Friday, June 13, 2003
I love you guys. Empathic beams (with a whiff of sex) from Josh, Kasey with a rousing defense of Shelley. I can actually vividly remember the quaver that began to develop in my voice as I read the poem to that group, which seemed glorious halfway through, something like pure joy in the sound--but then it started to seem so damn long, especially after I looked up and saw the expressions on everyone's faces. It was a bit like the first 100-meter sprint I did when I was on the track team in high school. We'd been running indoors and I was actually pretty good at the 50-yard dash but had never run the 100 before. The gun went off and I felt good, like that flying feeling you're supposed to get, and I didn't see anybody on either side of me. Then about halfway through my legs started feeling very strange, like I was trying to move them through molasses, and then suddenly I was seeing everyone's backs. There's a picture of me in the race at that point and you can see me at the center with everyone else disappearing off the right side of the frame. The coach assigned me to hurdles the next day.