Yes, my fellow denizens of the blogosphere, that title can mean only one thing: tomorrow is my favorite, favorite, FAVORITE day of every Spring: the day we begin Hedda Gabler in my World Literature II class.  I remember my first experience teaching Hedda as being a bit shocking, as my students insisted that Hedda was, well, a b-word, and a bit of a coward.  This was something I had never quite considered.  My first time reading the play, at about eleven or twelve (yes, my tween years were filled with admiration of Ibsen and Chekhov characters, which goes quite a while to Explain), I could only think of her as a hero.  Once my students explained, I began to see their point of view: her insistence on decorum, on escape through hearing of the lives — and mangling the lives — of others.  Still, I can’t help but wonder if there’s something a bit heroic in her recklessness, even if I must admit that it’s destructive — or, at least, in her search for an act that has some meaning.

I feel like Hedda most when I am driving.  Sometimes I wonder if all of my stress comes out when I’m behind the wheel.  I’m calm.  I’m fine.  I get into the car.  Suddenly, I’m honking the horn, yelling at stop lights, and hurling unpleasant epithets at the drivers around me.  Thank goodness I don’t have General Gabler’s pistols in the glove compartment.

Been thinking quite a bit of Plath’s “Medusa” lately, a poem which has always seemed to me to be about Living in the Wake.  Living in the Wake is a difficult way to live, but it seems to be the way of all flesh.  And raises, as most good poems raise, the question of whether the past is ever the past.

Methinks that billet doux will be out soon!  I’ll be keeping an eye on dancing girl’s website.  Kristy Bowen posted some teasers, and I cannot wait to see the full book!  I am absolutely thrilled to be a part of this project (that’s my bird in the ribcage right there!).

And some more good news: Prairie Schooner has accepted two of my witch poems.  I was struck speechless when I saw the e-mail, and have been walking around in euphoria since!

I found this evening that someone had found my blog by Googling the following: “Is Emily Dickinson hopeful or hopeless?”  Good question, fair Googler.  A better question: for her, is there a difference?