Me and the Demon Nipple got up at some ungodly hour of the morning and headed to work. Man, I was PMS-ing hardcore. I was so annoyed by the people I work with, I can't even tell you. And I wish I could bitch about them to you and let you revel in my irritation, but one of my regulars (hi, Phil!) reads this page, and I can't have the Starbucks Experience in any way diminished for Phil. Goddamnit.

All morning, I kept thinking, "caramel brownie... caramel brownie... choclatey gooey goodness... today I will have one..." and it was the one day we didn't have any! I resist those fucking things manfully almost every work day, but today was the day I was going to happily give in to the dark side. No caramel brownie. Sometimes you just have to laugh. Or scream. I, personally, did both.

I got off work, threw on a change of clothes in the bathroom, and headed to campus for a poetry workshop with Kim Addonizio. I asked her later, and she told me she is the official "Writer in Residence" for our school's Writing and Consciousness program. All I knew is, it was an opportunity to study with a writer I really respect.

I almost went to USF because I knew she was associated with that school. I have one of her writing books. As you can imagine, I was beside myself with excitement when I found out I'd have the chance to study with her. There were only three of us in the workshop, which made it nice and intimate.

We don't have many actual workshops in our program, which is why my girls and I do our own thing on Tuesday afternoons. But it's very different to have a "professional" assess your work. She took a more holistic approach towards the poem, and I think I learned a lot about successful critique, as well as poetry.

I submitted four poems, and she chose to look at two of them. As soon as I sat down and saw that one of them was "Tucked In" I had to inwardly brace myself. I was on a hormonal hair-trigger of emotions and I was afraid I was not going to take criticism with my usual constructive aplomb. This is particularly true of this one poem; I included "Tucked In" because, quite frankly, I hoped to impress her. I think it's one of the best things I've ever written. Plus, it appears in our literary magazine, so if she found serious problems with it, I was well and truly screwed.

Fortunately, as soon as she started talking, I was too busy taking notes to really worry any more about that. And she did seem really impressed with my work, particularly "Tucked In", which she said was successful, subtle, and other really happy adjectives that don't come to mind right now.

O happy validation!

Remember my tarot reading at the beginning of the year, telling me that this was going to be the year of honing my craft? That's been my main thing lately-- working on revising existing poems, crafting them into "good" poetry, and wondering how the hell to go about it.

Before we were workshopped, Kim asked us each to give a little speech about where we are at with our writing. I told her that my main concern now is this craft process in revising my poems. I have a hard time going back to things; I marry myself to my poems rather quickly and then have a hard time making anything but subtle changes.

She said several things that really struck me. First, she said that I should try to become attached to the poem that is not yet written-- the poem that wants to be there. This little adjustment in thinking makes all the difference, I swear to you.

Then she told me not to be afraid of playing with major elements of the poem: point of view, person, focus, plot, what have you. And that in the process of writing the poem over and over again from wildly different standpoints, something will click. And that something is the direction the poem "wants to go in." She used one of my pieces as an example, and threw out a number of different directions I could go. And she said that it' s helpful to try and go in all those directions before you commit to one.

She was enthusiastic about it because she said that this is a common crossroads for writers. And unless you can learn to revise brutally (kill your darlings, as they say) you will never become the writer you have the potential to be.

It's the next step for me, and now I have a path to follow. This is exactly what I was hoping I would find by coming to school here. I couldn't be more excited.

And oh, there was so much more. I have five pages of notes-- things she said that applied to all four of us, things about poetry in general.

For instance, I really like her idea of reading other writers with a specific goal in mind. I already go to my favorite poetry anthologies if I'm stuck for inspiration, but she suggested a close examination of, for instance, line breaks, if you're dealing with that issue in your own poem. "Hmm. I'm not sure how to structure the stanzas of this poem. Let me see how a bunch of other writers have structured their stanzas..." This kind of focused reading is not something I normally do, but it seems self evident that it would be helpful.

I feel that I can attack my writing with renewed vigor now. I think this is the beginning of great things. And I am so, so grateful to Kim and to my school for giving me the opportunity to have this workshop.

I'm only sorry that my girls missed it! I'm glad I took notes.

Oh, and then I went out with Michael. (Cue the Coy Monique.)

We had really good Chinese food and saw Chocolat, which was so enjoyable. Juliette Binoche is perfect (she actually looks like she eats chocolate-- unlike, say, Courteney Cox on Friends, who is supposed to be a chef, but looks like she never eats anything). I don't know if it deserves a Best Picture nod, although it definitely belongs far above Gladiator.

Speaking of which, I tend to agree with stee's taste in movies. Last year we agreed on Three Kings as the Egregiously Overlooked Film of the Year, and I have to throw my support behind You Can Count on Me as this year's pick. That film is so excellent, with phenomenal performances by the two leads. I would also rate Billy Eliot way up there; certainly above Gladiator by a mile.

You'll notice I am babbling about movies now instead of talking about going out with Michael. It just seems really strange to write about it. I'm not usually one for holding myself back, but dating another journaler is just plain weird. And eating kittens is just plain wrong.

Um, I had fun? We'll probably do it again sometime? Is that enough information for you?

Oh, of course it isn't. Sigh.

" I also thought he understood one thing about me: I need some time alone. If I spend 72 hours straight with ANYONE ON PLANET EARTH, I get cranky."