So, the chapter of Colum McCann’s wonderful novel, “Dancer”, that I am currently reading is written as a series of journal entries by that chapter’s narrator (I love the breadth of narrators that the book has), and it reminded me that I haven’t blogged in a shamefully long time. My mind has been on school applications, revisions, and moving, among other more trivial things.

The good news: I got an acceptance email from Chatham on Jan. 24. It’s a nice little boost to the confidence for the rest of the decision season. The caveat is that I don’t know about funding/teaching positions yet. Those decisions are coming soon, according to the email. I don’t know if I can swing it without funding. So, it seems a bit premature for proper celebrating, but it did send a rush of excitement coursing through my body (stifled screams in my soon-to-be-abandoned bedroom). It’s still early, of course. Many schools don’t notify until March. But now I’m even more eager for the whole thing to get rolling. I’ve regressed to checking the MFA Facebook group compulsively.

Finding a new apartment was a bit of an ordeal. It’s quite a challenge, in this town, to find something in my price range that isn’t dreadfully far flung. I was pissed at Matt for giving me notice (it seems he’s exhausted with my supposedly substandard cleanliness) because the timing is bad. And I worry about not receiving important mail from schools upon taking on a new address in the middle of applying. However, things have soured, and I have been wanting to get out of the complex for awhile. I’m glad to be moving into a house – a bit less of a suburban feel, though the smallness of the bedroom is going to be a challenge (where to put all my clothes and media). Well, I’m also glad I found a place on the East side, though it is a re-entry into gentrifying terrain.

Finishing up my Boston SOP, then once that app is done it will just be waiting. Thankfully, I have started a new story. It’s quite different for me in that the narrator is a barely pubescent boy. The idea came to me upon waking one morning two weeks ago, after a bad bout of insomnia.

I managed two Indian buffets this week. Looks like I’m getting stood up for the third tonight. I should eat up what’s in my cabinets anyway.

“Desire is not there to be fulfilled. Desire is there to execute, to operate. It’s a formidable tool.” I find this Charlotte Rampling quote from the doc about her true and profound. We are to be driven by what we desire.