Today I had one of those awesome moments of clarity that allow me to pretend for 10 months of the year that I secretly enjoy the end of the semester. I still have 17-20 pages to write, but I can see the entire path now, all the way to the end. I know where I'm going. It came late this term, but damn it still feels good.
I also discovered that Mike's syllabus requests a "20 to 30" page paper rather than 25 pages, as everyone's somehow come to believe. This was a joyous discovery, and led directly to the aforementioned flash of insight.
I will finish. There will be a life after this semester. It sounds stupid, but it's like driving in a lot of fog - everything feels less oppressively endless if you can see where you're headed.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
[sings] "99 Horrible Tasks on My List, 99 Horrible Tasks..."
Take a few down, deal with their shit, still plenty of horrible tasks on the wall!
So I finally "[went] to the motherfucking bank like an ADULT," as Ali of hyperboleandahalf would say, and (surprise surprise) it turned out to be relatively painless. To my delight, my first instinct about the mystery charges proved correct - they were not mine. Apparently sometimes banks make adorable little "keying errors" and clear checks from your account that were not in fact written by you. This is what happened to me, leading to overdraft charges and overdue payments for those charges...but while it was a bit time-consuming, the man who helped me was very nice and dismissed all the charges, so I will not in fact have to ride my bike home for Christmas. (I did think he should have been a bit more apologetic, though - I mean, the name on the check was "Dominic Daniels" or something, pretty clearly not me.)
I also managed to get some smaller-scale things done today despite having very fragmented time chunks, something I don't usually excel at. I read the relevant essays out of a book I just got for papers, wrote up feedback on 4 of 5 student presentations from yesterday, wrote my WC records for tonight (it's slow)...not too bad. When I get home I will endeavor to write up the last presentation response, then go to sleep because damn I've been staying up too late.
So several major stresses are dealt with now, leaving me that much more energy for paper-writing goodness. I might even be able to get into a groove this weekend where I can enjoy the process a little. We shall see.
So I finally "[went] to the motherfucking bank like an ADULT," as Ali of hyperboleandahalf would say, and (surprise surprise) it turned out to be relatively painless. To my delight, my first instinct about the mystery charges proved correct - they were not mine. Apparently sometimes banks make adorable little "keying errors" and clear checks from your account that were not in fact written by you. This is what happened to me, leading to overdraft charges and overdue payments for those charges...but while it was a bit time-consuming, the man who helped me was very nice and dismissed all the charges, so I will not in fact have to ride my bike home for Christmas. (I did think he should have been a bit more apologetic, though - I mean, the name on the check was "Dominic Daniels" or something, pretty clearly not me.)
I also managed to get some smaller-scale things done today despite having very fragmented time chunks, something I don't usually excel at. I read the relevant essays out of a book I just got for papers, wrote up feedback on 4 of 5 student presentations from yesterday, wrote my WC records for tonight (it's slow)...not too bad. When I get home I will endeavor to write up the last presentation response, then go to sleep because damn I've been staying up too late.
So several major stresses are dealt with now, leaving me that much more energy for paper-writing goodness. I might even be able to get into a groove this weekend where I can enjoy the process a little. We shall see.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
[sings] "I Saw Five Hundred Thousand Tasks Come Sailing In, Come Sailing In, Come Sailing in..."
- Just cited my professor in the paper I'm writing for him. Here's hoping I'm correct in thinking his is not one of the articles I grossly misrepresented in my annotated bibliography, since I pulled the text from there...
- I fucking hate not having a parking space. I've literally paid more in tickets than I would have to get a spot. I need to do something about this. Anyone have a driveway/garage spot I can rent for the winter? (Bonus points if I can pay in cookies, hugs or stimulating discourse on visual rhetoric.)
- So while I'm slowly working to distance myself from my self-assigned title as the Worst Graduate Student of All Time, I'm falling deeper and deeper into the pit of being the Worst Adult of All Time. See: unpaid parking tickets, unspeakably stressful UW Credit Union debaucle, failure to have bought AN single Christmas gift, the fact that upon waking this morning and realizing I had eaten the last of my Candy Cane Kisses my first thought was "dammit, what the hell am I going to eat for breakfast now?", etc.
- I have still not watched the film upon which the bulk of my aforementioned paper's argument will rest. My draft currently starts with "[insert stuff about the scene where he walks btwn Towers here.]" That scene is the basis of my whole case.
- I discovered that Penny's recent gastric distress was almost certainly due to her new habit of eating my hair elastics. Guess that's a good reason to follow through on my constant resolutions to stop leaving them all over the house.
- It's been a year since I wrote a long paper so I might simply be forgetting (altering my own memory of the historical narrative, if you will - which you shouldn't), but I do not recall having this much trouble organizing the initial presentation of my idea. Sheesh. Turns out situating yourself in a scholarly context is complicated. Yeesh.
- [A bit later:] ...okay. I might have dramatically underestimated what I have to say for Mike. For the first time EVER, I think I have too much theory and context to present and not enough of my own ideas. I might not have to come up with a new argument for Christa - I might just split the idea further and make Mike's paper entirely about framing the kind of images I'm looking at and Christa's entirely about Man on Wire and what it's doing with 9/11. Maybe. Because I am looking at some serious length issues here.
Fucking ideas. And standards. Bah. I'm going to Woodman's.
(A second later - How is all that typing only 2 pages long???????)
- I fucking hate not having a parking space. I've literally paid more in tickets than I would have to get a spot. I need to do something about this. Anyone have a driveway/garage spot I can rent for the winter? (Bonus points if I can pay in cookies, hugs or stimulating discourse on visual rhetoric.)
- So while I'm slowly working to distance myself from my self-assigned title as the Worst Graduate Student of All Time, I'm falling deeper and deeper into the pit of being the Worst Adult of All Time. See: unpaid parking tickets, unspeakably stressful UW Credit Union debaucle, failure to have bought AN single Christmas gift, the fact that upon waking this morning and realizing I had eaten the last of my Candy Cane Kisses my first thought was "dammit, what the hell am I going to eat for breakfast now?", etc.
- I have still not watched the film upon which the bulk of my aforementioned paper's argument will rest. My draft currently starts with "[insert stuff about the scene where he walks btwn Towers here.]" That scene is the basis of my whole case.
- I discovered that Penny's recent gastric distress was almost certainly due to her new habit of eating my hair elastics. Guess that's a good reason to follow through on my constant resolutions to stop leaving them all over the house.
- It's been a year since I wrote a long paper so I might simply be forgetting (altering my own memory of the historical narrative, if you will - which you shouldn't), but I do not recall having this much trouble organizing the initial presentation of my idea. Sheesh. Turns out situating yourself in a scholarly context is complicated. Yeesh.
- [A bit later:] ...okay. I might have dramatically underestimated what I have to say for Mike. For the first time EVER, I think I have too much theory and context to present and not enough of my own ideas. I might not have to come up with a new argument for Christa - I might just split the idea further and make Mike's paper entirely about framing the kind of images I'm looking at and Christa's entirely about Man on Wire and what it's doing with 9/11. Maybe. Because I am looking at some serious length issues here.
Fucking ideas. And standards. Bah. I'm going to Woodman's.
(A second later - How is all that typing only 2 pages long???????)
Thursday, December 2, 2010
It's the Most Christmasy Time of the Year!
Alright. As of 7:32 CST today, Becca's Christmas season has officially begun - I'm listening to "All I Want for Christmas is You" for the first time this year.
(Aside - in addition to starting my season, this song also reminds me of Ryan Whalen, and how he once put this song on at a party at his place in like, mid-October or something, and we all went insane and danced and sang our faces off because it was the Best Idea Ever.)
(Aside - in addition to starting my season, this song also reminds me of Ryan Whalen, and how he once put this song on at a party at his place in like, mid-October or something, and we all went insane and danced and sang our faces off because it was the Best Idea Ever.)
Thursday, November 18, 2010
It's a bird, it's a place, it's A GRADUATE STUDENT!
So now it's 11/16 and I'm STILL furiously annotating - while also grading second portfolios, trying to avoid a major Teaching Fail in these final weeks, and living on almost literally nothing. Seriously, I need to go through the month's expenses with a comb next week because I have *no* idea how this check went so fast. I mean, that's not true - it was overpriced wine, eating out and Chicago. But still.
And now - Superpowers I currently wish I had:
The Power to Stop Polo Overturning his Water Glass! Weak start, I know. But it's driving me insane. Background - the two of them have always loved drinking out of people cups. I don't really understand the allure it holds for them, and it appears to be independent of cleanliness; no matter how clean and new the water in their bowl and how old the water in the glass, they go for the glass every time. They've broken a good number of them this way, by knocking them off tables and such while trying to stick their heads down far enough to get to the liquid. So a few weeks ago, I decided to stop fighting it and give them their own "cat glass." (Really what happened was that I left a pint glass of water on the floor and they practically danced a jig around it every time I was in the room, so I decided to just let things take their course.) I top it off whenever I think of it, they stay better hydrated, we all win. Except that Polo cannot stop knocking the fucking thing over. Not once in the first two weeks, but now it's like, every day. And I don't understand it at all. I've seen it happen enough to have a decent sense of it - he drinks, stops, bats at the glass with a (huge, huge) paw, drinks some more, bats some more, until BOOM! it tips. And somehow he's surprised. I have no clue why he keeps doing it - I'm leaning towards a theory that he's got depth perception issues like that dog in Clean Slate, but that would make his uncanny ability to jump onto crowded side tables without knocking shit over a legit superpower on its own, so who knows. But it's getting old.
The power to shake my students just shy of silly with my MIND! This isn't a unique wish. And a lot of them are doing great - honestly, it's probably more me than them. But come the fuck on, guys. We're in this together. It's an odd group - the majority of them are really great, unique, interesting people, but somehow there is *no* sense of community, all very fragmented and kind of "..."
The power to not be such a pushover in regards to my personal life! Awhile back, I realized dragging myself through a fog of misery created by my inability to stop hoping things with Cesco would somehow work out was probably not very good for me, and took the shockingly proactive step of cutting him out of my life entirely. He was not a huge fan of this, but I thought I'd been clear it was really best for me. And yet magically here we are six weeks later with me helping him revise his CV and essays for grad school applications. I suppose it's not, you know, shocking that I would do this; Brad's training has reduced(/elevated, depending on the day) me to the point where I have an almost Pavlovian response to people who are writing applications for anything - I'm like the Lassie of writing tasks. Plus Lord knows I'd like to see him once again living 800+ miles away from me. But I'm still kind of at a loss as to how he wrangled me from complete radio silence into exchanging lighthearted CV-themed banter within the space of less than a week. To channel Ron Burgundy - I'm not even mad I'm just impressed. Mad will come when I read his personal statement and realize all over again how much the universe conspired to fuck me over on this one, but even then it will be largely channeled at myself. It's the painfully ironic romantic clusterfuck that just keeps on giving, I guess.
The power to make money appear in my checking account! I literally cannot patronize any of the seven hundred-odd Madison establishments that only take cash because I have a balance of 5.92. It's just wins all around for me right now. Christ.
The power to go back in time and sign Leigh and I up for presentation dates that aren't December 1st! I'm sorry, but asking me to give an even vaguely formal presentation about my final paper three full weeks before said paper is due is just ridiculous and unreasonable. It's asking us all to engage in a collective act of fantasy - Mike will pretend it's sane and logical to ask us to present work that clearly, absolutely does not exist yet, I will pretend that what I'm saying actually forms part of some existing seminar paper-esque piece of work, and my classmates will pretend they care. It's just pure farce designed to put me in my grave early and ensure that stress makes me as annoyed by and annoying to my family over Thanksgiving as possible.
The power to remember where I'm allowed to park my car on a given day! Seriously Madison, what the fuck is up with your parking regulations? Come on. Though I've discovered that the alternate-side thing may not be as awful as I'd expected - but it's still annoying.
And now - Superpowers I currently wish I had:
The Power to Stop Polo Overturning his Water Glass! Weak start, I know. But it's driving me insane. Background - the two of them have always loved drinking out of people cups. I don't really understand the allure it holds for them, and it appears to be independent of cleanliness; no matter how clean and new the water in their bowl and how old the water in the glass, they go for the glass every time. They've broken a good number of them this way, by knocking them off tables and such while trying to stick their heads down far enough to get to the liquid. So a few weeks ago, I decided to stop fighting it and give them their own "cat glass." (Really what happened was that I left a pint glass of water on the floor and they practically danced a jig around it every time I was in the room, so I decided to just let things take their course.) I top it off whenever I think of it, they stay better hydrated, we all win. Except that Polo cannot stop knocking the fucking thing over. Not once in the first two weeks, but now it's like, every day. And I don't understand it at all. I've seen it happen enough to have a decent sense of it - he drinks, stops, bats at the glass with a (huge, huge) paw, drinks some more, bats some more, until BOOM! it tips. And somehow he's surprised. I have no clue why he keeps doing it - I'm leaning towards a theory that he's got depth perception issues like that dog in Clean Slate, but that would make his uncanny ability to jump onto crowded side tables without knocking shit over a legit superpower on its own, so who knows. But it's getting old.
The power to shake my students just shy of silly with my MIND! This isn't a unique wish. And a lot of them are doing great - honestly, it's probably more me than them. But come the fuck on, guys. We're in this together. It's an odd group - the majority of them are really great, unique, interesting people, but somehow there is *no* sense of community, all very fragmented and kind of "..."
The power to not be such a pushover in regards to my personal life! Awhile back, I realized dragging myself through a fog of misery created by my inability to stop hoping things with Cesco would somehow work out was probably not very good for me, and took the shockingly proactive step of cutting him out of my life entirely. He was not a huge fan of this, but I thought I'd been clear it was really best for me. And yet magically here we are six weeks later with me helping him revise his CV and essays for grad school applications. I suppose it's not, you know, shocking that I would do this; Brad's training has reduced(/elevated, depending on the day) me to the point where I have an almost Pavlovian response to people who are writing applications for anything - I'm like the Lassie of writing tasks. Plus Lord knows I'd like to see him once again living 800+ miles away from me. But I'm still kind of at a loss as to how he wrangled me from complete radio silence into exchanging lighthearted CV-themed banter within the space of less than a week. To channel Ron Burgundy - I'm not even mad I'm just impressed. Mad will come when I read his personal statement and realize all over again how much the universe conspired to fuck me over on this one, but even then it will be largely channeled at myself. It's the painfully ironic romantic clusterfuck that just keeps on giving, I guess.
The power to make money appear in my checking account! I literally cannot patronize any of the seven hundred-odd Madison establishments that only take cash because I have a balance of 5.92. It's just wins all around for me right now. Christ.
The power to go back in time and sign Leigh and I up for presentation dates that aren't December 1st! I'm sorry, but asking me to give an even vaguely formal presentation about my final paper three full weeks before said paper is due is just ridiculous and unreasonable. It's asking us all to engage in a collective act of fantasy - Mike will pretend it's sane and logical to ask us to present work that clearly, absolutely does not exist yet, I will pretend that what I'm saying actually forms part of some existing seminar paper-esque piece of work, and my classmates will pretend they care. It's just pure farce designed to put me in my grave early and ensure that stress makes me as annoyed by and annoying to my family over Thanksgiving as possible.
The power to remember where I'm allowed to park my car on a given day! Seriously Madison, what the fuck is up with your parking regulations? Come on. Though I've discovered that the alternate-side thing may not be as awful as I'd expected - but it's still annoying.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Maybe I should ditch this little white rental on the interstate
[Note: Started this like over a week ago. Oh Becca - can't even finish blog posts on time.]
Oh man. My life may have highs and lows in terms of interest/enjoyment level, but it's alllll maxed out for sheer content. Yikes. Daylight savings has begun - and as always, this is when the semester kicks it up a notch.
Not all in a bad way though. The trip to Chicago for Ben Folds with Nora and Nathan was pretty epic, and worth the effort that went into the planning. We made good travel partners - nice, easy dynamics, and the best parts of traveling with three people. Three's tough sometimes - we all know the adage - but I think that when the balance is even among the three people, without one dramatically stronger or weaker bond, it's pretty much the ideal group size, especially for small experience-based trips. Five's getting unwieldy, and you won't get to talk to everyone, and everyone ends up feeling like they missed something. Four inevitably becomes two groups of two. But we made a good trio.
There may have been a bit of confusion arriving in the city (Becca forgetting where the directions she printed actually took us, parking on the wrong 300 block of Ohio and consequently forfeiting $14 for parking). But there was tasty Indian food for dinner, and a great show. It's funny...seeing a Ben Folds show isn't quite like seeing other people I really like. It's in part because his body of work is so huge that you don't go in hoping for one particular favorite, since A) you likely have too many to pick and B) it's hopeless. Yet you can depend on hearing a good chunk of the classics - all of the big ones post-Suburbs, really, at this show. The nostalgia factor is really what makes the magic though. Like most people there, I've been listening to Ben Folds since before I could drive. And then once I could, it was Rocking the Suburbs in my jury-rigged stereo. I (or rather, the audience) am on the cover of his live album giving him the finger. Three of his songs have served as crutches during breakups over the years. And now he's partnered with my favorite author on the latest addition to the canon. He looms large for me. And though we've all got different Foldsian narratives, it's the same for everyone. Maybe you love his songs because you've been fired, had an abortion, been advised not to join the armed forces by a parent, had a friend take a shitton of acid and spontaneously convert to Baptism. Or maybe not. But we've all been in love, all been dumped, all found life incredibly nonsensical yet moving at some point or another, and at a good number of those points Ben Folds provided the soundtrack. So when you see him play...it's not so much about that specific show as it is with other bands.
Which meant I wasn't phased by some of the technical fuckups (nothing terrible, but limited how well his voice came through sometimes), or the fact that it's clearly unnatural and (at least now, at the tour's outset) somewhat tough for him to sing words someone else wrote. It was still awesome. And of course not everyone was quarter-lifers like the three of us. I saw some snowy peaks in there, and the guy behind us was practically a child. (His face when Ben played "Underground" in the encore was priceless...he was like, "what is this and why the hell is it being played where a major hit should go?") Not a huge crowd for the venue, which meant all was civil and we had a good view. And I was reminded why I always make the New Year's resolution to see more concerts: it's because they're awesome.
Post-show we hit up the Violet Hour, a lounge/bar that in daily life would be far too swank for me but is perfect for occasional drop-ins and makes me feel cool, because apparently anyone who's got taste remotely like mine has been to and loved it. I'd been once before with Maeve and Co., right at the end of MA spring, and while I had a great time, the fact that I was coming off a major life change or two and miiiight have been dressed like an elementary school teacher kind of limited the magic.
We had to wait about half an hour to get in, which wasn't unexpected - but I'd forgotten the way lines like that, even ones consisting of groups, tend to wait in relative silence. I hate that - not that that'll be a surprise to anyone. It's boring, and in addition we were all in danger of sobering up and falling asleep, which would have been tragic. So we all rose to the occasion and played 20-odd minutes of "Kill, Marry, Fuck" at a quiet but not inaudible volume while waiting for admission into a major Chicago hot spot. (The looks we got from both the couple behind us and the host when we turned to theorist groupings were truly priceless.) Once inside, we settled into a lively conversation that covered everything from Marxist theory (naturally, with Nora there) to 9/11 to college hijinx. We also consumed some of the best cocktails it's ever been my privilege to drink. And I might have made us do whiskey shots. We ended up more or less closing the place out, then catching a cab (such luxury! I'm going to be living on Ramen for the rest of the month) (not like I wouldn't have been anyhow) back to the hotel and crashing immediately despite Nathan and I's intentions to catch Nora up on some major YouTube classics.
Woke up a bit worse for wear, Nathan drove us home, he and I are obsessed with the a cappella version of "Effington," we stopped at a creepily middle-America Dairy Queen in Janesville, all crashed when we got back to our homes. Great weekend. It reminded me that adventures can actually be better now that I'm old.
And then of course despite being certain I'd be too busy and tired to go out Sat night, I ended up at the Mason with the larger gang until 2:30. And regretted it not at all. I'm a lucky girl in my friends.
I did manage, through what feels like Herculean effort on my part but was probably just reasonably Fear-motivated catch-up, to finish my entire academic to-do list for the weekend. Of course, I wrote it with an eye to making it modest and actually doable given my plans, but still. Small victories and all. It's going to be a rough week until Wed is over, then will just be the usual "OMG it's mid-November fuck"-style week. Things are both helped and hindered by the fact that I'm incredibly excited about my VisRhet final paper - I just want to work on it. But of course I have no time to do so - or rather, what time I might be able to scrape up is needed for the 25-source annotated bibliography detailing not my research for the paper but "the conversation" I'm entering. Yes this is good for me blah blah, but it can't help but feel chafing when all I want to do is run with my topic.
----------
Oh man. My life may have highs and lows in terms of interest/enjoyment level, but it's alllll maxed out for sheer content. Yikes. Daylight savings has begun - and as always, this is when the semester kicks it up a notch.
Not all in a bad way though. The trip to Chicago for Ben Folds with Nora and Nathan was pretty epic, and worth the effort that went into the planning. We made good travel partners - nice, easy dynamics, and the best parts of traveling with three people. Three's tough sometimes - we all know the adage - but I think that when the balance is even among the three people, without one dramatically stronger or weaker bond, it's pretty much the ideal group size, especially for small experience-based trips. Five's getting unwieldy, and you won't get to talk to everyone, and everyone ends up feeling like they missed something. Four inevitably becomes two groups of two. But we made a good trio.
There may have been a bit of confusion arriving in the city (Becca forgetting where the directions she printed actually took us, parking on the wrong 300 block of Ohio and consequently forfeiting $14 for parking). But there was tasty Indian food for dinner, and a great show. It's funny...seeing a Ben Folds show isn't quite like seeing other people I really like. It's in part because his body of work is so huge that you don't go in hoping for one particular favorite, since A) you likely have too many to pick and B) it's hopeless. Yet you can depend on hearing a good chunk of the classics - all of the big ones post-Suburbs, really, at this show. The nostalgia factor is really what makes the magic though. Like most people there, I've been listening to Ben Folds since before I could drive. And then once I could, it was Rocking the Suburbs in my jury-rigged stereo. I (or rather, the audience) am on the cover of his live album giving him the finger. Three of his songs have served as crutches during breakups over the years. And now he's partnered with my favorite author on the latest addition to the canon. He looms large for me. And though we've all got different Foldsian narratives, it's the same for everyone. Maybe you love his songs because you've been fired, had an abortion, been advised not to join the armed forces by a parent, had a friend take a shitton of acid and spontaneously convert to Baptism. Or maybe not. But we've all been in love, all been dumped, all found life incredibly nonsensical yet moving at some point or another, and at a good number of those points Ben Folds provided the soundtrack. So when you see him play...it's not so much about that specific show as it is with other bands.
Which meant I wasn't phased by some of the technical fuckups (nothing terrible, but limited how well his voice came through sometimes), or the fact that it's clearly unnatural and (at least now, at the tour's outset) somewhat tough for him to sing words someone else wrote. It was still awesome. And of course not everyone was quarter-lifers like the three of us. I saw some snowy peaks in there, and the guy behind us was practically a child. (His face when Ben played "Underground" in the encore was priceless...he was like, "what is this and why the hell is it being played where a major hit should go?") Not a huge crowd for the venue, which meant all was civil and we had a good view. And I was reminded why I always make the New Year's resolution to see more concerts: it's because they're awesome.
Post-show we hit up the Violet Hour, a lounge/bar that in daily life would be far too swank for me but is perfect for occasional drop-ins and makes me feel cool, because apparently anyone who's got taste remotely like mine has been to and loved it. I'd been once before with Maeve and Co., right at the end of MA spring, and while I had a great time, the fact that I was coming off a major life change or two and miiiight have been dressed like an elementary school teacher kind of limited the magic.
We had to wait about half an hour to get in, which wasn't unexpected - but I'd forgotten the way lines like that, even ones consisting of groups, tend to wait in relative silence. I hate that - not that that'll be a surprise to anyone. It's boring, and in addition we were all in danger of sobering up and falling asleep, which would have been tragic. So we all rose to the occasion and played 20-odd minutes of "Kill, Marry, Fuck" at a quiet but not inaudible volume while waiting for admission into a major Chicago hot spot. (The looks we got from both the couple behind us and the host when we turned to theorist groupings were truly priceless.) Once inside, we settled into a lively conversation that covered everything from Marxist theory (naturally, with Nora there) to 9/11 to college hijinx. We also consumed some of the best cocktails it's ever been my privilege to drink. And I might have made us do whiskey shots. We ended up more or less closing the place out, then catching a cab (such luxury! I'm going to be living on Ramen for the rest of the month) (not like I wouldn't have been anyhow) back to the hotel and crashing immediately despite Nathan and I's intentions to catch Nora up on some major YouTube classics.
Woke up a bit worse for wear, Nathan drove us home, he and I are obsessed with the a cappella version of "Effington," we stopped at a creepily middle-America Dairy Queen in Janesville, all crashed when we got back to our homes. Great weekend. It reminded me that adventures can actually be better now that I'm old.
And then of course despite being certain I'd be too busy and tired to go out Sat night, I ended up at the Mason with the larger gang until 2:30. And regretted it not at all. I'm a lucky girl in my friends.
I did manage, through what feels like Herculean effort on my part but was probably just reasonably Fear-motivated catch-up, to finish my entire academic to-do list for the weekend. Of course, I wrote it with an eye to making it modest and actually doable given my plans, but still. Small victories and all. It's going to be a rough week until Wed is over, then will just be the usual "OMG it's mid-November fuck"-style week. Things are both helped and hindered by the fact that I'm incredibly excited about my VisRhet final paper - I just want to work on it. But of course I have no time to do so - or rather, what time I might be able to scrape up is needed for the 25-source annotated bibliography detailing not my research for the paper but "the conversation" I'm entering. Yes this is good for me blah blah, but it can't help but feel chafing when all I want to do is run with my topic.
----------
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Lucky Guy
Turns out Dexter is a much better fit for my current mood than Community, funny as that show may be. See, Community is too relatable and too alarming - too many jokes about Britta being old, the charms of sexual tension, the joy of a life where getting a D in Spanish is your biggest concern. Dexter though - it works. It's unrealistic in just the right way, takes place in a setting I've visited but never known, and revolves around a dude with no feelings - exactly the quality in which I desire lessons! I tip my hat to you, Showtime. Way to come through.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Well this is surprising
I'm proud of myself.
This isn't something I find myself noticing all that often anyhow, but the fact that I'm feeling that despite having spent most of yesterday eating three days' worth of food while watching 20 episodes of Community is especially surprising. (And I wish I was exaggerating either of those numbers, but I am sadly not.)
I'm not doing perfectly. I still sleep too much, watch too much TV, drink too much, don't read enough for class, never cook. And that all gets me down a lot, because I know I'm capable of doing better than I have been. I can take better care of myself, work harder, make more adult decisions (in quality and quantity). And that's all still true now, at the end of this week.
But things are looking up all the same. I worked out twice, I started really thinking about final papers, I went and talked to someone about my teaching insecurities, I drank less. And I made an very difficult decision about my personal life and stuck to it - even under duress. I also mailed back an RSVP card the day I got it. That's big.
What I need to remember is that I'll never be doing everything perfectly. So what's important to notice is the improvements I *am* making, the good things I find ways to do anyhow. People close to me have been telling me this for a few years now, but I'm starting to believe that I really can frequently be too hard on myself. But it's important to give myself credit for the things I accomplish, however small - because if not, that's how I end up believing I can't do anything.
I actually had a nightmare the other night about this - in which I had a paper rejected from an undergraduate research symposium on picture books and fled weeping into MBD's office pleading for affirmation that I wasn't in fact just an experiment in - and this is 100% true - "the restorative power of rhetoric." The "nightmare" part is clearly just how mortifying it was that I had done this at all, since it was one of those dreams that felt suuuuuuper real. Ugh.
So. Yes. I need to be less negative about myself and remember I'm not entirely a weak-willed fuck-up with no work ethic. I can make changes, I can have good ideas, I can be strong enough to stand up for what's best for me.
And I can eat like "a fat girl trapped in a thin girl's body" as Justin famously put it, and I can appreciate the genius of Community. (Even if I sometimes wish a little too deeply that my life looked more like that - god, so much cleanly resolved drama! And so much entertaining sexual tension! It's like my dream world, except in Colorado and...well, at community college. But who knows - with this market, I'll be lucky for Prof. Slater's job.)
This isn't something I find myself noticing all that often anyhow, but the fact that I'm feeling that despite having spent most of yesterday eating three days' worth of food while watching 20 episodes of Community is especially surprising. (And I wish I was exaggerating either of those numbers, but I am sadly not.)
I'm not doing perfectly. I still sleep too much, watch too much TV, drink too much, don't read enough for class, never cook. And that all gets me down a lot, because I know I'm capable of doing better than I have been. I can take better care of myself, work harder, make more adult decisions (in quality and quantity). And that's all still true now, at the end of this week.
But things are looking up all the same. I worked out twice, I started really thinking about final papers, I went and talked to someone about my teaching insecurities, I drank less. And I made an very difficult decision about my personal life and stuck to it - even under duress. I also mailed back an RSVP card the day I got it. That's big.
What I need to remember is that I'll never be doing everything perfectly. So what's important to notice is the improvements I *am* making, the good things I find ways to do anyhow. People close to me have been telling me this for a few years now, but I'm starting to believe that I really can frequently be too hard on myself. But it's important to give myself credit for the things I accomplish, however small - because if not, that's how I end up believing I can't do anything.
I actually had a nightmare the other night about this - in which I had a paper rejected from an undergraduate research symposium on picture books and fled weeping into MBD's office pleading for affirmation that I wasn't in fact just an experiment in - and this is 100% true - "the restorative power of rhetoric." The "nightmare" part is clearly just how mortifying it was that I had done this at all, since it was one of those dreams that felt suuuuuuper real. Ugh.
So. Yes. I need to be less negative about myself and remember I'm not entirely a weak-willed fuck-up with no work ethic. I can make changes, I can have good ideas, I can be strong enough to stand up for what's best for me.
And I can eat like "a fat girl trapped in a thin girl's body" as Justin famously put it, and I can appreciate the genius of Community. (Even if I sometimes wish a little too deeply that my life looked more like that - god, so much cleanly resolved drama! And so much entertaining sexual tension! It's like my dream world, except in Colorado and...well, at community college. But who knows - with this market, I'll be lucky for Prof. Slater's job.)
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Thoughts from today
1. The clock turned to 9:00 just as I looked up at it to see if I needed to go to the liquor store. God damn Madison and their stupid laws.
2. I went to the gym today! (This was #1 until the wine thing. Friggin' A.) I'm genuinely proud of myself. I've been saying I'll go practically every single day for weeks now, but last night I was like "...alright, you can do better than this, Becca." And so I went. Even though I almost had a panic attack in the locker room because I'm getting anxious about my own work and my students are crushing my spirit in every way and I hadn't worked out in ages and was scared I'd be shockingly weak. And as pretty much anyone including myself could have told me, it was great. I'm not even as criminally out of shape as I thought. So Imma try and make that a thing. Going again tomorrow...
3. As mentioned above, teaching is kiiiiind of killing me lately. I feel like I've spent a quarter of my waking hours this semester commenting on papers, I've genuinely spent hours and hours planning and preparing for this class - but lately it's just...not good. There's a few kids who just are clearly not taking the class seriously, a lot of them aren't reading, and this week I just...couldn't think of what to do about it, let alone what to do *with* them in class. Sigh. I just emailed their grades on the first paper back though, and I suspect that the attitudes of some of them will change fairly quickly. Surprise! Just because I said I'm always willing to work with you because I want you all to do well does not mean I'm going to give you an A for slapping five new sentences in your draft and calling it a revision - especially since 3 of them are run-ons. Sheesh. I know I'm chill in class, but come on.
4. As a result of #3, I'm not commenting on any of their (new) drafts tonight. I can't handle any more right now. I need them done by Monday night, but that's doable even so. So soon I will call it a night and attempt to pretend the beers in my fridge are something other than Pabst. Pabst Light. (Stupid, stupid Madsion...)
5. My cats are particularly awesome lately. They often cuddle, but lately it's just been a whole new level of affectionate adorableness. And I was incredibly pleased by all the attention they got at my party last weekend - especially from AK, who validated me in a huge way by saying that Polo smells particularly good for a cat. Though I'm less charmed by Penny's new habit of opening and closing the cabinets loudly in the middle of the night. We've been Scotch-taping them so far but that's not a viable long-term solution, so I'm going to have to go around and screw child locks into them all at some point. Because I've just got SO much time on my hands that I needed another home improvement project.
6. I still need stuff on my bedroom walls in a major way. I bought some frames cheap at Target to work on the problem, but the major issue - above my bed - remains unresolved. And I'm not happy with the furniture layout yet either. The bed's new spot is good, but now I think I need another night table to create some symmetry. And another lamp for it. The windows also need at least a basic white curtain. I'm still not sure how best to do it with the three of them together, but I'm leaning towards a basic valance and two extra-long white tie-back panels. When this will all happen I have no idea, but it's a semi-priority...I don't like not liking my bedroom. At least 2/3 need to get done this term.
7. Community is hilarious. I'm working through season 1 and I'm so hooked. I find it strangely realistic for something so over-the-top...taken alone, all the characters are eerily plausible. Except Senor Chang. And the dean.
8. Going to NH for Thanksgiving! I'll be gone a few days longer than is responsible, but I haven't had a Thanksgiving with the entire family in a long time, so I'm excited.
9. I think at this point I have to just accept and embrace the fact that there's something about Brandon Flowers that I am powerless to resist. Or his voice and general musical aesthetic, anyhow. His solo album? Couldn't tell you if it's actually any good. Don't have any favorite tracks so far, after 4-5 listens while working. But I know I don't not like it.
10. I still need to buy those damn Ben Folds tix
2. I went to the gym today! (This was #1 until the wine thing. Friggin' A.) I'm genuinely proud of myself. I've been saying I'll go practically every single day for weeks now, but last night I was like "...alright, you can do better than this, Becca." And so I went. Even though I almost had a panic attack in the locker room because I'm getting anxious about my own work and my students are crushing my spirit in every way and I hadn't worked out in ages and was scared I'd be shockingly weak. And as pretty much anyone including myself could have told me, it was great. I'm not even as criminally out of shape as I thought. So Imma try and make that a thing. Going again tomorrow...
3. As mentioned above, teaching is kiiiiind of killing me lately. I feel like I've spent a quarter of my waking hours this semester commenting on papers, I've genuinely spent hours and hours planning and preparing for this class - but lately it's just...not good. There's a few kids who just are clearly not taking the class seriously, a lot of them aren't reading, and this week I just...couldn't think of what to do about it, let alone what to do *with* them in class. Sigh. I just emailed their grades on the first paper back though, and I suspect that the attitudes of some of them will change fairly quickly. Surprise! Just because I said I'm always willing to work with you because I want you all to do well does not mean I'm going to give you an A for slapping five new sentences in your draft and calling it a revision - especially since 3 of them are run-ons. Sheesh. I know I'm chill in class, but come on.
4. As a result of #3, I'm not commenting on any of their (new) drafts tonight. I can't handle any more right now. I need them done by Monday night, but that's doable even so. So soon I will call it a night and attempt to pretend the beers in my fridge are something other than Pabst. Pabst Light. (Stupid, stupid Madsion...)
5. My cats are particularly awesome lately. They often cuddle, but lately it's just been a whole new level of affectionate adorableness. And I was incredibly pleased by all the attention they got at my party last weekend - especially from AK, who validated me in a huge way by saying that Polo smells particularly good for a cat. Though I'm less charmed by Penny's new habit of opening and closing the cabinets loudly in the middle of the night. We've been Scotch-taping them so far but that's not a viable long-term solution, so I'm going to have to go around and screw child locks into them all at some point. Because I've just got SO much time on my hands that I needed another home improvement project.
6. I still need stuff on my bedroom walls in a major way. I bought some frames cheap at Target to work on the problem, but the major issue - above my bed - remains unresolved. And I'm not happy with the furniture layout yet either. The bed's new spot is good, but now I think I need another night table to create some symmetry. And another lamp for it. The windows also need at least a basic white curtain. I'm still not sure how best to do it with the three of them together, but I'm leaning towards a basic valance and two extra-long white tie-back panels. When this will all happen I have no idea, but it's a semi-priority...I don't like not liking my bedroom. At least 2/3 need to get done this term.
7. Community is hilarious. I'm working through season 1 and I'm so hooked. I find it strangely realistic for something so over-the-top...taken alone, all the characters are eerily plausible. Except Senor Chang. And the dean.
8. Going to NH for Thanksgiving! I'll be gone a few days longer than is responsible, but I haven't had a Thanksgiving with the entire family in a long time, so I'm excited.
9. I think at this point I have to just accept and embrace the fact that there's something about Brandon Flowers that I am powerless to resist. Or his voice and general musical aesthetic, anyhow. His solo album? Couldn't tell you if it's actually any good. Don't have any favorite tracks so far, after 4-5 listens while working. But I know I don't not like it.
10. I still need to buy those damn Ben Folds tix
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Back in Business
So I'm currently sitting at my brand spanking new (and oh so artfully assembled) desk, eating pineapple out of the can with a side of tortilla chips, a glass of wine at my side, taking a break from commenting on my first round of student papers. And you know what? It feels kind of good. Sure I'm behind and have tons to do, but...I know how to do this. And I know what needs to be done.
I am so incredibly pleased to have a desk again finally - and a desk that makes me happy no less. I haven't had a chance to organize it or anything, but it's still nice. Ideally it'd have more drawers, but since I've got a mostly empty bookshelf right next to it, I should be able to improvise something. While I might have been able to find something cheaper, it would have meant waiting still longer to get one, and as a person who does 75% of her work at home, I couldn't wait. Plus even though this one isn't exactly my Platonic ideal of a desk, it's attractive and new and feels good to me. Danny Sexton once justified spending some huge amount on bed linens (which makes him sound hilariously unlike the guy he in fact is) by telling me that since you spend 1/3 of your day in bed, it's somewhere you should really love being. Though I still haven't bought those $400 sheets, I have always remembered that, and it definitely guided me in my decision to splurge a little and get something new. (The fact that at 26 a low-end IKEA desk is still a splurge is a lament for another post.)
But yeah. I still have some unpacking/organizing to do in the study, but having a workspace at home that I like being in is really nice. I've even got a sweet nickle-plated Pixar lamp (http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/60146764) to make me look extra-legit. So in six weeks or so when 90% of my time is split between seminar rooms and this study, I'll at least be comfortable, well-lit and trendy.
I am so incredibly pleased to have a desk again finally - and a desk that makes me happy no less. I haven't had a chance to organize it or anything, but it's still nice. Ideally it'd have more drawers, but since I've got a mostly empty bookshelf right next to it, I should be able to improvise something. While I might have been able to find something cheaper, it would have meant waiting still longer to get one, and as a person who does 75% of her work at home, I couldn't wait. Plus even though this one isn't exactly my Platonic ideal of a desk, it's attractive and new and feels good to me. Danny Sexton once justified spending some huge amount on bed linens (which makes him sound hilariously unlike the guy he in fact is) by telling me that since you spend 1/3 of your day in bed, it's somewhere you should really love being. Though I still haven't bought those $400 sheets, I have always remembered that, and it definitely guided me in my decision to splurge a little and get something new. (The fact that at 26 a low-end IKEA desk is still a splurge is a lament for another post.)
But yeah. I still have some unpacking/organizing to do in the study, but having a workspace at home that I like being in is really nice. I've even got a sweet nickle-plated Pixar lamp (http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/60146764) to make me look extra-legit. So in six weeks or so when 90% of my time is split between seminar rooms and this study, I'll at least be comfortable, well-lit and trendy.
Friday, September 10, 2010
So...maybe I'd like this to be 1/15th of the male population's Bible
Oh Don Draper. Even though you're violently antitype as well as antihero, I still kind of want to go on a bad date with you.
Though I mean, any fool could do it, right?
Also, as stated on Facebook, steps one and two - and hell, maybe also three and four - apply equally well to performing in grad seminars.
----
In other news - not to jinx things, but I'm feeling shockingly stable and decisive about both my personal and professional life. Which is remarkable considering it's been years since both were at such stages of upheaval. True, this is largely because I had no professional like until I came to UW and therefore have never before articulated a connection between them in this fashion, but still. Let me bask in my moment. Lord knows all I'll have to bask in for the next 9 months is Brad's loving displeasure about my inevitable failings as an employee and the warmth of knowing that I put myself a year behind to join a field I'm slightly better at but understand vaguely if at all.
...this post just became the definition of taking what you can get. But even so - I got unmistakeably angry up in someone's grill this week. In BeccaLand, that's a gold star no matter how you cut it.
Plus, Adam comes tomorrow. So even if I could hardly call it the best week ever, it's had a lot going for it.
...and despite some guilt about not working much for school yesterday or today, I find I feel something very close to happiness. For reasons I created myself. Plus the realization I have some sweet friends.
It's a wonderful life, girl. You might even end up a Capra film with the last scene intact.*
*Incalculable Becca points if you know the reference and are not also Jamie Anderson.
Though I mean, any fool could do it, right?
Also, as stated on Facebook, steps one and two - and hell, maybe also three and four - apply equally well to performing in grad seminars.
----
In other news - not to jinx things, but I'm feeling shockingly stable and decisive about both my personal and professional life. Which is remarkable considering it's been years since both were at such stages of upheaval. True, this is largely because I had no professional like until I came to UW and therefore have never before articulated a connection between them in this fashion, but still. Let me bask in my moment. Lord knows all I'll have to bask in for the next 9 months is Brad's loving displeasure about my inevitable failings as an employee and the warmth of knowing that I put myself a year behind to join a field I'm slightly better at but understand vaguely if at all.
...this post just became the definition of taking what you can get. But even so - I got unmistakeably angry up in someone's grill this week. In BeccaLand, that's a gold star no matter how you cut it.
Plus, Adam comes tomorrow. So even if I could hardly call it the best week ever, it's had a lot going for it.
...and despite some guilt about not working much for school yesterday or today, I find I feel something very close to happiness. For reasons I created myself. Plus the realization I have some sweet friends.
It's a wonderful life, girl. You might even end up a Capra film with the last scene intact.*
*Incalculable Becca points if you know the reference and are not also Jamie Anderson.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Not Martha yet, but...baby steps, baby steps
So not to jinx it, but I think I've become a neat person.
Even though I've been trending this way for a few years now - really since graduation - it still kind of shocks me to realize this. But yesterday evening as I tidied away a camera, a camera cord, a box of crayons and a coloring book because they were "cluttering up" my living room, it hit me that I've been regular and persistent about keeping my living space very tidy for four straight months now. It's beyond habit - it's just how I've become. If my house is not clean, I can't deal.
Now, this is not to say I'm a clean freak. With my cats and my schedule, that is still unattainable. But I feel I now can honestly say I Live Like a Grown-Up. I don't think everyone has "cleans house regularly and does not tolerate clutter" as a large part of that designation, nor do I think everyone should. But I grew up in a messy (and admittedly comfortable and much-loved) house, and even though I was the laziest and worst child ever at helping with cleaning it, it did leave a mark on me in some way. I think because I felt guilty about not cleaning I've made the act part of my definition of responsibility - if I'm responsible for myself and doing it well, my house should be clean.
We'll see how this goes when school starts. But I'm optimistic. It makes me feel good, damn it, to clean everything and then enjoy my nice apartment. And I love where I live, so that helps too.
Will I next conquer my incredible inability to remain organized? Stay tuned...
Even though I've been trending this way for a few years now - really since graduation - it still kind of shocks me to realize this. But yesterday evening as I tidied away a camera, a camera cord, a box of crayons and a coloring book because they were "cluttering up" my living room, it hit me that I've been regular and persistent about keeping my living space very tidy for four straight months now. It's beyond habit - it's just how I've become. If my house is not clean, I can't deal.
Now, this is not to say I'm a clean freak. With my cats and my schedule, that is still unattainable. But I feel I now can honestly say I Live Like a Grown-Up. I don't think everyone has "cleans house regularly and does not tolerate clutter" as a large part of that designation, nor do I think everyone should. But I grew up in a messy (and admittedly comfortable and much-loved) house, and even though I was the laziest and worst child ever at helping with cleaning it, it did leave a mark on me in some way. I think because I felt guilty about not cleaning I've made the act part of my definition of responsibility - if I'm responsible for myself and doing it well, my house should be clean.
We'll see how this goes when school starts. But I'm optimistic. It makes me feel good, damn it, to clean everything and then enjoy my nice apartment. And I love where I live, so that helps too.
Will I next conquer my incredible inability to remain organized? Stay tuned...
Friday, August 13, 2010
Movin' On Up...
So the vacation of 1135 is in full swing now, and while it's just as annoying a task as ever, I've reached the point where I'm not really stressed about it anymore. 90% of my stuff is packed, I can see I have enough boxes, half Andy's books are moved to his new place...basically the way ahead is pretty clear, and I feel confident we'll finish in plenty of time. (Well - that we'll finish in time. Plenty might be pushing it.)
Now the only thing really dragging on me is Saturday. Up at 7:30 to pick up truck, having to drive and park a 16' truck on Madison's tiny streets, moving Renee out and in, moving anything left of Andy's out and in, moving the few things of Gwen's left out and wherever, moving my stuff out, finding a place to stash the truck overnight, finishing the (likely significant) cleaning remaining over here, and getting to sleep in time to not wake up a half-dead shell of a person so that I can finish this horrible process by moving in to the new place. Also - moving Polo. Bah. (Though Virginia is awesome and has offered me use of her second bedroom to house them for the night, bless her.)
I had my big Sad Moment about the move when I got home last night...walking in to this torn-apart chaos storm and realizing that no, I don't really live here anymore. I had a great, great year in this apartment. I loved it, put so much work into it with Andy, loved being here so much I basically became a shut-in, brought the cats home here for the first time, threw my first surprise party, had my first custom curtains made up for it...I loved it, and I'm sad to go. The new place is going to be great, no doubt, but it's not home yet, and this was. It's definitely not all bitter though - living here showed me I can in fact live like a (quasi-)adult, and hammered home even further how much happier I am when I live somewhere I like.
So onward - to a new neighborhood, new roommate, new place. Without the memories, it's true...but with amenities I thought I'd only see after tenure, the Weary and loads of awesome people just around the corner, and with all sorts of new decorating possibilities.
It's time.
Now the only thing really dragging on me is Saturday. Up at 7:30 to pick up truck, having to drive and park a 16' truck on Madison's tiny streets, moving Renee out and in, moving anything left of Andy's out and in, moving the few things of Gwen's left out and wherever, moving my stuff out, finding a place to stash the truck overnight, finishing the (likely significant) cleaning remaining over here, and getting to sleep in time to not wake up a half-dead shell of a person so that I can finish this horrible process by moving in to the new place. Also - moving Polo. Bah. (Though Virginia is awesome and has offered me use of her second bedroom to house them for the night, bless her.)
I had my big Sad Moment about the move when I got home last night...walking in to this torn-apart chaos storm and realizing that no, I don't really live here anymore. I had a great, great year in this apartment. I loved it, put so much work into it with Andy, loved being here so much I basically became a shut-in, brought the cats home here for the first time, threw my first surprise party, had my first custom curtains made up for it...I loved it, and I'm sad to go. The new place is going to be great, no doubt, but it's not home yet, and this was. It's definitely not all bitter though - living here showed me I can in fact live like a (quasi-)adult, and hammered home even further how much happier I am when I live somewhere I like.
So onward - to a new neighborhood, new roommate, new place. Without the memories, it's true...but with amenities I thought I'd only see after tenure, the Weary and loads of awesome people just around the corner, and with all sorts of new decorating possibilities.
It's time.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Holy Relatives, Batman
The following is the text of an email I received from my grandfather today:
"Fifty Years of Math 1959 - 2009 (in the USA )
Last week I purchased a burger at Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl
took my $2 and I was digging for my change when I pulled 8 cents from my
pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, holding the nickel and 3
pennies, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her
discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me two quarters , but she
hailed the manager for help. While he tried to explain the transaction to
her, she stood there and cried. Why do I tell you this? Because of the
evolution in teaching math since the 1950s:
1. Teaching Math In 1950s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5
of the price. What is his profit ?
2. Teaching Math In 1960s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5
of the price, or $80. What is his profit?
3. Teaching Math In 1970s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is
$80. Did he make a profit?
4. Teaching Math In 1980s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80
and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.
5. Teaching Math In 1990s
A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and
inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the
preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20.
What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class
participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels
feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and if
you feel like crying, it's ok. )
6. Teaching Math In 2009
Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100. El costo de la
producciones es $80. Cuanto dinero ha hecho?"
...what the hell am I supposed to do about this? Like, not necessarily in an "I feel like I have to take action!" sense. Because frankly, one incredibly depressing conversation with him about his views on the Arizona law in which he repeatedly insisted his views were not at all racist and I was ultimately reduced to responding solely through sarcasm which he completely and utterly missed and led my mother to chastise me severely later on was enough. It's just so incredibly weird to me because in all other respects he's an incredibly progressive guy. He barely blinked an eye when my brother came out (and like the *entire family* except me knew years before he was told), he's got an affectionate-head-shaking attitude towards my father's extreme religious commitment, and he was incredibly supportive of my grandmother starting her own business in the 60s and of women's rights in general. But refer to someone as African-American in front of him and you'll get a 5-minute speech on how annoying that term because "they" only invented it so they could grab up all your tax dollars. Like...how does that happen? Is being in the workforce for 50 years so soul-crushing that it inevitably leads to this kind of blatantly economics-motivated myopia? Are racist views on immigration a little-known side effect of lupus? Beats me, but it's made for some hella awkward moments at family gatherings recently. (And also given rise to an inside joke between me and my siblings that must sound so off-color if you don't realize it's making fun of my grandfather and not minority groups.)
Anyhow. I should definitely be packing or working on my syllabus right now instead of writing this, but whatever. I failed so completely at most of my summer objectives that I feel like I've reallllly got to come through with my resolution to blog/journal more. I wrote 1300 words on a Stickie last night between 1 and 2am alone. Go me!
"Fifty Years of Math 1959 - 2009 (in the USA )
Last week I purchased a burger at Burger King for $1.58. The counter girl
took my $2 and I was digging for my change when I pulled 8 cents from my
pocket and gave it to her. She stood there, holding the nickel and 3
pennies, while looking at the screen on her register. I sensed her
discomfort and tried to tell her to just give me two quarters , but she
hailed the manager for help. While he tried to explain the transaction to
her, she stood there and cried. Why do I tell you this? Because of the
evolution in teaching math since the 1950s:
1. Teaching Math In 1950s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5
of the price. What is his profit ?
2. Teaching Math In 1960s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is 4/5
of the price, or $80. What is his profit?
3. Teaching Math In 1970s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is
$80. Did he make a profit?
4. Teaching Math In 1980s
A logger sells a truckload of lumber for $100. His cost of production is $80
and his profit is $20. Your assignment: Underline the number 20.
5. Teaching Math In 1990s
A logger cuts down a beautiful forest because he is selfish and
inconsiderate and cares nothing for the habitat of animals or the
preservation of our woodlands. He does this so he can make a profit of $20.
What do you think of this way of making a living? Topic for class
participation after answering the question: How did the birds and squirrels
feel as the logger cut down their homes? (There are no wrong answers, and if
you feel like crying, it's ok. )
6. Teaching Math In 2009
Un hachero vende una carretada de maderapara $100. El costo de la
producciones es $80. Cuanto dinero ha hecho?"
...what the hell am I supposed to do about this? Like, not necessarily in an "I feel like I have to take action!" sense. Because frankly, one incredibly depressing conversation with him about his views on the Arizona law in which he repeatedly insisted his views were not at all racist and I was ultimately reduced to responding solely through sarcasm which he completely and utterly missed and led my mother to chastise me severely later on was enough. It's just so incredibly weird to me because in all other respects he's an incredibly progressive guy. He barely blinked an eye when my brother came out (and like the *entire family* except me knew years before he was told), he's got an affectionate-head-shaking attitude towards my father's extreme religious commitment, and he was incredibly supportive of my grandmother starting her own business in the 60s and of women's rights in general. But refer to someone as African-American in front of him and you'll get a 5-minute speech on how annoying that term because "they" only invented it so they could grab up all your tax dollars. Like...how does that happen? Is being in the workforce for 50 years so soul-crushing that it inevitably leads to this kind of blatantly economics-motivated myopia? Are racist views on immigration a little-known side effect of lupus? Beats me, but it's made for some hella awkward moments at family gatherings recently. (And also given rise to an inside joke between me and my siblings that must sound so off-color if you don't realize it's making fun of my grandfather and not minority groups.)
Anyhow. I should definitely be packing or working on my syllabus right now instead of writing this, but whatever. I failed so completely at most of my summer objectives that I feel like I've reallllly got to come through with my resolution to blog/journal more. I wrote 1300 words on a Stickie last night between 1 and 2am alone. Go me!
Songs I Forgot to Mention
"Past and Pending," The Shins: Never fails to make me feel peaceful in my life, if only for five minutes and twenty-two seconds.
"Electric Feel," MGMT: The theme song to my trip to LA, the best vacation I've ever had. I could count on my fingers the number of times I've listened to it since then - it's a wonderful song, but it evokes the feelings of that trip so strongly that I'm reluctant to weaken that power by invoking it too often.
"The Dream of Evan and Chan," Dntel: Can't believe I forgot this the first time around. How can a song be both a perfect account of the sensible nonsense that is the most vivid and emotional of dreams and also so incredibly universal? It's always perfect until something rings to bring you back to this world of concrete and pragmatism. "I won't let go, I won't let go/even if you say so oh no..."It's a wrenching anthem to snooze buttons, essentially - the heartrending description of why you wish you could have slept just a few minutes more, why you tried so hard to stay asleep a little longer. To the best kind of dreams - the ones that inspired Inception, the ones that serve as the subconscious spark to the castles you build in the air when you just can't read anymore and need to lean back in your chair and shut your eyes.
I think it's telling that at this current place in my life, these three songs evoke the strongest emotional response of any of those I've listed in this blog - the three I forgot. This actually could serve as a litmus test for how well people know me - putting a finger on the reason the songs that move me the most did not get discussed in my initial posting.
...well, maybe "the strongest" is in itself a little strong. Because now I'm listening to "Alone in Kyoto" and lord in heaven do I wish I could Delorean myself back to that evening. I might have felt even lower then than I do now, but at least it was a low that held a future inside it.
"Electric Feel," MGMT: The theme song to my trip to LA, the best vacation I've ever had. I could count on my fingers the number of times I've listened to it since then - it's a wonderful song, but it evokes the feelings of that trip so strongly that I'm reluctant to weaken that power by invoking it too often.
"The Dream of Evan and Chan," Dntel: Can't believe I forgot this the first time around. How can a song be both a perfect account of the sensible nonsense that is the most vivid and emotional of dreams and also so incredibly universal? It's always perfect until something rings to bring you back to this world of concrete and pragmatism. "I won't let go, I won't let go/even if you say so oh no..."It's a wrenching anthem to snooze buttons, essentially - the heartrending description of why you wish you could have slept just a few minutes more, why you tried so hard to stay asleep a little longer. To the best kind of dreams - the ones that inspired Inception, the ones that serve as the subconscious spark to the castles you build in the air when you just can't read anymore and need to lean back in your chair and shut your eyes.
I think it's telling that at this current place in my life, these three songs evoke the strongest emotional response of any of those I've listed in this blog - the three I forgot. This actually could serve as a litmus test for how well people know me - putting a finger on the reason the songs that move me the most did not get discussed in my initial posting.
...well, maybe "the strongest" is in itself a little strong. Because now I'm listening to "Alone in Kyoto" and lord in heaven do I wish I could Delorean myself back to that evening. I might have felt even lower then than I do now, but at least it was a low that held a future inside it.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
I Solemnly Swear I am Totally Awesome
From GChat:
Jamie: you, madam, really know how to take an idea and run with it
...four years later, and I've still got it. Miss those guys so much.
------
Also, on a totally unrelated note: One of my major, major pet peeves is when TV or movies show people enhancing images in a way that's COMPLETELY unrealistic. The best example I can think of off the top of my head is in FlashForward, where the FBI image tech enhances a frame of a man in a baseball stadium taken by a stadium security camera from the other side of the field enough to see the ring on his finger. I mean what the fuck. Even my 4-year-old cousin knows how megapixels work. Come on.
However, I just watched The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and was pleasantly surprised to see the main character coax hitherto unnoticed detail from an old photograph in a more or less realistic way. I think he even uses iPhoto (apparently the Swedes love Apple stuff, btw). I knew the scene was coming and was all primed to call bullshit (or "shenanigans" as my new blog obsession would say), but it actually looked like something one could recreate in real life.
The whole movie was like that, actually - eerily real-looking. The actors are handsome/pretty when appropriate. People have pockmarks, wrinkles, signs of aging - even the "sexy" female characters. And on and on. Given the nature of the film, this lends everything a suuuuper creepy sense of possibility. Hollywood take note.
Jamie: you, madam, really know how to take an idea and run with it
...four years later, and I've still got it. Miss those guys so much.
------
Also, on a totally unrelated note: One of my major, major pet peeves is when TV or movies show people enhancing images in a way that's COMPLETELY unrealistic. The best example I can think of off the top of my head is in FlashForward, where the FBI image tech enhances a frame of a man in a baseball stadium taken by a stadium security camera from the other side of the field enough to see the ring on his finger. I mean what the fuck. Even my 4-year-old cousin knows how megapixels work. Come on.
However, I just watched The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, and was pleasantly surprised to see the main character coax hitherto unnoticed detail from an old photograph in a more or less realistic way. I think he even uses iPhoto (apparently the Swedes love Apple stuff, btw). I knew the scene was coming and was all primed to call bullshit (or "shenanigans" as my new blog obsession would say), but it actually looked like something one could recreate in real life.
The whole movie was like that, actually - eerily real-looking. The actors are handsome/pretty when appropriate. People have pockmarks, wrinkles, signs of aging - even the "sexy" female characters. And on and on. Given the nature of the film, this lends everything a suuuuper creepy sense of possibility. Hollywood take note.
How does "Dr. Rebecca Murphy" sound?
Sorry NPH, but you've been dethroned. (At least for the time being - let's be realistic here.) I'd be all over this man in the hottest of hot seconds. Yikes. I'm actually thrilled I had no clue he was going to be in the movie - I was so excited I almost squealed when he came on.
I mean no I didn't! I behaved in a demure and totally cool way as is befitting the future wife of such a tall, dark and hunky dude.
Oh yeah - all the non-Cillian Murphy bits of Inception were awesome as well.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Music Affairs: Albums that are Made of Awesome, Part I
Disclaimer: Don't interpret the following long and self-indulgent stroll down my musical memory lane as an indicator that I think I'm so interesting and cool that you'd all want to read a novella about my taste in albums. I just really enjoy thinking about this kind of thing lately and having a record to look back on later. And it's cathartic as all hell.
I guess that applies to my entire blog - and most people's, I would hazard. I could and likely will eventually write a meta-esque entry about how I think keeping a journal is the best thing since sliced bread, but for now - albums!
I guess that applies to my entire blog - and most people's, I would hazard. I could and likely will eventually write a meta-esque entry about how I think keeping a journal is the best thing since sliced bread, but for now - albums!
-------------
Looking at the list now, even this half, I'm thinking I should arrange them in some kind of order. But that's a lot of cutting and pasting for this lazy girl, so I'll leave it as it is - in the order I thought of them. Part II forthcoming.
Rufus Wainwright, Release the Stars: Yet another album I came to love in Limoges. It's interesting to me how many albums there are from my year there on this list. Songs too, really. I think it's because I spent like 40% of the time I wasn't sleeping or working walking around the city listening to music. I spent more time listening to music in those 10 months than in any other, and it shows on both lists. The moral is clear, I guess - want to find music you adore? Listen to a lot! - but somehow I haven't gotten back on that wagon. Anyways...kind of like with Crane Wife, Release the Stars doesn't necessarily have my favorite Rufus songs on it. In fact, it positively does not. (BTW, in no real order: "Poses," "Do I Disappoint You," "Greek Song," "Beauty Mark"...ok there are way too many to list, but "What a World" is probably tops.) Part of the reason this album has such a place in my heart is because it's clearly not his masterpiece. Yeah, there's some impressive stuff here. For example, "Do I Disappoint You" is a really, really complex and impressive track; I seem to recall reading that it has an ungodly number of tracks and that the Roofster himself mixed them all as well as writing all the instrumental parts. "Between My Legs" (though I vaguely recall critics being down on it) is a different style for him that, through its complex layers of tracks and rising and falling energy and engagingly weird lyrics ("...and I'll shed a tear between my legs" - what. the. fuck). But unlike Want One or Want Two, this album sticks in my mind not as the vehicle for a few great tunes, but as one whole thing. Which is to me what defines a favorite album. Yes there's the inevitable "Nobody's Off the Hook" or two, but (and I'm quickly realizing this is almost as much a function of how I approached the album as of its contents) when at the end of any given song from this album, my brain fills in the beginning of the next track and is shaken for a fraction of a second when I realize that no, you're not listening to the album, the next song is actually "Shake Your Groove Thing." But I love Release as much for its musical merit as for its nostalgic mystery - even if there are for sure some weaker spots. (I mean, it's not Sam's Town - see below.)
Fiona Apple, Tidal: Hands down one of the most formative, influential and beloved albums of my life. I forget if she gave me a copy or if I bought my own, but either way it was my friend Laine who got me into the album. And we *loved* that CD. It was perfect for us at the time - musically rich, controversial (see: "Criminal" video, aka the sexiest music video of all time), and FULL of emotional songs about dudes. And as will come as zero surprise to most people who know me, I was *constantly* emo about some dude (usually my first bf, upon whom I was "totally crushing!" for years). And Laine was too. So between us we must have "OMG I've been listening to [insert song] all day because it TOTALLY sums up things with [insert dude]" over at least 2/3 of the album. I think possibly even the song that I realized later is blatantly about the time she was raped. So that's weird. But I do genuinely love this album for its own sake. Her voice is so beautiful, and the songs just kind of...wash over me when I listen to it. It's stilling and stirring all at once. I sang "Never is a Promise" in my school's big talent show senior year, and various others for various other concerts...they're good solo candidates because they make it so easy on you. The emotion is written right in.
Pete Yorn, Musicforthemorningafter: Imma come right on and say it - I love Pete Yorn. I love him. I even loved Nightcrawler, despite it's being *incredibly* uneven. I know a lot of people are like "meh, another singer-songwriter," but I love his voice and I love his lyrics. And his guitar. And his sexy, sexy hair. True story: I *finally* had tickets to see him this fall and then forgot until the day before that it was a Tuesday and I had to work in the Writing Center. *sob* Like many of these, it combines genuine musical appeal with good associations; I bought this album my first summer in college, a summer of waiting tables, hanging out on the Cape, and feeling independent. They also played it in Tryst (my favorite DC coffee place), so it smacks of evening work sessions and delicious, delicious chai. The MOST delicious chai. And everyone knows that's what gives an album staying power.
The Postal Service, Give Up: For sure on of my Desert Island Discs. There's so much going for it, especially to me personally: opens with a song about DC, light and easy to listen to as background, good lyrics, and original (or it was at the time). And perhaps most importantly, it was (along with Yoshimi and the Garden State soundtrack) music I fell in love to. I actually stopped listening to it for almost a year for just that reason, but that only gave it staying power. And despite the nostalgia factor, it has really aged well for me. Back then my favorite tracks were "Nothing Better," "Natural Anthem" and "Such Great Heights;" now it's "District Sleeps Alone" and "Brand New Colony" all the way. God, "District." I'm still not sure I entirely understand what it's about ("And I am finally seeing/That I was the one worth leaving"...what exactly does that mean?) but damn can it fill me with slightly melancholy-tinged peace every time. (But my all-time #1 Postal Service song is "The Dream of Evan and Chan," which is possibly the perfect song and, I am realizing now, a glaring omission from my earlier music post.)
DC Talk, Jesus Freak: Yeah yeah I used to listen to contemporary Christian music and even had a subscription to CCM back in the day. A lot of the music I liked back then was crap I would not be caught dead having in my iTunes library let alone in my ears. But I actually think Jesus Freak is a pretty sweet album. And I'll admit it - I still occasionally listen to some stuff off it. "In the Light" is a great 90s song! Plus I have soooooo many fond memories of watching Tim King playing it at youth group and feeling the Spirit/lusting after him. (Sometimes I think as much as 30% of my religious fervor back then was just repressed longing for all the *incredibly* hot Christian dudes with whom I was constantly surrounded. Man they were smoking. But as a result I've come to associate any guy holding a guitar with enforced abstinence.) It's exactly what a Christan album should be - fervent, stirring, and secular-sounding enough to be relateable for people under 30. I mean, they manage to rap the story of John the Baptist in a way that isn't (entirely) laughable. It might even be a better verse than those of "Empire State." (It also refers to the Pharisees as "tripping," which I adore.)
Maroon 5, Songs for Jane: The position of this album on the list is tenuous, because GOD they overplayed it. However, the musical boner I had for this when it came out would make Lexington Steel blush, so I felt it had to be included. I used to go out for drives at night just so I could listen to it (since that was back when I could fill my gas tank with the change I found in the couch cushions). And it's full of great tracks - it made them famous for a reason, I feel. "She Will Be Loved," despite being so overplayed my ears bleed anytime it comes on, is beautiful. True story: right after they played this when I saw them at 930 Adam pointed out a couple that had been making out through the whole song; we all thought he was going to embarrass them horribly, but in fact he said he dug it, and that's why he wrote the song. (I too may have fogged a few car windows with that baby playing.) And I still work out to "Harder to Breathe" from time to time - by FAR one of the sexiest songs I can think of. And then there's "Sunday Morning." And "Not Coming Home." I couldn't contain my love for this album and pushed it on everyone I saw; I actually have a memory of giving a mid-40s gas station attendant the hard sell. (Who am I kidding - I do that kind of thing all the time. See: the Kindle, my hairstylist, living on the East side, minoring in Comp/Rhet, etc.) The best part is that I got into them like ten minutes before they blew up, which put me in the rare position of being able to play Musical Elitist. For all my scorn of those people, I completely understand them - the warmth I feel inside when someone I've loved blows up is both shaming and incredibly sweet. Also, to use an Andyism: Adam Levine looks like someone I'd like to go on a bad date with. So. Hot. Jamie and I went through a period sophomore spring (aka The Best Semester Of All Time Ever For Serious) where we watched the video for "This Love" conservatively once a day for two weeks.
Gavin Degraw, Chariot: Now here's someone I was legitimately listening to for ages before he got big. And though I know he's not an artist who gives my musical taste a lot of cred, I will freely admit to thinking he's sweet. (Though his newer stuff is less impressive.) I saw him open for Maroon 5, then went out and bought his CD immediately the following day because I could not get "Chariot" out of my head for love or money. And like nearly all the albums on this list, nearly all the tracks are really strong. And of course, at the time there were two or three of them that made me all "oh em gee, this totally describes some aspect of my current 19-year-old life!" (I'm looking at you, "Follow Through.") He's also really great live - big smiles, makes his audience feel involved and loved, funny, and just generally looks like he loves what he's doing. (Except for the time he played at the AU student center, when he was not nearly as into it. I lost a little love then, but it's hard to blame him - at that point he was at the height of his popularity, so I can see how playing for an audience of 100 college kids in a glorified food court might not get the adrenalin pumping.) [Edit: So I just realized I left out my #1 story about Why Gavin Degraw is a Cool Dude: when I saw him at 930 the second time, he waited around after the show for at least 2 hours so that everyone who wanted to could meet him. At this time I had a *major* crush on him, bigger than I have ever had on a musician since. Like, rivaling Jessie's love of Andrew Bird. So when I met him I tried to play cool, but my friend Kate outed me and was basically like, "she's playing it cool but in fact she wants to have your babies." And I was like "...yeah, it's true. I even did The FanGirl." Which he then asked me to demonstrate (rapt look, one hand on heart and the other extended towards the stage, usually while shrieking). Upon seeing this he laughed, gave me a huuuuge hug and a heartbreaking smile and ruined me for other men. So that's why he rocks.]
Writing up this list has really highlighted how much the death of Napster changed my music habits. The fact that you downloaded single songs as opposed to albums meant that when you fell in love with a new artist and wanted to dl all their songs, you didn't necessarily end up with any complete albums - and it certainly was not in order. So while I absolutely loved Elliot Smith and listened the crap out of many, many of his songs, I never had a sense of his work as being albums. Same goes for everything by Ryan Adams that's not Rock and Roll, a lot of Ben Folds, pre-Keep it Together Guster (which will be making an appearance in part II), every Beyonce track I've ever had, and on and on. God. Napster was the shit, wasn't it? It also makes me realize that I should go to more concerts. Like I needed reminding.
Next time: the rest of the Limoges collection and the Summer of Love, plus a few newbies. And the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack, oddly. But I stand by it!
Pete Yorn, Musicforthemorningafter: Imma come right on and say it - I love Pete Yorn. I love him. I even loved Nightcrawler, despite it's being *incredibly* uneven. I know a lot of people are like "meh, another singer-songwriter," but I love his voice and I love his lyrics. And his guitar. And his sexy, sexy hair. True story: I *finally* had tickets to see him this fall and then forgot until the day before that it was a Tuesday and I had to work in the Writing Center. *sob* Like many of these, it combines genuine musical appeal with good associations; I bought this album my first summer in college, a summer of waiting tables, hanging out on the Cape, and feeling independent. They also played it in Tryst (my favorite DC coffee place), so it smacks of evening work sessions and delicious, delicious chai. The MOST delicious chai. And everyone knows that's what gives an album staying power.
The Postal Service, Give Up: For sure on of my Desert Island Discs. There's so much going for it, especially to me personally: opens with a song about DC, light and easy to listen to as background, good lyrics, and original (or it was at the time). And perhaps most importantly, it was (along with Yoshimi and the Garden State soundtrack) music I fell in love to. I actually stopped listening to it for almost a year for just that reason, but that only gave it staying power. And despite the nostalgia factor, it has really aged well for me. Back then my favorite tracks were "Nothing Better," "Natural Anthem" and "Such Great Heights;" now it's "District Sleeps Alone" and "Brand New Colony" all the way. God, "District." I'm still not sure I entirely understand what it's about ("And I am finally seeing/That I was the one worth leaving"...what exactly does that mean?) but damn can it fill me with slightly melancholy-tinged peace every time. (But my all-time #1 Postal Service song is "The Dream of Evan and Chan," which is possibly the perfect song and, I am realizing now, a glaring omission from my earlier music post.)
DC Talk, Jesus Freak: Yeah yeah I used to listen to contemporary Christian music and even had a subscription to CCM back in the day. A lot of the music I liked back then was crap I would not be caught dead having in my iTunes library let alone in my ears. But I actually think Jesus Freak is a pretty sweet album. And I'll admit it - I still occasionally listen to some stuff off it. "In the Light" is a great 90s song! Plus I have soooooo many fond memories of watching Tim King playing it at youth group and feeling the Spirit/lusting after him. (Sometimes I think as much as 30% of my religious fervor back then was just repressed longing for all the *incredibly* hot Christian dudes with whom I was constantly surrounded. Man they were smoking. But as a result I've come to associate any guy holding a guitar with enforced abstinence.) It's exactly what a Christan album should be - fervent, stirring, and secular-sounding enough to be relateable for people under 30. I mean, they manage to rap the story of John the Baptist in a way that isn't (entirely) laughable. It might even be a better verse than those of "Empire State." (It also refers to the Pharisees as "tripping," which I adore.)
Maroon 5, Songs for Jane: The position of this album on the list is tenuous, because GOD they overplayed it. However, the musical boner I had for this when it came out would make Lexington Steel blush, so I felt it had to be included. I used to go out for drives at night just so I could listen to it (since that was back when I could fill my gas tank with the change I found in the couch cushions). And it's full of great tracks - it made them famous for a reason, I feel. "She Will Be Loved," despite being so overplayed my ears bleed anytime it comes on, is beautiful. True story: right after they played this when I saw them at 930 Adam pointed out a couple that had been making out through the whole song; we all thought he was going to embarrass them horribly, but in fact he said he dug it, and that's why he wrote the song. (I too may have fogged a few car windows with that baby playing.) And I still work out to "Harder to Breathe" from time to time - by FAR one of the sexiest songs I can think of. And then there's "Sunday Morning." And "Not Coming Home." I couldn't contain my love for this album and pushed it on everyone I saw; I actually have a memory of giving a mid-40s gas station attendant the hard sell. (Who am I kidding - I do that kind of thing all the time. See: the Kindle, my hairstylist, living on the East side, minoring in Comp/Rhet, etc.) The best part is that I got into them like ten minutes before they blew up, which put me in the rare position of being able to play Musical Elitist. For all my scorn of those people, I completely understand them - the warmth I feel inside when someone I've loved blows up is both shaming and incredibly sweet. Also, to use an Andyism: Adam Levine looks like someone I'd like to go on a bad date with. So. Hot. Jamie and I went through a period sophomore spring (aka The Best Semester Of All Time Ever For Serious) where we watched the video for "This Love" conservatively once a day for two weeks.
Gavin Degraw, Chariot: Now here's someone I was legitimately listening to for ages before he got big. And though I know he's not an artist who gives my musical taste a lot of cred, I will freely admit to thinking he's sweet. (Though his newer stuff is less impressive.) I saw him open for Maroon 5, then went out and bought his CD immediately the following day because I could not get "Chariot" out of my head for love or money. And like nearly all the albums on this list, nearly all the tracks are really strong. And of course, at the time there were two or three of them that made me all "oh em gee, this totally describes some aspect of my current 19-year-old life!" (I'm looking at you, "Follow Through.") He's also really great live - big smiles, makes his audience feel involved and loved, funny, and just generally looks like he loves what he's doing. (Except for the time he played at the AU student center, when he was not nearly as into it. I lost a little love then, but it's hard to blame him - at that point he was at the height of his popularity, so I can see how playing for an audience of 100 college kids in a glorified food court might not get the adrenalin pumping.) [Edit: So I just realized I left out my #1 story about Why Gavin Degraw is a Cool Dude: when I saw him at 930 the second time, he waited around after the show for at least 2 hours so that everyone who wanted to could meet him. At this time I had a *major* crush on him, bigger than I have ever had on a musician since. Like, rivaling Jessie's love of Andrew Bird. So when I met him I tried to play cool, but my friend Kate outed me and was basically like, "she's playing it cool but in fact she wants to have your babies." And I was like "...yeah, it's true. I even did The FanGirl." Which he then asked me to demonstrate (rapt look, one hand on heart and the other extended towards the stage, usually while shrieking). Upon seeing this he laughed, gave me a huuuuge hug and a heartbreaking smile and ruined me for other men. So that's why he rocks.]
Writing up this list has really highlighted how much the death of Napster changed my music habits. The fact that you downloaded single songs as opposed to albums meant that when you fell in love with a new artist and wanted to dl all their songs, you didn't necessarily end up with any complete albums - and it certainly was not in order. So while I absolutely loved Elliot Smith and listened the crap out of many, many of his songs, I never had a sense of his work as being albums. Same goes for everything by Ryan Adams that's not Rock and Roll, a lot of Ben Folds, pre-Keep it Together Guster (which will be making an appearance in part II), every Beyonce track I've ever had, and on and on. God. Napster was the shit, wasn't it? It also makes me realize that I should go to more concerts. Like I needed reminding.
Next time: the rest of the Limoges collection and the Summer of Love, plus a few newbies. And the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack, oddly. But I stand by it!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
You know what song I hadn't thought about in ages but is still one of the sexiest ever?
"Criminal." Daaaaaaaaamn.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFOzayDpWoI
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FFOzayDpWoI
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Note to Self:
Never be unemployed again. Seriously. You're nigh-on useless without firm-time-sensitive responsibilities to fulfill. For fuck's sake.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Oh So Educational
So I was killing time relaxing this afternoon by reading through the archives of my new favorite blog, 2birds1blog, and I found this entry about a sex manual written in 1969. The whole post is worth a read, but my favorite nugget is this one, from a section about male homosexuality:
Isn't homosexuality kind of dangerous?
Homosexuals thrive on danger.
"S and M"? What does that mean?
Technically, sadist and masochist. Literally, trouble. Those who combine homosexuality with sadistic and masochistic aberrations are among the cruelest people who walk this earth. In ancient times they found employment as professional torturers and executioners. More recently they filled the ranks of Hilter's Gestapo and SS.
Now, I'm aware this is depressing and more than a little sick, but...admit it, it's also kind of hilarious. Especially because I have a gay friend who's slightly into BDSM and the mental image of him in an executioner's hood, medieval-style, makes me laugh to the point of tears.
But the best thing about this is that I too own a laughably outdated sex manual by David Reuben, MD. It's slightly more up-to-date, having been published in 1974, but it is still so. Incredibly. Funny. It answers questions such as "what kind of surprises come with nipple-pinching?" and "but *why* do adults masturbate?" This thing is for sure making an appearance at the next Happy Hour I host. Hours of fun.
But the real cherry on top here is how I got ahold of the book: I stole it from the Jail Reading Group donations bin. I'm not exactly proud of this fact, but come on - how could you not??? The cover alone informs me that it's "the most important contribution to my sexual happiness," penned by the author of "Any Woman Can!" If that's not good salesmanship I don't know what is.
Isn't homosexuality kind of dangerous?
Homosexuals thrive on danger.
"S and M"? What does that mean?
Technically, sadist and masochist. Literally, trouble. Those who combine homosexuality with sadistic and masochistic aberrations are among the cruelest people who walk this earth. In ancient times they found employment as professional torturers and executioners. More recently they filled the ranks of Hilter's Gestapo and SS.
Now, I'm aware this is depressing and more than a little sick, but...admit it, it's also kind of hilarious. Especially because I have a gay friend who's slightly into BDSM and the mental image of him in an executioner's hood, medieval-style, makes me laugh to the point of tears.
But the best thing about this is that I too own a laughably outdated sex manual by David Reuben, MD. It's slightly more up-to-date, having been published in 1974, but it is still so. Incredibly. Funny. It answers questions such as "what kind of surprises come with nipple-pinching?" and "but *why* do adults masturbate?" This thing is for sure making an appearance at the next Happy Hour I host. Hours of fun.
But the real cherry on top here is how I got ahold of the book: I stole it from the Jail Reading Group donations bin. I'm not exactly proud of this fact, but come on - how could you not??? The cover alone informs me that it's "the most important contribution to my sexual happiness," penned by the author of "Any Woman Can!" If that's not good salesmanship I don't know what is.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Happily AU After
So I'm about to go clean my apartment and myself so as to be presentable for people tonight, but I have something to say that can't wait -
Maeve is the greatest. The. Greatest.
The greatest what, you ask? There are so many answers to that question. The best hostess. The best interior decorator. The best at performing well in academia and corporate America. (Honorable mention for EV here.) The best shopping buddy. And the best friend I've got within 1200 miles.
Now, Maeve is always all these things. But I appreciate them extra right now because I just got home from a 2-night trip to visit her in Chicago. And what a trip it was. Despite making the plans with me at the very last second, Maeve arranged to "work from home" Friday and spent the day shopping and gossiping with me, as well as staying up late Thursday to fill me up with delicious food and her brother's wine. And...the whole visit was just so, so much fun. Maeve and I don't visit nearly enough considering how close we live, and every time I see her I think how much we need to get together more. I'm hoping this will be the trip that finally gets that all the way into my thick head, and I think it will be - I'm already planning a follow-up to this visit (possibly with a friend or two in tow? stay tuned...)
However, the #1 reason Maeve wins the Friend of the Month (possibly Season or even Year, depending on how her carpet and sheets recover) is because of how incredibly solicitous, gracious and chill she was when I woke her from a sound sleep by scratching timidly at her door at 1am last night, then whispering "Maeve? I'm SO sorry...but I kind of threw up ALL OVER your apartment."
Of course, I don't remember her being any of those things at the time. But she was still all those things - even making gentle and well-deserved jokes at my expense! - this morning when I woke up on her couch. I actually laid there for 30 minutes or so debating whether or not I could get away with leaving a note and some money for a carpet shampooer and sneaking out to avoid the inevitable mortification. But then she and Pete woke up, Pete went out for liquids and McDonald's, and the choice was made for me. Like I said, she seemed genuinely willing to laugh about it, and in retrospect it is pretty hilarious now that the cleaning part is (mostly) over.
I'm going to place 30% of the blame on Pete though - mostly because I can, and because I love quantifying things like blame. We'd all been drinking together on the back deck and I was fine then - Maeve actually was the one who faded first, heading to bed. But I really wanted to go for a walk, and so Pete went out with me. And took me to a bar.
I can sympathize with being destination-oriented; I used to be that way myself. And Pete doesn't know me that well, and couldn't have known I would insist on us doing a shot after our drink. However...the last thing I needed was what one typically finds in a bar. And it's after that ill-advised Kamikaze that things get reaaaaaaally hazy, nauseous and ultimately tragic. I mean, dude. I've thrown up before - I'm a 26-year-old ex-frat groupie. But not since college (or possibly once or twice early MA year when we were all acting like we were in college). And never, ever in a room whose floor is covered in anything but linoleum tile. For realz. And I've never needed someone to clean up after me. Ever.
But if the milestone had to be crossed, I'm glad it was with her. Because if that story's going to be told, at least it's by someone whose version makes me sound like a cute and forlorn 6-year-old, not the aging boozehound I'd inevitably be if the story was being told by, say...Justin.
Oh God I'm glad it wasn't Justin. He makes my momentary drift onto the shoulder of 95 into a brush with almost certain death at the hands of a mortally incompetent female driver, so God knows what would have happened here. Plus he'd have had no idea how to clean the carpet.
So yes. I had a wonderful, mature, heart-warming escape from Madison with Maeve this weekend that concluded by chowing down on double cheeseburgers and fries with my hungover best friend in the Midwest and her even more hungover boyfriend. Epic.
And PS - want to meet this wizard of awesome? Pick a weekend, baby. Because she's planning a huge party at the end of the summer and has extended an open invitation to all my Madison buddies. Because she's the coolest ever. BECCA AND MAEVE 4 LIFE!!!!11
Maeve is the greatest. The. Greatest.
The greatest what, you ask? There are so many answers to that question. The best hostess. The best interior decorator. The best at performing well in academia and corporate America. (Honorable mention for EV here.) The best shopping buddy. And the best friend I've got within 1200 miles.
Now, Maeve is always all these things. But I appreciate them extra right now because I just got home from a 2-night trip to visit her in Chicago. And what a trip it was. Despite making the plans with me at the very last second, Maeve arranged to "work from home" Friday and spent the day shopping and gossiping with me, as well as staying up late Thursday to fill me up with delicious food and her brother's wine. And...the whole visit was just so, so much fun. Maeve and I don't visit nearly enough considering how close we live, and every time I see her I think how much we need to get together more. I'm hoping this will be the trip that finally gets that all the way into my thick head, and I think it will be - I'm already planning a follow-up to this visit (possibly with a friend or two in tow? stay tuned...)
However, the #1 reason Maeve wins the Friend of the Month (possibly Season or even Year, depending on how her carpet and sheets recover) is because of how incredibly solicitous, gracious and chill she was when I woke her from a sound sleep by scratching timidly at her door at 1am last night, then whispering "Maeve? I'm SO sorry...but I kind of threw up ALL OVER your apartment."
Of course, I don't remember her being any of those things at the time. But she was still all those things - even making gentle and well-deserved jokes at my expense! - this morning when I woke up on her couch. I actually laid there for 30 minutes or so debating whether or not I could get away with leaving a note and some money for a carpet shampooer and sneaking out to avoid the inevitable mortification. But then she and Pete woke up, Pete went out for liquids and McDonald's, and the choice was made for me. Like I said, she seemed genuinely willing to laugh about it, and in retrospect it is pretty hilarious now that the cleaning part is (mostly) over.
I'm going to place 30% of the blame on Pete though - mostly because I can, and because I love quantifying things like blame. We'd all been drinking together on the back deck and I was fine then - Maeve actually was the one who faded first, heading to bed. But I really wanted to go for a walk, and so Pete went out with me. And took me to a bar.
I can sympathize with being destination-oriented; I used to be that way myself. And Pete doesn't know me that well, and couldn't have known I would insist on us doing a shot after our drink. However...the last thing I needed was what one typically finds in a bar. And it's after that ill-advised Kamikaze that things get reaaaaaaally hazy, nauseous and ultimately tragic. I mean, dude. I've thrown up before - I'm a 26-year-old ex-frat groupie. But not since college (or possibly once or twice early MA year when we were all acting like we were in college). And never, ever in a room whose floor is covered in anything but linoleum tile. For realz. And I've never needed someone to clean up after me. Ever.
But if the milestone had to be crossed, I'm glad it was with her. Because if that story's going to be told, at least it's by someone whose version makes me sound like a cute and forlorn 6-year-old, not the aging boozehound I'd inevitably be if the story was being told by, say...Justin.
Oh God I'm glad it wasn't Justin. He makes my momentary drift onto the shoulder of 95 into a brush with almost certain death at the hands of a mortally incompetent female driver, so God knows what would have happened here. Plus he'd have had no idea how to clean the carpet.
So yes. I had a wonderful, mature, heart-warming escape from Madison with Maeve this weekend that concluded by chowing down on double cheeseburgers and fries with my hungover best friend in the Midwest and her even more hungover boyfriend. Epic.
And PS - want to meet this wizard of awesome? Pick a weekend, baby. Because she's planning a huge party at the end of the summer and has extended an open invitation to all my Madison buddies. Because she's the coolest ever. BECCA AND MAEVE 4 LIFE!!!!11
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Convince Yourself That Everything is Alright
'cause it already is.
It doesn't quite belong on the All-Timers list, but "For Nancy" is a pretty epic song in my personal music history. Suggested by Jefferson, began my still-strong love affair with Pete Yorn, explained a song reference I'd wondered about for ages, led me to "Undercover," which was a major track on my Limoges soundtrack.
Plus, talk about words I should live by.
----
Cape party was fun. Less crazy than I'd expected, but still really fun. There was running around shirtless in the rain (not on my part, but on others'), a host on stilts, beer margaritas (which, honestly, tasted like normal margaritas to me - which is fine in my book), and people I hadn't seen in awhile and was happy to catch up with. Also, after talking to Paul and Andrew about their experiences at Burning Man and shooting Jamie a text, I think there's a chance that the vow we made sophomore year to go together someday might actually be carried out next year. After all, she's finally moving back, back within a single day's drive of me. We *have* to do something epic to celebrate her first year back.
Been reading old LJ entries. Makes me feel nostalgic, yes, but also good. While many of the entries do highlight just how painfully naive I was about the world, they also remind me that despite losing some of that naivite and growing up, I have not become a different person. I'm the same Becca I was then - I write journal entries more or less the same way, I react to things in fundamentally the same way, the same kinds of things make me happy now that made me happy then. I'm just older now - and better at a lot of things as a result.
Go summer. Still gotta find something to drive my daytime hours, but really...I'm getting a lot of what I needed most anyhow. Gotta stop staying up until 3:30 writing and having dance parties in front of my mirror though. It doesn't help with the whole "getting up at a reasonable time and doing stuff" thing.
It doesn't quite belong on the All-Timers list, but "For Nancy" is a pretty epic song in my personal music history. Suggested by Jefferson, began my still-strong love affair with Pete Yorn, explained a song reference I'd wondered about for ages, led me to "Undercover," which was a major track on my Limoges soundtrack.
Plus, talk about words I should live by.
----
Cape party was fun. Less crazy than I'd expected, but still really fun. There was running around shirtless in the rain (not on my part, but on others'), a host on stilts, beer margaritas (which, honestly, tasted like normal margaritas to me - which is fine in my book), and people I hadn't seen in awhile and was happy to catch up with. Also, after talking to Paul and Andrew about their experiences at Burning Man and shooting Jamie a text, I think there's a chance that the vow we made sophomore year to go together someday might actually be carried out next year. After all, she's finally moving back, back within a single day's drive of me. We *have* to do something epic to celebrate her first year back.
Been reading old LJ entries. Makes me feel nostalgic, yes, but also good. While many of the entries do highlight just how painfully naive I was about the world, they also remind me that despite losing some of that naivite and growing up, I have not become a different person. I'm the same Becca I was then - I write journal entries more or less the same way, I react to things in fundamentally the same way, the same kinds of things make me happy now that made me happy then. I'm just older now - and better at a lot of things as a result.
Go summer. Still gotta find something to drive my daytime hours, but really...I'm getting a lot of what I needed most anyhow. Gotta stop staying up until 3:30 writing and having dance parties in front of my mirror though. It doesn't help with the whole "getting up at a reasonable time and doing stuff" thing.
Coming Up Milhouse
The last few days have been really great.
Like every year in Madison so far, this summer is not unfolding the way I imagined it beforehand, but in a way that actually ends up being better for me. (Not necessarily better, though.)
And I really want to hit a Mallards game with people. Gotta make that dream a reality ASAP.
Like every year in Madison so far, this summer is not unfolding the way I imagined it beforehand, but in a way that actually ends up being better for me. (Not necessarily better, though.)
And I really want to hit a Mallards game with people. Gotta make that dream a reality ASAP.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
...Wow
So I have already had trouble sleeping soundly (due to seeing a motherfucking earwig on the floor next to my bed), and it seems now I may have trouble eating too. Because I found one tonight *on my kitchen counter*. As in totally within reach of crawling into my crackers, popcorn, cereal, etc. And that...that is Not Cool. I've already been jumping hugely when I feel any brush on my skin (which is tough when your hair has just grown to shoulder-length), and I am dehydrated because the pitcher I use for water has an open spout, meaning I can't trust it.
Do I know all this is insane? Kind of. I honestly feel justified in my fear of dumping food on my plate and seeing bugs crawl out of it - even though the apt is so clean it's received unsolicited compliments to that effect. But I know also that they're harmless...but...I'm fucking freaking out.
Called and left a message at the Apt company - if only to give me the support to call again tomorrow. Because now I know they know I'm having a problem, so it's easier to call about it.
God. GOD. Why couldn't I have just been afraid of clowns? So much less likely to appear than earwigs. Way more avoidable.
Argh,
Do I know all this is insane? Kind of. I honestly feel justified in my fear of dumping food on my plate and seeing bugs crawl out of it - even though the apt is so clean it's received unsolicited compliments to that effect. But I know also that they're harmless...but...I'm fucking freaking out.
Called and left a message at the Apt company - if only to give me the support to call again tomorrow. Because now I know they know I'm having a problem, so it's easier to call about it.
God. GOD. Why couldn't I have just been afraid of clowns? So much less likely to appear than earwigs. Way more avoidable.
Argh,
Monday, June 21, 2010
Il pleut dans la rue
I love summer thunderstorms. Even if they make Polo abandon me to take shelter under the bed.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Oh My GOD
How did I forget how much I hate bugs? Holy God, I hate them. It's my most irrational and childish fear, but I've never been able to shake it. I actually have made more progress with spiders than with bugs; I can handle spiders (up to a certain size) now, but oh man....
Five minutes ago I found an earwig ON MY PERSON in my apartment. And I'm still *freaking out*. Like, legitimately and actually unable to relax because I am now terrified there will be another one.
I need to get ahold of myself and nip this in the bud, because when my fear of bugs gets out of hand, it's baaaaad. When I was about 5 I wouldn't eat any food I couldn't clearly see all of (in case it contained bugs) or drink from opaque cups, or drink any opaque liquid. Because of bugs. In college I had a bug freakout and couldn't sleep for like 4 days because a bug might crawl on me. It's *so* stupid, and I'm try- [pauses to slap head and examine a phantom itch for signs of bugs] - trying to tell myself that logically, 99.9% of bugs liable to turn up in my apt are harmless and at worst going to give me a little sting like a mosquito (they don't bother me for some reason). But...God I hate them.
Anyhow. If anyone has tips for keeping bugs out of my apartment, send them my way. Please. For my sanity's sake. I'm going to do a little Googling, but if I read too much about it (especially earwigs, which are THE WORST AND MOST HORRIFYING bugs ever) I will probably not be able to eat, sleep or exist in my apartment ever again.
*deep breath* It's fine. You're fine. You've only ever seen one here, the place is super-clean, relax. Please.
Five minutes ago I found an earwig ON MY PERSON in my apartment. And I'm still *freaking out*. Like, legitimately and actually unable to relax because I am now terrified there will be another one.
I need to get ahold of myself and nip this in the bud, because when my fear of bugs gets out of hand, it's baaaaad. When I was about 5 I wouldn't eat any food I couldn't clearly see all of (in case it contained bugs) or drink from opaque cups, or drink any opaque liquid. Because of bugs. In college I had a bug freakout and couldn't sleep for like 4 days because a bug might crawl on me. It's *so* stupid, and I'm try- [pauses to slap head and examine a phantom itch for signs of bugs] - trying to tell myself that logically, 99.9% of bugs liable to turn up in my apt are harmless and at worst going to give me a little sting like a mosquito (they don't bother me for some reason). But...God I hate them.
Anyhow. If anyone has tips for keeping bugs out of my apartment, send them my way. Please. For my sanity's sake. I'm going to do a little Googling, but if I read too much about it (especially earwigs, which are THE WORST AND MOST HORRIFYING bugs ever) I will probably not be able to eat, sleep or exist in my apartment ever again.
*deep breath* It's fine. You're fine. You've only ever seen one here, the place is super-clean, relax. Please.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Almost Like a Time Machine
So I stumbled upon this blog post recently, and wow. Talk about songs that I kind of love but haven't crossed my mind in years. The picture of the lead singer she gives is especially disturbing. But somehow I still respect his assertion that he can never be my woman. Maybe even more, really.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Music Affairs Pt I: Never Played Out
While I was on my trip, I had a conversation with my sister about the songs we never get tired of. That no matter how many times we listen to them, they're never tired and always awesome. They're not necessarily your favorite songs of all time (though some of them may be on that list as well) - just the ones that are in it for the long haul. I really only have a handful that make top-tier there - but I'm ok with that.
The List:
- "Sparks Are Gonna Fly," Catherine Wheel: Come on Daisy don't drown me this time. The ultimate gym song, and really just great any time you want to feel a little edgy and a little sexy. It wasn't among their few modest hits - weirdly, all those are kind of soft-at-the-edges rock ballads. But I've loved this song for almost a decade now, and still never get tired of it. By far among my favorite songs - maybe even the top spot.
- "Semi-Charmed Life," Third Eye Blind: I've loved this song well over a decade. I remember having it stuck in my head during one of the PT sessions for Cardigan, so at least since 8th grade. It's kind of crept up on me - it was never a song I loved passionately or couldn't stop listening to, but as time has passed, I've realized that I just never, ever get tired of it. I'm always psyched when it comes on, it's perfect for singing along with, everyone knows it (and even if they don't love it, they almost certainly don't hate it - how could you?), and while it doesn't get old, it also evokes a different time. Late 90s rock FTW. [Also, I just looked on iTunes and found that this song is significantly less popular than "Jumper." How can that be?!? Stupid people and their not sharing my cultural judgments.]
- "Mr. Brightsides," The Killers: I remember exactly where I was when I heard this song for the first time - sitting in Trixie in the band parking lot at West, waiting for my brother to get out of school. I was freshly back from studying abroad, and trying to catch up on American music that wasn't "Survivor" or "Love Don't Cost a Thing." The Killers have a lot of songs I really dig - I'm one of like, ten people who loved "Sam's Town" - but "Brightsides" is the home run. Something about the way it rises and falls, how even the nonsensical lyrics ("turning snakes into the sea?") add to the sense of pain and resignation. Maybe it's the resignation that seals the deal - not a lot of songs out there memorialize the bitter acceptance stage of rejected love.
- "The Church of John Coltrane," St. Jude's Infirmary: Talk about obscure. Jamie introduced me to this song while I was in Limoges; though we have never verified personally, apparently it's the only great song the band has. But what a song. Eerie and haunting, great use of organ, awesome build-up of energy and emotion culminating in possibly the best spoken-word interlude of all time (in a heavy Scottish accent no less). That's actually how Jamie sold me on the song initially - she told me that one of the lyrics was "We're a Capra film with the last scene missing." If I'm ever unlucky enough again to have a relationship end badly (which, let's face it, is virtual certainty), I hope it looks like that line.
- "The Crane Wife Part I & II," The Decemberists: Though it was "July July" that gave me Decemberists fever (again, thank you Jamie), this is the one that has the most staying power. It's not that's it's my favorite of their songs - they've got so many great ones I'm not even sure I could pick a favorite. But this is the one I'm always in the mood for; it stirs me every time I hear it. It might be that I listened to it a lot before the first time Jamie, Tom and I were together in Oxford, right after he was accepted. I would put it on repeat and go through my daily errands in Limoges, picturing the three of us together running around Oxford, and it made me happy. I think something of that clings to it. And it's also another one that does a great job building intensity - in both halves.
- "Marching Bands of Manhattan," Death Cab for Cutie: My love of Death Cab really snuck up on me. By the time I downloaded my first DCC album Give Up had already been one of my all-time favorite albums for a few years, but for some reason I never moved on from there until Limoges. And while I love almost all of Plans, this is the clear standout. Like "Brightsides," I find it almost desperately sad, but also incredibly beautiful. I was at kind of an emotional crossroads when I first heard it, and the outro really hit me; it didn't exactly make me feel better, but it made me feel, which was enough at the time. Plus, it's just good advice, you know?
- "Alone in Kyoto," Air: On one of my visits to Jamie, I ended up (for a lot of stupid reasons I won't get into) booking my return flight two nights after she had to leave for vacation. Rachel was kind enough to put me up for the last night, but she couldn't meet me until like 8:30. Desperate to see the back of Oxford, I took an early bus to London and spent the day wandering around. (This was less awesome than it sounds because I had to carry my not-insignificant duffel bag the whole time.) By late afternoon I was tired and somewhat sad; the end of my Oxford trip had not gone well, and I felt humiliated and very aware of my personal flaws. I ended up on the riverbank outside the Tate Modern around dusk; I remember staring out over the Thames at the greyness of the city until I so cold I had to get moving again. And that's when I put on "Alone in Kyoto." And...and everything I remember after that feels different. I remember walking along the river, past an old-fashioned ship, across endless open courtyards, through crowds, with the interiors of everything around me glowing as the sky outside turned from grey to navy to black. The feeling that I was 22 and alone in London became wonderful and precious, rather than awful. And the music was a major part of that, as much as the time of day or the scenery; every time the song neared the end, I started it again. It's one of the best and most treasured memories I have from that year, maybe because I so rarely feel any of the things now that I felt then: young, alive, peaceful, like everything had yet to happen. I try not to listen to "Alone" too often now; like smoking a clove at dusk or the smell of Old Spice, it can take me back to a specific place very clearly, and I don't ever want to lose that place.
There are a few others that come close, and a whole bunch that might have made it had I been able to exercise any restraint when I first heard them but which I overplayed, to the point that they still retain that tinge of exhaustion ever years later. They will probably get their own list at some point, though probably without such extensive commentary. Same for albums - while I'm not a purist about albums and pick and choose from them with impunity, there are a handful that stand out. (One of which, weirdly, is the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack. Oh the power of nostalgia.)
I'm interested in what's on other people's lists - what are your Inexhaustibles?
The List:
- "Sparks Are Gonna Fly," Catherine Wheel: Come on Daisy don't drown me this time. The ultimate gym song, and really just great any time you want to feel a little edgy and a little sexy. It wasn't among their few modest hits - weirdly, all those are kind of soft-at-the-edges rock ballads. But I've loved this song for almost a decade now, and still never get tired of it. By far among my favorite songs - maybe even the top spot.
- "Semi-Charmed Life," Third Eye Blind: I've loved this song well over a decade. I remember having it stuck in my head during one of the PT sessions for Cardigan, so at least since 8th grade. It's kind of crept up on me - it was never a song I loved passionately or couldn't stop listening to, but as time has passed, I've realized that I just never, ever get tired of it. I'm always psyched when it comes on, it's perfect for singing along with, everyone knows it (and even if they don't love it, they almost certainly don't hate it - how could you?), and while it doesn't get old, it also evokes a different time. Late 90s rock FTW. [Also, I just looked on iTunes and found that this song is significantly less popular than "Jumper." How can that be?!? Stupid people and their not sharing my cultural judgments.]
- "Mr. Brightsides," The Killers: I remember exactly where I was when I heard this song for the first time - sitting in Trixie in the band parking lot at West, waiting for my brother to get out of school. I was freshly back from studying abroad, and trying to catch up on American music that wasn't "Survivor" or "Love Don't Cost a Thing." The Killers have a lot of songs I really dig - I'm one of like, ten people who loved "Sam's Town" - but "Brightsides" is the home run. Something about the way it rises and falls, how even the nonsensical lyrics ("turning snakes into the sea?") add to the sense of pain and resignation. Maybe it's the resignation that seals the deal - not a lot of songs out there memorialize the bitter acceptance stage of rejected love.
- "The Church of John Coltrane," St. Jude's Infirmary: Talk about obscure. Jamie introduced me to this song while I was in Limoges; though we have never verified personally, apparently it's the only great song the band has. But what a song. Eerie and haunting, great use of organ, awesome build-up of energy and emotion culminating in possibly the best spoken-word interlude of all time (in a heavy Scottish accent no less). That's actually how Jamie sold me on the song initially - she told me that one of the lyrics was "We're a Capra film with the last scene missing." If I'm ever unlucky enough again to have a relationship end badly (which, let's face it, is virtual certainty), I hope it looks like that line.
- "The Crane Wife Part I & II," The Decemberists: Though it was "July July" that gave me Decemberists fever (again, thank you Jamie), this is the one that has the most staying power. It's not that's it's my favorite of their songs - they've got so many great ones I'm not even sure I could pick a favorite. But this is the one I'm always in the mood for; it stirs me every time I hear it. It might be that I listened to it a lot before the first time Jamie, Tom and I were together in Oxford, right after he was accepted. I would put it on repeat and go through my daily errands in Limoges, picturing the three of us together running around Oxford, and it made me happy. I think something of that clings to it. And it's also another one that does a great job building intensity - in both halves.
- "Marching Bands of Manhattan," Death Cab for Cutie: My love of Death Cab really snuck up on me. By the time I downloaded my first DCC album Give Up had already been one of my all-time favorite albums for a few years, but for some reason I never moved on from there until Limoges. And while I love almost all of Plans, this is the clear standout. Like "Brightsides," I find it almost desperately sad, but also incredibly beautiful. I was at kind of an emotional crossroads when I first heard it, and the outro really hit me; it didn't exactly make me feel better, but it made me feel, which was enough at the time. Plus, it's just good advice, you know?
- "Alone in Kyoto," Air: On one of my visits to Jamie, I ended up (for a lot of stupid reasons I won't get into) booking my return flight two nights after she had to leave for vacation. Rachel was kind enough to put me up for the last night, but she couldn't meet me until like 8:30. Desperate to see the back of Oxford, I took an early bus to London and spent the day wandering around. (This was less awesome than it sounds because I had to carry my not-insignificant duffel bag the whole time.) By late afternoon I was tired and somewhat sad; the end of my Oxford trip had not gone well, and I felt humiliated and very aware of my personal flaws. I ended up on the riverbank outside the Tate Modern around dusk; I remember staring out over the Thames at the greyness of the city until I so cold I had to get moving again. And that's when I put on "Alone in Kyoto." And...and everything I remember after that feels different. I remember walking along the river, past an old-fashioned ship, across endless open courtyards, through crowds, with the interiors of everything around me glowing as the sky outside turned from grey to navy to black. The feeling that I was 22 and alone in London became wonderful and precious, rather than awful. And the music was a major part of that, as much as the time of day or the scenery; every time the song neared the end, I started it again. It's one of the best and most treasured memories I have from that year, maybe because I so rarely feel any of the things now that I felt then: young, alive, peaceful, like everything had yet to happen. I try not to listen to "Alone" too often now; like smoking a clove at dusk or the smell of Old Spice, it can take me back to a specific place very clearly, and I don't ever want to lose that place.
There are a few others that come close, and a whole bunch that might have made it had I been able to exercise any restraint when I first heard them but which I overplayed, to the point that they still retain that tinge of exhaustion ever years later. They will probably get their own list at some point, though probably without such extensive commentary. Same for albums - while I'm not a purist about albums and pick and choose from them with impunity, there are a handful that stand out. (One of which, weirdly, is the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack. Oh the power of nostalgia.)
I'm interested in what's on other people's lists - what are your Inexhaustibles?
Friday, June 11, 2010
A Few General Things
- I like the new Design options Blogger's got. Probably will be fiddling with those a bit for awhile.
- Why oh why is the interface for MadCat so (as Dan Savage might say) leotarded? Seriously, do you *really* need me to enter my ID number three times in order to request a book? Why isn't the once enough? Especially if I'm logged in remotely! And why is the System Search so unnecessarily slow, and why does it display that completely unnecessary first page?
- In case it's not clear - today I requested a metric fuckton of books from the library. Vacation is officially over.
- I also listened to at least twelve Savage Lovecasts during my 60-odd hours of driving last month. Also a lot of "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" - shit's hilarious. I kind of want to go to a taping now.
- Still obsessed with The ArchAndroid. A tip of the hat to you, Andrew, for recommending it.
- I really want a job. That's not childcare. I'm going to try to find some to apply to this weekend. I don't really *feel* like having a job, but I know if I could find one I'd be happier. And not starving in a gutter come mid-August. Anyone got any ideas? I'm thinking retail or coffeeshop. Or anything that pays where the average age of employees is no more than 30. Can't be too picky.
- On that note - NO clue how I'm going to scrape up a security deposit and first month's rent if/when I find a new place. Even for a modest place that represents at least 2/3 of my current assets.
- My GOD my cats shed a lot. How did I forget this fact? Also I appear to be allergic to them again. Awesome.
- Every summer I think to myself around this time, "Surely this is the most annoying and inconvenient combination of construction projects the city could have chosen." And every year I am surprised to find that no, it can be more annoying. Or at the very least, at the same level as previous. Closing Park St at University? Making the road in front of the Union one-way? Shoot me now. I've got to get on fixing my bike. Though probably the most annoying project to me personally was the first summer, when they tore up the entire fucking road in front of my house - not just like, for resurfacing. They dug down into that shit like 5 feet. SO annoying. Just leave the roads to rot and let me jar my aging car to death in peace. Thanks.
- Madison is really beautiful, though. I took a leisurely walk through Tenney park yesterday, and it's really gorgeous here. In summer anyhow.
- It's kind of nice to be back. Back with my own stuff, back catching up with Madison people, back talking shop after 2 (or 3) (or 4) glasses of wine. Though it'll depend a lot on how the job search turns out, I can definitely see a routine coming together for the next few months, and it's not a bad one. I'm pretty pumped about a lot of the reading I have to do - a sign if ever there was one that this jump to C/R was a good one. Thinking about the theory section of my Lit prelims list was enough to make me break into hives. And a cold sweat. And a bottle of Xanax.
- That said...I do kinda want to take another trip this summer. Even just back to the East Coast to help Ben move. So again - hope the job thing comes through.
- Why oh why is the interface for MadCat so (as Dan Savage might say) leotarded? Seriously, do you *really* need me to enter my ID number three times in order to request a book? Why isn't the once enough? Especially if I'm logged in remotely! And why is the System Search so unnecessarily slow, and why does it display that completely unnecessary first page?
- In case it's not clear - today I requested a metric fuckton of books from the library. Vacation is officially over.
- I also listened to at least twelve Savage Lovecasts during my 60-odd hours of driving last month. Also a lot of "Wait Wait Don't Tell Me" - shit's hilarious. I kind of want to go to a taping now.
- Still obsessed with The ArchAndroid. A tip of the hat to you, Andrew, for recommending it.
- I really want a job. That's not childcare. I'm going to try to find some to apply to this weekend. I don't really *feel* like having a job, but I know if I could find one I'd be happier. And not starving in a gutter come mid-August. Anyone got any ideas? I'm thinking retail or coffeeshop. Or anything that pays where the average age of employees is no more than 30. Can't be too picky.
- On that note - NO clue how I'm going to scrape up a security deposit and first month's rent if/when I find a new place. Even for a modest place that represents at least 2/3 of my current assets.
- My GOD my cats shed a lot. How did I forget this fact? Also I appear to be allergic to them again. Awesome.
- Every summer I think to myself around this time, "Surely this is the most annoying and inconvenient combination of construction projects the city could have chosen." And every year I am surprised to find that no, it can be more annoying. Or at the very least, at the same level as previous. Closing Park St at University? Making the road in front of the Union one-way? Shoot me now. I've got to get on fixing my bike. Though probably the most annoying project to me personally was the first summer, when they tore up the entire fucking road in front of my house - not just like, for resurfacing. They dug down into that shit like 5 feet. SO annoying. Just leave the roads to rot and let me jar my aging car to death in peace. Thanks.
- Madison is really beautiful, though. I took a leisurely walk through Tenney park yesterday, and it's really gorgeous here. In summer anyhow.
- It's kind of nice to be back. Back with my own stuff, back catching up with Madison people, back talking shop after 2 (or 3) (or 4) glasses of wine. Though it'll depend a lot on how the job search turns out, I can definitely see a routine coming together for the next few months, and it's not a bad one. I'm pretty pumped about a lot of the reading I have to do - a sign if ever there was one that this jump to C/R was a good one. Thinking about the theory section of my Lit prelims list was enough to make me break into hives. And a cold sweat. And a bottle of Xanax.
- That said...I do kinda want to take another trip this summer. Even just back to the East Coast to help Ben move. So again - hope the job thing comes through.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
You can take the girl off the East Coast....
But you can't take the East Coast out of the girl.
95's the only freeway for me.
95's the only freeway for me.
Friday, June 4, 2010
East Coast Road Trip: The Educational Inventory
Sweet things I've (re)discovered this trip:
- ribeye steak
- fresh wild strawberries
- little cousins in sunglasses
- freshly painted nails
- sibling sympathy
- shopping (with restraint, naturally)
- The joy that is Matt Smith as the Eleventh Doctor
- roof pools
- old college friends
- flipcup
- gradual tanning lotion
- lying out
- city summer nights
- metro systems
- public health
- public health professionals
- Sam Summer
- old high school friends
- New Hampshire in late afternoon
- childhood friends
- family friends
- weddings
- Panera
- Janella Monae
- DVR
- long drives
- short drives
- Washington Heights
- podcasts
- Savage Love
- This American Life
- Wait Wait Don't Tell Me
- big city life
- late nights
- early mornings
- dancing
- stomping, pouting and/or creeping
- AU Park
- small dogs
- The Boondocks
- jersey sheets
- breakfast outside
- house parties
- high heels
- wholesale beverage warehouses
- copper sunglasses
- Marshalls
- beer of many shapes and sizes
- the fact that I am, in fact, 26 at heart. Maximum.
- ...did I already mention the Eleventh Doctor?
- ribeye steak
- fresh wild strawberries
- little cousins in sunglasses
- freshly painted nails
- sibling sympathy
- shopping (with restraint, naturally)
- The joy that is Matt Smith as the Eleventh Doctor
- roof pools
- old college friends
- flipcup
- gradual tanning lotion
- lying out
- city summer nights
- metro systems
- public health
- public health professionals
- Sam Summer
- old high school friends
- New Hampshire in late afternoon
- childhood friends
- family friends
- weddings
- Panera
- Janella Monae
- DVR
- long drives
- short drives
- Washington Heights
- podcasts
- Savage Love
- This American Life
- Wait Wait Don't Tell Me
- big city life
- late nights
- early mornings
- dancing
- stomping, pouting and/or creeping
- AU Park
- small dogs
- The Boondocks
- jersey sheets
- breakfast outside
- house parties
- high heels
- wholesale beverage warehouses
- copper sunglasses
- Marshalls
- beer of many shapes and sizes
- the fact that I am, in fact, 26 at heart. Maximum.
- ...did I already mention the Eleventh Doctor?
Thursday, April 15, 2010
So since I didn't pay any taxes this year, does that also give me some kind of super-immunity to death?
Bad: Using your 2008 W2 to fill out your 2009 tax return, resulting in a $3000 inaccuracy in your income and requiring an amendment.
Not so Bad: Discovering that amending is not only fairly easy, but that you get another 113 bucks!
If I wasn't a Liberal already, this year's tax return would really have done the trick.
Not so Bad: Discovering that amending is not only fairly easy, but that you get another 113 bucks!
If I wasn't a Liberal already, this year's tax return would really have done the trick.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Liveblogging "Lost" [Spoilerz, clearly]
8:00 - If they kill Desmond I will LOSE MY SHIT
8:01 - So my *tentative* guess is that the reason ol' Whit has been keeping Pen and Des apart might turn out to be because Desmond has some special/inevitable link with the Island, and he was trying to protect her. Also, I'm tired of his being so one-dimensional.
8:03 - First break and no flashes! Could this mean this week is waste-of-time-free?
8:04 - And back. Yes Jin, it makes perfect sense to just stand around while they threaten to fry Desmond like that guy who is now a hamburger.
8:05 - Faraday reference! Also, it's your own fault you've never met your son, you dick. Also - don't anyone ask what he means by saying everyone will disappear! Because that would be crazy!
8:06 - Lamest. Explanation. Ever. No wonder none of the castaways are grad students. We would NOT stand for this questionable rhetoric.
8:08 - AHHHHH! HE FLASHES! I KNEW IT! Totally called this like a month ago.
8:10 - Why does everyone on this show remind me of my uncle? Maybe it's all the planes. Also - is he a Whitmore flunkie? And who is that driver?
8:11 - I wear my sunglasses in a tinted-window car/So I can, so I can...
8:13 - I want a Kindle. These twee little hipster ads have worked on me.
8:15 - Looks like this episode is going to parallel the post-blast one. And OMG it's all coming together! Faraday and Charlie and Des - Oh my!
8:16 - Can you say "heavy-handed?"
8:18 - ...can you say "heavy-handed?" Though it's cute that Charlie is in love with Claire again.
8:20 - OH MY GOD. He had a near-death and he saw Claire? Does that mean she's dead? (Also - overlap with Flashforward much?)
8:20 - Fuck on a stick I love Desmond. Even douchey heartless Desmond. But it's not his fault 'cause Penny apparently was never born.
8:22 - HIJINX!
8:23 - Fuck. Me. Shit just got real.
8:26 - Fucking storm. I am now sitting right next to the antennae, at a really awkward angle to the TV, and it's still skipping from time to time. Teach me not to go to Jevin's.
8:27 - That Friskies commercial is fucking trippy.
8:29 - Aww, no full-frontal chest? Tease. But now he looks like old Des again.
8:30 - Is that like me listing "Biddy Martin" as my emergency contact?
8:31 - MRIs are really boring. I wish I'd had awesome hallucinations in mine.
8:32 - Jack attack! With his awesomely bad hair.
8:33 - I didn't know this episode moved to an HCW stairwell!
8:34 - It's Exposition Charlie! "None of this matters!" Amen Charlie, amen. My feelings about the parallel universes exactly.
8:38 - Mrs. Hawking = still a raging bitch. Or IS she?
8:41 - Oooo! Happenings! She still is in control of everything!
8:42 - Oh. Em. Gee. Don't try to keep Des and Pen apart, you fool. Love conquers all!
8:43 - Ahhhhhhhhhh.
8:47 - "V is for survival"?? Not last I checked.
8:48 - So he saw Charlotte. Why do they all see their loves? It's working, but it seems sappy.
8:49 - Is Desmond still his Constant?? Also, I love seeing Normal Faraday.
8:53 - Ah...the "grass is greener" idea. And - wow. How does he know? What did he see?
8:56 - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! And now the stadium!! Why the Jack parallel?
8:57 - She's training for the race maybe - why? For ol' Whit's approval?
8:58 - Thank God that wasn't the last scene, where they stare at each other.
8:59 - Ahhhh! Sayid'd!
8:59 - Jigga wha,,,?
9:00 - Coffee! Juliet's dying words! But obviously something will prevent his making the date.
9:01 - The manifest??
----------
Wow. So I haven't been that into this season, especially not the parallels, but this episode...damn. 100%. Why is it that Desmond always, *always* has the best episodes? This had everything - references to old plotlines, connections with the on-Island plot, real progress towards an ending...I mean, to make me wait until this far into the season to even vaguely care about the flashes was poor, but I'm not considering stopping watching and letting eps stack up until the finale like I had been. I care again - and they did it all in a flash sideways.
Ok, show writers. I believe again.
...also - called it! I knew Desmond's flash to the past when the hatch blew was the same thing that's been going on this season. Devoting too much brain space to a TV show FTW.
[PS - Elizabeth Mitchell is so fucking hot. I might start watching this bullshit show just for her.]
8:01 - So my *tentative* guess is that the reason ol' Whit has been keeping Pen and Des apart might turn out to be because Desmond has some special/inevitable link with the Island, and he was trying to protect her. Also, I'm tired of his being so one-dimensional.
8:03 - First break and no flashes! Could this mean this week is waste-of-time-free?
8:04 - And back. Yes Jin, it makes perfect sense to just stand around while they threaten to fry Desmond like that guy who is now a hamburger.
8:05 - Faraday reference! Also, it's your own fault you've never met your son, you dick. Also - don't anyone ask what he means by saying everyone will disappear! Because that would be crazy!
8:06 - Lamest. Explanation. Ever. No wonder none of the castaways are grad students. We would NOT stand for this questionable rhetoric.
8:08 - AHHHHH! HE FLASHES! I KNEW IT! Totally called this like a month ago.
8:10 - Why does everyone on this show remind me of my uncle? Maybe it's all the planes. Also - is he a Whitmore flunkie? And who is that driver?
8:11 - I wear my sunglasses in a tinted-window car/So I can, so I can...
8:13 - I want a Kindle. These twee little hipster ads have worked on me.
8:15 - Looks like this episode is going to parallel the post-blast one. And OMG it's all coming together! Faraday and Charlie and Des - Oh my!
8:16 - Can you say "heavy-handed?"
8:18 - ...can you say "heavy-handed?" Though it's cute that Charlie is in love with Claire again.
8:20 - OH MY GOD. He had a near-death and he saw Claire? Does that mean she's dead? (Also - overlap with Flashforward much?)
8:20 - Fuck on a stick I love Desmond. Even douchey heartless Desmond. But it's not his fault 'cause Penny apparently was never born.
8:22 - HIJINX!
8:23 - Fuck. Me. Shit just got real.
8:26 - Fucking storm. I am now sitting right next to the antennae, at a really awkward angle to the TV, and it's still skipping from time to time. Teach me not to go to Jevin's.
8:27 - That Friskies commercial is fucking trippy.
8:29 - Aww, no full-frontal chest? Tease. But now he looks like old Des again.
8:30 - Is that like me listing "Biddy Martin" as my emergency contact?
8:31 - MRIs are really boring. I wish I'd had awesome hallucinations in mine.
8:32 - Jack attack! With his awesomely bad hair.
8:33 - I didn't know this episode moved to an HCW stairwell!
8:34 - It's Exposition Charlie! "None of this matters!" Amen Charlie, amen. My feelings about the parallel universes exactly.
8:38 - Mrs. Hawking = still a raging bitch. Or IS she?
8:41 - Oooo! Happenings! She still is in control of everything!
8:42 - Oh. Em. Gee. Don't try to keep Des and Pen apart, you fool. Love conquers all!
8:43 - Ahhhhhhhhhh.
8:47 - "V is for survival"?? Not last I checked.
8:48 - So he saw Charlotte. Why do they all see their loves? It's working, but it seems sappy.
8:49 - Is Desmond still his Constant?? Also, I love seeing Normal Faraday.
8:53 - Ah...the "grass is greener" idea. And - wow. How does he know? What did he see?
8:56 - AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! And now the stadium!! Why the Jack parallel?
8:57 - She's training for the race maybe - why? For ol' Whit's approval?
8:58 - Thank God that wasn't the last scene, where they stare at each other.
8:59 - Ahhhh! Sayid'd!
8:59 - Jigga wha,,,?
9:00 - Coffee! Juliet's dying words! But obviously something will prevent his making the date.
9:01 - The manifest??
----------
Wow. So I haven't been that into this season, especially not the parallels, but this episode...damn. 100%. Why is it that Desmond always, *always* has the best episodes? This had everything - references to old plotlines, connections with the on-Island plot, real progress towards an ending...I mean, to make me wait until this far into the season to even vaguely care about the flashes was poor, but I'm not considering stopping watching and letting eps stack up until the finale like I had been. I care again - and they did it all in a flash sideways.
Ok, show writers. I believe again.
...also - called it! I knew Desmond's flash to the past when the hatch blew was the same thing that's been going on this season. Devoting too much brain space to a TV show FTW.
[PS - Elizabeth Mitchell is so fucking hot. I might start watching this bullshit show just for her.]
Monday, April 5, 2010
Bad NBC, Bad!
Granted I'm no connoisseur of late night TV, but...Jay Leno is not funny. Like, not even medium-low funny. Not even if I was a Conservative.
EDIT: He just commented that "Scientists say that drinking too much soda can cause sexual dysfunction in men...[well duh,] that's why they're call SOFT drinks." Is Late Night always this lame?
EDIT: He just commented that "Scientists say that drinking too much soda can cause sexual dysfunction in men...[well duh,] that's why they're call SOFT drinks." Is Late Night always this lame?
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
A Significant Milestone
Today I wrote three pages of my incomplete paper, originally due last December! And they are even the FIRST three pages, meaning I managed to write an introduction without an accompanying mental breakdown for the first time in almost a year now! Only 14 to 17 more pages to go until I complete the one-year degree program I came here for three years ago!
...actually, I'd probably settle for 12.
...actually, I'd probably settle for 12.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Growing as a Scholar My Ass
I really hate that ever since I became seriously invested in my work it's become impossible to write without major anxiety attacks. Everyone who was annoyed in the past by my ability to write a lot very fast - take comfort in the fact that the tables have turned COMPLETELY.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Upgrades
As of today, those who seek to "reach my telephone," as they say, will be reaching me on a device that's at least making a nod to not being 100 years behind the times.
Behold: the Samsung INTENSITY!
I wasn't aware they'd take to naming phones in the same manner they name cars; my last model was VX5300 or some such anonymous thing. It's unclear what is so intense about this particular model - perhaps its red color? Its clever look-at-me-I-was-just-a-USB-cord-now-I'm-a-charger accessory? Its slide-out keyboard? I'm pretty sure all these things have been standard for awhile now. But as my own middle name is similarly incongruous with my actual personal traits, I can't really hold it against it.
Other things that have apparently happened without my noticing: friendly service agreements. I have to admit, I rarely read the damn things, and when I do it's a brief scan. But I'm highly paranoid lately (like, really - I haven't even sent back my census form because I read some nut job online saying they collect our DNA off the envelope for a huge database and it's so far too much effort to close it another way - not that I *believe* that exactly, but I've been reading a little too much Harper's and...anyhow), so I read much of the Verizon one today. And they've become oddly jovial. Very "we're here to help!" and "we'll do all that's reasonable, because you're a human being like us!" Also, more and more of the info (say, what data they collect about my calls and how its used) isn't in the policy itself but only linked to elsewhere. And of course, my concern about my rights wasn't powerful enough to visit a separate page.
Anyhow. I should be writing my paper for Morris (to say nothing of the one on "Goblin Market" that I'm frankly looking forward to starting in order to finish it and drink the Veuve I've promised myself for doing so) but it's Spring Break and the house is a mess and I have a new phone and I like cleaning, so...yeah. Not so much writing. Soon I will shower and dress for GROAN, get nicely drunk with my peers/friends/collegues/etc, and christen the new phone with some drunk dials to college friends. Just because it's joining me at a point in life where I call no one except Glass Nickle and my immediate family doesn't mean it shouldn't ever get to have any fun.
I'm excited for this break. Work to do, yes, but getting that weight off my shoulders will do more for my stress levels and general well-being than any trip ever could.
I'm also perversely excited to do a Spring Cleaning. What has happened to me? I actually enjoy cleaning when I feel like I have the time, that I'm not doing it in order to put off more odious school-related work. The house has been creepy towards dirty for awhile now...neatness has been okay, but I need to pull out the vacuum and get in some corners and such. And do laundry. And figure out how to cheaply and quickly make the bedroom not clash horribly - we bought an awesome new bedding set recently, but since it is black/white/fuchsia and the rest of the room is all warm green tones, something needs to be done. And my parents are coming the weekend after break, so I want it to look nice when they see it for the first time.
Alright. On to other things. Yay!
Behold: the Samsung INTENSITY!
I wasn't aware they'd take to naming phones in the same manner they name cars; my last model was VX5300 or some such anonymous thing. It's unclear what is so intense about this particular model - perhaps its red color? Its clever look-at-me-I-was-just-a-USB-cord-now-I'm-a-charger accessory? Its slide-out keyboard? I'm pretty sure all these things have been standard for awhile now. But as my own middle name is similarly incongruous with my actual personal traits, I can't really hold it against it.Other things that have apparently happened without my noticing: friendly service agreements. I have to admit, I rarely read the damn things, and when I do it's a brief scan. But I'm highly paranoid lately (like, really - I haven't even sent back my census form because I read some nut job online saying they collect our DNA off the envelope for a huge database and it's so far too much effort to close it another way - not that I *believe* that exactly, but I've been reading a little too much Harper's and...anyhow), so I read much of the Verizon one today. And they've become oddly jovial. Very "we're here to help!" and "we'll do all that's reasonable, because you're a human being like us!" Also, more and more of the info (say, what data they collect about my calls and how its used) isn't in the policy itself but only linked to elsewhere. And of course, my concern about my rights wasn't powerful enough to visit a separate page.
Anyhow. I should be writing my paper for Morris (to say nothing of the one on "Goblin Market" that I'm frankly looking forward to starting in order to finish it and drink the Veuve I've promised myself for doing so) but it's Spring Break and the house is a mess and I have a new phone and I like cleaning, so...yeah. Not so much writing. Soon I will shower and dress for GROAN, get nicely drunk with my peers/friends/collegues/etc, and christen the new phone with some drunk dials to college friends. Just because it's joining me at a point in life where I call no one except Glass Nickle and my immediate family doesn't mean it shouldn't ever get to have any fun.
I'm excited for this break. Work to do, yes, but getting that weight off my shoulders will do more for my stress levels and general well-being than any trip ever could.
I'm also perversely excited to do a Spring Cleaning. What has happened to me? I actually enjoy cleaning when I feel like I have the time, that I'm not doing it in order to put off more odious school-related work. The house has been creepy towards dirty for awhile now...neatness has been okay, but I need to pull out the vacuum and get in some corners and such. And do laundry. And figure out how to cheaply and quickly make the bedroom not clash horribly - we bought an awesome new bedding set recently, but since it is black/white/fuchsia and the rest of the room is all warm green tones, something needs to be done. And my parents are coming the weekend after break, so I want it to look nice when they see it for the first time.
Alright. On to other things. Yay!
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
March Forth
It's spring early. I like that. Though I feel a bit guilty saying so, having just attended a book discussion about global warming.
The discussion was interesting for a number of reasons. One is that it was the first discussion I've been to at UW that A) was predominantly grad students and B) counted me as the only Humanities representative. It was largely agro/soil grad students, with a few from Law. Really interesting to experience, because while everyone (or everyone who spoke up) was in favor of environmental conservation and reform, everyone still reacted very differently to the book.
Which brings me to the other thing that was notable (to me). Though there was a lot of good discussion of perspectives, points, factual basis, etc, I was the only one who seemed interested (or at least, interested enough to bring it up) in the book as a rhetorical object. Reading the book (Soil Not Oil by...someone) (I just got it today and skimmed its 144 pages), I was overwhelmingly drawn to questions of intended audience and argument structure, both of which seemed problematic. As one girl put it, the book seemed written for "the ignorant cheerleader" of environmentalism - lots of facts to back up green views, but no argument that could hope to sway an opposing view. It managed to combine the two problems I see most in student theses - both not arguable AND lacking analysis to support claims.
But no one else cared much about this. Which is fine. It was just a very illuminating disciplinary moment - where people's straightforward, common-language interests in this easy-to-read book were clearly delineated by field. This isn't surprising - just one of those things I knew abstractly until tonight, but now have seen in action.
It was nice - I'm glad I went. Contact with other grad students FTW.
...I had other things to say but now Andy is home and I'm tired of typing. I'm hoping to write more here in general though...I used to write in my Livejournal extensively, almost every day, and I miss both having that outlet to unfold my thoughts and having a record of what I was doing. Today I quite literally had trouble remembering what I did yesterday; combined with the fact that I often feel like I'm wasting my 20s on jumping useless academic hoops and procrastination I'm too stressed to enjoy, it seems like keeping a closer record of how I spend my time and I how feel about it could only help, whether as diagnosis tool or comfort.
Also: wine is delicious. And I really hope tonight's Lost didn't suck.
The discussion was interesting for a number of reasons. One is that it was the first discussion I've been to at UW that A) was predominantly grad students and B) counted me as the only Humanities representative. It was largely agro/soil grad students, with a few from Law. Really interesting to experience, because while everyone (or everyone who spoke up) was in favor of environmental conservation and reform, everyone still reacted very differently to the book.
Which brings me to the other thing that was notable (to me). Though there was a lot of good discussion of perspectives, points, factual basis, etc, I was the only one who seemed interested (or at least, interested enough to bring it up) in the book as a rhetorical object. Reading the book (Soil Not Oil by...someone) (I just got it today and skimmed its 144 pages), I was overwhelmingly drawn to questions of intended audience and argument structure, both of which seemed problematic. As one girl put it, the book seemed written for "the ignorant cheerleader" of environmentalism - lots of facts to back up green views, but no argument that could hope to sway an opposing view. It managed to combine the two problems I see most in student theses - both not arguable AND lacking analysis to support claims.
But no one else cared much about this. Which is fine. It was just a very illuminating disciplinary moment - where people's straightforward, common-language interests in this easy-to-read book were clearly delineated by field. This isn't surprising - just one of those things I knew abstractly until tonight, but now have seen in action.
It was nice - I'm glad I went. Contact with other grad students FTW.
...I had other things to say but now Andy is home and I'm tired of typing. I'm hoping to write more here in general though...I used to write in my Livejournal extensively, almost every day, and I miss both having that outlet to unfold my thoughts and having a record of what I was doing. Today I quite literally had trouble remembering what I did yesterday; combined with the fact that I often feel like I'm wasting my 20s on jumping useless academic hoops and procrastination I'm too stressed to enjoy, it seems like keeping a closer record of how I spend my time and I how feel about it could only help, whether as diagnosis tool or comfort.
Also: wine is delicious. And I really hope tonight's Lost didn't suck.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Random Thoughts
- Though i maintain that we were given an absurdly small time frame given the substantial (and unclear) expectations, i'm really proud of what i managed to pull off for my recent class project, and very happy to now have those skills.
- Someday it will be warm again. Or so they tell me.
- Entourage is an entertaining show to the perfect (for now) degree - something i enjoy watching, but am not so interested in that i can't stop.
- i really, really love my cats. thought i loved my first dog, Maggie, a lot, but she was my whole family's pet, so it wasn't quite the same. i had a false alarm a few days ago that Polo had run out of the house (in fact Andy had shut him in the closet accidentally), and...i was really frightened. maybe i won't have children.
- i have already had my first legitimate nightmare about prelims. Yay.
- Having the "i" key on my computer broken and needing to cut & paste it every time is really annoying. Especially since i'm much too lazy to cut a separate letter for the caps ones.
- Someday it will be warm again. Or so they tell me.
- Entourage is an entertaining show to the perfect (for now) degree - something i enjoy watching, but am not so interested in that i can't stop.
- i really, really love my cats. thought i loved my first dog, Maggie, a lot, but she was my whole family's pet, so it wasn't quite the same. i had a false alarm a few days ago that Polo had run out of the house (in fact Andy had shut him in the closet accidentally), and...i was really frightened. maybe i won't have children.
- i have already had my first legitimate nightmare about prelims. Yay.
- Having the "i" key on my computer broken and needing to cut & paste it every time is really annoying. Especially since i'm much too lazy to cut a separate letter for the caps ones.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
My trip to Office Hours
in haiku for your viewing pleasure:
Me:
"So, um, professor,
i do not have twenty hours
to learn photoshop."
Him:
"Hours? really? i
could have sworn it was twenty
minutes. Shit. My bad."
Me:
"So, um, professor,
i do not have twenty hours
to learn photoshop."
Him:
"Hours? really? i
could have sworn it was twenty
minutes. Shit. My bad."
Thursday, January 28, 2010
AMAZING Discovery
If I use the brush from my dustpan to "sweep" my carpet, the cat hair comes RIGHT off.
Formerly I would spend 25 minutes with the cat brush painstakingly pulling it all out. This is revolutionary.
Why can't I ever discover time-savers like this for schoolwork?
Formerly I would spend 25 minutes with the cat brush painstakingly pulling it all out. This is revolutionary.
Why can't I ever discover time-savers like this for schoolwork?
Monday, January 25, 2010
"Literally, a grapefruit."
Maeve is coming to visit this weekend!
I am so excited. I haven't seen her in a year and a half, so this is well overdue. Hurray! I see tasty food, shopping trips, wine and girl talk in my near future...
I am so excited. I haven't seen her in a year and a half, so this is well overdue. Hurray! I see tasty food, shopping trips, wine and girl talk in my near future...
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Books I've Read This Break
- The Elegance of the Hedgehog, Muriel Barbary
- Fever Pitch, Nick Hornby
- The Dream-Woman and Other Stories, Wilkie Collins
- What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew, Daniel Pool
- When You Are Engulfed in Flames, David Sedaris
- Persuasion, Jane Austen
- Fever Pitch, Nick Hornby
- The Dream-Woman and Other Stories, Wilkie Collins
- What Jane Austen Ate and Charles Dickens Knew, Daniel Pool
- When You Are Engulfed in Flames, David Sedaris
- Persuasion, Jane Austen
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