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Jam Today
SSar's Beast
morbane
And now that the guy behind me has stopped shooting neon-coloured suction darts at his unresponsive monitor, making me crack up, I can write an entry.

I declare yesterday a SSar Day...

It's a tradition of mine. Every now and then, I have beautiful moments set apart, where, for reasons or for none, I feel supremely grateful and joyous. I call days upon which those occur 'SSar Days' and remember them.

I invented this tradition on June 18th, 1999. I had had a lousy day on June 17th - I spent all of it fighting with my two closest friends. The next day, for whatever reason, I felt great - healed, warm, insightful, collected. That was a SSar Day.

The next one was November 1st, 2002. I didn't have a reason, but felt unusually strong/content/secure/joyful while delivering my newspaper run.

I name yesterday a SSar Day because mostly it wasn't - or, that is, I didn't appreciate much of it. I woke up having chewed on my lip in my sleep, meaning it was all swollen and sore. I arrived five minutes late up at Uni, so the girl I was supposed to meet wandered off somewhere and we didn't meet for an hour. That kind of thing. Lost my temper once, and snapped uncharacteristically. Felt like I wasn't communicating with someone I was very close to. Felt I had failed him. Also felt like I was being trapped into being inconsiderate to another person. Missed the Library's closing time. Accidentally didn't drop off a book that is soon due. Forgot to post a letter I had already sealed and stamped. Gave a man on the street some spare change, and was treated to a lecture on how he was obviously a criminal by the next guy along.

That was my list of grievances.

I wandered back to Unicomm, wondering whether I should try to go online or not. "You'll end up whining at everyone," I reasoned. "Oh, all right, SSar, you can go online if you must. But stay quiet."

And then I got online, and my friends were there, and there was kind and friendly feedback on my own poem, and someone had actually written a poem to me, and then I talked to Pip on the phone for a very long time. And it was all that - or beyond what - I needed.

I started realising that the day had not been awful, that I had liked it, that I had had fun watching a movie and had had unexpected time with Josh and had made a whimsical comment, earlier in the day, that I was quite proud of, and that I loved people, and that I was in love with my world.

Thank you.

...

Atwinats! oddball27 is doing it again! Mortua est. By fork.

Lines from her poem, appearing on the WW lists today:

'with pain dripping from my eyes
and pooling underneath them,'

Lines from my poem, appearing yesterday:

'already sleep was dripping from your eyes
and forming deep pools under them'

...Itaque...

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These SSar Days must be pretty important if you can remember the exact date of them. I'm glad you had one yesterday. I had a similar sort of moment on a bus once. It was Autumn and the bus was flying along a narrow road, stirring up clouds of fallen leaves as it went. I had a most exquisite feeling of strength and freedom that no bus ride as given me since.

A pox on this oddball27.

Yes, they are extremely significant. Your bus image is one to smile at... I had a ferry ride like that. There was nothing unusual about the weather, except that it was summery, but I loved the air and the view so much that I was in a dream for the whole ride, just standing at the railing looking at things.

Do you remember where the bus was taking you at the time?

oddball27 is a good poet who has no need to steal others' thoughts. I went and I yelled at her. Next option involves stabbing things. With my fork.

The bus was taking me somewhere very prosaic - from uni to a shopping centre where a main bus station was located.

Try stabbing things with a spoon instead. It's not as effective, but the ridiculousness of the situation might make you feel better.

Actually, far from being prosaic, that reminds me of something. Once, last year, my Chemistry teacher - only a decade older than her students, and rather cool - had to take the bus to school because her car broke down. Because she was taking the bus, she dug out her old taking-the-bus notebook, which she had always carried with her on her way to university. She showed it to me. It was full of odd, whimsical, funny poetic comments - half-rhyming things about how boring this or that lecturer was, thoughts, day-to-day wonders. I was enraptured, and especially by the honour she was doing me. For a teacher to show a student her work - well, that was just awesome.

I feel quite good. After all, it's a warped compliment. But she needs to correct her habits. Pronto.

Note: The fork, which exists and is carried with me at all times for use as a letter-opener, as part of my personal stationery, really is a humorous object. Hm... maybe, however, I do need a spoon...

Just out of interest, did you get my invitation to join jane_of_letters?

No... I didn't. *goes looking*

Every day is SSar's day! *Cheers weakly, notices the odd stares, blushes and slowly walks away*

Death to oddball27! I actually nominated that poem without noticing your lines, now I want to run back and snatch that nomination away.

I'm glad you nominated it, anyway. It's a beautiful poem. What I'd like to happen would be for her to go through, rigorously prune everything she got from everyone else, and prove to herself that she didn't need any stolen ideas anyway. She is a good poet, maddeningly.

Hi honey, it's me. Smiles all round.

When you're hedgehog-hackled
just-out-of-bed spit-and-polished off
Or so they think! -wield your fork
Or spongy dart
With the pride of one who has been able
to vanquish at least one day,
Or two, in an erringly cute life.

And know also, as you turn
From under the convenient tent of
unruly hair-hood, displaying that
Sweet as maple-sugar grin,
That we're also here, happy in hiding.

-write me. I'd love to see you again over the holidays.
C.

Why thank you! I would also love to see you. I'm in Auckland from the 22nd to the 30th, back again on the morning of the 1st, so I'll be here for much of the holidays. Am I likely to see you up at Uni this week - as in, do you have exams? I might be studying up there, and I have exams on the 15th, the 17th, and the 21st.

Chuffles, dear.

*curious* What did Anne say in response to when you PMed her?

She said she was sorry that this had occurred, and that she would delete the pieces I complained about.

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