7:51 p.m. - January 21, 2003
Good thing, too. I was overly excited. I've breathed since.
Out of the blue a woman who coordinates poetry readings at one of my favorite bookstores called in a cheery British accent, asking me to read my poetry. I was confused for a moment until she explained that she's been working on an anthology project with one of my professors at ye olde alma mater and my name came up, as did where I live. If I think about it I'll be pissed at Doctor X because she knows how private my poetry and writing name are but I'm not going to think about that right now. I'm tickled. Only a few former professors, my current advisor, and my siblings know my writing name; maybe Bathsheba, but she's never said anything.
February 16, Berkeley, California.
And I said yes. I said yes!