Seattle 150, or Rainy Days Are Here For the Time Being

I found a magic book last night. It was almost the best part of the evening, which began when Secret Agent Lover Man and I decided to schlep our weary tushes down to my favorite Thai place(at least, my favorite Thai place in my neighborhood - like many Seattleites, I have a favorite Thai place in just about every neighborhood.)

It had been raining most of the day - most of the week, actually. I'd worked too many night shifts to know what a normal sleep cycle felt like anymore, and had spent most of the day in bed developing that thick, musty, sleepy feeling. We walked through the ravine, breathing mist and evergreens, steadying each other down the steep, muddy stairs. Dinner was bright and tasty. How I love this part of a relationship - the introduction of my loves to my beloved. We've been trading favorite restaurants and stacks of books and music for weeks.

After dinner, the plan was to go home and start sorting through piles of junk in preparation for the big packing project, but SALM discovered a gift card to the bookstore in his wallet, and tempted me with a diversion. How could I say no?

It says something about us both that we almost immediately went to the children/young adult section. We browsed the aisles, pointing books out to one another, stepping over little kids and preteens, sprawled across the floor. Then SALM saw a graphic novel version of The Little Prince and picked it up, announcing "I think I need to read this right now." I grinned. And then he said "And I think you need to read this right now."

He had handed me a book. "Hereville: How Mika Got Her Sword" was the title. And, in smaller letters, just above it: "Yet Another Troll-Fighting 11-Year-Old Orthodox Jewish Girl."

I followed him to a carpeted spot between two giant wooden trees in the children's area, where we settled against the wall to begin reading. Soon, we were giggling, poking each other, pointing out great lines and images. "Hereville" is one of the only children's books I've ever seen that deals with Orthodox Judaism in a way that neither heroizes nor villianizes the culture and practices of observant Jews - rather establishes a kind of normality that shows the different oppressive and empowering parts of growing up in an Orthodox household. Mika, for example, is frustrated with her 14-year-old sister's constant moaning about finding a husband, but acknowledges that her sister's view isn't so different from the adults around her.

On the other hand, Mika's not-so-evil stepmother, Fruma, forces Mika to constantly argue both sides of any issue by playing devil's advocate at the drop of a hat. "You want to fight dragons?" she asks at one point. "How could you kill any of Hashem's creatures?" When Mika admits that Fruma has a point, Fruma then cries "You would let a dragon come to this town and eat your poor defenseless stepmother and do nothing?" Eventually, Mika becomes a skilled enough debater to - well, you'll find out what she does with it once you read it.

It was one of those books I finished with a laugh and sigh, and held close to my chest when I was done. And next to me, my Secret Agent Lover Man closed The Little Prince (one of his childhood favorites) and did the exact same thing. We looked at each other knowing there wasn't any other way we'd have rather spent the evening - and how so few of our friends would've felt the same way.

And that was magic.

Seattle 149, or Lacing Up My Traveling Boots

I know the saying doesn't go exactly like this, but sometimes, in the grayest parts of winter, a young poet's thoughts turn to getting the hell out of Dodge. This winter has brought a difficult mixture of delight and tsuris, often both in the same hour. This causes some serious mood whiplash, as you can imagine.

My dearly beloved home, the Ravenna Kibbutz, is shifting. All four of us in House Gimel are moving out on March 1st, and whether the organization will continue as just House Aleph (aka Beit Kayam aka Ecohouse) remains to be seen. Either way, it's most likely that my house will be gone and my community much dimished when I return.

Return from what, exactly?

Oh yes. Remember the part where last year, I nearly got my book published? And then found another publisher who would publish my book? Do you remember the part where that publishing company turned out to be a little meshuggah and threw me for a tailspin of doubts about whether the thing would be published at all, and I changed jobs and got three new housemates and a new interest of the romantic persuasion?

Oh, you say, it's apparently been awhile.

Here's the basics: I'm going on tour again, much like I did during the summer of '08. Except this time, when I return to Seattle, I'll have a whole lot more for when I left. Like a job. And friends. And the aforementioned interest, who has decided to take the name (for blogging purposes) of Secret Agent Lover Man. He is a captivating sort, and has proved himself to be a champion Scrabble player, a charmer of kids and babies, a voracious reader, and collector of jokes. These, among other qualities, present the makings of a damn good time.

Ah, but yes, touring. Buses and trains and hopefully, gigs. Would you like me to come read poems at your school/synagogue/church/youth group/living room? Do let me know. I'd love to stop by. The current plan looks like this:

Seattle, WA

Columbus, OH (the Women of the World Poetry Slam is a convenient launch point)

Pittsburgh, PA

Washington DC

Philadelphia, PA

Boston, MA

Northampton, MA

Various towns in Bergen County, NJ

...and from there, I've got at least another week free until Passover, which I will spend with my family before returning to Seattle by May 1.