This post originally contained six instances of the word "totally"

Yesterday I wrote a long, meditative post about how I would blog all day if I didn't still hold out some hope of not being a complete dork. But the computer ate it, and today, although I composed several posts in my head, I didn't write any down. How about some bullet points?

Bullet 1: Long talk with Josh. That was nice.

Bullet 2: Siddhartha by Herman Hesse, which I am reading with my high school dropout, is a ridiculous novel. But while we were discussing eastern thought (what is one supposed to talk about in a high school English class, anyway? Especially a class of one?) I realized that moving is just like reincarnation. If I could reach Enlightenment, and not have to be reborn any more into new cities, that would be good. I would strive for that.

Bullet 3: Our housewarming party is tomorrow night. I don't think anyone in Seattle reads this, but if you do, you should definitely come. Just ask me for the info. I was expounding to Josh the joys of hosting, but actually I am a bit nervous, and as usual, I'm dealing with party nervousness by not getting ready--and without the good influence of Tia, I'm afraid the apartment may not be at quite its best. Although...

...I guess this should be a new bullet, so Bullet 4: At grad pub night last night we were talking about all the weird dynamics of being new to a place. For instance, having awkward, self-censorious conversations that can only be (but inevitably will be) understood as such in retrospect; feeling compelled not to turn down any invitations; and having one's living space feel uninaugurated and weirdly private. (Classmate: "After my boyfriend visited, I said to my housemates 'Ha ha, I'm the only one who's had sex in our house!' But I still haven't had a friend over.")

Bullet 5: Shitload of work to do, presentation to prepare, emails to return, angsty blog book to edit, new book about slavery to buy and read and write a paper on, etc, etc.

Bullet 6: Nice rejection today! The first of a batch sent August 14th. I saw a folded 8 1/2 by 11 sheet through the envelope and had hopes (because it wasn't a rejection slip) and then there was an awful uncanny moment when I started to recognize my own cover letter staring back at me. But "These were close" was written on it, so I was happy. I wonder how many nice rejections equals a publication, and can I mix and match?