Job search and Crane

Hello girls,

how’ve you been?

I’m good,

thanks for asking

🙂

I’ve started applying for jobs,

as I mentioned,

in an earlier post,

and,

this morning

I had my first telephone interview.

I didn’t have time to be nervous,

I didn’t know it was coming.

I think it went well,

but,

since,

I spend my life,

second guessing myself,

I have a little bit of doubt,

doubt,

in smidgen doses

I believe,

is important,

keeps you on your toes,

keeps you real,

keeps you plugging away,

I think it does

??

😛

It’s a new world for me,

the sending of resumes,

via email,

and,

selling myself,

I haven’t looked for a job,

in twenty years,

things change.

But, giving good service,

hasn’t changed,

you listen,

you’re polite,

you smile,

yes, you can smile on the telephone

you know your product,

you care,

cornerstones,

of service.

I thought it was a bad idea,

to go back into a,

corporate,

environment,

but,

they aren’t all the same,

gotta pick the right one,

I guess.

I had a good feeling,

during the call,

and,

I wasn’t nervous,

no warning will do that,

I was me,

hopefully,

me,

is what they are looking for

🙂

fingers crossed and send me some good vibes,

please.

*****

I’m slowly making my way,

through a book,

I picked up at the queer book fair.

A most charming bookseller,

from Toronto,

had a nice table,

of vintage gay reads,

some,

pulpish,

some,

canonical,

lots of first editions,

which I couldn’t really,

afford,

and,

honestly,

I don’t have the,

cult attitude,

towards first editions.

I like to read,

I like nice ‘readable’ editions,

I don’t collect for value,

I collect to read and to enjoy,

I have a few first editions,

but,

I don’t seek them out,

sorry I digress

😛

all this to say,

I picked up,

a nice academic paper edition,

of Hart Crane’s letters.

I like books of correspondence,

very much,

and I like Hart Crane.

A poet born in Cleveland,

who spent the better part,

of his life in New York.

He died a young and tragic death,

drowned,

suicide?

accident?

no one is really sure.

His letters are fascinating,

because he knew so many,

of the literary types,

of the time,

and,

he was a bit of a bitch.

An out homosexual,

well,  as out as one could be, in the twenties,

he was a tortured,

and slightly,

neurotic man,

I mentioned he was a poet, right?

I’m taking my time,

savouring,

and,

afterwards,

I think I’ll go back and read,

some of his poetry.

I’m interested in Crane,

for the period,

(1916-1932)

and,

because he wrote about,

what I consider,

the most beautiful,

of man made structures,

The Brooklyn Bridge.

I’ll keep you posted,

be well,

and,

take care of yourselves.

Later girls,

BB

 

Published by

Bookish Butch

I am a bookish butch in my very early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream

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