I am settled down in DC for the week, putting together a little video in celebration of National Poetry Month, working away on the nonfiction book (more on that in my latest She Writes "Countdown to Publication" post, here) and watching the rain fall.
March is a month of birthdays for me, and according to a quick skim of the astrological charts, the pairings of Aries and we Taurus types--my birthday is May 5--tends to be predicated on "strong determination, honesty, and passion for life." That seems like a fair and fairly flattering statement. Also bonding us: games. Whether Trivial Pursuit, Spades, or Chess, the men around me are always game-lovers.
On Saturday I headed down to Charlottesville for my friend Dave's birthday (where we played Kings, complete with a prep round of Irish Car Bombs). On the long stretch down 29 I thought about small(er) town life. I miss CVille sometimes, and not just because of Bodo's Bagels, though that is a significant factor. I miss impromptu trips up to Skyline Drive. I miss the restaurants and shops of the Downtown Mall. Someday I'd like a house where I can invite a big group of friends over, without wondering where they will sit.
On a bus ride to New York City for the Poets & Writers Birthday Gala, I sat next to a woman coming from North Carolina. She said she saw more shows--concerts, plays, art exhibits--in Greensboro than she did when she lived in a city. "If there's only one or two big things coming through each month," she said, "you make sure to be there."
Hmmm. You know, I have no idea where I'm going to be a year from now. I love DC, but this is the most portable my life has ever been. Which is another way of saying "rootless." Which is another way of saying, oddly lonely. Even at my busiest. Especially at my busiest.
Speaking of big things going on, this Thursday (April 1) I am hosting Dylan Landis and Joanna Smith Rakoff at the Arts Club of Washington (2017 I Street NW). They will each be reading from their amazing books of debut fiction: Normal People Don't Live Like This and A Fortunate Age. We'll start at 7 PM, with a Q&A and chance to mingle afterwards; if you're around, please join us.
It's time to toast the start of spring, rain and all.