MishMash

It wouldn't be a generalization if I stated all libraries have at least 3 crack-pots employed in their establishments. Today, after much delay, I went to sign up for my Berkeley city library card. The young woman at the information desk pointed me to the check out desk where a man resembling Rip Taylor if he were a truck driver was busy fiddling with a computer. After clearing my throat I waited until he decided to abandon his important library science tasks and assist me. When he finally did he ignored when I clearly stated I needed a library card and asked me to annunciate. Fortunately for me, speech challenged that I am, the rest of the process was done on paper and through the computer.

I left the library satisfied that my yen for reading has returned. After I finish Me Talk Pretty One Day I will either begin Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil or The Brooklyn Follies. This return to reading combined with my writing class has spurred a desire to go to grad school and pursue an MFA in Creative Writing, my concentration being non-fiction. I've looked at a few schools and the requirements are a bit daunting. 10 pages of poetry, 20 pages of fiction and of nonfiction, and 30 pages of a children's book! I love to write, but thinking about creating all those pages makes me apprehensive!

Despite the recent upswing of my mood, I've been having some rough patches, today being one of them. And it's weird how just some random man at the library knew that I was incredibly hurt today. Though he looked like a member of Hell's Angels, he was rather sweet and told me to "Smile Big" because it would make me look beautiful. Someday I want to be beautiful.