Too short to write an essay on, too long to tweet:
--End of the semester is upon us. As always, hoo and ah, in that order. See previous post for my disappointment with my honors class. Haven't graded their finals yet, but I will with much trepidation (and a glass or three of wine).
--Every year I swear I won't watch American Idol again, and every year I give in. A definite feeling of "blah" has crept in, though. The remaining few are rehearsing their perfect moves over and over, and I'm a little tired of it. I actually enjoy reading Entertainment Weekly's next-day snark more than watching, if truth be told. Do I have a prediction for the winner? Why, sure. I say Scotty McCreery will be our first country American Idol. He's rather endearing when he isn't trying to convince us so hard of his endearing-ness.
--I'm having dinner Friday with my fellow colleagues on the search committee I chaired this spring. Loveliness to come, and a few margaritas.
--I have sent five poems to a small press who takes open submissions; no entry fee, though I did stumble-fumble my way through a short proposal letter. I dunno: how do you write a proposal for a book of poetry? If I had a theme or concept, it probably would have been easier--though I did try to concoct one. My real theme, of course, is me me me me.
--My wife and I are going to Virginia wine country and Pennsylvania at the end of the month--an actual car road trip, which we don't do many of. Then my brother-in-law's wedding, followed by a short-ish trip to L.A. Yes, Virginia, there is wine country in Virginia.
--Can't add much to the post-bin Laden fervor, other than: time to move on, folks.
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