Ah-HA!

My horo-koan:

SCORPIO (Oct. 23-Nov. 21): [Editor's note: To prepare this horoscope, I stole some of the lyrics from Yoko Ono's song "Revelations" and added some words of my own.] Bless you for your anger, Scorpio. It's a sign of zeal. If you transform it into creative fire, it will transmute your relationship with any situation you're angry about. Bless you for your greed. It's a sign of great capacity. Honor the law of karma by giving as much as you want to get, and your greed will drive you to grow generous. Bless you for your jealousy. It's a sign of immature empathy. Ripen it into admiration and what you admire will become an inspiring part of your life.

OH I LOVE The Paradox. Always trust a paradox. But, it's funny because things are humming just now. It would seem that where I am angry (The Jena Six situation), or greedy (to publish/to edit), or jealous (of blithe self-interest and the positions of power in which it manifests), I am not, in fact, a danger to the world just now. BUT, this is good advice no matter who you are. And, maybe a head's up that something's a brew.

Also, turning down the art people was v. smart. The adjuncting gig at Wildwood is going to work out very well indeed. Three classes, two preps, precious little grading due to curricula and non-intensive regular semester schedule, two commutes, AND all this is a totally geeked out classroom, in a totally and sincerely green building that it's a pleasure to walk into and be in, AND three classes is a bucket more money so now I can actually afford all the conferences/other travel/monster commutes to work coming up this autumn of which there is quite a lot thank you. I'm actually all excited about teaching again. Which, who'da thought That after the squirrel cage that was my last gig. WHEW! Thanks Cosmos for listening. My diabolical plan is working, with your help.

And, HA, I don't work with the crazy art people. La, la, la -- La-la.

The Murdoch anthology is super! We're set for essays, we're moving into serious editing. I'm writing the proposal. I'm getting lots of other young scholars published in this thing and feel I'm doing the world a service. Which is getting me over my irkedness-at-self for leaving my essay On A Plane! and having to start over in my revisions.

Plus, I'm almost sure I'm having the idea needed to for the Challenging Cultures of Death conference in, oh poor me, Dublin, on my birthday to which Lioness and I will travel. I know, thank you, I feel your sympathy. It's a trick, this paper, because it's only ten minutes.... and I'm not what you would call an ascetic writer. So, churn, churn.

The Poetics book too is seeming more like a friend than a chore. Like, I'm sitting my butt down in the 'brary today to order the rest of my research. And off we go.

In the next few days, a package will arrive by post that contains Proust and pants. (heart you lioness)

It's good to be grateful. Grateful, grateful, grateful. Grateful things are opening, grateful I'm open just now.