So it happened again...

Here I am, once more, to apologize for not updating. I'm reasonably sure nobody reads my blog at this point, but I hope to start updating it more, even if only for myself. Here's some of what's happened in the last (sigh) two-and-a-half years or so since my previous post.

^ That's me, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on my first day of grad school

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I went through the rickety, poorly-maintained roller coaster of emotions that is the MFA application process. Nine rejections and six acceptances later (a list, for the curious), I ended up right down the road at Texas State University's fantastic MFA program. I quit my dead-end grocery store job and moved out of Austin for the first time in my entire life. Now, I'm here in San Marcos, and I'm the luckiest person in the program by far. I definitely don't deserve to be here with all of these brilliant, staggeringly talented writers, but I'm exactly where I want and need to be. I'm halfway through my second year (of three) in the poetry program and I couldn't be happier at any other school. I feel like we've built a family here. We're not completely drama-free, and we definitely have a few black sheep (some days, I'm pretty sure I'm one), but there's a lot of love here. At least, I think so. I'm having the best time time here, though I miss Austin and my friends and family there so much. It's only 30 miles away, but I don't have a car, and public transportation in Central Texas is notoriously lacking. I also might have developed a teensy bit of a drinking habit, but as anyone who's spent any time in this town will tell you, that sort of comes with the territory... Anywho, not much else to report at the moment.

^ Chalk-graffito at Texas State

I mostly returned to this blog in hopes that regular journaling might help me become a more disciplined writer, and maybe even a better person. I don't know how well I'll keep up with it, but this is a first step. I have a Lent "resolution" sort of post brewing in my mind, so hopefully I'll work that up soon. Until then, dear ones, be well. Thanks for reading, whoever you are.

Love y'all.

Timothy

Of Old Habits and New Places

Well, here we are again, my sincerely beloved public. I've very quickly descended once more into my terrible inability to keep up this blog. BUT NO MORE, I SAY! (I hope...) So, without further ado, here's the somewhat rushed but very belated post about The Transcontinental Grand Tour Extravaganza!

The trip was absolutely splendid. AJ and I had a great time. West Texas surprised us with the postcard beauty of the Guadalupe Mountains, which we never would have seen had our borrowed GPS not malfunctioned. New Mexico was nice. It reminded me of trips there with my family when I was younger. Except this time there were pushy border patrol agents for some reason. Moving on into Arizona, AJ and I entered the Grand Canyon State belting the chorus of what may well be Jamie O'Neal's greatest hit at the top of our lungs. Video evidence exists of this, but I don't think I want that to see the light of day.

But California! California was so much more wonderful than I could have imagined. Los Angeles was wild and weird and surreal. I encountered so many unbelievable people and so many compelling stories. My week in L.A. might have been the single most interesting week of my life. I wandered all over the city while AJ was off weaving words into literary gold at his retreat. Among the things I did: Lived in Hollywood (which, though perhaps misleading, is how I will always describe it). Went to Mass where Bing Crosby used to. Made a pilgrimage to some of the old stomping grounds of one of my favorite twentieth-century American poets, Charles Bukowski. Saw a Frank Lloyd Wright house. Met a very nice civil rights activist in front of a Chick-fil-A on Sunset Boulevard. Took way too many photos of those silly pink granite stars on the sidewalk. Went on a strange (and at least partially inaccurate) tour. Saw a bunch of houses that may or may not have belonged to celebrities. Bought the obligatory queer theory text at a bookshop in West Hollywood. Pretended I was a movie star on a stroll in Beverly Hills. Wandered into the establishing shots for some reality show on Rodeo Drive. Almost met Kat Von D. Got lost in Echo Park. Accidentally ate meat (I'm a vegetarian, for the record, but that menu was confusing). Took my first steps into the gorgeous Pacific. Got guilted into buying two expensive demo CDs on the Venice Boardwalk that I still haven't listened to...

Then AJ and I reunited and headed to San Francisco. I fell madly in love with that City by the Bay, and I was heartbroken that we only really got one day to spend there. Our introduction to the area was a brief wrong turn into a charming Italian cemetery in Colma (I like to think that my onetime mentor and adviser at St. Ed's, Doug Dorst, would be proud). Our first and only full day began with a foggy stroll across the Golden Gate Bridge, which has to be experienced for its magic to be even slightly understood. The sun came out as we crossed over into Marin County, and made for a very pleasant day. We met up with the ever-marvelous Chelsey Little, who showed us around The Mission and The Castro, and made us feel perfectly welcome. And then, just like that, we had to leave this bizarre fairytaleland of California. I don't think I'll ever run out of inspiration from that impossible place.

This was followed by an ill-advised, two-day bus ride from Tucson to Atlanta, spent sitting next to a young francophone man from (I think he said) Haiti, who continually borrowed my phone to call some relative(-in-law?) in Miami. The guy didn't speak English, but I happen to speak a moderate amount of French, so I ended up translating a lot. I eventually found myself having to explain basically everything to him, which stretched my French-speaking skills to the breaking point. By the time I got to Atlanta, I was so ready to speak my native tongue again.

My time in Georgia with family was long-overdue, and I can't wait to see them again. My father, Luis Valdés, recently published a book, and it was great catching up with him, my stepmother, my brother, and my sister. But this, like the rest of the trip, ended much too soon. So it was back to Austin and back to my day-job. I'll leave it there for now, but I'll be back very, very soon with another post. Till then, stay well, dear ones.

Next post: Of Literary Fulfillment!

Photos: Timothy Connor Dailey © 2012

"...be sure to wear some flowers in your hair."

"If you're going to San Francisco..."

This is, in part, an apology for absence. Every time I begin to keep a journal, whether on paper or in cyber-form, I always end up doing one of these.  I haven't updated this blog in over two years. So, you know, sorry for that.

This is also a brief overview of what I've been up to since then.

In May 2010, I graduated from St. Edward's University with a Bachelor of Arts in English Writing and Rhetoric with a Specialization in Creative Writing (In conversations with acquaintances, I usually just say I majored in English). Once the confetti cleared, I spent a mostly unproductive period trying to figure out what to do (well, that's basically the story of my life). That didn't work out too well this particular time, and I ended up moving back home with my parents. I found a job too, but that's all I have to say about that. I hate talking about it. Let's be honest: the only reason I care about being employed in the conventional sense is the avoidance of homelessness and starvation, and freedom to pursue truer passions. I'm sure plenty of you can relate. (If "plenty" of people even read this blog. Bless your heart if you do, and thank you!)

My eventual plan is to apply to MFA programs in creative writing. That has yet to happen for a number of reasons, but my writing is starting to move forward a bit. Some of my poetry got accepted by a literary journal, and I'm absolutely thrilled. It's a journal I greatly admire, published by an awesome press, and edited by one of the coolest people in the literary community. More on that as events unfold.

That brings me to this summer. AJ Reyes, my friend/partner-in-literary-crime, has been accepted as a Fellow to the 2012 Writers' Retreat for Emerging LGBT Voices in Los Angeles. We've made it the excuse for an ambitious summer road trip. My tim'rous bestie, Emma Kalmbach is also scheduled to appear on the trip's manifest. I can't wait! For me, it won't be just a fun vacation with good friends, though it will certainly be that as well. It'll also be a great opportunity to gain some inspiration and reconnect with my writing. The details are still sort of up in the air. We are reasonably sure we're visiting southeast New Mexico, tiny bits of Colorado and Utah, the Grand Canyon, L.A., and, the place I might be the most excited about, San Francisco. I don't know how accessible the Internet will be on this trip, but I plan on describing the whole thing here eventually (photos too!). I can't overstate how much I'm looking forward to this. I'm also planning on visiting my family in Atlanta this summer, which I'm also thrilled about, and haven't done in far too long.

Also, a few weeks back, my friend, fellow writer, and just overall marvelous human being Chelsey Little alerted me to a really cool project called 31 Plays in 31 Days. I couldn't pass it up, so that's my August. Check it out, and join in the awesome workfest, if, as the project website challenges, you're "playwright enough". :)

Here's to what promises to be an interesting and productive summer, Universe willing. One of my new-season's resolutions is to update this blog more frequently. Feel free to hold me to that. And feel free to make my life absolutely miserable if I don't follow through.

I love you people, and thank you, as always, for reading.

Slàinte,
Timothy

Fig. 1: A rough sketch of what my amazing summer is going to look like.

Whether to weather the weather

"...a little snow, tumbled about,

Anon becomes a mountain."

- Shakespeare, King John, 3.4.176-7

It's snowing here in Austin this morning. It's lovely and all, as you can see from this photo I took of the courtyard of my apartment complex. However, I have to hike twenty minutes through the woods to get to school (seriously). So I have to decide whether to suffer the fury of Old Man Winter, or stay in my warm, cozy apartment and work on the fifteen-pager that's due tomorrow. Maybe I'll flip a coin.

P.S. To any Yankees reading this, or any others for whom snow is a completely unremarkable event and who think I'm overreacting, kindly keep your snide comments to yourselves. Thanks! ♥

Ah, l'amour...

For this was Seynt Valentynes day, / Whan every foul cometh there to chese his make, / Of every kynde that men thynke may; / And that so huge a noyse gan they make / That erthe and eyr and tre and every lake / So ful was that unethe was there space / For me to stonde, so ful was al the place.

- Chaucer, Parlement of Foulys, 309-15, c. 1373

Here it is again. February 14th. Good old V-Day. And here I am, spending it alone, wallowing in self-pity. I ate a whole package of Thin Mints for Pete's sake. Well, knock-offs anyway. I usually don't care much about this holiday, with all its cutesy-pootsy plush novelties, its overpriced cards with pre-fab sentiments inside, its insistence that diamonds are the only true testament to romance. But for some reason, this year is different.

It doesn't help that most of my friends are in relationships. I know I'm fine being single, and that I'll get over it. But for some reason, it's really getting to me today.

You know, I thought that pilgrimage I made to the shrine of St. Valentine in Dublin would pay off. Maybe he thought I was too young at the time. I was just 13. Hmm, maybe I should go back. It'd be a good excuse for a vacation...

Wow, I sound a little crazy. I'll be fine tomorrow. No worries.

But I hope my prayer will get answered. Eventually.