Re: I Lie When I Say I Changed Your Name.

I'm going to be speaking to a college freshman English class this morning about why I'm a writer and not a teacher... you know, because when you have a degree in English, teaching seems to be the inevitable career step to make. I had been asked by a friend of a friend to give the talk a few weeks ago, and although I told him I was in no position to be giving any sort of career advice, he looked at me and said, "You're published, right?" "I guess so," was my response.

So I tortured myself endlessly over what I was going to say, how I was going to justify the reason I was there, then I had the most amazing three days:

- I was asked to write a weekly music column by an online indie publication. I even get to pick out a fancy title for my column, like "Blah Blah with Amanda Blah Blah or whatever."

- I received an email telling me that a story I had submitted to a well-respected (read: pretentious) quarterly will be printed in January. I'll be bragging about this one until the day I die.

- I was invited to be one of three writers reading at not one, but two Brooklyn bookstores in September that showcases up and coming writers.

- I received rave reviews for a piece I wrote on secret sex that was published yesterday, and the editor wants me to write a weekly "confessional" piece because it was so "relatable."

- I received back payment for several pieces I've written over the last few months... this will go straight into the Frye James Wingtip Oxford fund, as I'm pretty sure they will be a necessary item in my fall wardrobe.

If I believed in the placement of stars and the cosmic force of things of which I have zero control, I'd think that the planets are miraculously aligned and threw me a bone... or, if I was the cranky lil' shit I am, I'd say things are fucked up and this is fleeting... or maybe, just maybe, my time has come? Meh...

After my talk this morning, if I don't die from fright or embarrassment over pissing my paunts, my friend and I will load up the car and we'll head west to Big Sur. I've never been, but I have a feeling I might like it quite a bit.

Read: new Pomegranate Seeds: Limes... which was written while listening to "Re: Stacks" by Bon Iver on repeat for over an hour.

Listen: "Learning," by Perfume Genius.

xo.

Mandy.