One was a rejection. Another was a very nice rejection, suggesting I send one of the poems back again, only within a different batch. A third one was a rejection saying my work almost made it into the issue, and please send more. Ouch, that stings. Oh wait, it doesn't!

As for the other two: Primavera (which I sent stuff to waaay back in the day) is publishing three of my poems (and if I make some changes to it, possibly a fourth) and Pegasus is publishing two more. I don't think either of these places is particularly fancy but it's always exciting to get a "yes" rather than a "no-thank-you," or even a "no, but maybe later."

My busy day (yesterday) was equal parts surreal and crappy. The surreal part happened when I got a two hour break in the middle of my shift, went and tutored one of my students, and then came back again. It felt like I had been gone for a thousand years. The crappy part happened when I first got there, and the store looked like crap, and I spent hours and hours exhausting myself trying to clean it up. I also yelled at people, and possibly scared them. It wasn't pretty.

Today started out bad (I had horrible nausea this morning, yuck) but work was very low stress and good. (Ry was with me on the day from hell yesterday, and today he had the store all clean for me when I came in and gave me many hugs. When he's a rock star, everyone will be jealous.) (Speaking of which, a customer came up to him yesterday and said, "Are you some kind of rock star or something? There are always girls hanging out, waiting to talk to you." Ry just laughed and said, "Closer than you'd think, man." But it's so true about the young girls. They come to our store and stalk him as soon as school is out. It's hilarious.)

By the end of the day, after the store was closed, the three of us who were working were screaming at imaginary customers at the tops of our lungs. "NO! NO YOU CAN'T STAY HERE AND DRINK YOUR COFFEE AFTER 9:30! WE CLOSE AT 9:30, WHICH MEANS WE ARE CLOSED! WE'VE BEEN HERE ALL GODDAMN DAY! WE WANT TO GO HOME, YOU STUPID, STUPID PEOPLE! GET THE FUCKING FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

You'd be surprised how much stress that can relieve.

Tomorrow, I am having a meeting with my school's newest professor, whom I have not yet met. She has been wonderful via email, though. She read my thesis and wrote a review of it that says quite nice things, but also pinpoints where there is room for improvement. She recommended a couple of books for me (by Adrienne Rich and Lucille Clifton) and talked about the need for more external perspective, even if my subject is the body.

Another thing she implied was that the "serious" poems are not always quite as good as the funny ones, not quite equal to their intent. It's never occurred to me that I might be better at the funny poems-that the reason I am less comfortable with seriousness is because I know those poems are inferior. Lots to think about, and talk about tomorrow. I can't wait.

Also, the fact that she was willing to write a long review of my thesis indicates that she might agree to write me a recommendation letter. (I know how that sounds. Believe me, even if she doesn't do a single other thing for me, she has been so great that I will appreciate her forever. But currently, getting these letters is at the forefront of my mind. I need them. I have not gotten any advice on how to get them. They are not falling into my lap.)

In other news, my inner turmoil continues apace. I am getting more accustomed to the idea of moving back to Los Angeles, if only because my friends there are so excited by the prospect. But there are plenty of things here that I don't want to leave behind. And plenty of things that I might need to move away just to get away from.

On the other hand, I am craving adventure, and I'm not sure how much of an adventure Los Angeles would be. It seems like more of a safe haven. Or maybe I should think of it as a waystation. A chance to save up some money and spend time with my friends, before moving even more away than I did last time.

Finally, to be perfectly honest with you, I am depressed about Valentine's Day. Today I heard "At Last" by Etta James, and I almost burst into tears. I don't think that song is supposed to make you terribly sad, is it?