Today was last swim for Early Bird Lap Swim at the public pool. Sigh.... Some of us--who shall be known as Pixie, Julie, Dave, and Moi--met at Denny's for breakfast afterwards, in my case obliterating the good effects of swimming by eating Strawberry Cheesecake Pancake Puppies.
Don't ask me for an image. I would salivate all over again. Let's just say it's like a French Toast Fantasy. Henceforth, only a fantasy.
And that's not me. Not even the fantasy me. That's Cybill Shepherd from The Last Picture Show (film) and Pulp International (website). The film is based on a semi-autobiographical novel by Larry McMurtry. I have not read it but can probably find it at the library or on my parents' bookshelf if I need it. Maybe I have read it, but it would mean something different second time around.
I do have a black swimsuit, but, with Last Swim swum, I am throwing it out, because it is disintegrating. It lasted for two good years in chlorine! I think I will finally throw out all my old emergency-reserve-partly-disintegrating swimsuits in a flurry of late-summer cleaning activity to encourage the purchase of a new non-disintegrating swimsuit at an end-of-summer swimsuit sale.
I will save at least one. It shall be called Last Swimsuit.
"You must change your life," said Rilke. So that's what I keep doing. I worked as an actor and director in Chicago, wrote for an encyclopedia, edited two poetry journals, shelved and retrieved materials in several libraries, walked beans, and was an assistant professor of English. Now I serve as Poetry Editor and Editor at Large for Escape Into Life, an online arts magazine, write & edit as a freelancer, blog "eight days a week," study the random, tend perennials, and listen to birdsong.