ignored by men. seriously. let’s start stuff with me then DISA-FUCKING-PPEAR. how about fuck you.

and i really hate my job right now too. i hate it so much that i spent the last half hour of work writing my cover letter (by hand) to that other country i mentioned. i’ll type it up tonight.

fuck everything right now.

better hope my college students don’t fuck with me tonight. i am in NO mood for bullshit right now.

that’s all.

well. today i worked in the crappy bldg. the one where the kids are out of control and it’s a zoo. the one where everyone is miserable. the facility is very nice, but anyway…that’s about it.

there are some regular subs in the bldg, and one of them regularly visits the libr to use the computers on his break.

he’s been more and more friendly to me, but nothing out of the ordinary–just regular chit chat. at least, not that i’ve noticed. but then again, i tend to be incredibly stupid when it comes to men, at times.

anyway. today i’m sititng at the circ desk updating my blog (prof one) and he walks over to me and hands me some sheets of paper, and says “would you mind looking these over and telling me what you think?”

uhm. i look down to see they are poems. he’s handed me some poems. i say “sure, i’ll look at them. are they yours? you write poetry?”

(instant rise in level of stature in my eyes)

“yes, and i’m submitting a manuscript to get published, but i want some feedback”

so i’m silently wracking my brain wondering when was it exactly that we talked about poetry? because i’m thinking we never did. did i tell him i was a writer? a poet? when did we talk about it?

the answer i’m pretty sure, is we never talked about it. the extent of our conversations have been about the badly behaved students and he mentioned that he thought he’d seen me before. i told him that everyone says i look like someone else they know. i’m not sure if that’s good or bad.

so i was excited. a poet. it made my whole day.

he left the libr and said he’d be back later. as soon as he was out of sight, i read them. there were two. they needed some work here and there, but really, they were pretty good. very powerful subject matter, and really, unbelieveably personal.

i was really surprised, and touched, that he shared them with me. i mean, he barely knows me.

but he has this sense about him, that in fact, he’s a very intuitive person, and he probably knew i would be a safe person to share them with. maybe he just figured, since i am a libr, i read and would be able to give feedback.

so i did tell him i write, and we talked a bit about that when he came back. i told him i was trying to decide between two poems to submit to a contest we both were talking about. he asked if i wanted him to look at them. i said okay. so i did give them to him.

i’m not sure if he read them right away, but he came up and asked how long i’d been writing. i told him, and then i got uncomfortable, suddenly feeling like a shitty writer, and said something like, well, i don’t feel i’ve written anything very good until the last few years.

he’s probably in his 50’s. he’s very tall and lanky, and carries himself in a very stately way, but not arrogant at all. his presence is very calming, and i guess today, after he gave me those poems, i realized that the last few times i worked in that bldg, i looked forward to seeing him.

he was leaving and asked what days i was there. i told him. he said, and this is when i got the slightest impression that maybe the poem thing was a tiny bit more…he seemed nervous and said “i’ll be back on fri.”

hmmm. a fellow poet. thank god.