One of those Name Dropping Posts

Still in NY -- will be speaking at 6:00 at Marist College about publishing and being a poet. I heard there's a class that's REQUIRED to attend. I love it when people are REQUIRED to listen to me talk. Warms my wicked little heart.

TB and TV drove me to NY Friday night and dropped me and my unreasonably heavy book-filled suitcase at the train station Saturday morning.

In the afternoon I read with George Quasha at Cadmium. I was surprised how well our readings fit together, I didn't suspect they would. He read a series of dream poems (someone else's dreams who collaborated with him) -- and you all know how I'm into that crap. In fact, last night I woke up after dreaming that I was consoling a wretched, weeping poet (won't drop that name here). Yeah, cause I'm all about consoling the poets.

Anyhow, there's video of that reading -- not sure if it'll ever make it online or stay in Quasha's "private collection."

Some famous lady poets in attendance: Lea Graham, Lynn Behrendt, Maryrose Larkin and of course the host Anne Gorrick.

Despite my reputation, Anne invited me to spend the night at her incredible house. Most of the evening comprised of my harassing her friend who was also spending the night. That was a pleasure. Her husband gave me a jar of maple syrup they made from the trees in their own yard. In fact, I dreamed of that syrup last night too. I was walking down the street and pulled it out and said hey, look at this syrup Peter gave me. And somebody asked doesn't it take a lot sap to make syrup? and I repeated what Peter told me in real life: "It takes 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of syrup." Then TB totally killed the moment with "Why the hell would anyone make their own syrup?"

Hmm, I guess TB represented my inner naysayer in that one. Buzz kill.

Anyhow, the syrup is fabulous.

My big feat for this weekend was keeping my big yap shut and not spoiling Lea Graham's surprise birthday dinner on Sunday. Tommy Zurhellen set it all up and he's very tall and rides a motorcycle, so I knew not to cross him. When Lea and I walked into the restaurant, the waiter asked if we were there for the birthday party and I was all like, "Do we look like the kind of assholes who'd be going to a birthday party?" The waiter wasn't informed that it was a surprise party.

I get to spend the afternoon in the library so I can work uninterrupted -- which is good, I have a pile of work.