I am currently involved in two online conversations. The first is about whether or not psychoanalysis and marxism are really "totalizing/totalitarian structures", the other is about female gaze and the word "poststructuralist" has come up more than once.
Someone, please tell me a fart joke, stat.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Sunday, March 18, 2007
One liner.
Last night, I had a dream that I had received a piece of mail that was supposed to go to Eddie Izzard, but couldn't return it because I had used the envelope to take some important notes.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Hope is Important.
I did something kind of ridiculous yesterday. I began to give into the West Coast. And it happened through shoes.
Before I moved to start camp, I had bought a pair of canvas Converse ballet flats and some thick padded insoles to signal my transition to a place where the sun always shines and precipitation is nothing but a distant memory. They weren't the prettiest shoes ever, nor were they the most comfortable, as somehow even a pair of Converses still managed to wear off the skin on the tops of my heels with intensity. But, you know, they eventually broke in, and were cosy and nondescript and went with everything. And it worked, until I realized last week that they had started looking really terrible, and that on the right shoe my pinky toe had actually worn through the canvas and was starting to make a break for freedom.
At first I thought, well hey, I'll just throw these shoes in the washer and sew up the hole and keep on going and everything will be fine. This is the kind of imaginary world I live in, one where someone with no actual sewing experience and a $4 sewing kit from CVS is magically able to mend any clothing she owns. Remind me to tell you later about the time I tried to hand-sew a hem on a pair of shorts 45 minutes before I had to be in class (well, I guess that's the whole story right there).
But instead of saving my earth-friendly sensible shoes, yesterday I stopped into a shoe store a few blocks from my apartment that was having a "Going out of Business Sale". And I ended up buying two pairs of shoes. Two pairs of shoes that will, much more clearly than everything I brought out here with me from Michigan, will never see ground that knows snow.
My favorite pair are red. Red! And pointy. And leather. And open to the elements. You can see toes and heel and top-of-feet and side-of-feet. And I bought them knowing I could wear them every day if I wanted to, just wear silly ridiculous impractical shoes around, shoes that will cause blisters and pinch toes, but make me happy to look at. Stupid, ridiculous, happy suntime fun shoes.
This is very much like my last haircut, at another place near campus and my cabinapartment. I went in asking for a trim, but began waxing poetic to my (awesomely Russian) hair stylist about my pixie cut of yore. She immediately made a disgusted face. "Oh no no, you are in LA now. In LA, they like style."
Of course, I thought it was funny when it happened. But guess who still has a big pile of heteronormative hair, and now wears girly shoes?
LA, you win this round.
Before I moved to start camp, I had bought a pair of canvas Converse ballet flats and some thick padded insoles to signal my transition to a place where the sun always shines and precipitation is nothing but a distant memory. They weren't the prettiest shoes ever, nor were they the most comfortable, as somehow even a pair of Converses still managed to wear off the skin on the tops of my heels with intensity. But, you know, they eventually broke in, and were cosy and nondescript and went with everything. And it worked, until I realized last week that they had started looking really terrible, and that on the right shoe my pinky toe had actually worn through the canvas and was starting to make a break for freedom.
At first I thought, well hey, I'll just throw these shoes in the washer and sew up the hole and keep on going and everything will be fine. This is the kind of imaginary world I live in, one where someone with no actual sewing experience and a $4 sewing kit from CVS is magically able to mend any clothing she owns. Remind me to tell you later about the time I tried to hand-sew a hem on a pair of shorts 45 minutes before I had to be in class (well, I guess that's the whole story right there).
But instead of saving my earth-friendly sensible shoes, yesterday I stopped into a shoe store a few blocks from my apartment that was having a "Going out of Business Sale". And I ended up buying two pairs of shoes. Two pairs of shoes that will, much more clearly than everything I brought out here with me from Michigan, will never see ground that knows snow.
My favorite pair are red. Red! And pointy. And leather. And open to the elements. You can see toes and heel and top-of-feet and side-of-feet. And I bought them knowing I could wear them every day if I wanted to, just wear silly ridiculous impractical shoes around, shoes that will cause blisters and pinch toes, but make me happy to look at. Stupid, ridiculous, happy suntime fun shoes.
This is very much like my last haircut, at another place near campus and my cabinapartment. I went in asking for a trim, but began waxing poetic to my (awesomely Russian) hair stylist about my pixie cut of yore. She immediately made a disgusted face. "Oh no no, you are in LA now. In LA, they like style."
Of course, I thought it was funny when it happened. But guess who still has a big pile of heteronormative hair, and now wears girly shoes?
LA, you win this round.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Anthems.
The song I posted below is one that, no matter how well I'm doing, always hits me -- when I hear it, I end up singing along ("Do you want to stay in bed all day?" YEAH!) and thinking, hey, depression in rock music! This is so totally right on -- I am in fact going to hide in my room during your party and fake sick because I don't want to be around people for the next year! Who knew, Le Tigre?
That isn't where I am right now, but mannnn, does it feel close.
I'm actually doing better in terms of makin' it on through the day, I think. I'm still in the cycle of procrastination/guilt/panic in terms of academic work, but the panic is a little better, and I'm doing a range of other things right. Making food at home, brewing my own coffee, drinking water. Talking to strangers at parties, just a little bit. I cleaned my stove and bought a bleach-y tank tab for my toilet, which makes my bathroom smell clean if nothing else. There's still a lot of mess (the carpet, for one, has not been vacuum'd since we moved in here), but...it's better. Right?
I've been thinking about this particularly, the "better-ness" of now, for the last day or so. Every so often I will get a lecture from a well-meaning friend about how I need to "live" my life. Usually this injunction is filled with vague suggestions of how I could be "living" more life -- meet more people! date! have sex with relative strangers and then kick them out of bed before the sun comes up! -- that don't really seem feasible or comfortable for me. There's the factor, of course, that I am scared of strange men and herpes and open sores and CATHOLIC GUILT DEAR GOD PLEASE STOP WATCHING ME. But the bigger issue is that, well, what am I supposed to do exactly?
The Amy Zone of Comfort is not a very inclusive space. Because of this, there are many places I can't meet new people.
1) Parties are out because of the parties I get invited to, I have already met everyone who will be in attendance. And by parties, I mean that one party, that happened that one time, and I think there were people there and also some delicious snacks. But the memory has definitely grown hazy.
2) Clubs are no. I think that's what people in this city do, get glammed up and go to clubs and dance with men wearing shiny shirts with the buttons halfway undone. This is a no because, among other things, I do not own any kind of sassy clothing. I don't think there's a halter top or a sequin in my entire sad wardrobe. You will find a nice collection of hoodies and hoodie-like garments, however.
3) The library is supposedly a place where young people who think they're smart meet other people who think they are also smart. But in the times I actually make it to the library, I have real work to do, and so does everyone around me, and no one looks happy enough to strike up a conversation.
4) Department functions. The only conversation opener I have for these kinds of things are "So, what field are you in?" and that usually runs short fast since the only field I know anything about is my own. Also, all the men are married, and even if they are cool, I am 110% sure you can't call a married dude to come hang out and watch a movie. I cannot make friends this way.
5) The bus. I get motion sickness. This is also out.
All I have found that this has left me is the internets. I tried this ploy out about a month ago, and you know what? This time it may have worked. Friday I may have made a friend. He's nice, and I like the way his pants fit. Some of you will know how important that is to me.
But, dear friends, what else should I be doing? Tell me all your secrets.
That isn't where I am right now, but mannnn, does it feel close.
I'm actually doing better in terms of makin' it on through the day, I think. I'm still in the cycle of procrastination/guilt/panic in terms of academic work, but the panic is a little better, and I'm doing a range of other things right. Making food at home, brewing my own coffee, drinking water. Talking to strangers at parties, just a little bit. I cleaned my stove and bought a bleach-y tank tab for my toilet, which makes my bathroom smell clean if nothing else. There's still a lot of mess (the carpet, for one, has not been vacuum'd since we moved in here), but...it's better. Right?
I've been thinking about this particularly, the "better-ness" of now, for the last day or so. Every so often I will get a lecture from a well-meaning friend about how I need to "live" my life. Usually this injunction is filled with vague suggestions of how I could be "living" more life -- meet more people! date! have sex with relative strangers and then kick them out of bed before the sun comes up! -- that don't really seem feasible or comfortable for me. There's the factor, of course, that I am scared of strange men and herpes and open sores and CATHOLIC GUILT DEAR GOD PLEASE STOP WATCHING ME. But the bigger issue is that, well, what am I supposed to do exactly?
The Amy Zone of Comfort is not a very inclusive space. Because of this, there are many places I can't meet new people.
1) Parties are out because of the parties I get invited to, I have already met everyone who will be in attendance. And by parties, I mean that one party, that happened that one time, and I think there were people there and also some delicious snacks. But the memory has definitely grown hazy.
2) Clubs are no. I think that's what people in this city do, get glammed up and go to clubs and dance with men wearing shiny shirts with the buttons halfway undone. This is a no because, among other things, I do not own any kind of sassy clothing. I don't think there's a halter top or a sequin in my entire sad wardrobe. You will find a nice collection of hoodies and hoodie-like garments, however.
3) The library is supposedly a place where young people who think they're smart meet other people who think they are also smart. But in the times I actually make it to the library, I have real work to do, and so does everyone around me, and no one looks happy enough to strike up a conversation.
4) Department functions. The only conversation opener I have for these kinds of things are "So, what field are you in?" and that usually runs short fast since the only field I know anything about is my own. Also, all the men are married, and even if they are cool, I am 110% sure you can't call a married dude to come hang out and watch a movie. I cannot make friends this way.
5) The bus. I get motion sickness. This is also out.
All I have found that this has left me is the internets. I tried this ploy out about a month ago, and you know what? This time it may have worked. Friday I may have made a friend. He's nice, and I like the way his pants fit. Some of you will know how important that is to me.
But, dear friends, what else should I be doing? Tell me all your secrets.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Real update later.
My mind's on rewind
And quicksand
(What?)
I was up all night doing nothing
(Last night? Again?)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
I musta been sleeping when you called
I'm not feeling well at all
Got this thing that's been going around called
Please pretend that I'm outta town
(OKAY?)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
I'll make some coffee
Put on some eyeliner
I think I'll find that things are fine
and they're gonna get much finer!
Hey look I'm really sorry
I couldn't make it to your party
I know it looks like I'm gonna cry
Got a to-do list behind my eyes so
Go tell your friends I'm still a feminist
But I won't be coming to your benefit
I give up
I give up
I give up
I give up
I give up
I'll be at home today.
Le Tigre, "Much Finer" (Feminist Sweepstakes)
And quicksand
(What?)
I was up all night doing nothing
(Last night? Again?)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
I musta been sleeping when you called
I'm not feeling well at all
Got this thing that's been going around called
Please pretend that I'm outta town
(OKAY?)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
Do you wanna stay in bed all day?
(Yeah!)
Do remember feeling any other way?
(No!)
I'll make some coffee
Put on some eyeliner
I think I'll find that things are fine
and they're gonna get much finer!
Hey look I'm really sorry
I couldn't make it to your party
I know it looks like I'm gonna cry
Got a to-do list behind my eyes so
Go tell your friends I'm still a feminist
But I won't be coming to your benefit
I give up
I give up
I give up
I give up
I give up
I'll be at home today.
Le Tigre, "Much Finer" (Feminist Sweepstakes)
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