Wednesday, April 29, 1998

I'm sitting in Mary Anne's backyard, typing away at a story for an anthology for which the deadline is tomorrow. She's letting me borrow her laptop for the afternoon it seems; we spent the afternoon in a very sweet little coffee shop nearby; she commented on papers while I typed away.


Just now I watched a squirrel run up a limb and out to a swinging branch, before it jumped down on top of the gazebo. It leapt from there to another branch, one of those thin ones that actually support just the leaves, and scurried up to the main part of the trees. It was deft and quick, its tail flicking both to keep its balance and to punctuate its pauses.
It made me think of a time back in college when I was still in a sorority (yes, a little evil secret from my past for you there). Ruth was having the pledges do this little exercise, and I did it with them, as I was music leader or some such thing where I was partially responsible for the education of the pledge class. It was a story, where you're walking through the woods and you come upon a building of some sort, an animal of some sort etc. You picked the building, the animal and other things to fill in your part of the story. Then we went back through and Ruth told us what each of these things symbolized. I only remember the animal, because it caused me some disappointment at the time. I usually choose a cat, when asked for my favorite animal, and I almost did during this exercise too. But I wanted to be more creative and original, so I picked a squirrel, a "true Franklin College squirrel" because we had tons of them on our campus (they occasionally barked at students). The animal represented how we viewed ourselves. I was upset because it was chic to hate our school (there was a lot to be disgruntled about, but it may also have been the age I was -- anything that was established must naturally be bad).
So when I saw that squirrel just now, so freely climbing up where it looks impossible to go, I was reminded of how dismal I thought squirrel symbols were. And how free he seems right now.
I'd like to focus on this, make it mine. Let me think, what have I done recently that seemed impossible to do? Moved out here, for one thing. Published a story? There are a lot of things I am doing or am involved with out here that I never thought or even imagined I'd be doing. For example, I went to a Bardic circle at Greyhaven with Mary Anne last month. I've gone to readings before, but never one so *good*. The authors there were not only fabulous story tellers, but they were entertaining as well. And encouraging.


That's one thing I'm truly thankful for out here: the encouragement I get on my writing. Mary Anne (not to gush all over her too much, but I'm afraid it's inevitable, seeing how cool she is) has almost taken me under her wing. Ok, I *feel* taken in by her (in more ways than one). She's a role model; she is a semi-professional writer with her own following, yet she's taken a lot of time and energy to encourage me in my efforts. Sometimes I feel guilty on how little I've followed up on her advice and help, yet I still eagerly accept all that she offers me. She also has helped take me in, and it was mostly through her that I have my circle of friends out here; she called me and dragged me off to parties to make sure I wouldn't "disappear" after Ian broke up with me. I admire her social skills, how she balances a huge group of friends and how she throws magnificent parties every two months. She's put herself through grad school, manages all sorts of things like writing workshops, editing her book, writing freelance material, contacting publishers. Networking falls short of describing everything she can accomplish by simply knowing people.
Ach. I gush, I gush. Here I was trying to list everything I've done, and I list everything I admire about Mary Anne. I suppose that's what friends are for: accessible role models.




Had a good women's chat with Dawn and Mary Anne this afternoon. It made me realize how many of my friends out here are men, and how much I miss the support of my solid female friends back in Indiana. Shel, Kellie, Holly . . . *sigh* I should make an effort to hang out with women more often out here. Women just seem harder to meet, for some reason.




Tomorrow night Mary Anne and I are going to hear Ursula K. LeGuin speak in Berkeley. I'm very excited; I believe this only compares to when a group of us went to see Tom Wolfe speak in Bloomington Indiana a few years back. This should be better, though, since it's in a bookstore and might be more intimate. I've only read one of her books so far, but I was terribly impressed. I love living in this area

What else? I'm rambling in my journal now. Talked to David tonight for a nice long time. He's got a lot on his mind for being on vacation! I'm sure it will calm down when he actually gets to the Caribbean (he's still in New York); unfortunately, he won't be reachable for even a phone chat down there - ack! withdrawal! *sigh* I just miss him; I'm sure I'll live, I know.

Ok, ok, goodnight now. Sweet dreams darlings.