I can't decide if it's because I'm an artist, or just because I'm a human being, that I have this insatiable ego.

I was talking with Probst over lunch the other day and I said, "It would be nice to get a poem published." He said, "You mean another poem published." And I agreed, yes, that's what I had meant. He said, "You need that reinforcement like, every week, don't you?"

Yep, it's true. Not that I need to get a poem published every week, but that I need frequent reinforcement. Or maybe "need" isn't the right word. Maybe "thrive on" is more accurate.

Driving home from the city tonight, I was thinking about it. I had just gotten a very positive reception from City Lights Bookstore, about my chapbook. (They have a fairly large collection of chapbooks and such for sale. I brought in six of my chapbooks and talked to the guy in charge of such things, to see if they would be willing to carry it. He looked through it and asked, "Oh, how many do you have?" I told him that I had brought only six with me. He said, "Well, we'll take these." I filled out the consignment form and he said, "We usually tell people to check back every three months or so-- but you should probably check back sooner. These will probably sell out in a month or two." I took this to mean, "Hey, this is a really good, eye-catching chapbook. I bet people will want to buy this!")

Anyway, I drove home with a little ego glow of happiness. And I was thinking, lots of things give me this glow of happiness. Seeing an envelope in the mail with a chapbook order in it. Seeing an envelope from a literary magazine-- which, until opened, could always be good news. Getting a complimentary email from a reader. Getting a poem published. Getting a compliment from a friend or stranger or customer. Positive feedback from a professor.

I think I am appropriately appreciative of each of these things. They make me happy. And I get those things almost on a daily basis. Would I be okay without them? And, appreciative or not, have I been taking them for granted? Have I been spending too much time looking forward to the next thing, rather than appreciating the things I have?

I always want more. Whether it be publication credits, or fan letters, or compliments, or subscribers to my notify list. And in a way, its good to want more. I mean, if I stopped submitting to magazines, and stopped writing entries, and stopped putting effort into my friendships-- it would be a waste of my potential. (And if I really thought I had no room for improvement, I wouldn't be constantly trying to improve, right?)

But at the same time, if all the encouragement slowed down or stopped, would I move forward with the same amount of enthusiasm? Am I too governed by positive reinforcement? Do I need to care a little less? The balance between contentment and ambition. Between confidence and overconfidence. Between delusion and grandeur. It's tough.

And today, Laurie was saying to me, "Wow, you're electrified. You're getting published, you've got a chapbook, you're teaching a class, you've got a web site, you're getting fan mail..." And when she summed it all up like that, yeah. It seems I have chalked up a lot of successes this year.

I just sat back and enjoyed my successes, rather than looking forward to the next success, or imagining the next step. I stopped wondering if an email from so-and-so, or an envelope from such-and-such, would be waiting for me when I got home. I thought backwards for a change.

I've done two feature readings. I've written some poetry that I'm really happy with, gotten some wonderful compliments, and published my first chapbook. It's in two bookstores, and in the hands of a whole bunch of readers. I am writing things, and people are reading the things that I write. Both in this journal and in my poetic life. My goals in life aren't all waiting in the future. Some of them-- some of the most important ones-- are being realized right now.

I am an ambitious person. If I've learned anything about myself this year, I've learned that. But I've also had a great deal of success. It gives me faith in my talent, faith in myself. Not just that the next step is possible, but that the steps I've already taken have gotten me somewhere wonderful: here, today, right now.

Maybe I shouldn't care as much about the tangible, quantifiable successes, but I do. I think my work is often good; I don't think people are crazy for reading it, enjoying it, or publishing it. Maybe that's where the real ego comes in-- not just appreciating when someone gives me praise, but being able to see where they're coming from.

My parents and my grandmother gave me this confidence. My family and friends help me to sustain it. My achievements help me to believe in it. I try to say thank you in many ways, to my readers, to my friends, to my parents. But perhaps I don't say it enough. So to everyone who has helped me accomplish all these things-- and, quite frankly, that's all of you-- thank you. So much.

Tim wrote and said that his job as my friend is to help keep my ego in check. (As you can see, he's got quite a job ahead of him.) I'm feeling awfully swell today. Maybe this is the day he needs to write and tell me I'm full of shit.

Of course, I'll probably just take it as a compliment...

I registered for classes yesterday.

The big glitch is that the financial aid office has apparently lost my file somehow-- this may result in a delay of my financial aid, which may result in me being totally screwed. Let me put it this way: I have $38. And today I had to go buy school supplies. And now I have to buy books, and readers for classes. And, you know, food and stuff.

I have to re-fax them some documentation today. Sigh. It sucks because for once in my damn life, I have done everything diligently and on time. I'm so much more responsible now than I was when I was an undergrad. And this time the red tape isn't my fault.

When I registered, I checked with Mickey, who told me that there are five people registered so far for my class. This is excellent news. He says I should be shooting for seven, since if I get seven, it increases my odds of being hired as an adjunct faculty member in the future. So I'm hoping for seven, but in keeping with the first part of this entry, I'm thrilled with five.

Registration was pretty easy. I need to take four classes this semester, and there are only four classes available. Presto! A schedule. Actually, this coming semester covers my favorite time period: the Modern period, from 1900-1950. So I'm quite excited.

Plus, I have a new notebook, chock full of blank paper. And new pens! And a folder! Hee! (Sorry. School supplies make me giddy.)

Well, my parents and sister have officially moved out of their house. I no longer have a room waiting for me when I go home. I don't know if I'm genuinely okay with it, or if it just hasn't hit me yet. I think I'm probably okay with it, though. My room hasn't felt like "my" room since I moved out the first time.

I talked to my sister today, who tells me that the cat is freaked out, but adapting. They've got her on a huge leash, and at four this morning, when she was whining to go outside, my mother grabbed the leash and took her on a tour of the backyard. She didn't try to run away, so that's a good sign.

My sister also sounds much less depressed about it. I know it's a difficult transition to make, because whenever you move somewhere new, it takes a while for that place to feel like home. But sure enough, soon enough, it does feel like home. And I think we're all going to be okay.

Even if I have to spend Thanksgiving sleeping on the couch.

"I saw a whole bunch of farmland: olive trees, and stalks of corn, and strawberry fields. (I'm making this up. I saw farmland, sure, but I couldn't tell a grape tree from a peanut bush. I have no idea what they actually were.)"

sold out:

what i'm reading:
The Fellowship of the Ring. I haven't picked it up in a couple of days, though.

what i'm writing:
My writing resume.

what i'm watching:
Stand By Me was on TV last night. And I'm here to tell you, if you get hit by a train? You never look that good. I've seen lots of hit by a train pictures, and your neck ends up 180 degrees the wrong way, and there's guts spilling out, and you are almost always in more than one piece. Then again, this is possibly more than you needed to know.

anything:
Oh, congratulations to Jessie on winning the diarist.net award for best writing! We were both nominated, but she totally deserves it. She's quite an amazing writer, and such a sweetheart. And while I'm at it, I hope she gets well soon!

you learn something new...
My new "Mo at the Movies" design doesn't work in Netscape. But a kind reader is fixing it for me. Thanks, John! You're swell. As are all boys named John.

journal quote of the day:
"The distinction between egoism and egotism is being blurred as time advances, but the short answer is that an egotist says 'Me first' and an egoist says 'Me only.' This is a big difference!"

~Columbine in Eccentric Flower. Another entry which is overtly about someone's ego. As opposed to the usual journaler entries, which are more covert.

mood ring:
on happy days, i am blue