doors, mystery writers, and staying in...

So I'm staying in tonight. I could go to a book signing and movie about East Lib (an adjacent neighborhood) (and I really do want to go, am a little sad that I'm not going) but I am exhausted. (And I need to pay bills and think about laundry and be an introvert.) On today, my day off, I went to the chiro, came home, worked on resume, went (late) to the treadmill lady (exercise study), missed appointment with potential new therapist (GAH), went to Ritters for lunch, let the waitress talk me into apple pie a la mode, ran (well, drove) home, changed, drove to the Oakmont Library for a reception for mystery writers (there is some festival in town and this "tea/reception" was for librarians.) I met many people, whose names are on bookmarks and postcards in my purse, but most notably Nancy Martin, who writes the Blackbird Sisters series. Which I can't remember if I wanted to continue reading (I read the first two.) Anyways, it was very cool conversing with her, and with the other writers and librarians there.

Talked to dad, drove to Squirrel Hill to buy bras, had a bus man's holiday in their local branch of the Carnegie, and in their books for sale found a book on women in therapy, where I found this wonderful poem:

Prospective Immigrants Please Note (by Adrienne Rich)

Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.

If you go through
there is always the risk
of remembering your name.

Things look at you doubly
and you must look back
and let them happen.

If you do not go through
it is possible
to live worthily

to maintain your attitudes
to hold your position
to die bravely

but much will blind you,
much will evade you,
at what cost who knows?

The door itself
makes no promises.
It is only a door.

Oh how I needed this poem, at the end of a busy day,
when I feel beleaguered
and exhausted and scared to death of transition.

But at the Oakmont Library, I picked up a copy of Raising Helen,
which I think
will raise my spirits. How I love Kate Hudson and John Corbett,
let me count
the ways...

Oh, and my printer, which was working on Friday, now is offline.
Nice. One
Kate Hudson movie, coming up.

I love that last bit. The door itself makes no promises. It is only a door.

Sorry if your RSS got three copies, adding the poem made for wierd space things...which I'm not fixing anymore if this has all the words visible.