Retread

[itsallovernow]

I must've worn these tires out already, going over them until they're flat and tractionless.

Hate to be wrong, hate to miss, to strike out, to do things badly.

Right now, I hate my Remix story. I can't nail it, can't give it teeth. It's paper flat, one note, and I can see what I want it to do, but I can't hold onto it and it makes me want to cry. It's gone past work, now it's just loathing and bitterness, lemony, citrus peel bitterness at not succeeding.

Too tired to deal, and I'm a grownup, know that's the heart of the matter. Full work day, three students, one project consultation, then a belly dance class where I just wanted to throw on music and tell the students to do whatever they wanted for an hour, and didn't. Danced instead.

Still jury duty free. It's like being perpetually on hold. I'd rather serve than have every day be an anticipation. Do I have to go, do I have to serve? Would I hate this story less if I knew I'd have time to work on it?

Have just put myself into a much better mood looking up some Catullus to link to for poetry month. Couldn't find anything that translated as well as it reads in Latin, but Catullus cracks me up. He writes all of this love poetry to Clodia, and then goes on to say the most vile things about her when they break up. Plus, he's very fond of describing people smelling like goat.

ETA: Apparently, while whining, I annoyed myself enough to jumpstart some actual work. So, instead of getting my hate on for my story, I actually printed it out and red penned the wretched little bugger. I feel much better now:) Amazing what a little red pen can do.

Still no poetry though. All I've got is smatterings and dirty lymericks:) And some Eliot. And Blake. But who wants Blake on a sunny Tuesday?

Comments

[mesascaper.livejournal.com]

looking up some Catullus to link to for poetry month.
Huh, the only exposure I've had to Catullus is courtesy of Diana Gabaldon books Outlander and Dragonfly in Amber (yes, I read romance novels *g*) Anyway, she uses the Latin and then translates. I remember this one bit...."da mi basia mille..."
"Then let amorous kisses dwell
On our lips, begin and tell
A Thousand and a Hundred score
A Hundred, and a Thousand more."

a nice sappy love poem.

Plus, he's very fond of describing people smelling like goat.
So, does he do this in poems? Sounds kinda kinky....

[thassalia.livejournal.com]

Yes, he does this in poems. And he's all about the sappy and the suggestive, and then he's just mean later on:)

The goat is an interpretation, a translation, but it's pretty constant:)

[haphazardmethod.livejournal.com]

Ugh. Jury duty. {{{T}}}

[thassalia.livejournal.com]

Thanks muchly dear. At this point, I wouldn't even mind serving it, I just hate the calling every day:)

[ropo.livejournal.com]

Wait ... so you can read LATIN??

Freak.

[thassalia.livejournal.com]

Hee, hee. French, Latin, modern Greek, and Italian:) In short, the most useless languages imaginable for living in the City of Angeles:) Oh, I can also read ancient Greek, I just can't tell you what it says:)

[fourteenlines.livejournal.com]

At least you have a draft to print out and redline.

*blinks blearily at computer screen*

April 6th, huh? Already?

[thassalia.livejournal.com]

You've got my deepest commiserations, hon. This has just proved to be a hell of a challenge! I have much faith in you though!