Players Club, Humpty Dumpty

September 14th, 2012

Reading tonight at Players Club, Ron Carlson, Brendan Constantine, and Nicelle Davis
Date: Sep 14th, 2012
Time: 7:00 pm
Location: The Players Club
Address:16 Gramercy Park
New York, NY 10003 (map)

http://redhen.org/events/

What I have been doing in New York.

1. I drop galleys at the reviewers. I haul them around in my black bag. And I drop them off and I talk up our spring list. I make the idea of how cool our books are leap off the page like they’re little Olympic gymnasts.
2. I walk all over NY. No subways yet except for coming from the airport. I walked from 20th to 42nd and then to 55th. I took one cab ride. I walked from Chelsea to KGB Bar last night and then back. I walked to Cornelia Street Café and then back to Chelsea. I am walking a couple hours a day.
3. I have thought about shopping, but I haven’t done it yet.
4. Food— Day One–Gyro off the truck and then Westside Market—tuna salad and grapes. Day Two—Westside Market—chicken salad and blackberries.
5. Readings—KGB was full and so was Cornelia Street Café. Great readings.
6. Today we have the Players Club reading.

Walking around NY I feel busy and hot. I carry my heels in my bag and wear my comfortable shoes. I skip over puddles, run around cars. I move quickly. When I arrive at my destination, I whip into my shoes and jacket and flop around my hair a bit with my fingers like that’s going to help the situation. I’m not much of a hair dryer person, so I’m out the door with my wet head every morning. I just whup my head from side to side and pretend that’s a style. I slap on a little lipstick and that’s the whole show.

I like going into little stores in NY and looking at stuff I can’t possibly afford. Scarves that cost $50, blouses that cost $200, dresses that cost $500. I never go into the really expensive stores. I avoid Saks and Bloomingdales, I don’t like large department stores where I might get lost. It’s easy for NY to feel like too much. Too many beautiful women. Too many people. Too many expensive stores. Too many things I can’t afford.

If I lived here, I would get claustrophobia. Too much time in my tiny hotel eating dinner by myself. I would want to get out more. But I like visiting.

I’ve had little shake ups recently. Certain things shake me to my little Kate core. There can be some line that you cross and you say, I’m too tired. Too thick with everything going on. Big stuff wilding around in my head and sifting down until it feels like the little Kate Core which says, Kate’s going to be okay is blowing from side to side. The core of you is supposed to be like the pole at the middle of the merry-go-round. But when you get all shaken up, then the horses and donkeys and camels or whatever those little circus-y animals they have on merry-go-rounds are, those animals start flying off in all directions. The pole wobbles and falls down. Animals and eggs crash and burn. Humpty Dumpty broken. You get confused, you lose your grip. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

Published in: on September 14, 2012 at 10:16 am  Comments (1)  
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Ruskin event, Kim Dower, Brendan Constantine, William Trowbridge, Henry James, migraines, Humpty Dumpty

February 10, 2011

 This weekend we are going to have a reading at the Ruskin Art Club at 2 pm with William Trowbridge flying in at 2 pm and Brendan Constantine and Kim Dower.  It will be amazing.  I can’t wait because all three of them will be great.  Some of my students will come because my students love the Ruskin. 

 I went to acupuncture Tuesday which involves small needles that are punctured into your body including your hands and feet.  Afterwards I felt pretty good but not like dancing more like coasting.  I liked this acupuncturist, she was honest and beautiful and willing to touch one’s skin.  She had warm hands and eyes. I might get better.  Sometimes I’m not sure if we get sick because of things that happen to us that we cannot bear or just we get sick anyway.  You have to really wonder how long acupuncture has been around and who would have thought this up.  Doctor type says, I’ve got this idea, how about I stick pointy things into various parts of your anatomy to make you feel better.

 And somebody went for that stuff?

 Really?

 And that was back in?

You guessed it…The Stone Age.

 Who was doing this?

 You guessed it?

 The same people who invented glass, fireworks, most of the cool games, rice, yes, the Chinese.

 For some reason we are buried in Henry James and I am really getting sick of him.  For one thing, he is an annoying.  What is with these old maids that never get on with doing anything with their lives.  Just do something  Marry the wrong man if you must man or run through a corn field or go dancing in one of those bars with sawdust on the floor or go to Europe and swim across the Hellespont or just paint yourself blue and pretend you’re one of the Avatar and go to a dance.  Go fishing.  I hate these little spinster types. 

 I really hate the aunt in “The Heiress” who has nothing to do but meddle, what a boring little one she is.  Plus the whole premise of the story is that she can’t marry him because he isn’t rich and her father hates him.  The crux of the story is Morris Townsend could have married her with 10,000 pounds a year but he couldn’t stand it.  That wasn’t enough money for him.  But, all of Henry James stories I have decided are not really about people but are actually about money.  People are more interesting than money.  Even Portrait of a Lady and Golden Bowl annoy me in their obsession with money.  Henry James likes money there’s no doubt about it and he always sends the bad people to America.  Toni Morrison is a better writer. Sorry Henry James, but I’m just saying, you’re going down.

 Hopefully Nancy doesn’t still read my blog like she used to because she called me on the way to work and told me to go home because I was ill and I know she was right, really, but I decided not because I missed a day of work last week for AWP and if I lose this gig I don’t know if I can learn how to waitress or be an astronaut. 

 Headaches make thoughts fall apart like glass building blocks.

 I feel like Humpty Dumpty.

 I should avoid walls and sitting on them for more reasons than one.

 Lisa would have a clever response to that.

 Oh, wait a minute, I could finish my two non-fiction books and get a gi-normous advance. 

 Being a writer is the real reason. 

 My fortune cookie says “Serious trouble will bypass you.”

 If there is a light at the end of the tunnel, you still have to enter the tunnel.

 Steve is considering Cambodia, Thailand and Vietnam but only if he can live there for $100/month. 

 After February, I want to rest in March so I am only going to go to Nebraska and New York. 

 Speaking of tunnels, I am going to write on Saturday, my one writing day this weekend. 

 I have never dated a man with a beard.

 Fear of beards is called pogonophobia. 

 Fear of wine is oenophonophobia.  This is not one of my phobias

Humpty Dumpty

http://www.quackometer.net/blog/uploaded_images/humpty-dumpty-795696.gif

Published in: on January 11, 2010 at 10:06 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Annie, Humpty Dumpty

January 11, 2009

Today I heard someone playing Annie very loudly in their car, I remember when I first saw that movie, early 80’s just after leaving the Farm. I had never had any parents, never seen any families, parents touching children, never seeing families hugging or loving, but when I saw Annie, I remember seeing Bernadette Peters mimic a mother, and Daddy Warbucks was Annie’s father, and oh, how I wanted someone to adopt me. I knew it was too late. I was too old, wasn’t in the orphanage any more, but I was officially an orphan having never lived with my parents and when I got financial aid that’s why I got it because I was registered as an orphan having never lived with my parents. I thought it would be heaven to have parents of your own.

Now everyone I know fights the hell of demon families and writes whole books about them, A Long Days Journey into Night, but then… I wanted parents to scoop me up, to say, you’re not alone, to say Kathy, Kathy, everything is going to be all right. I say it to myself… and it is okay… And I am going to wait until March 13 for a marathon to give my knee time to heal. I’m not insane, just crazy. Everything’s okay, rockabye. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall, and all the king’s horses and all the kings men couldn’t put him back together again.

Published in: on January 11, 2010 at 10:04 pm  Leave a Comment  
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