3:38 AM:

I shall return to the trip narrative -- trust me on this one -- but let's take a short break for a couple of Friday Fives. First this week's:

1. What is your most prized material possession?
   Would saying "my hard drive" be missing the point of "material possession"? 'Cause it's not the drive per se that I care about, it's the data on it. But what the heck, that's still my answer.
2. What item, that you currently own, have you had the longest?
   While I'm not absolutely sure of this, it's probably a cassette tape buried in my collection, one that starts with a mix of songs recorded off the radio back in 1981. The casing's been replaced, but the tape inside goes back a couple of decades now.
3. Are you a packrat?
   Is the Pope Polish? Did Beethoven play a forerunner of the piano? Umm, in a word, yes.
4. Do you prefer a spic-and-span clean house? Or is some clutter necessary to avoid the appearance of a museum?
   No, but I'm not sure I'd go quite that far. I admire and marvel at people who manage to live in clean, clutter-free apartments. I honestly don't know how they manage it, and could never ever live that way myself, but more power to them.
5. Do the rooms in your house have a theme? Or is it a mixture of knick-knacks here and there?
   The theme is "clutter." Otherwise... the basic atmosphere of the place has been established as far back as my room in the family home in Far Rockaway. It just keeps expanding to fill the available space.

1. Explain why you started to journal/blog.
   I explained this back when I started, and while I should, perhaps, update that page sometime, it pretty much suffices to answer this question. I wanted to practice writing, I wanted to keep a diary that would last more than a few months, I wanted to work through some issues, I wanted to communicate with people, and I wanted to be part of a dialogue of journallers. Ya know something? I haven't done that badly. It's been worth it.
2. Do people you interact with day to day or family members know about your journal/blog? Why or why not?
   This has been shifting somewhat, of late. A couple of family members know the journal exists, but they have not checked it out. (Conversely, one of my family members has a journal of their own. I have not checked it out.) Otherwise... I've been giving the URL wider distribution lately. My cohort at the U of M got it during the Third Term Review saga; the students in one of my discussion sections got it at the end of the semester. I don't have the impression that either group has been bothering to read the thing, but you never know. On the other hand, I've been much more reticent about giving the address to people from the Old Neighborhood, which is to say my Orthodox Jewish friends from Far Rockaway. I've been wrestling with this of late; it would be nice to be more open about my life. On the other hand, I'm still afraid of the consequences. We'll see, I suppose.
3. Do you have a theme for your journal/blog?
   Not really. I wish I had more entries of actual substance, rather than ramblings about my day, but it's never had much of a focus, apart from myself.
4. What direction would you like to have your journal/blog go in over the next year?
   Again, more substance would be nice, but I'm not holding my breath. Also, as alluded to in the last entry, I'm planning on keeping a running list of the books I read throughout the year -- I've been keeping track since the start of my trip, in January, for this purpose -- but haven't yet decided just how to format the thing.
5. Pimp five of your favorite journals/blogs.
   Just five?! I have link lists for this purpose, you know. But okay... I'm going to leave out my sister and those who launched me, and instead hype some lesser-known or recently-returned journals... Lorem Ipsum, by Jed (comrade in copyediting); Nobody Knows Anything, by Diane (back after a long hiatus); demi-geek by Trish (the latest incarnation in a long series of journals); Truth and Bone by Nicky (onetime collaborator); and the latest addition to my list, Ann Arbor Sucks (limited target audience, sure, but it's making me happy).

6:40 PM:

Okay... it having been established by this point that I'm not getting any writing done in my apartment, I'm typing this from the University of Michigan computer lab, which I still have access to for the next couple of months. Home sweet home. [In fact, I got about two-thirds of the way through in the first session, then went home, then returned to the lab and finished this late Thursday night.]

So... when the narrative left off last week, I'd just gotten up to the night of Friday, January 31st. To make a long story short, I submitted the application to Emerson's MFA program in Writing at about 11:30 PM, a half-hour before the midnight deadline, and submitted the application to their MA program in Publishing and Writing at 11:56 PM, through the simple -- if depressing -- expedient of ripping out everything in the MFA application that didn't apply to the MA. I then found out a few days ago that I couldn't apply to both programs, and chose to stick with the MFA.

At about 11:30 PM Central time, I submitted the application to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago, but it turned out that their server was on Eastern time, and it wouldn't let the application go through. I e-mailed them immediately; they still have yet to reply. I just got a new ink cartridge for my printer, and plan to send them a hardcopy application with an explanation shortly. If they take it, fine; if not, whatever. They were my safety school, and it's too freakin' cold in Chicago anyway. [Later update: I've now installed the cartridge, but, screw it, it's three weeks late by this point, and, besides, I've been given reason to doubt that there's any decent kosher pizza in Chicago. Either one of the other two will take me, or they won't, but I'm not going to waste any more time applying to a place that can't bother to answer their e-mail.]

Sunday, February 2nd, I went to visit my brother in Waterbury, CT, which was nice enough, and also made plans for the following two days in Boston. Astoundingly enough, despite being thrown together at the last possible moment, said plans actually worked.

I arrived in Boston on Monday afternoon, and met Selila as soon as I managed to find her. Which was about an hour later than it should have been; I have an unerring ability to screw up any set of directions, and, in this case, successfully confused Cleveland Circle with Coolidge Corner. But eventually we met, and schmoozed over lunch, and it was good.

From there, I stopped by Emerson College, arriving -- completely by accident -- at the building with the Publishing and Writing program (their buildings are scattered all over the place). I said hello to the nice person in the lobby and then realized that I had nothing more to say, so I left, after getting directions to the building that handled applications (perhaps ten blocks away), at which I had to drop something off. Which I did.

This was followed by a short trip at the FAO Schwartz across the street; it was going out of business, and I emerged empty-handed, in part because I had no room for more stuff. In fact, I began running out of steam about the time I left; my overstuffed backpack was cutting into my shoulders pretty badly by that point. Plus I needed to go to the bathroom, but didn't know where to find one.

But I eventually made my way back to the Green Line and showed up on time for my rendezvous with Columbine, after first walking around the block in a futile search for a suitable necessarium (™ Louise Hagan). Thank goodness, she was able to direct me to one, because I was getting a bit desperate by that point.

From there to Columbine and Debby's place, where I was able to check my e-mail for the only time during my stay in Boston. Shortly after that, Debby came home, and the three of us went out for dinner. Along the way, we swung by a sex shop with a mezuzah on the doorpost, which kinda charmed me. (To be sure, we're talking about a sort of upscale, feminist sex shop. Along the lines of Good Vibes and Toys in Babeland, I imagine, although I've never gotten around to visiting either of those.) I ended up stopping by there again the next day, as I'd been collecting postcards to decorate the room of The Usual Suspects' new server (long story), and I belatedly realized that their selection fit the bill pretty well.

At any rate, this was my first time meeting Debby (and my second time meeting Columbine), and it was very nice. They had falafel, I think; I had schwarma; and a good time was had by all. Afterwards, we stopped by a bookstore, and I managed to escape with only one purchase (Barry Trotter and the Unauthorized Parody), which I took as an achievement. (Review to follow when I finish reading it... in my book log, which is also to follow. I clearly have a lot to catch up on.)

From there to my brothers' in-laws, who unexpectedly did not interrogate me about anything, for which I was silently grateful. And then to sleep.

The following day, I met Kris, once my partner in crime at Clean Sheets. I'd been wanting to meet her in person for years, but hadn't had the chance until now. We talked over lunch, it was nice once again, and possibly this description would be longer and better differentiated from those preceding in this entry if I weren't writing this more than two weeks after the fact and trying to catch up. But I am, so I suppose I'll have to just leave it at that. All three of my Boston meetings left me wanting to come back and see these people again, though. Just one more set of reasons why Boston currently heads the list of places I'm inclined to move to once I leave Ann Arbor, in fact.

4:59 AM:

This is one of the best jokes I've read in some time.