does and it seems far, far easier to blame them.... Oh, the life of a college student is so, so hard!

Fall has arrived

I don't know if it's here to stay, but the fact that today's high isn't supposed to exceed 60 degrees certainly suggests that we're actually going to have an autumn this year. True, I've been looking forward to this, my favorite season, when we get to bundle up in sweaters and layers and take long walks shuffling our feet through piles of fallen leaves. But I'm not sure I'm quite emotionally prepared for the actual End of Summer as it will mean some really serious focus on my writing goals, especially my MFA application. It's been yet another whirlwind week in the life of crazy-travelin' Jules. Last week's big excitement was starting the advanced screenwriting class I'm taking. It's going to be a lot of work and a lot of homework but I think it's going to be a terrific education in rewriting and give me a greater insight into this strange and difficult craft. I'm learning a lot, even if I feel like I'm practically ancient in a sea full of lethargic 20-year-olds.

Chris and I zipped off last Thursday to Louisville for my brother Jonathan's wedding. Chris stayed through the rehearsal dinner Friday night but had to jet off pre-ceremony on Saturday morning to return to Ann Arbor, where he was scheduled to speak on a panel about post-fellowship careers. It was one of many events during the Knight-Wallace Fellowship reunion weekend, most of which I missed.

I got up at an ungodly hour on Sunday to make it back to Ann Arbor in time for the KWF BBQ and then to host a small gathering of the class of 2006 on our deck afterwards. Lovely time catching up with fellows from in town and out, including Fara Warner (with new beau Paul in tow), John Bacon (with the lovely Whitney), the entire Butters clan, Lisa & Chuck in from NYC, Rainey & Graham in from Boston and Thomas Kamilindi. Good times!

Now I'm scrambling to update this blog, get some homework reading done and head off to Pioneer High School this afternoon to help local scribe Deb Merion with her college essay writing workshop (an 826 Michigan gig). Then it's back home for a jump start on the week's homework since I'll be out of town next weekend again for a rockin' Free Candy. Very much looking forward to it, although I'll take a weekend at home after that, if you don't mind.

Not dead. Or trapped under something heavy.

Just busy...and woefully inattentive to my blog. Which probably disappoints all three of my readers. Sigh. It's been a whirlwind week of going hither and yon, it seems and that'll probably continue for the rest of the month. I jetted off to St. Louis this weekend for a 48-hour shot-in-the-arm of the people I love and an unsuccessful attempt to get a renter for our house there. I really had an outstanding time, being made a fuss over by wonderful folk and catching up with friends. I love Ann Arbor, but you St. Louis people are my backbone.

I traveled back to Ann Arbor yesterday, which just happened to be September 11. That meant I was standing in the "B" boarding group line at the Southwest terminal in St. Louis when we were bid, by a pre-recorded message from the department of Homeland Security, to observe a moment of silence at 9:46 (8:46 St. Louis time) - the moment the first plane hit the World Trade Center. It was a strange thing indeed to hear a terminal fall silent or, actually, almost silent as some people don't seem to be able to stop talking for an entire minute for any reason. But did it feel meaningful or important? Hard to say. I certainly didn't feel any spirit of camaraderie with my fellow boarding passengers.

What did strike me, however, was how I felt boarding the plane yesterday morning - normal and insignificant. And I think about how those people simply had no idea, how normal their lives must have been, the places their minds were wandering before everything changed in a matter of minutes.

Unlike those people, I got off the plane when it landed in Detroit and just went on with my life. You know, otherwise the terrorists win. Speaking of which, I can't express how annoyed I am at this whole ridiculous level of extra "security" created by insisting we all pack our toothpaste and lip gloss.

I'm stunned at the level to which this government is willing to stoop to manufacture fear, completely ignoring the fact that this last round of "liquid bombers" had nothing more than an idea in place when found. They had no solid method, no materials. Does the TSA think that while these guys couldn't work out how to disguise shampoo as an explosive *I* have? I appreciate the credit but a quick chat with my high school Chemistry teacher would clear that up right away.

Regardless, I made it home safe and sound, just in time to spend the rest of the day obsession over my screenplay before starting Advanced Screenwriting last night. It's essentially a rewrite class, where we'll be taking the feature-length script we wrote previously and, in all likelihood, tearing it apart and reconstructing it. I had to swallow hard at the amount of work and reading it's going to entail, especially while I'm planning to teach two workshops this fall at 826 Michigan and get my application together for the MFA program.

Still, the odd thing is that, upon revisiting it after a summer away from it, it turns out I actually like my screenplay. And I don't often feel truly confident about much of the writing I produce. But considering this was the most challenging, most different type of writing I'd ever done, I like the idea of pushing myself further, just to see what I can deliver. Unlike most of my young (so young!) and eager classmates, I don't harbor fantasies of jetting off to LA and seeing my name on the big screen. I'm just curious about what I'm capable of in this vein.

Anyway, speaking of homework, I'm off to pick up the text books and scripts that are required reading for the course and get as much reading done before we leave town again on Thursday for my brother's wedding in Louisville. And, yes, I'll check my shampoo then, too. Just to keep America safe.

Pics from PR

In case you were dying to know a little bit more about our travels last weekend... A few street shots of Old San Juan. Why don't we paint all our buildings such beautiful colors?

La Cementeria de San Juan sits right by 16th Century fort El Morro, with a view of the Atlantic.

One of El Morro's ancient turrets keeping guard over a tranquil, grey ocean.

Many of the houses have decorative tiles on them. This one, apparently, is where they keep the grandpas.

And only French speakers will understand that this is where they keep the crazy dogs.

Happy Labor-Free Day

I'm typing this from our deck, where I've been sitting in my bright orange adirondack chair, sipping coffee and knitting. It's a gorgeous Monday, which feels like Sunday, as these holidays often do. In the shade it's just cool enough to warrant a light sweatshirt. This feels like heaven. It has been, in fact, a fabulous weekend all around. Although we had a little difficulty readjusting to reality after returning from the rainforest early last week, it seems we brought home with us a lesson or two about really unplugging.

On Saturday, I turned ten. That is, I celebrated ten years of sobriety. In a row! And my husband, to mark the occasion, spent the day spoiling me to death, starting with breakfast in bed. He delivered to me a tray with a warm come-undone bun from Zingerman's, a ridiculous concoction of a sourdough boule studded throughout with big chunks of dark chocolate and a piping hot latte. Plus, one perfect sunflower and one perfect stargazer lily laid on the tray to perfect effect. (The remainder of each bunch was in the kitchen and would later appear in the living room arranged in vases.) In the afternoon, we had lunch at Zingerman's (seriously, they're not sponsoring this entry!) and it was a perfect day for people watching. It wasn't overcrowded, thank goodness, since it was the Wolverines' first game but still reflective of the swollen population now that school's back in session.

We capped that off with a brief meander through the Saturday farmer's market, still packed at 1 in the afternoon and strolling in and out of the Kerrytown shops. Then I was dropped off at the Relax Station for a 75-minute massage. Too decadent! (Best of all, the therapist was really good at myofascial release which, as you may know, is not entirely pleasant but very helpful to those of us in pain.)

That evening, Chris had made reservations at Eve in Kerrytown. I have to say it was sublime. Everything about the place and was perfect, from the cozy atmosphere to the service to the food itself. Really a lovely treat and well worth splurging on if you're in town.

As if that wasn't enough -- as if any of that wasn't enough -- when we got home, Chris showered me with gifts. How many women can claim a husband who buys them great shoes? All you have to do is witness my green suede Merrell moccasins and you know I'm one of them. My packages also included a gorgeous Motawi tile. I've been aching for one for ages and now have kick-started my collection.

I didn't need all the fuss and adulation. The milestone is, after all, its own reward. But, damn if I didn't enjoy every minute of it. And, yes, I do know how lucky I am.

We've since spent the rest of the weekend hanging out, doing the errands that people do. Yesterday, we hit Target and we decided to tackle our joined problem with wrinkedyness by investing in one of those clothes steamers. I cannot express how much fun I had yesterday afternoon, steaming the hell out of everything within reach, like an unfilmed infomercial. Few things bring me so much pleasure as a great gadget. What a sucker I am!

Today, Chris is off running more errands of his own. And I am, as I said, sitting quietly on our deck, trying to pretend the noise of the traffic on West Huron is the rush of wind through the leaves of palm trees in the rainforest. (It's not working very well.) But that's okay. We have a nice yellow house, a pine tree in our front yard a zillion miles tall and squirrels getting a little too saucy in the trees. That seems every bit as good.