Laughing at the Urinal

Man, I was so ready for some good news.

I feel about twenty pounds lighter now, having carried around those anxieties for so long. I checked my archives. It was a year ago this month that I made the decision to apply to grad school.

And I also feel like the deer caught in headlights. I’m sure that any moment I will get the call…”there was a terrible mistake…”

I’ll just hang up.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for the overwhelming congratulations, it’s truly a gift to be able to share a little joy around here. I’m not sure if I would have had the material, let alone the courage to apply, if I didn’t have dogpoet. Various posts made their way into the more polished manuscript which I submitted (cum-on-the-tank-top, anyone?). And so many of you encouraged me along the way. You know who you are, and you have my gratitude. Looking back, there have been people along the way, ever since the fourth grade, who told me to keep writing. It’s always been on the wall. The only thing that consistently got in the way was myself. I’m still learning.

A huge, sloppy thank you to Brian and Jennie for writing two of my letters of recommendation, which were so much better than the one I got from my last workshop instructor. (She basically had me write my own letter, then signed her name to it. I think I’ve learned all I can from her).

Four years ago my life was so, so small. It fit within the tiny bag of crystal meth I’d buy from my dealer every few days. Everything’s different. I’ve worked hard, and I’ve been blessed.

God, I miss my mother. I wanted to call her up and tell her the good news. I thought about her when I was standing at the urinal at work after the phone call from Columbia, and I just started laughing out loud. And then I finally cried a little, from relief and gratitude. And then I started laughing again.

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