What One Girl Knows

Vegetarian Indian restaurant tonight with Ben, Nina, and Nina's new boyfriend. Hope it's a good time. Back at Squirrel Hill, just to find out that Bathtub Gin isn't taking poetry submissions until June of next year! Which annoys me, because I wrote a really weird poem last night ("Nursery Rhymes in the Long Green," inspired by Frances Farmers' autobiography) that went well with the packet I wanted to send them. Also, Glimmertrain and One Story are still "in process" of reviewing "Bouquet." And -- I'm impatient.

At home we've been having a Tennessee Williams festival. A few weeks ago we watched Night of the Blue Iguana. Yesterday -- Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. And we borrowed Rose Tattoo from the library. I've learned bits and pieces about Williams' lives from the biographies I've been reading lately -- Carson McCullers and Truman Capote were both friends of his. Soon it might be time to actually read a biography about him.

The spinach rolls from the Turkish deli were good, but a tad dry. And for $1.25, I thought it might have a little more feta cheese.