C and I went out for an expensive and luxurious dinner last night to celebrate that I won the Kalliope poetry contest, and got a poem accepted into the Syracuse Cultural Workers Calendar for 2009, and that MORE magazine took the latest essay I sent them. A triple header, all the good news coming in one week. We drank half a bottle of champagne between us, and the waitress let us take the rest of it home.

Meanwhile, I keep plugging away at revsing the hot tub play--I got the idea for the title of the play this morning as I was rushing around getting ready for school: The Hot Tub Defense. That's it--that's the right title. I also scribbled down some additional dialogue that will make it work. That play has been pure pleasure. I feel like I know the characters inside out, and am thinking about maybe writing a novella based on the play--a la Shopgirl by Steve Martin.

I'm still reading the second part of Neil Simon's memoirs. How incredibly prolific he was! It sounds like he was just chanelling the plays--like they were pouring through him so fast he was just taking dictation. He says that afterwards he couldn't even believe he had written them.

I had to say good-bye to my third graders today as I'm moving on down into the second grade next week. It's always poignant with the little ones, who throw their arms around my waist and say "Don't go!" Trust me, that never happens in high school where I will begin my residency in one more week. I'm trying not to dread it. Sometimes you encounter really sensitive smart kids in high school. It's just that the ones who don't want to be studying poetry know for a fact that they don't want to. I wish it were an elective at that age, and that I had only students who wanted to be in class. But I'm thinking of trying out some rap lyrics with them this year; that might yield more fun for all of us.