Hello, friends!

Remember that I lead a double life? By day, I am but a bookish writer and editor with a penchant for awkwardness. But strap a pair of roller skates on me, and I become Harlot Brontë, a kick-ass member of the Vaudeville Vixens, your favorite local roller derby team (part of the Mad Rollin' Dolls, your favorite local roller derby league).

And we have our season opener bout THIS SATURDAY, January 10 ... at the Coliseum!

Yeah, that's right, we're changing venues! And it's so exciting that I'm using exclamation marks!

You'll be able to sit in a real seat (with armrests, no less)!
You'll have an unobstructed view!
There will be parking!
There will be beer (for those of age)!
There will be cheering!
There will be wins! Losses! Excitement! Feats of athleticism heretofore unseen by human eyes!

Seriously, though, it would really mean a lot to me if you would come see me play. Roller derby is an important part of my life, and I'd like to share it.

So if you can, come on out to the Coliseum at the Alliant Energy Center this Saturday. Doors open at 5:30, and the action starts at 6. Tickets are $10 in advance, $12 at the door, and you can purchase them here.

And remember to wear your pink and brown.

(Also, for those of you who are used to the Fast Forward derby, please note that Alliant charges a $5 parking fee. So minimize your damned carbon footprint and carpool.)

http://www.thedailypage.com/daily/article.php?article=23959

Also:

http://www.derbyindairyland.com

Get your tickets now, or we're no longer friends.

(I kid, of course; we'll still be friends. I'll just think less of you.)

Bidding a fond farewell to the man who first got me published. I was just a punk kid of twenty-one, slinging coffee and trying to finish college; he believed in me and my work, took a chance, and got me published. And he continued to do so for four more years. Without a doubt, he was a most guiding force, helping shape the writer I am today.

His work as a writer and editor will be sorely missed.

Thank you, Marc.

http://www.madison.com/wsj/home/column/moe/302242

I'll have you know, that according to this guy, the #1 song on April 6, 1983 -- the day I was born -- was none other than "Billie Jean" by Michael Jackson.

That, my friends, is fly.

Ok, so I'm not going to Germany. At least not as soon as October, anyway. There are some other possibilities hovering about, however, and there's still a good chance we'll eventually go. In any case, what this recent brush with imminent travel has taught me is that I'm now, finally, wholly prepared to leave Madison. It will be sad, but I'm ready. And even if Germany doesn't happen, I will leave, almost certainly in the fall of 2009, to get my MFA. 

I've compiled my final list of potential grad schools, and now the application process begins. My top choices are 1.) The University of London - Goldsmiths (which I visited last fall, and it was lovely), and 2.) Sarah Lawrence (whose silly tuition is worth more than a blue-eyed baby on the black market). There are a bevy of other candidates, of course (namely, Iowa -- which, sadly and somewhat ironically, has the best program in the country), but I think my heart lies with these top two. Setting myself up for utter failure and heartbreak, I'm sure. So we'll see how that goes. 

In other news: 

1.) I've been writing with a certain ferocity lately, and it's going rather well. I'm submitting a story to a literary journal next week; should it be accepted, this would be my first national publication. Again, rife with hope, entirely prepared for failure and heartbreak. 

2.) I'm drinking espresso for the first time in months today, and I think I can see through time. 

3.) We have a bout next weekend. You should come. 

go check out the Isthmus today. pretty please?

Well, I've finally crumbled under the pressure. Mostly, though, this new venture is just an excuse to lurk online and read about your lives, rather than tell you about my own. This may seem counter-intuitive since I call myself a "writer," but the brutal truth is this: I am a surreptitious voyeur by nature and rarely share myself with others. (I suppose I'll have to eventually get beyond that if I ever really want that whole "writer" thing to work.)

However, as I am a firm believer of giving what you take, I promise you, my precious and few online friends, that I will try my best to be a diligent journaler.

And maybe -- just maybe -- I'll get brave and post some of my old, angst-ridden poetry just for kicks. But only if you ask really nicely. And maybe give us a kiss.