The American Caliban (substitute) wrote,
The American Caliban

  • Mood:

Whoa. Blast from the past.

I was reminded of someone today I hadn't thought about in years. When I was a yuffie in L.A., maybe 1991 or so, I met this woman through friends. She was a little younger than me, maybe 21 to my 26, and she was a poet. She'd had some local success getting reading gigs, putting out a chapbook etc. We talked on the phone a bit and then hung out some, went to dinner. She appeared to lose interest in me as a friend as soon as it was clear we weren't going to be dating.

She was attractive in a number of ways: hyperintelligent, book-crazy, talkative. I was kind of sad to see her fade away. She was also a 21-year-old poet, so self-obsessed and nutty. I remember talking to her about the UCI writing program, because my dad was just retiring from teaching in it.

So I hadn't thought about her forever, and then the subject of the dreariness of rural Illinois came up, which is where she was from. And I googled her. Holy cats, she's a professor in England now! She also has some poetry online at the Shearsman site here and also here.

Still cute too. :) Glad she made a living out of it. The soybean harvest didn't sound fun.
Tags: friends, personalhistory, poetry, tag
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