Quid facio demens?

'Gullible' Is Written On The Ceiling

2005-08-29T11:43:00.000-05:00

As you probably know, Astrology is a topic I enjoy and generally I find anything about the planets fairly interesting...About a month ago, I read somewhere online about Mars coming closer to the earth than ever before on August 27th... It said that Mars would be nearly as big as the moon in the night sky. This was an interesting tidbit and so I shared it with a number of people on several occasions. That's the kind of random 'fact' that is useful when a conversation grows quiet.

I'd almost entirely forgotten about this Martian phenomenon when I turned on CNN on Saturday. The headline read "Mars Hoax." I'm such an idiot...I wonder how many people I'd told saw the news and thought me completely flaky... Just the kid in grade school who asked, "Where is it? I can't see 'gullible' anywhere!?!"

Read all about it here.

Let's talk about the weather.

2005-08-24T23:49:00.000-05:00

My first love, Alex, called me out of the blue a couple weeks ago. We were together for 3 years and before our horrible break up, I really believed we would be together forever. I suppose everyone thinks that of their first love....Enough time has passed now that I'm not angry anymore and it's been nice to talk with him again...Bored at the job that he hates at a Honda plant, Alex sent me an email in which he mentioned the weather in Ohio and how the smell of fall creeping in reminds him of Halloween in Athens, Ohio. He said his life is so boring these days that all he can write about is the weather just as like his coworkers who seem to talk about nothing else.

I find that the weather becomes a more frequent topic of conversation as I get older... It seems to be the default discussion... It's safe: no one is left out of a rant about how humid it's been lately and no one will think you're weird for bringing it up...I think that after a while people get lazy or their brains atrophy from lack use or perhaps they are with awkward people and conversation is bound to be stilted... But really- lots of folk just seem to stop caring about actually speaking with other people and talk about the weather out of habit --just so there's something other than silence... and weather talk is what happens when you don't choose to think about what comes out of your mouth... Unless, of course, the atmosphere is actually doing something remarkable.

The distinctive smell of the wind at the start of fall is probably my favorite thing to breathe in...though bittersweet...It used to be exhilarating as it was the start of the school year and I always had such hope & optimism for the year ahead...Yet it was ominous as well because that scent is the of inevitable change: your summer fun is over and now you have to get back to the grind, knowing it's just going to get dreary and bleaker with each passing day.

It's the single most cliche metaphor in human existence--the change of the seasons as age personified. These days, that break in humidity and the smell of rustling leaves ushering in the new season makes me feel old, or jaded, because hope & optimism grow distant and seem like the silly and naive ideas of children. Is this what it means to grow up ? I'm too cynical these days for anything to be so magical again... I feel like now I know better....Santa isn't real and once you know that, Christmas is never really the same again...right?

Santa doesn't really exist. Alex and I won't be married happily ever after. Life isn't easy and growing up is a slap in the face... That's how it goes- there's no escaping it. Maybe this is why people talk about the weather.

On a more positive note, I finally got a job today and I think it's going to work out...I'm excited to do something productive again...to stop feeling useless and to quit being broke and worthless...Though it has been awfully nice to have 3 months without responsibilities...Especially after the hell that was Spring semester....It's a shitty telemarketing job for a Cable Company's Customer Service...But the money's not bad and the building is across the street from my place...It felt really great to be able to call my Dad to tell him some good news...

2005-08-01T01:25:00.000-05:00

what a wonderful and painfully accurate horoscope:

Strength of character will be your partner today, Persephone. You seem to have an aura whose intensity scares some people and attracts others. Today your force of character could be the cause of some wonderful feelings and emotions for the people close to you. Don't try and hide your own emotions. They are the source of your creativity.

How true is that? I mean, about my 'intensity' scaring some and attracting others... Perhaps it's a Scorpio thing...

2005-07-31T15:25:00.000-05:00

Well Hello.

For those of you who care to know-- the scumbag who murdered my friend for $70 and 5lbs of pot received life in prison without possibility of parole. I'm glad for this, as my feelings on the death penalty are mixed. The thing about the sentence though- is this-- It doesn't really make any difference. Yes, I am glad that he is in prison and will remain there. But I don't feel any better about the whole thing. Nothing has really changed. Kayla is still gone. I kind of wish that he had to spend the rest of his life in that cell with pictures of her and Aaron and Eric plastered everywhere...I suppose that would only work if this person felt any remorse. He is still claiming that all the witnesses lied. Needless to say, this situation is still eating me up...I suspect it will for some time...

Meanwhile, in other news... My Boy is finally back in town. He'd been at home for surgery on a torn ACL until today. I'm going to go over to his new place tonight...I'm excited. I've missed him-- though I did have my fun with old flings while at home. I wonder if I'm so happy to see him because I've really missed him or because I've built him up in my head in his absence.
I have this weird way of falling in love with boys that I am friends with once I am separated from them. When a friend of mine went away to boot camp once, I convinced myself that I was in love with him. I was not. When I went away to Greece, I thought I was in love with my best friend Tyson. Nope. Now, in addition to my Boy, I have a friend who is far away and won't be back until 2006, at least. I keep thinking about him. His best friend has kinda picked up on my newfound crush--but I don't want him to know...I'm afraid that when he comes back my feelings will change. I don't know. I'm silly. Perhaps I just won't let myself grow crushes on boys that are near me because I'm afraid of getting rejected, and so I focus on those who are too far away to say no...HA! Any insights?

This week I must get a job. I'm going to apply at this call center across the street, despite the objections of my friends and former employees, because I know they'll hire me and I need the money...blah. I don't want to join the real world. I want to find a wealthy prince charming who will fall in love with me and take care of everything so I won't have to worry...not likely...

2005-07-26T22:20:00.000-05:00

Jeez! Working this hard is kicking my ass... I've been starting at 7:30 and getting home at 6pm! Then, I'll shower and eat, and then go to sleep. So,I'm announcing officially that I will only be writing occasionally until after August the 2nd. At that time I'll be done with this temp job. Meanwhile, what free time I do have is being spent reading Harry Potter-- It's only taken me a week to read 150 pages!!!!

Thanks, guys.

Work

2005-07-22T21:56:00.000-05:00

Well... I really think now that I've lost all my readers... I'm sorry guys! If you are out there, say hello--- please.

It's been a hell of a week. Little me has been working her ass off with the maintenance manager from my apartment. He manages a couple hundred apartments around here & asked me if I wanted to help him for 2 weeks...He has to get them all cleaned and prepared for new tenants by August 1st-- but not all of them are so eager to move out... Anyway, I don't think I've ever worked harder than I have in the past 6 days. Physical labor is kinda great-- for the time being. I like doing something that actually gives me a finished product when complete, and I like sweating and working so hard. It's also really nice that I've made more money this week than I've had since May...Awesome...

But, I am exhausted and tomorrow is another day of hard work. I've been working so hard that I haven't even had the energy to read the new Harry Potter... I own it-- It's been sitting here for a week...but I'm only 20 pages into it! I gotta go get to it...

Punishment?

2005-07-18T12:14:00.000-05:00

I suppose it's going to take a while for anyone to realize that I didn't disappear forever and am back to the blog. I feel like my lack of hits is punishment for having left the blog for so long. Ha.

Meanwhile, I don't feel much like writing today.

Two years ago, on July 22, my best friend, her boyfriend and his roommate were brutally murdered in Columbus, Ohio. In September, the police made 3 arrests. In March, 2 of the 3 men pleaded guilty and turned state's evidence on the third man, the shooter. Last week, his trial started. It's a capital case and my feelings about the death penalty are complicated...

Link to the news story about the trial

I have been in close contact with a friend who has been attending the trial. Learning of all the gruesome, horrible details of my friends' deaths has been really tough. I feel like it just happened all over again; I am grieving like I did two years ago. I know it will be okay soon enough.

One of the reasons I went home was to attend and volunteer for the 2nd annual Kayla 5K in her honor.

Can you go ever really 'go home again'?

2005-07-15T22:33:00.000-05:00

MEA CULPA!!! I feel especially rotten when people care or worry about me while I'm just off, not paying any attention. I like to think that I am a more considerate person than that... I've just returned from a month spent at home in Ohio...

In my hurry to pack and get everything set, I forgot to mention that I would be on hiatus for a month or so before I left. :-/ I feel rather guilty about that--- particularly after discovering a couple very considerate emails inquiring about my absence and well-being. To those loyal readers- you know who you are - I apologize and express my thanks. You guys rock-- I truly appreciate it.
I went home to attend a series of important gatherings, and of course, to see my father and my Ohio cat, Gavin. I have many good stories to tell-- though not this evening.

Tonight I found myself growing homesick while trying to choose pictures to post from my trip.

Home is 'sweet' and comfortable and wonderful-- but at the same time I believe that to whomever we may attribute the adage "you can't go home again" was painfully on point. 'Home' exists not only at a certain location, but also with specific loved ones and at a specific level of awareness of the world around you.

At least- that is, for me...

During this trip, for the first time in my life, I became incredibly aware of my age. I know, I know-- I'm only 22... But the home I look to return to is that home that ceased to exist sometime during my freshman year of college. When I return to Granville, OhioI yearn for that reckless confidence and self-righteous ignorance that existed only in high school . As hard as all of us try-- we cannot go back that youthfulness about which we reminisce at length before going our separate ways - and to jobs and bills and --- yikes!--- reality.

The giant maple tree in my front yard on Maple street, as seen from my
favorite place in Granville, Ohio-- our front porch.

It was much the same upon returning to my alma mater, Ohio University... The Athens, Ohio that I considered my home for 4 years only existed while I lived my life there, with my friends and my classes and my naive world-view...(and I'm not trying to claim that I am any less naive these days...) Now there are all these people I don't know walking around or bartending or generally just existing in Athens... And while I still run into friends or acquaintances while heading down Court Street to catch last call at Tony's...but not anywhere near as many as a year ago...

And then last night, having returned to Athens, Georgia--- I went out with my friends here to some bars... and while we walked the 3 blocks or so from one bar to another, I ran into 3 separate people I know well enough to hug right there on the street....

Home Sweet Home, I guess....

kalendas junias

2005-06-01T18:34:00.000-05:00

I'm feeling rather uninspired today... Most likely due to the flurry of creativity I've busied myself recently and then catching up on all my emails & letters...

Oooh..One such letter was from a dear friend in Illinois, and it wasn't so much of a letter as a gift! For me! Out of the blue! It is an adorable little book : How To Seduce, Pleasure and Titillate in Classical Latin. A very thoughtful present from a very dear friend. A lovely surprise. :-)

Also today was the final ~~rape of my gums~~ appointment with the dentist-- at long last!!

Actually, today's experience wasn't that bad...It's the dull ache and soreness that comes creeping in a few hours after the anesthesia wears off that makes me feel like somebody slipped some roofies in my gums last night and had their nasty way with me.

But today, a remarkable event occurred. I was up very late last night doing things I shouldn't have been doing with boy-who-has-a-girlfriend-but-I-just-can't-resist and as a result, I am exhausted today. [And No, I'm not going to tell you about it--> praeteritio] After my dentist, Dr. Finger (I swear to God that's his real name; he's a very nice man), gave me the anesthetic shots and started to do his thing-- I fell asleep in the chair, while he was drilling away at my teeth!! I woke up just in time for him to finish up with the polishing. It was fucking awesome. I suppose having to go to the dentist every other week has forced me to conquer my fear of the whole experience-- I was comfortable enough to nap with my mouth forced open ridiculously wide. Hell yeah!--one down, 64,583 fears to go. And it only cost my father $3000....

On my way home, I decided to stop to put some air in my friend's car's tires. They needed it, and I don't want a repeat of this incident. I go to put the air in the tires and after squatting there for at least 5 minutes, repeatedly checking the hose and trying to figure out why it wasn't working-- before I realized that you have to pay for the fucking air! A) I must have looked like the quintessential dumb bitch who likes to think she knows something about cars...B) Who the fuck decided it was a good idea to start charging for air?!?!? Seriously-- what the fuck? I am completely baffled and outraged, frankly. . . And I didn't even have 75cents so I could use the stupid machine. . .

Here are some tidbits from my new book- please excuse the loose translations as they are not my own:

Quae dant quaeque negant,
gaudent tamen esse rogatae
Whether they say yes or no, women like to be asked. Ovid Ars Amatoria I.345

Ita Vero! Mea palaestra privata est. Yes, that's my private gym.

. . . Si pertendens animo vestita cubaris
scissa veste meas experiere manus
If you persist in lying fully clothed you'll feel
my hands tear your clothes off. Propertius 2.15. 17-18

Blogging and Fight Club?

2005-05-28T07:43:00.000-05:00

I love Chuck Palahniuk. There's something about the way he writes and what he writes about that speaks to me, reveals the truth about things unexpectedly. Bret Easton Ellis does the same thing in a similar, yet distinctly different, way. Both authors are among my favorites and I own everything they've written. When I first read Fight Club, I thought it so brilliant that I started highlighting passages. I recently bought his newest book, Stranger Than Fiction*, which is book of short stories. The book's been out for a while and received a lot of praise, but I haven't had time for pleasure reading until now.

In the introduction, Palahniuk explains how he writes and researches for his books--- and other things...I love how the intro begins--enough to quote it. I really hope it's not illegal to do so... A big part of the intro is focused on the cycle of time spent alone and then with others that writers go through. I think what he writes is very true, and applicable to all sorts of people or all sorts of writing. As I read, and reread, I think about how what he is saying applies to my life and then-- to blogging. Read this: (emphasis is mine)

If you haven't already noticed, all my books are about a lonely person looking for some way to connect with other people.
In a way, that is the opposite of the American Dream: to get so rich you can rise above the rabble, all those people on the freeway or, worse, the bus. No, the dream is a big house, off alone somewhere. A penthouse, like Howard Hughes. Or a mountaintop castle, like William Randolph Hearst. Some lovely isolated nest where you can invite only the rabble you like. An environment you can control, free from conflict and pain. Where you rule.
Whether it's a ranch in Montana or basement apartment with ten thousand DVDs and high-speed internet access, it never fails. We get there, and we're alone. And we're lonely.
After we're miserable enough--like the narrator in his Fight Club condo, or the narrator isolated by her own beautiful face in Invisible Monsters--we destroy our lovely nest and force ourselves back into the larger world. In so many ways, that's also how you write a novel. You plan and research. You spend time alone, building this lovely world where you control, control, control everything. You let the telephone ring. The emails pile up. You stay in your story world until you destroy it. Then you come back to be with other people.
If your story sells well enough, you get to go on book tour. Do interviews. Really be with people. A lot of people. People, until you're sick of people. Until you crave the idea of escaping, getting away to a . . .
To another lovely story world.
And so it goes. Alone. Together. Alone. Together.
Chances are, if you're reading this, you know this cycle. Reading a book is not a group activity. Not like going to a movie or a concert. This is the lonely end of the spectrum.
[. . . .]
My pet theory about Fight Club's success is that the story presented a structure for people to be together. People want to see new ways for connecting. Look at books like How to Make an American Quilt and The
Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood and The Joy Luck Club.
These are all books that present a structure--making a quilt or playing
mah-jongg-- that allows people to be together and share their stories. All these
books are short stories bound together by a shared activity. [. . .]
. . . In so many ways, these places--support groups, twelve-step recovery groups, demolition derbies-- they've come to serve the role that organized religion used to. We used to go to church to reveal the worst aspects of ourselves, our sins. To tell our stories. To be recognized. To be forgiven. And to be redeemed, accepted back into our community. This ritual was our way to stay connected to people, and to resolve our anxiety before it could take us so far from humanity that we would be lost.

In a way though too, is what he's talking about so different than what we do as bloggers?
When I started this blog, I was seeing a shrink. After a while, I quit going. I feel like I get a release from blogging that replaces my need to see a psychologist. While that may not be true for everyone (and while I may still need a shrink and not know it, lol) do we not get a release from this 'ritual' of blogging, of telling our stories. Are we not also trying to find a way to 'stay connected' and to 'resolve our anxiety before it could take us so far from humanity that we would be lost'? I know I do. Blogging is a way for me to connect with people while at the same time have that mountaintop castle, alone and in control.

Palahniuk goes on:

We live our lives according to stories. About being Irish or being black.
About working hard or shooting heroin. Being male or femail. And we spend our
lives looking for evidence-- facts and proof-- that support our story. As a
writer, you just recognize that part of human nature. Each time you create a
character, you look at the world as that character, looking for the details that
make that reality the one true reality.
Like a lawyer arguing a case in a courtroom, you become an advocate who wants the reader to accept the truth of your character's worldview. You want to give the reader a break from their own life. From their own life story.
This is how I create a character. I tend to give each character an education and skill set that limits how they see the world. A house cleaner sees the world as an endless series of stains to remove. A fashion model sees the world as a series of rivals for public attention. A failed medical student sees nothing but the moles and twitches that might be the early signs of terminal illness. . .

It seems to me that this is almost painfully true. We do live our lives according to stories, stories that we tell on our blogs. For Palahniuk, it's about creating a character....For bloggers, or some of them, that character is ourselves. This makes me wonder about my own world view, and how it's apparent in my blogging... What about yours? I do find that I get a break when reading others' blogs, and the authors of those blogs are like characters in a book. When reading other people's blogs, we get a glimpse of what it's like to live in another person's reality-- a peak at their world view.

Palahniuk ends his intro, and I this post, with this:

In this way, even the lonely act of writing becomes an excuse to be around
people. In turn, the people fuel the story telling.
Alone. Together. Fact. Fiction. It's a cycle.
Comedy. Tragedy. Light. Dark. They define each other.
It works, but only if you don't get stuck too long in any one place.

Bathtime Kitty

2005-05-26T19:55:00.000-05:00

So my cat's new favorite thing to do is mess with shit in the bathroom, especially while I am in the shower or bath. I've found evidence that she's been going in the bathtub for a while now...About 2 weeks ago, she starting sitting on her litter box or the sink and singing/meowing while I shower. She's very careful not to get wet. I think she is just curious and wants to get in the tub when I get out. It's awfully cute.

But in the past few days she has learned a new trick.

As I shower, now she decided it is great fun to take the biggest, smelliest shit possible. My bathroom is small and I can't escape it. If I weren't already in the shower, I would leave the bathroom or do something about it. But once in the shower, I feel like I should just do my business and get out....I think she does this just to get the bathtub all to herself... Sneaky cat she is.

2005-05-26T19:54:00.000-05:00

Bathtime Kitty

Men get angry at stupid, pointless shit.

2005-05-25T17:15:00.000-05:00

Grrrr! Why is my neighbor such an ass?!?!! I really don't understand. He's been a good friend mostly, except in the last month or so.

Today around 4 he calls me. My friend keeps his car parked in our lot because he lives in a place that doesn't have a parking lot. Technically, his car should be parked in my spot-- spot number 2. But the lot isn't entirely full and so nobody pays much attention to parking in the correct spot.
But today my neighbor calls and is pissed that my friend's car is parked in his space. I told him in the future I'll pay more attention and ask my friend to do the same. I then asked why it was such a big deal, kinda laughingly. I told him it seemed kinda ridiculous to me.

Then he yelled at me, saying he didn't want to see that car in his spot again. I told him I'd get it out of his spot right away, then, and hung up on him. I moved the car and now I am angry. Grrr. What the fuck?! When I went to move the car, it made me even more pissed that there NO OTHER CARS in the entire lot. Can anybody tell me why on earth he would chose this to get pissed about?

A month ago he showed up at my place with his friend at 3 am after going to the bars. He drank an entire bottle of wine that I was saving and specifically told him not to drink all of. Then he swiped my bowl without my knowledge. He refuses to pay me back for the wine, or admit responsibility. He left my bowl in his friend's car, who didn't know it was in there. His friend then gave it away to someone else! Thankfully, his friend got it back, but my neighbor has yet to return it to me. Ack.

I always say, Never Fuck With A Scorpio. Let's hope he gets his shit together and apologizes soon because it won't be fun to be on my bad side while being my neighbor.

eye meme

2005-05-22T05:33:00.000-05:00

my green eyes

I've always loved having green eyes. And, frankly, I think they are my best feature. Wouldn't you agree?

This is why I decided to participate in this eye meme I've been seeing everywhere lately. I don't think I've done a meme before. . .

I don't really understand the whole 'meme' thing. Somebody starts one, and others just then do it themselves? Does one need to ask permission? Who starts these things anyway--is there some sort of meme moderator or something? What about the ones that 'tag' other people-- can you do it without having been tagged first? With any meme, do you need to link to the place where you saw it? [there were just too many people with the eye meme...] Does 'Friday Spies' just involve taking a meme you saw from somewhere else and blogging it-- or does entail something more? What about that '100 things' meme-- it seems like that is one that lots of folk just have, kinda like a blogroll or a profile.....I've been meaning to do that one....

I'm just an idiot about some things. Meme's are one of them. :-)

Flashback

2005-05-20T10:45:00.000-05:00

I've been trying to find a way of expressing my awe of the power of human interaction and the existence of meaningful coincidence, my renewed faith in some sort of fate or found in coincidence. I'm having trouble doing so without using cliche after cliche. . . So I guess I'll just tell y'all my story.

I spent the majority of yesterday coloring... with my markers. Also catching up on blogs and playing with stickers... Essentially I am lately just reveling in the fact that I don't have to do anything in particular, and so I am doing whatever-the-fuck I feel like doing. Sometime after midnight I heard my neighbor outside and I thought he was yelling for me. I went outside to investigate (and tell him to get off his ass and knock on my door if he wants my attention) and found him talking to 3 kids I didn't know. It turned out it was one of them yelling and not at me...

One of them was a pretty blonde girl named Brooke--she was with two of her guy friends, Jared and Carl. It was pretty clear from first impressions that they were pretty young- and it wasn't long before we learned that they would graduated high school in about a week and were visiting Jared's brother for the evening. The brother, Jeff, lives at a nearby apartment complex and they had ventured out in search of smokes only to find the nearby convenience store closed.

My neighbor's pizza arrived and he retired for the evening. I was happy to sell them a pack of smokes (I always have a carton) and invited them up to my place. They were nice kids, very polite and I didn't think twice about bringing strangers into my apartment. . . Only now that I am writing about this do I realize that's not a very smart thing to do. Only now do I realize that I then proceeded to give alcohol to minors and that is not something I ordinarily condone... But-- when I was 17, I would frequently go to Athens, Ohio with friends to visit somebody's older sibling, and do things that my father would not have approved of and that could have gotten us all arrested. They had already been drinking at the brother's place, but they weren't drunk or anything.

I ended up spending the entire night just talking with Jared for the most part. Brooke left not long after they arrived- she was tired and hungry and apparently wanted to seize the opportunity to seduce (unsuccessfully) the brother while her friends were not there. LOL. Carl was very open about his Christianity from the start- it seemed like maybe he was mentioning it so frequently more to affirm himself than inform us. He wasn't offensive or in-your-face about it or anything and I think he was just being friendly.

This Jared boy and I were fast friends. If I were 17 or 18, I would be completely head-over-heels for this one. He had really beautiful blue eyes...But more than that, he just seemed to think about life in the same way that I do. ---or the way I did when I was 17. We three sat on my floor and smoked wayyyyy too many cigarettes and talked about everything. College, Europe, Drugs, Social Security, Love, Sex, Relationships, the Insanity of Teenage Girls, Family, Football, Airport Security, Abortion, Fate, Southern Republicans, Gossip, Bob Dylan, Dave Matthews Concerts, et cetera.

Often I find myself feeling old... or maybe, dare I say it, wise, when I am with people who aren't that much younger than I am. But at the same time I feel very young and maybe even younger than my companions. I've felt this way even around my peers for many years, but as I get older this feeling is stronger and more frequent, especially around those who aren't as 'old' as I am. I feel the need to teach, almost-- to let them know how it is because I've done it/seen it/been there/ know all about it, and for some reason I think my 'expertise' will be immensely useful to them. I realize when I'm doing that that I do that a lot and it's probably really annoying. Of course it's an absurd thing for me to do. I am really not that much older than they are at all. I am certainly not an expert on anything, let alone on how best to live your life when you are graduating from High School. Half the time, especially lately, I feel just as scared and little and confused as I did when I was 16.

In reality, we all are currently in similarly frightening and exciting transitional periods of our lives. These kids, I think, are a bit more stable than I was. When I graduated from high school I wasn't planning on attending college quite yet. I told the only school I applied to that I wouldn't be attending for a year. I was going to move to Montana with my boyfriend and work on dental floss farm. (Montana=true; Floss farm=joking Zappa reference) But Alex & I broke up 3 days after graduation and I got a job at a nursing home to make some summer cash. I didn't have any idea what I was going to do in the fall, and I wasn't worried about it. My father (god bless him!) just held his breath and prayed that something would snap me back into reality. He never pressured me or lectured me, and I was completely happy being oblivious to the reality of my future.

Right now my life is not remarkably different than it was in the summer of 2000. Thank god I finally got rid of that boyfriend, it took me two more years after that....but still. Seriously though-- I find myself now not a student, not knowing really what I'm going to do to support myself and better my future, and I'm strangely calm and not worried about it. I know now, and I knew then, that everything would be just perfect. I had a whopper of a panic attack while learning how to brush the teeth of those who are no longer able. I got up in the middle of training and ran like hell down the halls of home, out the front doors, and didn't stop until I was three blocks away at a pay phone.

Reality hit me all at once, sitting there realizing that if I didn't do something I would be brushing old people's teeth and working with unhappy women twice my age & half my education in Newark, Ohio, alone, for who-knows-how-long while all my friends moved away to school and my father grew accustomed to his disappointment. It was the first week of August. I called my father (collect-- I hadn't grabbed my purse when I left) and, without explaining why I was out of breath, asked him to call OU and tell them I didn't want to defer anymore. Three weeks later I moved into Washington Hall on East Green and decided to take Latin 101 because I knew it would be easy after 4 years in high school. That panicked decision was probably the smartest one I've made in 22 years, and doubtless one of the most important.

While I sat last night with these two boys, I recognized so much of myself in them. That blind naivete, self-righteous freedom and courage, excitement, idealistic world-view, and fear that can't be hidden no matter how hard you try---I saw in them, and from them as I listened I could feel all those things as I did 5 years ago. Saint Augustine when discussing memory said something about human emotions being remarkable ---in that when one remembers an emotion they once experienced, they know what it was to feel that way yet do not experience that emotion again. Thus one can remember the pain of losing a loved one, but the memory is not anywhere near as horrible as the real emotion was and we are aware of that. While I think Augustine is right most of the time, not for me in this case. It wasn't so much that I remembered feeling that way as it was that I was almost reliving it in some way. It was fresh and real to me- like I could smell it or something.

Because of that, from these two 18 year old boys from Snellville I found myself learning some things about growing up & life that I, in my infinite 22 year old wisdom, really needed to learn.

All I need now is a job and a massive panic attack and then I'll have figured out the meaning of life.... :-)

Both of them will be coming here in the fall. I don't know if I'll ever see them again, but I kind of think I will.

West Wing Week!

2005-05-17T18:55:00.000-05:00

I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful thing--- All West Wing-All the time-for a whole week! Yippeee! [I'm such a nerd.] What a great idea! It doesn't matter that I've seen every episode at least twice. And it couldn't have come at a better time. I don't have shit to do this week but watch the West Wing. :-)

I often think that my love of the West Wing has to do with my hatred of the current, real administration and of George W. himself. I think maybe I love the show so much because I wish Jed Bartlett was really the president--and I'm happy living in a fantasy world in which he is. I do know that I love and am in love with Rob Lowe as Sam Seaborn. I wish he was really a representative in California (or whatever Sam is doing--I know he lost that election) and that he wanted to marry me. **Not Rob Lowe as Rob Lowe--because he is a little creepy--but Rob Lowe as Sam Seaborn.

The only things I did have to do, I did today: return library books & go to the dentist. The dentist was shitty today--2 hours and my antisthesia wore off, and they found more work they have to do. Ick! My teeth hurt and I feel like my face was raped or violated in some way. But at least that's over with. I think this is the first time in my life that I actually returned a library book or books on time. I'm proud of myself for that. Ha!

I feel like I shouldn't have posted that thing about wanting to jump Josh in my last post. At the same time, I feel like I shouldn't have to censor myself. I think most of all that my problem is that I'm afraid that I sounded ridiculous to y'all...And I'm sure I did. eh--in the end, I'm glad I didn't sleep with him. That's that. I think my feelings for Boy are stronger, and I think he feels the same-- and no, I didn't sit him down for a chat about it. Last week I went to that party at his place and met his roommates and other friends...Then the night after that, he took me out with his good buddies to see this band. I do well as the lone female in groups of men--and I think he was proud of me [if that makes any sense.] I could tell that I 'passed' with his friends. And I could tell that he was glad to have me there as his 'girl' -if you will- in the way he paid attention to me and touched me. Oooh..Now I'm feeling like a silly girl. Ha. That night I stayed at his place for the first time. For some strange reason, I got kind of nervous. . .

Brian- if you are reading this- call Rob and get my number or just stop by or something. We need to chill. Soon. :-)

Now--- back to the West Wing!

{oops! I forgot to change some names here...I've edited appropriately...}

Laughing mechanics...

2005-05-11T15:46:00.000-05:00

Well...It's been quite an interesting 24 hours. . .

The boy who I was involved with a few months ago, the one with the girlfriend, stopped by last night. He's leaving for the summer and I won't see him until August--so he wanted to say goodbye...He also wanted something else, if you know what I mean... But I managed to stave off his seductions and stay good. Even if Boy doesn't want to be my 'boyfriend,' I don't think it's cool to be sleeping with him and someone else at the same time...

But that's not even the half of it.

My new phone arrived today. So I had to go to the Verizon place and have them switch over my numbers and activate my phone. I decided that while I did that, I would go to Old Navy and return some shit I bought a few weeks ago. I ran those errands and found myself having trouble getting out of the Old Navy parking lot.

Let's back up. First- I do not have a driver's license or a car. My friend Andy parks his car at my place and in return lets me drive his car when I need to. I don't drive it very often, but today I really needed to get my phone working again.

Okay--so I decided just to turn right and find a place to turn around where there is a stoplight. I needed to turn left out of the parking lot and it just wasn't happening. So I turned right and found myself in a right turn only lane, so I turned right and discovered that it was an entrance to the highway. ACK! Andy was low on gas and I didn't know where I was.

The stupid person in front of me didn't know how to merge onto a highway, obviously, because she stopped at the end of the merging lane. I had to then stop quite abruptly to avoid hitting her. I think it must have been that sudden stop that popped the tire.

I heard the car making a lot of noise, and figured it was because the car needed gas. I pulled off at the first exit and made it to a gas station. I only had $4 but I figured even one gallon would help. It was a full service station, too and had a garage where they were fixing other cars. Thank the lord! As I was pumping the gas, one of the mechanics came up and asked me if I knew that I was driving on a flat. I could hear all the other mechanics laughing at me. HA! I deserved it. I had no idea the tire was flat and would have driven off.

The guys were really nice and put the spare on for me, and gave me directions for getting home. I had no idea where I was or where this gas station was or how to get back. Their directions were great and I got home fine. Unfortunately, I can't get a hold of the man who owns the car....

Quite the adventure. I need a nap! Boy is having a party tonight so I figure I'll sleep for a while and then get ready to go. . . I'm going to try to avoid talking to Boy about 'our relationship'...bc I really want to...I really wanted to sleep with Josh last night...but I didn't...ahh...Perhaps I should just not worry about it and shut up... I think I will... night-night...

2005-05-05T00:12:00.000-05:00

Man. I am 22 years old and I need to be either studying for my final tomorrow or finishing my other paper....

What is it that I really want to be doing?

Coloring. with markers.

I'm completely serious...

Does drawing a map of Dante's Purgatory with Sharpies count as studying? (that's what I'll be doing for at least a few more minutes.... )

The More Extravagant the Disaster...

2005-05-02T02:24:00.000-05:00

You guys are awesome. Thank you so much for your much-needed support. I did eventually stop crying, and I've been very busy trying to write brilliant final papers. (one of which is due tomorrow, and I must get back to editing...)

In November, I posted a blog on Myspace that I think is perfectly relevant right now. After I'd worked through the initial shock of receiving the letter, I realized (yet again) that everything would be okay. I'm trying to view this whole experience as something with a lesson I needed to learn. . . and now I'm trying to learn it. When my paper is done, I'll put up a real entry...For now, I think it's really interesting to look back on how I was thinking at the end of last semester.
Here it is:

So I have an article summary that I really should be writing right now...along with preparing a presentation of that summary in class tomorrow...Somehow "The Relation of the Apology of Socrates to Gorgias' Defense of Palamedes and Plato's Critique of Gorgianic Rhetoric" isn't sparking my fancy right now....In reality, it's a cool topic, as far as obscure articles concerning Greek rhetoric go... I just don't feel like it; it's been a rough week and wasting time on myspace is just too tempting....

I feel like I must subconciously want to fail out of this program, because I keep fucking up and not getting things done.... At the same time, as I attempt to articulate this thought, I realize that it relates perfectly to that stupid article, as it focuses on the Socratic ideal. Translated into Latin, the Socratic ideal is this: 'nemo suo sponte peccat' or--loosely translated-- no one fails of their own volition, that is, no one chooses to do anything that they really don't want to do...or, no one fucks up without somehow preferring to do so, because, if you set out to fuck up, then in actuality you are fulfilling your goal and then it's not fucking up....]

Then, I realize that I'm thinking too hard and that I need not analyze myself in such ways. Doing so will only lead to redundant introspection and this is entirely unnecessary and not productive.

Each day I grow more certain that I am losing my mind, anyway...My friend recently shared a poem with me, by Claire Bateman--a poet I'd never heard of---a favorite passage from it is as follows:

Maybe I'm here
to dispel the illusion
that life proceeds smoothly
as long as one pays attention;

for the clumsy person,
the closer, the more minute,
the more exacting the concentration,
the more extravagant the disaster.

This is the reality of my life. I think I must be in the midst of an extravagant disaster....At least, for now, I don't really mind so much if this is accurate; I can go with the flow... If I were really worried about failing, I would do something about it...Right? I mean, no one does anything without really wanting to.....

...Please don't confront me with my failures,

2005-04-27T15:02:00.000-05:00

I have not forgotten them.

It's official. I got the letter today. I failed out of grad school. I knew this was coming for a long time now. If I didn't get officially booted, I wasn't sure I wanted to stay... But to know for certain is extremely upsetting. I feel awful and I'm so angry & disappointed. I still feel like this is not entirely my fault, and that maybe if certain faculty members werent' so convinced I'd fail from day one, I wouldn't have. Who knows.

They urged me to, despite the disappointing news, work hard on completing my coursework for the semester.

So, I suppose I'll continue to write my papers. I gotta quit crying first.

GRRRRRRRR!

2005-04-25T10:54:00.000-05:00

I've spent the past hour and a half writing thoughtfully & carefully about something I've been thinking about a lot lately and Blogger ate it--not just once, but TWICE...in 40 minutes!!!

and no, the 'recover post' button doesn't actually do anything. After the 1st time, I rewrote everything and more...then it happened again. Grrrrr! Infuriating!

Here's what the recover post button could save...I don't have the time to rewrite the rest of it now...I'll finish up and fix this post when I get done with the rest of my shit today...

What can the West Wing tell us about the effects of Lucan's narrative technique?

Another weekend comes to an end. I am in complete denial about the end of the semester & refuse to believe that I will be done with the first year of school here in a little over a week.

The final quarter of my undergraduate career was a blur-- I had so much to do for gradation and preparing to move, so many dear friends to spend time with. I was working in the department with my slide library, as well as bartending 20hrs a week. It just doesn't seem possible for that to have been nearly a year ago. It's also strange for me to be wrapping up the year in April--as I've always had class in June. . . I'm going to have to think about reality very soon. Yikes! That means looking for a job, figuring out what I'm going to do about school, & going home for my 5-year high school reunion, removal of my wisdom teeth, the 4th of July and the wedding of my dear friends at our alma-mater.

Ick! I think I'm going to stick with this denial strategy for the time being--or at least until I get my final papers finished. Because I had to withdraw from 2 classes earlier this semester, this finals-week is not so bad...quite the opposite of last semester. I'm really enjoying writing/ learning/ analyzing a smaller chunk of text but for incredible detail. Both papers concern Lucan VIII and though much of what I'm working on overlaps, the papers are entirely different analyses of 2 distinct themes. I've loved Lucan unexplainably for years and I think it's awesome to go so far with a single text.

I'm having a little bit of trouble, though, with finding a way to articulate what I think is the significant, intended affect of certain aspects of Lucan's narrative technique. [hmmm... and I claim to be a writer!] This is a problem I've always run into when I'm writing on something I like so much. I've accrued all this textual evidence, read all sorts of secondly literature, and then I can't put find the words to explain how I think those elements work together or how they are both individually & communally indicative of a larger point. Knowing me, I'll figure out how to explicate my ideas brilliantly approximately 24 hours before the paper is due.

I hate working on papers at the last possible time...I'm not the type to put off papers until the last minute. I believe writing should be a process, a cyclic set of activities that allow for greater understanding & learning (and therefore, knowing) through a 'loosely sequential and recursive set of phases.' (Guilford 1960) As a writing intensive program TA, I've read a lot about this and seen the value prewriting & outlining/brainstorming & constantly revising in both my students' work and mine...Writing, as a process, feeds productivity & insight.

Lunacy

2005-04-23T12:11:00.000-05:00

Aha!

So maybe it's not hormones that are making me crazy! Tomorrow night there will be a full moon with a lunar eclipse in Scorpio.

This is from Astrology.com:

This Sunday, we're seeing the first of 2005's two lunar eclipses. Very early in the morning, the Earth's silhouette will pass in front of the Moon, shadowing out its light, but you'll begin to feel the effects 24 hours earlier. This eclipse is focused on Scorpio, the sign of sexuality and the paranormal -- quite the exciting combination! Scorpio is the most secretive and ambiguous sign of the zodiac, and you'll certainly feel a sense of mystery this weekend. You'll also feel a detached focus on yourself, as the illumination of the Moon, which rules our emotions, will be blocked. It's an excellent time to take a step back from the details of your life to see the whole picture.

Lunar eclipses are super-charged full Moons -- and full Moons are famous for turning up the volume on all our emotions. This particular eclipse will occur with the Moon in Scorpio, famously the most intense, depth-seeking sign of them all. Needless to say, whatever you're feeling, you'll be feeling it in spades right now. And you'll be more than willing to express those feelings to anyone who even remotely hints at being interested. Just keep in mind that it's easy to take things right over the top when this lunation is on duty, and to get totally absorbed in what's going on internally while ignoring the effects of all that on the outside world. Tough as it may be, then, consider the impact of what you're about to say and do on the future -- and try to do it well before you open your mouth.

Frankly, this is so right on that I'm a little weirded out.

2005-04-22T20:18:00.000-05:00

It is incredibly defeating to be deeply affected by velocitous emotions--only to realize that what I'm feeling isn't rational, but hormonal. I am a being who is ultimately controlled by her emotions and when I feel lonely or angry or even joyful--I'm not just kinda lonely, I'm thoroughly lonely...I've been so moody for the past week, weepy and then giggly or furious...And I know this is happening, at least partly, because of hormones, and it just frustrates me. It's as though my thoughts are simply not valid because there's nothing real behind them. I don't know if that makes sense...

Loneliness has been creeping around within me for the past few days. Though totally cliche--I truly feel more lonely in the company of others than when actually alone. The presence of other people serves to make it clear to me that the friends I have here don't know me at all, nor I them. Then I just feel isolated and homesick. But my friends at home are busy living their lives just as I want them to be doing-- though I know they love & miss me, I'm not a part of their lives really anymore. People lose touch- even with the best of intentions. And so, if I no longer truly belong with those I used to spend all my time with & who know me very well--and I don't feel that I belong with anyone here-- where does that put me?

I believe that this kind of thinking is self-indulgent bullshit on my part. I know it. I'm sure I won't fall into some sort of deep depression or spend the next 2 weeks harping on the fact that I have no friends---I just need to indulge myself for a bit so I can remember why it is that I choose not to feel sorry for myself most of the time.

My friends here are essentially the people I live next to, and 2 from the department, and they are all great kids. The thing is that they all have their own lives and their own friends and their own plans. They hang out with me when they have nothing better to do or when their plans are here and I just happen to be around. They leave to go hang out with their real friends after stopping by to say hello on their way out. I can't blame them--I'm not angry with them for doing so and I don't expect them to invite me to tag along all the time...It just sucks for me because I don't have other friends to go hang out with.

It's Friday night at 10 pm and I've called everyone I know. They are all either busy or not answering. This is such a foreign thing for me to feel because I've never in my life had this problem before. I've always had more friends and more things to do than I knew what to do with. The other night, the neighbor couple who I spend the most time with went to some buddy's house, Boy was at work & then joined them. I went downstairs to chill with the other neighbor & his friends. They got a phone call & were going to go play poker at someone else's place--the friend who got the call just assumed I was coming with...so I grabbed my coat. My neighbor, when he realized I thought I was coming too, gave me some lame reason as to why it wasn't a good idea for me to do so. I acted like it wasn't a big deal--because it wasn't--but it definitely upset me.

I decided to clean to take my mind off of things that night...and I came across some old notes from high school, written by my best friend Kayla. Nearly 3 years ago she was brutally murdered along with her boyfriend and his roommate in Columbus. This wasn't a good thing to find when trying to keep yourself from sobbing.

Tonight the neighbor couple is out of town, my friends from the dept are either chilling with the wife or writing a paper, I'm afraid to call Boy when I'm feeling this way & also because I don't want to smother him. I went to take the trash out and stopped by the other neighbor's place. His blinds were open and I could see that he had some friends (who I know) over. He stuck his nose out the door and told me he'd come upstairs in bit. He may as well have just told me he didn't want me hanging around. A moment ago, I saw them all get in the car & drive away.

I'm pathetic, really-- not only for letting myself play this stupid pity game, but for sitting here crying about it at 10pm on a Friday night... Let's hope tomorrow my hormones & self-doubt lead me in a different direction...

Gay men make the best girlfriends

2005-04-22T06:13:00.000-05:00

...That's what I always say.

hmmmm...It's early & I'm still trying to wake up. I planned to get up early today so I could sit outside in the morning while the sun shines on my balcony. Of course today is the first day in a week that the sun doesn't decide to shine. . .

I went to the dentist yesterday morning. I had braced myself for what was to come & how I would feel afterward. To my surprise--the encounter was much more tolerable this time. The dentist planned to take 2 hours for the 'procedure,' but he somehow finished in only an hour!! Even though I spent most of the rest of the day believing people were looking at me funny because half my face was entirely limp, I was really pleased. And now I'm half-way through all of the work! Whoopee!

After class, I ran into my buddy who is also a Classics grad student. He's great & I hadn't seen him in a while, so we made plans to hang out in the evening. I've recently lucked into having a friend's car for my personal use & he encourages me to use it anytime for anything. My awesome and very generous father told me I could spend some money on clothing--so I decided to go for a drive & go shopping. :-) Almost as soon as I got home, Boy stopped by to see me on his work break and then my buddy came over.

This friend of mine, let's call him G, became friends rather quickly & easily at the beginning of last semester; he had a similarly hard time adjusting here (he came from much farther away than I did.) He's gay and adorable and all around great. His courseload this semester is hectic, and since I pretty much avoid spending any time at all in the department lately, we hadn't seen each other for over a month. It was funny--he showed up & Boy was here. G & I were all excited to see one another and immediately talking very fast about Comparative/Historical Linguistics [[[why is it that Classics majors always have to be elitist & cultish when with another Classics major? We get together & talk about things that no one else knows or cares about in such a way as to blatantly exclude anyone who can't or doesn't care to participate--and think we're so smart & fabulous for doing so.]]] Anyway--it was funny, to me at least, because we were acting like such girls. Boy & I were sitting here just chilling, smoking a little and watching Charmed--G comes and suddenly there's such a commotion, loud voices exaggerating & giggling.

Boy went back to work and G & I sat outside talking until after 10. I'll be writing another post all about that conversation shortly...It was really wonderful--I needed to have some 'girl talk' with somebody very badly. I have only one female friend here & we're both the kind of chick who, wary of women, prefer the company of men. While she & I do have some girl-talk on occasion, we're still feeling each other out and don't discuss some things. But G & I had a wonderful time talking about boys & sex & clothes & food, and ultimately, the goings-on of the dept lately.

Gay men really do make the best girlfriends. You can talk about anything with them & they'll never steal your boyfriend or get mad at you for hitting on them. They'll tell you if you those pants make you look fat, honestly. They don't play petty mind games with women, usually, and in my experience are greatly less suspicious than women. Ha! My dad makes fun of me for having gay guys for so many of my closest friends (he's joking, of course)--- I guess because I'm not a girl's girl, and yet still not a tomboy, that we share similar social roles. No girl can ever truly be one of the guys, and I've certainly never felt like 'one of the girls'---gay men don't fit in the standard groups just as girls like me don't. {IMHO--I hate to generalize like this, but y'all probably understand what I'm saying. If I've offended anyone, it is unintentional & I apologize.}

So yesterday was a pretty terrific day...The one downer though, was that I learned that the other grad students got their teaching assignments for next year. I know that I'm not ready to teach my own class, and that after all the bullshit this semester it makes no sense for them to give me a class & in reality I'd much prefer to keep my position Writing Intensive Program because I enjoy it so much-->but it still hurt. I'm sad that I don't get to have my own class next year because I believed for so long that I would, and I know that I would have felt very proud to do it & proud to make my father proud of me. I'm having a really hard time putting how I feel about this into words. I'm not jealous, and the kids who did get classes deserve them--they'll be great teachers & I'm excited for them. At the same time, I just feel like I'm missing out on achieving/learning/do something I really believed I would not miss out on --that is, if shit hadn't gone down as it has this semester. . . Another part of my naive dream that is painful to let go of.

Ah well--the sun seems to be showing herself...I think I'll go outside & read some Dante...

Quo vado? (or: Intimacy--that's a big word)

2005-04-19T19:37:00.000-05:00

I wondered today if I had any loyal readers, and if I do, were they wondering where I went? Sorry guys--I kinda dropped off the face of the earth for the past week. In fact, I just checked my email for the first time in a week!! I usually check my email about 5 times a day--so that says a lot.

I don't really know what's been wrong with me. I think I'm kind of depressed, or stressed-out, about the end of the semester and the fact that I have no idea what to do afterward. On the other hand, I'm not unhappy, and really I'm only worried about that one thing...I guess my future is kind of a big thing to worry about. :-) Now I'll just continue what I had been doing--and just try not to think about it while going on with the rest of my life.

I had my first really terrible encounter with the dentist last week. I have another appointment on Thursday. Yuck.

Boy stayed over mid-week last week, and we spent the weekend together. I've decided that because I like how things are progressing, I'm not going to hurry to analyze or obsess over anything that he says/does. Right now, I'm happy with him and our relationship, and he seems to be so as well--so I suppose it's only causing me grief to worry about what he's thinking about things.

However--(ha!)
Saturday night, we were laying in bed, having just finished our cigarettes (you know the scene.) and he was touching me softly in this really amazing way.
I said, "This feels wonderful."
He replied, "Yeah, I like the intimacy of it."
And I said, "Intimacy--that's a big word."

I don't know what the fuck I was thinking or what I expected him to say to such a remark. I didn't say it nicely, either. It's like I was asking for trouble. He said something about physical vs. emotional intimacy--I ruined our nice moment...but, fortunately not for long...

Now, I've got some emails to write to my professors explaining where I've been for the past week. O Joy! fuck....

decisions, decisions...

2005-04-11T21:34:00.000-05:00

It has become very clear to me in the past few days that I no longer love what I do like I used to...I've lost that hunger--that eagerness to succeed or to learn...and I know that for certain now...After such an awful ordeal with my advisor, and bracing myself to find something else to do with my life, I'm realizing that I'm no longer satisfied with my life plan as it is now.

There, I've said [written] it. Whew! I feel quite liberated.

So I've been exploring my options. There are many things I don't know-- like how to go about putting any plan in motion & how I'm going to support myself. Here's what I do know:
1. I don't want to move. I'd like to stay right here. I'm beginning to like it here and to have good people in my life-- besides, moving is a bitch and expensive and I don't know where else I would go. I certainly do not want to move back home.
2. I need to choose a field that involves writing, and that involves people. Yes, my current field has a lot to do with writing, but it has even more to do with isolation & shitty personal relationships.
I'm thinking maybe I could get another undergraduate degree in journalism. That seems to be the best way to get into the publishing field, and is something I'm really interested in. I really think I could be an exceptional copyeditor--because working with others on their writing is something I've always had a knack for and something I've consistently enjoyed.
------------
Meanwhile, life is pretty good. On Friday, Boy came over and we hung out with the neighbors for a while before going to a frat party. Early on in the night, it was just us with the couple that set us up, and he said something about me sounding like I miss home. They all gave me a hug, (this whole thing was in fun--we were all having a good time & laughing) and he said that I didn't need to worry because I have a family here now who loves me. This was really nice. I don't realize most of the time how much I talk about home. Even though I'm happier here now, I really do miss my friends and life in Ohio, and I suppose that my loneliness is easier for others to pick up on than I'd like to believe.

Everyone else left, and Boy & I had a great conversation before deciding to go to the party. I love talking with this kid, and think he's very smart and really funny. This is why this Boy, and not others, has gotten so far into my head. I haven't found anyone that I enjoy just hanging out with, who can also have a serious conversation with me, that I also enjoy sleeping with. I haven't found that in anyone since Alex, my first & only serious boyfriend who I was with for nearly 4 years off and on.

I feel like he really hears me, or understands me, the way that my friends at home do...He picks up on what I'm not saying when I talk--which, with me, is almost more important than what I'm actually saying. No one else here has been able to understand me like that since I've been here, and he just feels so comfortable. At the party, he said that he would like to have known me as I was in Ohio, because he felt that I would just be the life of the party; he could just see me, making my rounds & walking around like I owned the place. He couldn't have been more right on.

My friends will tell you that the social butterfly aspect of my personality is a big part of why they love me so much. I guess that I feel displaced here, as I don't know anyone and can't be myself yet in that regard. For Boy to pick up on that, while I was busy trying to appear that I didn't feel alien & thinking about parties I'd attended at home, really touched me. I don't know if this makes any sense, or if I sound like a silly girl focusing on anything this boy says because I want it to be meaningful---but I'm such a guarded person, and don't like to let people see anything close to vulnerability, that something so little from him made me feel naked & I wasn't threatened by that. I'm sure I must sound ridiculous.

We went home and had a great night. In the morning, I told him I had a toothbrush for him if he wanted it. I've been spending hours at the dentist's recently and as a result, am hyper-aware of my teeth. Also, they keep giving me toothbrushes--so I thought I'd extend the offer. I know that when I wake up the first thing I think is---ewww, I need to brush my teeth. Anyway, I think that may have freaked him out a little bit, but he was trying not to show it. Ha! I wonder if he was thinking I was making plans to move him in...

part of me knows, however, that he was probably thinking that I only brought it up because I've been at the dentist's so much lately...

Empower

2005-04-08T16:08:00.000-05:00

It's about to rain here, and when it does it's going to be an intense storm. The clouds coming in are ominous.

Despite the awful beginning to my day, I'm doing well now. I love the sound of the rain and the smell of a storm.

I woke up this morning to an apartment that was too dark & quiet for comfort. A week ago I got a notice from the power company telling me to pay my bill or my service would be cut off. I paid it last Friday...But they didn't get it apparently, and turned off my power. My cell phone is broken and a new one is in the mail--so I had to go wake up my neighbor to use his phone to call the power company. It turns out that my bank fucked up my online payments and they haven't gotten anything from me since January. But the money is certainly gone from my account...I had to charge nearly $400 to my dad's credit card to get the power back on...back payments, and re-service fees...Bullshit.

I was nearly hysterical on the phone with the power company. When I wake up, I'm essentially hallucinating for 10 minutes until I can understand waking reality. If I'm woken and then startled, I get really crazy--like, if I wake up & find that I've slept through half of class or something...the panic that sets in is irrational for a while and takes over--and then it takes me even longer to get normal again. Is this weird or does this happen to other people?

I paid the fees and quit crying, calmed down a little, with a bit of help from the neighbor, and went to the convenience store across the way for coffee. I thought I deserved some Krispy Kreme's too, on account of the traumatic wake-up. Of course, I ran into that Boy (from previous post) who was on his way to class. Damn. I was totally embarrassed to tell him my power got turned off--but I felt the need to explain my appearance and gluttony. He said he'd stop by tonight...he hasn't, but I suppose it's early.

To top it off, I spent 2 hours at the dentist's this afternoon. Yuck.

I went to class, and it was awesome for once. We are reading Dante's Purgatorio and discussed Cato's role in the narrative and Lucan. Lucan [& his Bellum Civile] is a personal obsession and I'm knee-deep in research for 2 papers right now. The prof really got me thinking and I actually got to contribute in class-- as the Prof (a Virgil scholar who is quite impressive) didn't know much about the scholarship about Cato in the Bellum Civile. One of those papers concerns Lucan VIII and the influence of Virgil, and is for her class--so she knows I know/care about the significance of Lucan & Cato for Dante. She kept looking to me for an answer or feedback and it made me feel good. Now I'm anxious to find out more...Apparently Cato's presence in Purgatory (as a Stoic and military leader who killed many before killing himself) has been the topic of much debate...

I think it's funny that my cat is named after this Cato.

I came home and got power back and took a long bath. Now it's raining, hard, and I shall continue listening to The Be Good Tanyas and the rain...
ps: I knew blogger was going to eat this post when the spell-check wouldn't work. Cleverly, I copied it into Word and thus, saved it. I'm quite proud of myself for not losing the post and felt like bragging. ;-) But wtf is up with Blogger's shittiness lately? I've read so so so many blogs lately that said something about Blogger eating their posts.

The West Wing

2005-04-06T20:54:00.000-05:00

Damn. I literally have goosebumps.

The West Wing is the very best thing ever to be broadcast on television. Period.
Amazing.

When Sorkin left the show, I was worried that it would go to shit--and while in some aspects it has, I now find my faith in the West Wing's unrivaled excellence restored. Santos (Jimmy Smits)winning the nomination was fairly predictable--but Leo as his running mate?!! Awesome. I was entirely shocked.

God, I love that show.

Why can't the real political world have more people playing lead roles like Jed Bartlett, Leo McGarry & Josh Lyman?????

Anyone who's ever had a heart...

2005-04-05T19:46:00.000-05:00

. . . Wouldn't turn around and break it. . .

I've been attempting not to blog about my current love-life situation for a number of reasons. A) I know from one of my various blog-gadgets that someone has been reading this blog from the department's 'majors only' computer lab. B) I know it's silly of me, but I am a bit apprehensive about making myself vulnerable--at all-- by revealing such things (especially knowing that many readers are older men or Classicists/Profs). Funny that I can write about some romantic encounters and not others, and pour my heart out about a plethora of other things in this blog--

I think, however, that my desire to keep quiet has much to do with my crazy Scorpio need for secrecy. I have been thinking about how my Scorpio-ness works with my motivations and for this reason I posted a brief guide to the Scorpion.

I haven't felt motivation to do work and haven't had anything to blog about for a few days now--so I'm giving up on this vow of silence. All I can think about is this boy, so I'm going to tell y'all about the situation in an attempt to settle my thoughts; I hope I don't ramble on for too long. Caveat lector!

My neighbor and his girlfriend [N & GF from here on out] are my good friends. About 2 months ago they got it in their heads that I needed a boyfriend, and that they should set me up with one of N's friends. It wasn't long before I realized what my friends were up to. They kept dropping by with this friend of his, we'll call him Boy. I was always in the middle of something and looked terrible, and thus entirely self-conscious for the whole time. I could tell he was nervous and the whole situation was always awkward. So that's how I met Boy, and how our next few encounters went.

Since then, I've seen him at N's place, and, without the weirdness or pressure of earlier occasions, we both began to relax. I noticed that I found this boy quite dashing-- so, naturally, the next time I saw him I flirted aggressively [:)]. Fortunately, I had some notice this time and could make sure I didn't look so terrible. Something clicked and he spent the rest of the weekend at my place. We had a wonderful and fun time together, both in and out of the bedroom. ;-)

I know that Boy is not a 'player'; he's kinda shy/quiet & lacks experience with women (or so he claims.) That, and other things he's done/said have led me to believe that he is interested more than just sex...He doesn't seem the type...But, the other afternoon he said something about not wanting to mislead me- as he doesn't do well with obligations, and is 'immature' with girls...To me, I think that says he is afraid that it's getting too serious.

He went on to say something about PDA's and then feeling bad for not being cuddly with me around his buddies. I couldn't figure out what I was thinking and didn't say much- just that I'm not good with obligations or PDAs either. And at this point I am not expecting a lot from him...I'm generally a pretty low maintenance chick, and the whole thing confuses me, just because I can't honestly say if I actually like this guy. I'm too intoxicated by the sex to be objective about it. And at least I know that.

Why, then, does he feel the need to warn me? I'm bothered by what it is that I've done to make him think I have big plans for him. In all reality, we don't know each other that well and he doesn't have any obligation to me. I don't want him to call twice a day or feel like he has to check in with me. I just want to play it by ear, and continue spending time together-whatever that entails...and ask for no special courtesy. Does this mean I'm pushing too hard? I haven't called him or named our children or anything--

I'm inclined to think that he is either confused/afraid about his feelings as well--as actions speak louder than words, and he might be just as scared of being vulnerable as I can be; But he could be a superb liar who has tricked me into trusting him; or perhaps 'he's just not that into me' and I need to quit doing this stupid-girl bullshit...

daylight

2005-04-03T19:03:00.000-05:00

I realized, upon waking up and turning on the news, that I had forgotten to change my clocks for Daylight Saving time. I think it's strange that the majority of clocks I have automatically changed--cell phone, computer, etc.

I am very happy to have another hour before sundown each day. Daylight always helps. I love feeling like the day is longer and I think I'm more productive in the spring and fall...I could probably be more productive in general if I got up earlier...come to think of it. I really wish I could be more productive today--as most of it has been spent playing on the computer, reading the newspaper, etc--anything to further avoid doing work. It's not like I'm tired or have anything better to do- or anything on my mind. In fact, I don't even have anything specific I want to blog about.

So, with that, I suppose I'm done for now....I'm probably going to play more games online & continue procrastinating until I either decide to get my work done, or feel inspired to blog :)

Liberals in Education

2005-03-31T11:41:00.000-05:00

Okay---because I ran across so many blog entries this morning (here and here, via here), I feel the need to pose a question.

Has anybody thought about the idea that maybe conservative or Republic people don't care to choose academics as a profession? Or that liberals or Democrats make better scholars/ researchers/professors?

I'm inclined to conclude, and I'm well aware of my own biases, that liberals & Democrats are just more intelligent. Ha!

I must admit, however, that I did not thoroughly read the study. When I saw in the Washington Post article that somebody was claiming that conservatives are being discriminated against in academe, I quit reading:

Rothman sees the findings as evidence of "possible discrimination" against
conservatives in hiring and promotion. Even after factoring in levels of
achievement, as measured by published work and organization memberships, "the
most likely conclusion" is that "being conservative counts against you," he
said. "It doesn't surprise me, because I've observed it happening."

Here's a link to the Washington Post's article about the study, and here's one to the study itself.

All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth

2005-03-30T09:44:00.000-05:00

Well---
The good news is that my friend on the grad student advisory committee wrote me back. The bad news is--if I need even to call it that-- I have to write a letter to the dept. chair and be aggressive. It seems that if I'm going to do anything about this advisor situation, I'm just going to have to be a bitch about it and do things in a very formal, and somewhat detached, way. . . . But I'm capable of that. It is unfortunate, however, that my neurosis about precision in writing is making the task more difficult than it should be. . . I'll get it done. . .I have a meeting today with my Lucan prof (whom I like a lot and who has been extremely supportive) to discuss my final paper [Narrative Techniques in Lucan VIII] and I think I'm going to talk to him about all this.

The real bad news is that I'm going to spending some serious quality time with the dentist for the next two months. The situation is worse than I thought. . . I've always known that I grind my teeth in my sleep, and in high school I even tried wearing a football player's mouth piece at night- but I woke up every morning to find it on the floor or someplace and eventually stopped bothering. So, apparently in the time since I last saw a dentist, my TMJ has gotten way worse and I have seriously fucked up my teeth. In addition to the cavities I knew about, the grinding has caused all sorts of other problems--- problems to the tune of $2200!!!!! All in all it's going to take about 2 months of going in for more work once a week before they can make me a new, custom, mouth piece to stop my TMJ. Yikes!!! [that'll be really sexy-- needing some weirdo mouth-guard in bed. It reminds me of teenagers who have to take out their retainers before making out.]

And then--I learned that I'll need to get my wisdom teeth out when that stuff is over. My old dentist told me that I'd never need to worry about wisdom teeth--silly me, I believed him. I wonder how much that will cost--as it's not included in the $2200. Man! On top of that, I'll only have health insurance until I'm 23--provided that I'm a student. So--I wanted to take advantage of that while I still can and get some other less-pressing problems fixed while I'm still insured. It looks like I'll pretty much be living at the health center for the rest of the semester. blah.

At least- the dental clinic seems quite advanced and everyone I dealt with there were really knowledgeable & nice. The dentist too, is about 28 I'd say and quite cute. In fact, I think the university's health center is really awesome--way more organized and user-friendly than any doctor's office I've ever been to before; the facility seems to be quite advanced & well-funded; the doctors, pharmacists, nurses and other staff all have been extremely competent and on top of their shit. At OU, the health center was in this rickety old house, nobody seemed to know what was going on, and whenever I went there I waited for 3 hours before I saw some doc just long enough to write me a few prescriptions (and, I think the doctors there just gave everyone who came in there muscle relaxers or painkillers. )

And, at least I'm not really sick or have anything seriously wrong with me. I'm lucky that my family can afford to keep my teeth from grinding themselves into stubs. I'll be okay :)
------------------------------------

On a side note: last night, I was playing around on Haloscan and I realized that I am the WORST at responding to comments. I always mean to write back to those who comment, and I don't want to just respond in two words--so I read them, and tell myself I'll write thoughtful responses later, but I don't. I'm sorry!

So, from now on I pledge to do a better job of that. To those of you who commented long ago and haven't heard from me, don't be surprised when you get a response to a comment you left over a month ago--I'm going to really respond to all the old comments as well.

I know how much I love comments and appreciate knowing what y'all think of what I've written--and so I try to be an active commenter on the sites that I read. I don't always have time, but I try. The least I can do is respond to my own damn comments!!!!

Another beautiful day. . . . I've got to go chase in my cat, who decides when it's nice out to explore rather daringly. . . .

Pulling Teeth?

2005-03-29T10:50:00.000-05:00

Another beautiful day. Too bad I have to go to the dentist. Yick.

I hate going to the dentist---and any person who is a dentist while they are at work. I hate teeth---all teeth, but especially mine. I suppose they're a good thing--but teeth and dentists tend to be a hassle, be painful, and to take too much time. If you don't see the dentist and take care of your teeth, things will be bad & I know that. However, because I hate the whole experience, I avoid going to the dentist even when I need dental attention.

I lost 2 fillings I think, over spring break. Today is not going to be good. I probably have other cavities, as well, and I haven't been to a dentist in nearly 2 years....

A wonderful way to spend my free afternoon on this beautiful day.

I suppose it's better than sitting and fuming over my academic situation. Whenever I sit down to write my advisor or take any other action, I just get all worked up & angry. No good. It will not help me any to write a nasty letter to my advisor. I daydream that I star in the movie where (I think it might be Jerry Maguire) this man points at everyone in his office before his storms out, saying, "Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool-- I'm out." I'm not going to do that. I have some decisions to make and I change my mind every other hour. On the bright side, I found a website detailing people to contact for Graduate Student Problems and it turns out that I know one of the men on the advisory committee. So, I sent him an email and hope he has some insight for me.

Meanwhile, I've done some research on careers in publishing and that's been encouraging & exciting. I could be an awesome copy editor-- and love every minute of it. Both my parents are grammar Nazis, and though it may not be evident on this blog-I am a stickler for precision. I buy and read grammar/style/syntax books for fun. And, I've had a lot of training in responding to others' writing as part of my Writing Intensive Program TA Training. My father has an MA in journalism, and has been in PR all his life. For the past 22 years, he's been the Director of Public Affairs for a private liberal arts college in my hometown & he's the only person whose skills I trust to edit my papers, resumes...etc. Does anybody know anything about getting into the field? Or about the field at all? I'd appreciate anything you could tell me. From what I've read, it seems that getting an internship is key. I'm sure Dad has some connections/old friends who would help me with an internship...I don't know.

Publishing, and my recent enthusiasm for it, may just be an attempt on my part to cope with my current academic situation...But I have been thinking about this for a long time. My role as a writing coach/TA is pretty much the only thing I've really loved about being in this school. I love to read and I love to write and I love to edit. I love to read about writing and editing. The key thing is that I much prefer helping others to communicate more clearly and properly and effectively for their purposes over writing my own things----with this blog as an exception, of course. :-)

Well, off to class and then to the freaking dentist....If I'm not in too much pain, I'm sure I'll have more to say after all that...

Random

2005-03-28T20:13:00.000-05:00

Man--it's been rainy & shitty all day....Now, I can't tell if I should blame Blogger for being slow-as-hell or if my internet provider is to blame. I know it's not my computer....it's pissing me off.

But--as far as Mondays go...today has not been bad.

The weekend ended up being awesome. My boy problems (and the moral ones that accompanied them) have been resolved....I'm done with the law-student and the other one.

More later---when my internet isn't so damn slow!

2005-03-26T17:23:00.000-05:00

Damn. I'm amazed by what a little sleep deprivation & worry did to me at 4am...

Life goes on. Another beautiful day.

2005-03-26T04:10:00.000-05:00

At 4am, I can't sleep, and it's become really hard to convince myself that I will be okay, that everything will work out fine.

I got an email from my advisor tonight. I was trying not to read it knowing how it would probably effect me--but I opened it inadvertently.

I passed the reading list exam.

Now that I've taken the steps to leave this place, and after demanding to know if my advisor was correct in saying that I'd already screwed up too badly to stay--She tells me maybe she wrong and that I can continue attending school after this semester.

Fucking lying bitch! This is my life....my future....my everything that she has toyed with and not taken seriously at all. This is malicious and wholly unprofessional. How dare she-- one needs only to look at my posts for this semester to see how her 'advice' has eaten at me, and how my confidence in myself as a Classicist, as a student,[as a person] has diminished since she first told me that I could either get a 4.0 this semester or be 'dismissed.' What did I ever do to deserve this? I used to be so full of hope and determination. I worked my ass off at the expense of my health, and my happiness. I packed up and left everything I had, everything I'd known, my friends & family & home & comfort, just because I thought I had a chance.

I feel so deceived-so betrayed and so stupid for letting her. More than anything I just want to scream, "I NEVER HAD A CHANCE!!! YOU NEVER GAVE ME A CHANCE..."

I feel like an incredible failure.

A visiting prospective graduate student spent some time with a current grad student, Kevin, this week. Kevin has been suspiciously supportive and inquisitive about my situation this week. Apparently, at some group thing with my advisor and the other students, was speaking to my advisor about the academic pressure he was feeling about attending this school--He said that it really scared him that within 15 minutes of arriving at the dept, he heard about someone who burnt out & quit. Ouch.

This is the self-absorbed-woe-is-me-crap I've been trying so hard to avoid. But, Oh My God, What the hell am I going to do? How on earth do I go about dealing with the department, let alone my advisor, now? What am I going to do after this? I need help! I need some advising! Nobody seems to know at all how to begin to help me find the answers to these questions. Isn't this what an advisor is for? I reached out to the one professor whom I thought might be able/willing to help me a week ago and he hasn't responded. I'm still not sure what I did so wrong to be in this situation. It is a very difficult lesson for me to learn that, apparently in real life, nobody really cares and I am left alone.

What Have I Done?

School, nailbiting, and being the other woman...

2005-03-25T16:42:00.000-05:00

Where to begin?

It's an absolutely gorgeous day outside and I'm in a wonderful mood. I'm afraid my last post was a bit depressing--I didn't intend to come off like that. I am sad about not finishing my MA, and about how things went down. If I think about it too hard, I can get pretty upset about it, but that cycle of self-absorbed-woe-is-me-crap is not productive. In all reality, I'm okay.

I think that this is actually for the best. I've learned a lot since I've been here--not only for school, but about myself and life. And, if a life in the field of Classics is right for me--now is just not the right time. I'm only 22. I have plenty of time to figure things out, and I can always go back to grad school if I so choose. My friend and fellow grad student here, HMB, is 27 and married. While the rest of the grad students were busy feeling sorry for me and telling me that everything will be fine, HMB said to me jokingly, "You know, I don't really feel sorry for you or bad for you at all. In fact, you can fuck off. I'm 27 and you are only 22 but at the same point in life as I am."

He pointed out to me that I actually have it pretty good. Many people at my age haven't yet finished their bachelor's--I graduated cum laude at age 21. I have college degree. I'm smart and capable and personable, and the world is open to me. I can do anything. And in many ways I'm relieved that things worked out the way they have--a great deal of stress has been taken off my shoulders. [And, I think I have convinced my best friend from home to move down here with me. :-)]

So, I'm going to withdraw from two of my classes; one that is taught by my awful advisor, and another that is very difficult. This leaves me with tons of time to devote being a great TA and to writing the final papers for my other two classes. Part of why I know I need to take some time off is that I've lost my passion for my studies; they've become a chore, an unwelcome obligation instead of the pleasure that they once were. Now that I'm only worrying about these 2 classes, I'm feeling excited to write the papers because I know I won't be burdened with other classwork.
_____________________________

I am the world's worst nail biter. I don't do it because I'm anxious or nervous or anything like that, it's something I do absent mindedly all the time. My friend Dave once told me he'd never seen anyone else who could smoke and bite my fingernails at the same time. Some days I do it more fervently than others [I think that may have something to do with the adderal I take every day.] Today is one of those days and I've figured something out: it is that I have a maddening itch within my nailbed and biting my nails is the only way to get at it. I guess that's kind of gross. I just thought I'd share....

I've been avoiding the law student I went out with a couple times all week. He got overly serious and has been paying way too much attention to me--as a result, I'm no longer attracted to him. Guys: I'll admit it--women are crazy(or at least I am) . I know that he is going to be hurt and feel rejected when I give him the 'let's be friends' talk--so I've just put it off as long as possible. I'll definitely call him tomorrow--for real! I mean it!

Meanwhile, I keep fantasizing about my other boy (you know--the one who already has a serious girlfriend), but am beginning to build him up in my mind. Because he is not attainable-- I think I've gone into safe-mode and in my head, he is perfect. I hope that I don't pull a stupid-girl move and trick myself into thinking I actually have feelings for him--that will only lead to unhappiness. I guess though, that getting involved at all with someone who is attached is asking for unhappiness....But, is it wrong that I kind of enjoy being the 'other woman'? I think it's kind of sexy, and I know it's evil- but it boosts my confidence. . . As though I am some sort of mysterious seductress and men cannot stop themselves from acting on their desire for me.

Besides--in many ways, he is the perfect 'boyfriend'. . .He shows up when I call, we do our thing and have lots of fun--but he doesn't expect or want me to play the girlfriend role. I don't have to dote on him, or to call him all the time. He may stay the night, but gets out of my way quickly in the morning. He only expects of me what I expect from him, and in that way, because no one is playing games & we're on the same page--all the bullshit is removed from the situation. It's ideal. However, as someone who has been cheated on before, I know how much it sucks. I do feel quite guilty and ashamed of myself for inevitably causing his girlfriend such pain & heartbreak--and I am especially shitty for continuing to sleep with this guy when I know his girlfriend is going to be hurt.

I suppose, though, that I'm quite fortunate in that I don't have more serious things to worry about. . .

Fear keeps pace with hope (Graduate School Casualty part III)

2005-03-23T20:53:00.000-05:00

Seneca, in a letter to Lucilius (V), said:

...Limiting one's desires actually helps to cure one of fear. 'Cease to hope,'he says, 'and you will cease to fear.'
'But how,' you will ask, 'can things as diverse as these be linked?' Well, the fact is, Lucilius, that they are bound up with one another, unconnected as they may seem. Widely different though they are, the two of them march in unison like a prisoner and the escort he is handcuffed to. Fear keeps pace with hope. Nor does their so moving together surprise me; both belong to a mind in suspense, to a mind in a state of anxiety through looking into the future. Both are mainly due to projecting our thoughts far ahead of us instead of adapting ourselves to the present. Thus it is that foresight, the greatest blessing humanity has been given, is transformed into a
curse.

My best friend from the Classics department where I did my undergrad first pointed me to this quote. I don't remember why--but I do remember that I found a lot of peace in reading it. I still do. It was on this day 2 years ago that the two of us set out for 4 months in Greece... I can't believe it's been that long.

It was on this day one year ago that I made my decision to attend this school. It was spring break, and my father and I drove down here to visit the campus. This place was incredibly beautiful--I was taken with both the campus and the department...It makes me sad to remember how full of hope I was.

I've been an irresponsible blogger as of late, but I've had lots on my plate and life comes before blogging. After all the anxiety that came with my reading list exam, I took it and it was tolerable. I regret saying that I wanted to kill my advisor--I was just very angry and decided to blog about it before doing anything else. Not to say that I like her any more- I don't like the woman at all but I don't want her dead. She ended up just giving me the same exam as those taking the CLAS version--and instructing me to disregard the parts of the essay questions that had to do with Greece. Personally, I think that is kind of a cop-out. That method worked for the first essay question--but taking out half the question can make writing an essay in response to that question more difficult than it should be. The second essay question-and my response- was a mess. I didn't understand how to approach the question--I asked my advisor for more clarification and understood if she couldn't help me out--she tried and it didn't help. But-- It doesn't matter anymore. And for those of you who care to know--I don't yet have the results.

After the test I called my father and cried for a while. Then, I tried to be a good girlfriend-y person to my law student. He brought me a bottle of tequila, knowing that I would appreciate it- but the last thing I wanted to do was to play that role. I bitch about not having a boyfriend but when I come close to having one--I remember why I've been single for so long. I don't like being the girlfriend. I don't like having such expectations of me.

My advisor is also my professor for one class this semester. On Sunday I got another email from her. She wanted to make sure I had my draft done for class on Tuesday. I was sooooo pissed off by this that I was paralyzed. A month ago, when she revised the syllabus to include a draft of our final Electra papers due the Tuesday after the reading list exam, I voiced my objection. The other students in the class were all taking the exam as well, and they agreed. I knew then that I would not have anything close to a draft for her so soon after the exam.

In class yesterday, when she asked for the drafts, I told her I didn't have one and she said she'd talk to me after class. I was so filled with frustration and angry...and frankly, indignance--that I just seethed and waited for class to end. To make a long story short (forgive my cliche)-- we went over the fact that I needed straight A's this semester to make up for last semester, and the fact that I'd already received a grade on her test to put me below an A for her class. I asked her then-why on Earth, when I'd been so busy trying to prepare for the reading list exam, would I bust my ass trying to get a draft done for her when it didn't count for anything anyway?!?! She didn't have anything to say to that. She did, however, acknowledge that my grades were already not good enough this semester to save my ass...(For more about this, read my Graduate School Casualty posts...) and regardless of my lack of a draft--I'm already as good as 'dismissed' from the program.

So that's it. I'm done. There's no decision for me to make-it's been made for me. I have no idea what I'll do from here.

Bullsh*t!!!!!!!!!

2005-03-18T20:27:00.000-05:00

Here it is-8:30pm on the night before my huge test. I've spent all week and countless time in the past months preparing for this test. I check my email and get this from my advisor:

You never got back to me about which exam you're taking.

I am
at present making up only CLAS exams, so am expecting you to take that one.

What?!!?!@\ My first instinct is to go burn her house down. However, I decide to call my father instead.

See, I have two options for this test. I could take the CLAS test or the LAT test. On March 8th, I wrote to the same advisor and asked her what I should be preparing for. She wrote back saying this:

Do the all Latin one; though perhaps we should discuss this more. I don't
have your record in front of me.

Now, I could see how maybe this could seem that the matter was unresolved--but still. I prepared for the Latin test because she told me to. Now she is telling me that I don't get to take that test. Am I out of line here? I really don't think so. If anyone out there reading this thinks that I am out of line--please, let me know why because I really don't understand.

I am writing her back, with the help of my father, showing both emails and dates and such. And I've copied this email to the chair of the department. This is really not fair. Over and over again she has put me in situations like these. I want to kill her. ACK. I continue to be perplexed and am genuinely upset by this kind of 'professional advising.' I came to this school because my former advisor thought it would be a good fit for me, and because of this school's national reputation in my field. I thought an advisor was someone who would be a mentor and helpful to me in dealing with the problems one may have to deal with in graduate school. My advisor so far has been the one creating these problems. What the hell am I supposed to do? She has tenure. I can't switch advisors and after this, my life in that department is going to be hell. I should probably just drop out now.

Instead, I'll probably just cry my eyes out until I have to face this bitch in 12 hours for the exam.

MA test

2005-03-12T21:27:00.000-05:00

There really ought to be a law about how loud one's motorcycle can be...3 assholes just drove past my place with bikes so loud my apartment shook & my sleeping cat woke up and ran for cover...damn. Assholes. I'm trying to study... unsuccessfully...

My giant MA Reading List Exam is in less than a week...Thus, I am apologizing ahead of time for not blogging until it is over...I'm going to be very busy reading...

ps--Gmail is the greatest thing in the world. I'm just now figuring out why everyone else thinks it's so cool.

You Might Be A Grad Student If....

2005-03-09T07:54:00.000-05:00

I found this page of jokes about grad school via this blog (sadly, she seems to have quit posting).
You can find the complete list and original [?] page of jokes here.

The painful poignancy of this list is frightening....like listening to Jeff Foxworthy and realizing that you do actually do these horrible things...

I've italicized those that are particularly fitting for my life...

[apparently the following is the work of David McKay at the U of Iowa]
You Just Might Be A Grad Student If...

...you can analyze the significance of appliances you cannot operate.
...your carrel is better decorated than your apartment.
...you have ever, as a folklore project, attempted to track the progress of your own joke across the Internet.
...you are startled to meet people who neither need nor want to read.
...you have ever brought a scholarly article to a bar.
...you rate coffee shops by the availability of outlets for your laptop.
...everything reminds you of something in your discipline.
...you have ever discussed academic matters at a sporting event.
...you have ever spent more than $50 on photocopying while researching a single paper.
...there is a microfilm reader in the library that you consider "yours."
...you actually have a preference between microfilm and microfiche.
...you can tell the time of day by looking at the traffic flow at the library.
...you look forward to summers because you're more productive without the distraction of classes.
...you regard ibuprofen as a vitamin.
...you consider all papers to be works in progress.
...professors don't really care when you turn in work anymore....you find the bibliographies of books more interesting than the actual text. [this started happening to me in my junior year of undergrad...]
...you have given up trying to keep your books organized and are now just trying to keep them all in the same general area.
...you have accepted guilt as an inherent feature of relaxation.

[one from R. E. Hawkins at Iowa State]
...you reflexively start analyzing those Greek letters before you realize that it's a sorority sweatshirt, not an equation. [nor an inscription...]

[and some from Jody Culham at Harvard]
...you find yourself explaining to children that you are in "20th grade".
...you start refering to stories like "Snow White et al.".
...you frequently wonder how long you can live on pasta without getting scurvy.
...you look forward to taking some time off to do laundry.
...you have more photocopy cards than credit cards.
...you wonder if APA style allows you to cite talking to yourself as "personal communication."

That last one is too funny....

Alucinata sum...

2005-03-08T21:55:00.000-05:00

This past week, my head was filled with things I wanted to write/blog about....However, I have definitely been in hiding since last Thursday. I do that sometimes--turn off my cell phone, neglect my email & my blog and don't answer my door. I'm not sure why really--I haven't been in a particularly bad mood-I just have to turn off on occasion.... Now, after my long-ass week--my mind continues to spin with the things I'd like to purge.

Alucinata in Latin comes from a verb meaning to wander in mind, talk idly or dream.

I wanted to 'holla' at NDC and Mike-works-4-bandwidth for hooking me up with a gmail invite. I had been having a really hard time trying to decide on an email address. I didn't want to use the same Username as my other e-dresses, and I don't want to use my real name. So I've decided I'll use 'Alucinata' as it suits me pretty well.

I could probably go on for a while explaining the craziness of the past week/s. I've been living here since August, and have been bitching since I got here about not having the male attention I was so used to. I promised in a post about a month ago to explain my resolution to quit making the wrong boys fall in love with me [yes, Professor LitMuse--I haven't forgotten :)] . These two aspects of my life have collided in a rather interesting pattern in the past two weeks. However, I'm not quite sure I want to give such detail about that right now. Maybe for once, I've managed to use my charms for good (and not evil) and attracted the right boys....but again- that is boys plural--both of whom are troublesome for one reason or another. Not to mention the wrong boys involved, innocent victims of my irresistible charm :-) ...Now I am rambling-and arrogantly at that. To make this long story short--In the past 2 weeks, I've started dating this great guy, and within the same 24 hours, started sleeping with a boy I have little interest in outside of that--and who has a serious girlfriend. I'm evil--I know. To stand up for myself--at least I've put things on hold for the past week and stuck to it.

This great guy, who definitely seems to be all for a serious relationship, is a law student who is smart and funny and great--except that he kisses like a 14 year old and recently told me that he is a virgin. Wow. I don't even know what to think about that. I haven't let it bother me, as I do really think this boy is wonderful--but it's beginning to be something I'm fretting over. I'm not sure I'm really ready to talk about this yet.

What I am ready to say something about is prompted by NDC's recent post about being 'discovered' by someone he goes to school with. What's funny to me is that I've recently begun to think that we might go to the same school--I've decided I don't want to ask and don't want to know if I'm right. I've made this decision because the idea of being discovered by a classmate, or worse-a prof, is terrifying to me & something I've been worried about. There are those of you who know me in real life and whom I know read my blog--I know this ~~because Tyler knows this~~ because I encouraged you to read this. You guys are not the ones I worry about.

If any of my friends here found this by accident--and called me out about it--I would freak. I like to pretend that I don't care if I'm found out. I keep flip-flopping-but in reality, I do care. I guess my point is that if you know who I am--don't tell me, unless I've done something extremely horrible.

and that's all I have to say about that.

The reading list GIANT exam is in a little over a week. I think I can, I think I can.... At least I'll have all next week--my spring break--to spend worrying & studying for it....With that--back to work for me...

The Scorpio

2005-03-03T13:08:00.000-05:00

Scorpio Overview
Scorpio is one of the most misunderstood signs in the zodiac, and one of those with the worst reputation. While it does deal with serious issues, it does not deserve most of the negative things that have been said about it. In fact, it can be very positive.

The Element associated with Scorpio is Water. Water Signs are emotional: they tend to respond to the world through emotion, rather than physical action, practicality, or intellect. Scorpio's motto could be "still water runs deep." They may repress their emotions, but underneath they are lusty and perceptive. At times, though, Scorpio's water can be stagnant, depending on whether they use their energy in a positive or negative way. They may be vengeful or vindictive and unable to get past personal slights. Scorpios are motivated and loyal, but they are often misunderstood and people may see them as dictatorial or sarcastic. If they have an ulterior motive, they can be overbearing, but in a subtle, sly, or manipulative way. Scorpios are both mystical and scientific, a combination that makes them very aware of what is happening around them; they are a Sign of great depth. If they aren't careful, though, their passionate nature may lead them into self-indulgence or compulsion.

The Scorpio woman has great charm, allure, and inner strength, and is able to overcome most any obstacle in life. She comes across as self-confident and self-possessed and men are drawn to her for that reason. There is a mysterious quality about the Scorpio woman, because she is intensely private, discrete and secretive. Soon she will learn everything about you, but later you will realize that she hasn't given you many details about herself - that's Scorpio's natural reticence.

Scorpions are the most intense, profound, powerful characters in the zodiac. Even when they appear self-controlled and calm, there is a seething intensity of emotional energy under the placid exterior. They are like the volcano not far under the surface of a calm sea it may burst into eruption at any moment. However, those of us who are particularly perceptive will be aware of the harnessed aggression, the immense forcefulness, magnetic intensity and often strangely hypnotic personality under the tranquil but watchful composure of the Scorpion.

The operative word to best understand your Scorpio is "passion." One Scorpio once said to me that passion was the single most important ingredient in life, that is, to be passionate about one's loved ones, one's career, one's lifestyle, for without passion, what kind of life would we have in the end?

Their tenacity and willpower are immense, their depth of character and passionate conviction overwhelming, yet they are deeply sensitive and easily moved by their emotions. Their sensitivities, together with a propensity for extreme likes and dislikes, make them easily hurt, quick to detect insult or injury to themselves (often when none is intended) and easily aroused to ferocious anger. This may express itself in such destructive speech or action that they make lifelong enemies by their outspokenness, for they find it difficult not to be excessively critical of anything or anyone to whom they take a dislike.

Scorpio Relations

Scorpio's outstanding difficulty with others is the height and depth of its understanding. Much of the emotion Scorpio feels is extremely primitive and does not lend itself to verbal communication and intellectual analysis. Also, much of its knowledge is not easily communicated because it is beyond most people's understanding. When Scorpios try to communicate what they see, understand, or feel, they are often badly misunderstood. They then tend to keep silent because the misunderstanding that results from silence is better than the misunderstanding that comes from failed communication. Less secure Scorpios may react to the misunderstanding by blaming themselves and concluding that they are rotten inside. Burdened by a sense of inward decay and corruption, they do not realize that the "evil" thoughts they harbor are quite often felt, if a bit less intensely, by others as well. From all this comes Scorpio's reputation for secrecy.

They can harness their abundant energy constructively, tempering their self-confidence with shrewdness and their ambition with magnanimity toward others provided they like them. If they do not, or if their feelings are neutral unusual with them they relate to fellow workers only as leaders and can be blunt to those they dislike to the point of cruelty. In fact, they are not above expressing vindictiveness in deliberate cruelty. They are too demanding, too unforgiving of faults in others, perhaps because they are not aware of the shortcomings within themselves, and extravagantly express their self-disgust in unreasonable resentment against their fellows.

They do, however, make excellent friends, provided that their companions do nothing to impugn the honor of which Scorpions are very jealous. Part of the negative side of the Scorpion nature is a tendency to discard friends once they cease to be useful, but the decent native is aware of and fights this tendency. They are fortunate in that their strong reasoning powers are tempered with imagination and intuition, and these gifts, together with critical perception and analytical capacity, can enable Scorpions to penetrate to profundities beyond the average.

Scorpios & Sex
Scorpio is the symbol of sex and Scorpions are passionate lovers, the most sensually energetic of all the signs. For them union with the beloved is a sacrament, an "outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace." Their overriding urge in loving is to use their power to penetrate beyond themselves and to lose themselves sexually in their partners in an almost mystical ecstasy, thus discovering the meaning of that union which is greater than individuality and is a marriage of the spirit as well as of flesh. They are thus capable of the greatest heights of passionate transport, but debauchery and perversion are always dangers, and Scorpions can become sadistic monsters of sensuality and eroticism.

Whether in criticism or in envy, Scorpio is often called an extremely sexy sign. But if one is referring to the simple enjoyment of sex, Scorpio is not necessarily sexy. In fact, the sign is capable of denying itself sex altogether. Yet there is a relationship between Scorpio and sexuality. It is not the search for pleasure that brings a Scorpio to sex, it is the search for transcendence. The orgasm offers one of the few experiences of ego death and self-transcendence that is accessible to the ordinary human being. And it is characteristic of Scorpio that this is also one of the few experiences where ego death and supreme ego gratification are experienced at the same time. Scorpio does not feel the need to separate the two as much as other signs do. To a Scorpio, no matter how attractive and sexy the partner is in other respects, love that does not contain drama and emotional intensity will not endure.

Understanding the Scorpio
Scorpio is seen darkly because it touches so much that we reject. We want sex, but have been told that it is impure. Death beckons us all, but is denied in cellophane-wrapped America, a culture of the young in permanent denial of the wisdom, degeneration, and transformation of old age. Scorpio is also about power - oh yes, that too. It's about the exchange of emotions, feelings, and dollars, of time for money that we call work. Yet we turn our eyes away from the exchange, wanting but not watching, desiring without understanding.

We're in denial, too independent, wanting open relationships, modern relationships, negotiable partnerships with reasonable limits. But what are the limits of love, of passion, of the Soul? Why must we draw such clear lines of separation when that very separation is an illusion itself, the Cardinal Illusion that we are separate individuals, when we are truly bound together by our common humanness? Scorpio threatens us because we have forgotten that we are not apart, that we are connected to one another and everything else. Call it God, Goddess, Spirit, Nature, the All, whatever. It is Scorpio whose waters descend into our cracks and crevices, separating us from the separations and reminding us that we are One.

[I took all of the above from various parts of this site.]

Want to know more?
The Definitive Scorpio Astrology Guide
Pluto Pathology (Part 1) - Sex, Death, and Power: A Scorpio Triumvirate

Intestinally?

2005-03-03T00:55:00.000-05:00

I've been rather busy grading essays these past few days--too busy to blog, in fact...

Tonight, as I continue grading, I came upon this sentence in one of my students' papers and just had to share.

When Aeneas reaches a foreign land in which a kingdom already exist he usually
ends up destroying the kingdom either intestinally or not.

I'm still laughing out loud.

Other thoughts

2005-02-28T01:47:00.000-05:00

Inspired by those kids at Campus Mawrtius (cf. my previous post...), I've decided to post some of my favorite quotes on the Classics, education, literature in general, etc...

Enjoy!

Anyone who has passed through the regular gradations of a Classical education, and is not made a fool by it, may consider himself as having had a very narrow escape.

--W. Hazlitt, On the Ignorance of the Learned, (1818)

The advantage of a Classical education is that it enables you to despise the wealth which it prevents you from achieving.
--Russell Green

To provoke dreams of terror in the slumber of prosperity has become the moral duty of literature.
--Ernst Fischer, Art Against Ideology (1966), tr. A. Bostock

Literature adds to reality, it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides; and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become.
--C.S. Lewis, quoted in Paul Holmer, C.S. Lewis (1978)

Change does not necessarily assure progress, but progress implacably requires
change. Education is essential to change, for education creates both new wants
and the ability to satisfy them.
--Henry Steele Commager

Hmmmm

2005-02-24T01:31:00.000-05:00

Campus Mawrtius, a blog I read compulsively, has posted quotes from Nietzsche on Classics and Classicists recently. As I find them rather compelling and especially significant to my current life, I thought I'd post some of them as well.

2/8
Other than the great number of incompetent classicists, there is at present a number of men who are born classicists, but who are prevented for various reasons from realizing themselves. But the crucial obstacle in the way of these born classicists is the misrepresentation of classical scholarship by unqualified classicists.

2/14
Very little can be gotten by sheer violence of industry, if the mind is obtuse. In the case of Homer, numerous classicists think that violence achieves results. The classics speak to us when they feel like doing so; not when we do.

2/20
Ah, it's a miserable history, the history of classical scholarship! The most nauseating erudition; the sluggish, passive indifference; timid acquiescence.--Who has ever possessed any freedom?

(((Precisely!! this is depressingly poignant.)))

2/22
My purpose is: to create complete hostility between our modern "culture" and classical civilization. Whoever wants to serve the former must hate the latter.

(((Must they???? This sums up my internal struggle with my decision to go to graduate school... I know that I believe this to be true- that whoever wants to serve our modern culture 'must hate' classical civilization--but more often than not, I refuse to acknowledge that because I am terrified of it. )))

2/23
It is not true that culture can be acquired only from the classics. We can get something from them, but not "culture" as that word is understood nowadays. Our own culture is based upon a completely castrated and mendacious classical curriculum. To see how little effect this curriculum has, just take a look at our classicists. Thanks to the classics, they should be our best educated men: are they?

**2/27: multas gratias tibi ago, Mister Pedantic, for making me aware of my painfully embarrassing spelling error--I misspelled Neitzsche, for Christ's sake.... Ironically enough-- the most recent Neitzsche quote on Campus Mawrtius is as follows:

The consistency which is honored in a scholar is pedantry when applied to the Greeks.

Do you have a suggestion?

2005-02-22T00:43:00.000-05:00

Before I wrote my recent posts about grad school, an online buddy of mine and I were discussing what to do about my advisor. He told me to kick her in the head and then run out of her office the next time I had to meet with her. I must admit I was tempted...That same buddy and I had the following IM conversation this evening--

him: Any luck with that professor of yours?
me: nope...I have a test in her class tomorrow...c'est la vie, I suppose.
me: though I got some emails from my blog suggesting ways to approach the situation more like the ones you've suggested...
me: kicking her, having her killed, etc.
him: Great minds think alike.
me: indeed.
him: i hope that one day you can become this great all powerful person in the system and get the bitch fired and conjure up some mighty piece of dirt that will make sure she never gets another teaching job ever again.
him: it beats kicking her in the head....
me: thank you.

My buddy rocks...That is precisely what I needed to hear.

Anyone else have any ideas--silly or otherwise??

(fyi: I can't switch advisors and I've sought advice on how to deal with her from 2 other female professors- one in the department and the other who is the head of my TA program...I've also tried talking to my advisor directly...For now, I smile and nod, participate in class and generally try to kiss her ass as much as I can. )

Count Your Blessings

2005-02-21T18:29:00.000-05:00

If anyone is still reading this blog--to you, and to those who've taken the time to leave me some wonderful feedback--Thank you.
I'm surprised anyone would bother to read QFD again after my novels about my current problems with grad school. I shall now refrain from such extravagant exercises in self-indulgence. Obviously, I needed to get some shit out. I'm glad I did. I'll stop now.

What I've neglected to write about at length are all the good things in my life--both as a graduate student & TA, and otherwise.

As much as my advisor pisses me off and makes me feel terrible--I really don't think she means to. In fact, I know she means well--and I respect her a great deal.

My professors this semester are great. I'm learning a lot and am feeling more inspired on many levels daily.

I love being a TA. I want to be a teacher. This is the most fulfilling aspect of my life--my interaction with students, and learning how better to interact with students.

My friends are amazing--both old and new. Period.

There is no one on this earth who has a better father than I do. I would be nothing without his love and support.

I could go on, but I won't--I'm busy trying not to fail out of grad school....I have Greek test tomorrow, among other things, and am teaching a class by myself on Wednesday! Wish me luck!

2005-02-18T17:06:00.000-05:00

awwwwww

2005-02-18T17:03:00.000-05:00

This collar is the best.

Kevin Smith is Laughing

2005-02-17T09:02:00.000-05:00

Anyone who's seen Kevin Smith's movie Mallrats, would have laughed their asses off, as I did, at this morning's report on CBS about escalators.

For many people, the scariest part about escalators is stepping onto that first
step, or stepping off at the end. But safety experts say you could get seriously
hurt while riding an escalator as well.

Here's the link.

Graduate School Casualty part 2

2005-02-14T02:23:00.000-05:00

Rested and feeling renewed, I started my second semester as a grad student.
This semester seemed do-able, at first. Now, 6 weeks into it, I'm not so sure.

At least I don't have the extra burden of having to adjust to a new place with new responsibilities; I have made some friends and am beginning to lead a somewhat normal life here. I got a cat, Cato (the younger), unexpectedly right before classes began, and it's nice to have some company.
On no day do I have to show up before noon, and on Mondays & Fridays my first class isn't until 2:30. This schedule is much more fitting to my habits, leaving me absolutely no excuse for missing class due to oversleeping. (I slept through my 10am Latin class nearly once a week last semester, and occasionally my 11am class as well.)

Despite the fact that the reading list exam will be held this semester (just after spring break--so I don't get to enjoy it), I don't think I'm going to be overwhelmed by work like before. So far, my workload has been manageable. . .Knock on wood. The best thing, however, about this semester is that all my classes are enjoyable.
For one class I'm reading Lucan (I Love Lucan-he is definitely one of my very favorite authors) at a slow pace that allows me to really read the text & not miss any subtleties. In another, even though I'm beginning to hate Greek, I'm reading Euripides. This is good because I have read almost no tragedy. Dante & Saint Augustine are covered in another class, and I'm excited to read both of these authors for the first time. Finally, I have a class in the comparative grammar of Greek and Latin, which is amazing & fascinating, but quite difficult. In addition, the classes I'm TA-ing are really interesting, with incredible & wonderful professors, and the reading for those classes is also on the reading list exam--so I can kill two birds with one stone, if you will.

My grades for first semester were abysmal. I knew they were going to be as horrible as they were, and I also knew that I would be in some sort of official trouble in consequence. Sometime early in this semester, I got a series of letters from the grad school and the department telling me of all the requirements for avoiding the loss of my assistantship and possible dismissal. I wasn't too worried at first, thinking that I could definitely do well enough this semester to avoid any problems. I figured I should probably go talk to my advisor anyway, and make sure I'd covered all my bases. Prior to my meeting with my advisor, I made a list of things I wanted to cover so we wouldn't get into another discussion of my 'need for nurture', and I psyched myself up as best I could.

Why on earth should I think this woman could treat me with any sort of decency or respect?
I don't know why I bothered. . . .

My advisor quickly dismissed the questions I had, telling me to ask someone else, and attended to her own agenda--which seemed to consist of making me feel as worthless as possible. First, she went through all the mistakes I made last semester, reminding me of each individual screw-up, and she spoke (as she always does) in a commanding tone, phrasing each of my failures as a question. It was as though she needed me to answer to her for each one of them--or as though I didn't answer to both my professors and her last semester. I don't think it does any good to (re)make excuses for last semester; I understand what I did wrong & why--I can't change it. Can I please move on now, and try to do better? This whole exercise was quite demeaning; as she went on, I had to recall & repent for each of my failures and I couldn't stop myself from crying. There I was, again, sitting in her office crying and feeling like shit. She asked me why I didn't go to her or another professor for help, and the only thing I could think to say at the time was, "Because I didn't want to sit in your office and cry again."

Moving on... We discussed the stipulations of my 'Academic Warning'. The letter from the grad school told me what to do so as not to be on actual probation. The letter from the department told me that I'd received a negative review for fall semester. The departmental letter was the biggie, I thought, as two semesters with a negative review meant dismissal. I learned then that a 3.0 cumulative GPA is vital--as 1) I need to have a 3.0 cumulative GPA by the end of the semester to avoid academic probation; 2) If I am placed on academic probation by the grad school, I'll receive a negative review from the department. Ouch. Remember that two semesters with a negative review from the department means automatic dismissal--and I already had one. As if that wasn't bad enough--the only mathematically possible way to do raise my cumulative GPA the necessary amount is to get a 4.0 this semester.

I checked the math, twice, and sat in disbelief in my advisor's office. A 3.8 will not do; only a 4.0....I feel good about this semester, but I'm not sure about a 4.0. I struggled to compose myself and we talked about working my ass off to get straight A's. As the meeting came to a close, I asked her what she would do-were she in my position; i.e. What are my options if I don't get a 4.0 and what, if anything, should I be doing to prepare for that? She just told me to focus on getting better grades. When I told her I understood that, all she could say was that no other school would accept me after being dismissed for poor grades. She had no encouraging words or anything resembling kindness for me whatsoever. I thanked her and hurried to my next class, trying to hide my tears.

That evening I posted something to get my feelings out, but couldn't yet write about the whole thing. Now, a few weeks later, I'm just trying to remain focused and optimistic. It's incredibly hard not to lose hope. Half of me thinks I can do it--if I just keep at it; the other half wonders why I continue to bother. Every day could mean the end of my academic career. I think the main reason why I haven't given up is that I don't have any idea what else to do or what my options are. Should I try to get into some Education program and get certified to teach? Should I try to get a job teaching Latin at a private school? Should I go home and work at a convenience store? I think maybe I wasn't meant to do this at all, and if somehow I manage to get a 4.0 this semester, I'll just fail in some other respect later and have to leave. I can't stand the thought of having to go home and face the shame of actually failing out of grad school (despite the fact that I did not fail anything.) It was so hard to get here--the cost & effort involved in actually packing and moving, and then in adjusting and settling down--it will be even harder to leave. I know my father will support me and love me no matter what I do, but I cannot stomach the idea of letting him down or not having him be proud of me anymore. . . I don't know. I guess I just think that this system blows, and shouldn't let this happen. I also think that this is my fault, and I shouldn't blame the system. Most of all, I feel like I never got a chance. . . and no one cares about that at all. I can't be the only one who's had this happen...

[I plan to finish the conclusion to this sometime this week...]

Graduate School Casualty

2005-02-10T11:40:00.000-05:00

From kindergarten through high school, my report cards always said something about my not living up to my potential; "she's a smart girl, but needs to apply herself and focus less on socializing." Nonetheless, I never received poor grades. Even in high school when I was busy rebelling, and trying to prove that I didn't care, I still got A's & B's...I graduated with a 3.0 and planned to move to Montana with my bf to roam where the dental floss grows. I only applied to college because my father would have disowned me if I hadn't--and even then I applied to just one school.

Something changed for me in college. I discovered that I liked to succeed and to learn. After I was diagnosed with ADHD, I learned to manage my time and get the most out of studying. I took Latin because I had taken it in high school, and by the end of my first year I knew that my passion for the language was more than a fling. I majored in Latin, and somehow managed to graduate (cum laude) in 4 years with 3.9 average in my major classes.

I was so excited to go to grad school. I hated going to large lecture classes with professors who didn't care much about their subjects. I couldn't wait to go on & spend all my time focusing on what I love. My family & friends were insanely proud of me when I was accepted to all but one of the schools I applied to. I think they were all holding their breath until I graduated for fear that whatever apathy took hold of me in high school would return--- as though it was too good to be true. It made me feel soooo good to prove them wrong.

My first semester in grad school was a horrible mess. I knew it would be tough, but I was prepared to work hard and ready for change. Despite my optimistic attitude, I was completely overwhelmed by everything and had a really hard time adjusting. I realize that they try to weed out the weak in the first semester, but I was not at all ready for the reality of that. The workload was unbelievable, but it was the incredible pressure to succeed that weighed me down more. At 21, I was younger than the other four first-year students by 2 years at the least and the only female among them. Also, I was chosen as the Writing-Intensive Program TA for the Classics department, which is awesome, but they don't usually allow 1st year students to be TA's for a reason. The attention & time required to be a writing tutor for 2 classes of 30 students, as well as to fulfill regular TAtype duties, is greater than anyone in the department realizes.

This was my first time moving away from home, as my alma-mater may as well have been in my hometown at only 60 miles away. I had many friends and an active social life there, and still managed to get all my work done & get A's. Now, I didn't know anyone other than the other Classics grad students- who, with the exception of one gay guy, are all either married or living with their respective S.O.s. It was such a pain in the ass process to get my medication transferred here. And the methods I'd learned to work around my ADHD and still be a productive student were no longer working. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get anything completed & the work I was getting done was not very good. At the same time, my homesickness and loneliness on account of the isolation created by the nature of my work combined, and I became very depressed. I was having panic attacks every other day, headaches that no amount of tylenol could help, and was either sleeping for 18 hours at a time or getting only 2 hours a night. I started seeing a counselor and she helped a lot, but I was still having a lot of trouble. Both she and my father thought I should go to my advisor and let her know what was going on.

I had problems with my advisor from the first time I met her. She's the kind of person who thinks she's listening, but in reality hears 1/3 of what I have to say. Then, assuming she knows the rest, goes from there without stopping-- which usually results in her doing something on my behalf that becomes a giant problem I have to figure out how to fix without help. She actually got up and left while I was in mid-sentence once. On top of that, her focus is on women's studies and her involvement in the women's rights movement somehow relates to everything she's ever said to me. Don't misunderstand me--she is well respected in her field and has written some very important books. I actually find that I really get into what she has written-- but I can't stand her self-righteous feminist attitude, and feel that she has different expectations of me, as the only female, that I can't possibly live up to (and don't really care to for that matter.)

Still, I listened to my father's advice and went to her for help adjusting-- this was a HUGE mistake. My advisor assumed that I was having problems because I couldn't cut it & told me that I should probably just drop out and go back to Daddy. She berated me and insisted on telling me repeatedly how badly I was performing. (remember that at this time, class had only been in session for a month.) She said that my "need for nurture was obviously greater than that of my peers" and basically killed the last shred of hope I had for my future as a Latinist.

Completely defeated, I spent the next 3 days in my apartment crying & sleeping. Eventually, I stopped feeling sorry for myself and decided that the only thing to do was to keep trying my best. While the rest of the semester was still pretty rough, it did get better. I was not about to let my advisor, or anything else, get me down or make me quit. I still struggled; I couldn't manage to get even a B on anything no matter how hard I studied and I still didn't have any friends. I spent my birthday and Thanksgiving alone.

Because of my poor performance and the devastating encounter with my advisor, I didn't feel as though any of my professors cared in the least about me. I felt like each one of them had already made up their mind about the kind of student I am, despite my attempts to show them I was trying. Nothing I said in class was valid, nothing I wrote on exams was insightful, and nothing I did was right.

When finals finally came around, I tried to get everything done and do all that I could to prove myself to my professors & advisors--but I couldn't. I couldn't manage meeting with 60 students to go over drafts, studying for my finals, grading those 60 papers, and writing 2 of my own and I just kind of shut down. When all was said and done, I did get the papers graded, wrote one paper that I was actually proud of, but bombed each of the actual exams I took and couldn't spit out anything coherent whatsoever for my other paper. I flew home the day after my last test and slept for four days-getting up only to eat and pet my cat.

As my vacation came to a close, I found myself even more determined to succeed in my second semester. I wanted to prove those elitist assholes wrong, and prove to myself that I could do it.

To Be Continued.....

Silly Silly Androo

2005-02-10T08:37:00.000-05:00

In a recent post about Groundhog Day, I mentioned Galena, Illinois. My friend Androo commented (and I replied more fully on my haloscan thing) but I had to post a reply to a part of it. He wrote:

. . .I was amused to find out your father lived in Galena ILL! Galena, also known as PbS (one part lead to one part sulfur) in the Geology world, was named that for its abundance in Galena ILL and is my favorite mineral!

Silly silly Androo-

Galena is the Latin word for lead.

Galena, Illinois and your favorite mineral both are named from the Latin...
Honestly, he should have known :-)

This worries me (Blog Etiquette)

2005-02-08T13:01:00.000-05:00

I first learned about this poor 13 year old blogger at Para-Bellum:Immature Adults and InstaRage, and since then I've seen too many other blog entries about it to list them all...

I'm not even really sure why these men decided to pick on this boy. Apparently, he posted a picture of that toy soldier/kidnapped American that the folks at BlogsForBush had tweaked to show how the doll really looked like a doll. Then everybody there got mad at him-saying he stole the image, emailed somebody and somehow got all their traffic. The boy fixed his mistake, but they called him a bastard---pissing off his mother and half of the blogosphere.

a. I don't understand how he managed to get their site's traffic--nor do I care, really. The point made by Para-Bellum is a good one:

Listen, I'm sure Blogs for Bush gets all the traffic its little heart
desires and doesn't need even more. In fact, Matt's site is a pain in the ass to load.
But A LOT of people are using that image, A LOT! Where's the credit
from Matt from whoever he got it from. Plus not a lot of kids get told the finer
points of Copyright Laws, did you know it's basically cheating if you even look
at someone else's homework? Plus on the Internet, everything is basically taken
from someone.

b. Whoa! I've read Tony Pierce's 'How To Blog' and numerous others like it trying to make sure I'm blogging respectfully and in an acceptable manner. When I have a question, I ask friends who blog or post an entry about it-like my recent post about comments.

But I am worried. I want to blog responsibly because I want other bloggers to take me seriously and read my blog. I decided to start this blog because of those other bloggers whose sites I love to read (whose writing I enjoy; whose stories are funny; whose lives inspire me; whose thoughts are helpful..etc.)---in hopes that maybe some other folk would get something from what I have to say...

I wonder, then, if I've screwed up inadvertently and pissed someone off...

Then I remember the Most Important reason why I decided to blog--- Because it's mine and I can do/write/post anything (within reason) that I like. This is my place to express myself, damnit!

So, if I do something wrong--please let me know in a nice way....I'm a newbie with good intentions...

Replying to Comments

2005-02-07T13:18:00.000-05:00

1st--- It's awesome to get comments, especially those that compliment the site & encourage me to continue writing. As one who loves to leave comments, for it somehow exciting & fulfilling to let others know the impact of their words-- and because when you really feel what you're reading, you want to share that-- I love receiving comments. I want to know if someone else felt what I write, or found it interesting/boring/inaccurate/insightful, etc. It's great to get the validation...to know that you aren't writing just for yourself....I could go on, but I won't...Every blogger, I assume, must feel the same way...

So, I've just received my first few comments & am incredibly tickled. Thanks guys---Once I figure out how to reply, I will...

I can't figure out how to reply to a specific comment....It seems like I can only have my reply follow the last comment left if there are more than one. Is this what the link to this comment button is used for?

Also, I wonder if there are any blogger manners about replying to comments--Should I do so in the haloscan thingy or make a new post? Is it rude to make a new post and quote a comment? I have so many blogger-etiquette questions that I should make that a separate post...

Sorry--I realize this is not the most interesting post...

Meanwhile, I must get to class....

Greek Life

2005-02-07T09:15:00.000-05:00

Here's the proof!

Irrefutable! I definitely attended a fraternity party Saturday night....
It was fun though--these guys weren't horrible like the frat boys at OhioU seemed to me. Apparently, down here there are 2 types of frats: the bad ones like at OU, and others that aren't so stuck up or concerned with petty things.

What I did find amusing was that they had both beer and some concoction called Hunch Punch to drink. This punch tasted like it was just Kool-Aid, but it actually had a ridiculous amount of Everclear in it. At OU, this would be Harry Buffalo or Jungle Juice minus the fruit. Anyway- it was obvious that the hunch punch was for the girls, knowing that they'd probably prefer fruity-ness to cheap beer, and thus the girls were more likely to get drunk as hell. Tricky tricky.

They hired this band, who played some heady music really well- but were set up in this violently bright room so nobody paid attention to them. Anyway--the bassist was a gorgeous boy & I flirted with him for a minute...I wanted to talk to him some more, but we had to leave suddenly... He did mention to me that they would be playing at Tasty World sometime soon, and I think I'm going to go there today and find out when exactly that is....

Strange but True!

2005-02-05T22:20:00.000-05:00

I'm actually going to my first real Frat party tonight....I know that's hard to believe--but I swear it's true!!

I'm taking my camera to document the event---and so I can prove it later!
Pictures to follow!

cum tacent, clamant...

2005-02-03T08:25:00.000-05:00

Prologos:
A very well-known passage of Cicero's (In Catilinam I. 21) reads:

de te autem, Catilina, cum quiescunt, probant, cum patiuntur, decernunt, cum tacent, clamant, neque hi solum quorum tibi auctoritas est videlicet cara, vita vilissima . . .

To you, however, Catiline,
while they are calm, they approve,
while they endure, they judge,
while they are silent, they are screaming. (!)
And not they alone, whose authority clearly is dear to you,
though their lives unimportant...

I've always been deeply moved by this whole speech, and this passage in particular...While they are silent, they are screaming... For me--this is quite a foreboding statement, a fierce threat created by anger building up just as Cicero's cola do, and about to burst forth at any moment.

When I grow silent in my own anger, I go along as expected in a sort of calmed state and deal with it--that means I am incredibly upset and whatever/whoever is to blame is better off moving to Mexico than dealing with what I've been planning in my silence. (Remember: I am a Scorpio...) To me, Cicero isn't really giving Catiline a choice, rather he is just letting Catiline know exactly how greatly his actions have angered the Senate (-even Roma herself!)--exactly how much danger he is in-exactly how much he deserves his predicament and exactly how unavoidable his fate is.

By 1pm yesterday, my defenses kicked in and a slow calm spread over me. I reached that point. My silence speaks volumes of the depth of my emotion....

------------------------------------------------
Response to a friend...I didn't know was really a friend and who understands more than I realize.

I found in my email a few hours ago a short note that surprised me in an overly-contemplative fashion. This note is not elegant nor dense, not sneaky or flattering, nor imprecise; rather, it is wise and keenly perceptive in its simplicity--Obviously, to me, he wrote in haste, having been repulsed by the same things that he has seen repulse me, and felt compelled to let me know he identifies.

What surprises me is that not only does he see through my efforts to hide my reactions to the people & attitudes around me, but he must also understand what exactly about these people repulses me.

What's more is that he noticed that such efforts are slowly wearing at me -despite my frantic attempts to blend in, and I think what really surprised me was that he's not afraid to tell me that.

Yesterday was probably the single worst & best day I've had since I moved here. Isn't it strange how when things are at their worst in so many ways, other aspects I forgot I still had serve to keep me in line and to give me perspective. I will go into my day and such at another time... But, when I finally got to go home last evening, I felt like breaking things, screaming and being violent...Instead I called an old friend from home and cried.

That's why a couple sentences in my email have had such an effect....I was feeling so incredibly isolated, just wishing I were still in somewhere where finding a good friend to give me a hug is easy...Though I do feel more connected to the rest of this campus and have made friends with normal people at last, these people don't know me. Not really. Those who think they've got me figured out just make me feel worse. The majority of people though, just don't care to stop long enough to think about anything other than themselves. The rest are people I don't think I would want to socialize with, let alone get to know....This is the decay...this is what's disgusting/repulsive/ disillusioning/....

What follows is an except from his email & my response to it. I decided to go ahead and post this because I think I came closer to clear articulation of my thoughts than I am usually able:

You know...so many people are fucking sticks up asses. . . .
I'm glad that no matter how much I get stressed out, you're not a fucking lame ass. It's good to know that not everyone is just a dying corpse here. thanks for being real!!!

I responded:

I'm sure you had no way of knowing how badly I needed to hear that from somebody today, or how much I appreciate it. Thank You.

I think you and I can be confident that at very least, we will under no circumstances reduce ourselves to lame-asses...Though, I am beginning to wonder if there's some sort of airborne contagion in the Dept's air ducts responsible for the rampant epidemic of diaphanous, self-serving insincerity....if that makes any sense at all...

You too!---'Keep it real'

We who are still breathing, sentient beings, and not ashamed of it- seem to be a dying breed. I'm beginning to wonder if that is significant at all
--->Maybe it is simply not possible to connect or engage or succeed at this (or at this place, for that matter) while at the same time maintaining some sense of reality, as well as identity--and maybe even sanity.

Or, maybe it is that I am - and perhaps you are as well, [--and this seems increasingly more likely to me--] co-existing in an entirely different reality than those around me. The more lame-asses with corncobs up their asses and something to prove I encounter, the more probable it seems to me that the defect here is mine: everyone else is wondering what I'm hiding behind my own mask (that to me seems almost painfully transparent) - wondering what is stuck up my ass....or what I'm trying to prove...

And yet, I never feel like anyone cares to know or wonders what it is that I'm trying to say.

please forgive my impassioned ramblings; I've had a seriously shitty day and have been thinking a lot tonight about these 'lame-asses'

------cum tacent, clamant.
(Cicero, In Catilinam 1.21)

[AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

*****[As I sat writing this, 2 more friends of mine popped up out of nowhere--and helped me to remember that there are people who really do care what I think and what I say....who know me and my quirks better than most and yet, despite distance & time, they still take care of me and love me and understand me--without my ever speaking a word....J.B. & L.P. (you know who you are) I hope you know the difference you've made in my life, how much I've learned from you both---and how comforting it is to know, as each day I feel like Sisyphus, struggling uphill in vain to explain myself , that I never have to explain myself to you....You could probably explain me better than I can...I love you both.]

The State of the Union?

2005-02-02T22:17:00.000-05:00

My mind is spinning with too many thoughts about too many things for me to spend my time expounding upon Bush's speech tonight. I am very liberal, very much a democrat, and I'm sure no one really needs to listen to me drone on & on about my personal beliefs about George W. Bush.

You've lucked out. You have been spared.

I will say this: I am impressed by the incredible improvement in our President's public-speaking skills & the strength of his delivery tonight. It is obvious to me that someone has been practicing. And also- the authors of this speech are undeniably well-educated & at the top of their field for a reason. These guys have undoubtedly spent many hours pouring over the works of the Classical Rhetoricians....Specifically, Gorgias of Leontini and Marcus Tullius Cicero come to mind....

A certain Professor Hutchinson seems to agree with me....
[The following excerpt gives some solid info on Gorgias' life, work, and influence. It is taken directly from her course website and I suspect was written by a student. The emphasis is mine.]

[She]quoted an excerpt from the speech in Dionysius’ On Types of Style,
as an example of Gorgias’ ostentatious style and clever use of rhetorical devices. The speech includes many symmetrical clauses, such as: “May I be able to say what I want, and may I want to say what I should…”
- a clever paradox. . . .

When delivered by a good orator, these speeches were quite intoxicating. To catch all the symmetries, paradoxes and inversions however, was intellectually taxing.
The words were often so enticing that most listeners forgot to notice that the utterances themselves did not make much sense. The speeches were designed to rouse
and generate waves of euphoria. Such emotional appeals were persuasive but not
in any way illuminating- somewhat similar to the speeches of “Dubya” Bush…

Gorgias was a “trailblazer and innovator” in the use of
effective language. Many of his techniques are still used by contemporary
writers, such as balanced clauses and assonants in poetry. . . .
However, many devices eventually became obsolete, as they were excessive or too ‘flowery’.

Gorgias was so confident in his persuasive powers
that he took up most unlikely cases and argued against widely
accepted Greek conventions. For example,he composed an elaborate speech
in praise of salt- a worthless mineral of great abundance in the Aegean.

Even his philosophical proof that nothing exists was ostensibly orchestrated to show the superiority of his rhetoric. Gorgias’ most famous promotion of his
expertise occurs in The Encomium of Helen, where he attempts to praise Helen
of Troy- a legendary figure in Homer’s Odyssey who allegedly instigates a
10-year war by committing adultery and fleeing with her lover Paris of Troy.

As for President Bush's speech and its relationship to the masterful art of my beloved Tullie's work-- I don't have the energy left to get into this. My feelings for & awe of Cicero are too strong for me to be brief....

I never in my life thought I was capable of praising a GWB public performance--and mean it.

Go read this:

BUSH EMBRACES DUAL ROLE AS NATIONAL AND POLITICAL LEADER

Groundhog Day Resolutions

2005-02-01T22:06:00.000-05:00

Okay! Alright! I know---if you are going to be a blogger, blog every day! A week ago I lapsed back into my lazy-stoner self and haven't blogged since then. I suck.

I hope people read my blog and want more people to do so....

First, let me explain about Groundhogs Day and its significance to my family.

Some cold February in Galena, Illinois about 35 years ago, my father had an idea.

At this point, my father was still drinking and, I believe, recently married-though my older sister was not yet in the picture. Dad was never big on Christmas celebrations and after the holidays had passed, he thought there needed to be a big party. It was still winter and dreary and the next causes for celebration wouldn't come for too long. I don't know if he thought about having a Valentine's Day bash, but if you knew my father you'd know that Vday isn't my dad's favorite holiday...

Eureka!!!!!-- He would hold a Groundhogs Day party!

Everyone is invited and welcome--provided that each guest (or group of guests) bring some food item for the Groundhog Stew. As people arrive for the party, their ingredients would be added to the big pot of beef broth and by the time everyone is pleasantly drunk and enjoying themselves, the stew would be ready for consumption.

This was the premise for the original GD bash and over the years, certain rules regarding the stew have been made. One must first note that my father's name is Stew and so the idea of Groundhog Stew is a play on that-- [I'm not sure if any year's stew actually included groundhog, though I think there had to have been one year when somebody thought it would be great to bring roadkill, and no groundhog was included in the past 15 years at least.] Today, a list of these guidelines for creating Groundhog Stew is framed and hung up in our kitchen. I can't remember them all, but I do remember that keilbasa (sp?) is an essential ingredient and under no circumstances shall turnips or rutabagas be added. And there is an unspoken rule that no one may refer to this concoction as 'Groundhog Stew' in the presence of my father, as he is kinda sensitive about that for some reason...

Thus, our greatest family tradition was born...

So, in my family, Groundhogs Day is a HUGE deal; we don't even celebrate Christmas or our birthdays with as much spirit or enthusiasm. Groundhogs Day is the most sacred holiday of them all for us....We have a 2ft tall ceramic sculpture of a groundhog on its hind legs proudly displayed in our living room year-round.

This year, my father has postponed the annual bash on account of his poor health... he hopes to celebrate properly once the groundhog's prediction has come to pass. Have no fear, though, as my sister is holding her first annual Groundhogs Day party at her home in St. Louis....

If I had a larger apartment, or more than 5 friends, I would have one of my own...So, in lieu of a party, I've decided to make some Groundhogs Day Resolutions and share them with my loyal readers...

1. Post a new blog entry every other day--at very least!

2. Quit trying to keep this an anonymous blog. I don't write much about other people, and certainly not much for anyone I know to be offended. If my students or professors find this and learn things they shouldn't--So Be It! I shall quit worrying about it...

3. Go to class, every day, unless I am dying or incarcerated. My absenteeism is a big reason for my shitty grades last semester...This is going to be a tough one--but I can do it!

4. Budget--for real. I came thiiiiiiiis close to being evicted this month. (well, okay, I probably wouldn't really have been evicted, but still--I got the notice about it...) Never again.

5. Stop making guys fall in love with me for sport. This is a topic I plan to write a separate post about...I just keep doing it, and all that does is make a mess for me. No more playing with boys' minds!!

Okay, that's enough for now...

The Infinite Wisdom of Sheryl Crow

2005-02-01T16:48:00.000-05:00

I remember distinctly the day I bought my very first Sheryl Crow album, Tuesday Night Music Club. At age 11, it was one of the first CD's I ever purchased and is still one of my favorites. 'If It Makes You Happy' was my personal anthem in 9th grade. When I broke up with my first 'serious' boyfriend in 10th grade, Sheryl Crow was there with The Globe Sessions to help me forget 'my favorite mistake.'

The true test of an artist/album, I think, is still loving a CD & never getting really sick of it --finding solace in the music and identifying with the lyrics so personally-- as much now (or years later) as you did when you first bought it-->but for different reasons. Only a few artists/albums I love are like that for me, like Jeff Buckley's Grace (and everything else he's ever recorded), Liz Phair's Exile In Guyville, Both of Fiona Apple's CDs, Sublime's 40 Oz. To Freedom, and of course- the music of Sheryl Crow.

I recently bought The Very Best of Sheryl Crow and have been embracing my love of her. Sheryl Crow's music has always spoken to me, at age 11 or 15 or 19 or 22, and I still love her just as much as I did when I unwrapped that first CD long ago. Now I've found new meaning in the same songs I've been listening to for years...

So--I've decided to list some of my favorite lines from Sheryl Crow songs.....In no particular order...

Well, OK, I still get stoned. I'm not the kind of girl you take home....

There ain't nothing like regret to let you know that you're alive.

Everything's different, but everything's fine.
This is the good stuff--
Yesterday is only what you leave behind.
It's not having what you want, it's wanting what you've got.
If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad. If it makes you happy, then why the hell are you so sad?

...You can try me on my cell phone, you can page me all night long, but you won't catch this free bird . . . I'll allready be long gone...
If you could only see what love has made of me, then I'd no longer be, in your mind, the difficult kind---cuz' babe I've changed.

Every Computer Needs This:

2005-01-25T09:50:00.000-05:00

Thanks to my friend E from Myspace who showed me this site.....

Just click on the link, type in your first name when prompted and hit enter.

http://www.cse.unsw.edu.au/~geoffo/humour/flattery.html

Oooops

2005-01-24T19:07:00.000-05:00

One of my Latin teachers told us in class the other day about his problems with the chalkboard. He said, "In grad school, they teach you how to teach, but not how to write on the board." True.

His first story was about teaching in a huge lecture hall. He was writing on the board and when he turned around to look at what he had written, he took a step back and fell off the podium-area. lol.

"If you want to hear a really embarrassing story," he says, "Listen to this."

Apparently he was teaching a Roman History course at the University where he used to teach.
On the board, he wrote:

OCTAVIANUS

Now, having learned his lesson about turning around entirely before, he attempted to underline part of the word without turning around. He did so, intending to explain how the form showed that Octavianus was the son of Octavius, and then asked if anyone knew what this meant:

OCTAVIANUS

I really hope I don't ever do that in front of the class....Ha!!

Ewww

2005-01-24T18:25:00.000-05:00

Every day, I walk to class taking the only path I can....I walk under this railroad pass thing, which is kinda scary if it's dark...What is scarier, still--is this used condom. It is right in the middle of the sidewalk and it's been there since this semester started.

I guess I don't really know if it's used or just been taken out of its wrapper. Whatever it is, it's gross. If it weren't a condom, I'd pick it up myself...

Ewwwww...

Athena

2005-01-21T09:18:00.000-05:00

The Piraeus Athena

...I took this picture, and about 40 others of this statue, at the Piraeus Museum in Athens, Greece. She is absolutely stunning--

What is it about Athena popping up in so many aspects of my life?

While wasting more of my time reading blogs (and not books) I ran across this quiz 'Which of the Greek Gods Are You? and felt compelled...

Sure enough, I am like Athena:

"The Greek God Athena, of Education. You're seen as sophisticated, smart, and a really down to earth person. Easy to get along with, Easy to understand- and with great prospects. You do well in what you enjoy and often excel in most things academic. "

First of all, I must say that the majority of all those stupid quizzes are crap. This one is no exception. I believe that anyone can create these things rather easily based on whatever they believe to be appropriate--and do. I've got to be the Classics nerd that I am and add that this quiz in particular is bullshit. I mean, if you have to boil down the all attributes of an Olympian deity into one word, Wisdom would be more accurate for Athena (not Education, Dummy! She represents so much more than that...)

That said, though I am a bit biased, I think the quiz is probably correct about me...I do hope that I'm sophisticated, smart, etc and I do believe that I am more inclined than most to excel academically (at least, I used to be...). Moreover, I could spend endless hours contemplating the significance of Athena's serendipitous presence in my life... and find it hard to believe that this quiz is not significant--this is too frequent merely to be dismissed as coincidence.

Athena is trying to tell me something.

Another clue, perhaps?

I'm beginning to get weirded out by this. Perhaps being a student of the Classics is affecting my sanity...

For now, I'll just be happy believing that I am Odysseus reborn, and Athena finds me irresistible because I'm destined for greater things....

Bad News for Michael Vick...

2005-01-20T17:16:00.000-05:00

Sports

The World's Worst Grad Student

2005-01-19T11:44:00.000-05:00

Wow--I have lots of shit I wanted to say today....yet I've spent too much time looking at other peoples' blogs to write anything significant before I have to go to class...I really shouldn't have to go to this stupid class. I could write an endless post about how pointless my presence in my TA class....I won't....I will just sit and write what I can and try to think of ANY reason not to go to this class...but I have to, Alas...just so I can figure out when is a better time for me not to show up. ....I've got to be the world's worst grad student....

Yesterday, while waiting for one of my classes to begin, I was talking with this girl who was in a split-level (grad & undergrad) Virgil class with me, as well as in the Ovid course I was the TA for. She and I didn't have much interaction. I tried to keep my mouth shut in the Virgil class bc many kids from my Ovid class were in it, and I didn't want to look like an idiot when I already felt like one for TA-ing my peers....Anyway, this girl told me that I made her feel better about grad school because all the other grad students she knew were so fucking perfect, and seeing me miss class/fuck up gave her some hope...'eased her anxiety.'

As soon as she said that, class began & I didn't have time to respond...I was kind of in shock. That's a hard thing to respond to... Once I thought about it--I just wanted to shake her and tell her that I am the worst grad student--that I am lucky not to have been kicked out after such a horrible start...and that all the grad students seemed so perfect to her because we have to be, if we want to be free to enjoy life and not have the scorn/disdain of the entire department...

I'm not sure that made any sense....Oh, well, I'll edit it later...Meanwhile, I gotta run to class....
To Be Continued....

You gotta admit.....

2005-01-19T08:14:00.000-05:00

...This is pretty clever, and quite festive!

Ho Ho Ho....

Leave it coke-heads to come up with something this elaborate....I'm surprised as this seems like more of a tweaker thing to do...

one bad apple

2005-01-17T14:54:00.000-05:00

Mala mali malo meruit mala maxima mundo.

--The jaw of a bad man with an apple brought great evils upon the world.

I just think this is awfully clever.

2005-01-15T18:02:00.000-05:00

Last one, I promise!

She's really not a scary cat--she's a sweetie and I'm very glad to have a 'roommate' who doesn't mind my odd sleeping schedule. But she is a strange one. I can not figure out why she is constantly plaintively meowing. Some meows have a more urgent tone, especially when she's in the kitchen or the bathroom. With any other cat I've met, their meow is a specific communication-- she meows no matter what (food or no food, attention or no attention, pick her up or put her down...) and I feel like she's asking me for something I can't provide, insisting upon it. She's not an unhappy cat, but I just wish she could really tell me what the hell it is she needs so fucking badly. Ha. As yet, I don't have a 'proper' name for her, and have just been calling her 'Loud Kitty' (original, I know). I'm tempted to be a complete Classics geek and name her something clever in Latin, (despite being reminded of exactly how ridiculous when people do that by a fellow grad student, MB--damn you) ...hmmm: strepitossia?? er, gemitissima? I know those are both very wrong...Must go consult OLD.....

2005-01-15T15:36:00.000-05:00

Terrifying!

2005-01-15T15:27:00.000-05:00

Now--> Watch the transformation as I attempted to get a good pic while in mid-meow...

(I realize now that I should have posted these in reverse order....)

Meet Loud Kitty!

2005-01-15T15:19:00.000-05:00

--looking mostly like a normal cat in this one.....Beware! Pictures can be deceiving...In reality, I've captured in this pic a rare moment when she actually has her mouth shut(this happens only while eating, sleeping, or between mews...)

Blogging for beginners...

2005-01-15T09:09:00.000-05:00

Wow. There's a lot more to this whole blog phenomenon than I thought...I hope I haven't gotten myself into something I have no business doing....But, I've been spending enough (ok, too much) time reading (lurking) the blogs of others--I figure I've got the gist...And after spending my sleepless Friday night alternating between Blogger Knowledge articles and Aeschylus' Libation Bearers, I believe I'm ready both for the blog and for Euripides....

If anyone ever reads this, please let me know if I've done something glaringly erroneous. Thanks...

A few years ago, I had a friend tell me that if I could learn Greek & Latin, HTML would be a breeze. Three years and a B.A. in Latin later, Max, you are still wrong. How do y'all remember it all? Bravo!

Meanwhile, I plan to post some recent 'blog' entries from my myspace profile--just so we're all up to speed.... I think I'm going to try to keep my real identity anonymous, if that is at all possible, as I was somewhat hesitant to post certain things (especially concerning my department, love life, and substance abuse) that could get me into trouble with people. More and more I'm seeing news articles on the horrible consequences of having your blogosphere identity revealed to the real-live people in your life...

And then, for real, I will get my ass out of this chair and get to some chores that I've been putting off for a week...

My First Blog!

2005-01-11T18:09:00.000-05:00

Hello, and welcome to my blog.

After spending countless hours reading the blogs of others, I finally decided to set up one of my own. I doubt that many people will read this, if any--but, who knows? Maybe 1000's of people will find the aimless rants about my life as a 1st year female grad student in Classical Languages at a large Southern university to be fascinating! Maybe not....

M.A. Reading List Exam

2005-01-08T23:08:00.000-05:00

Reading List for M.A. in Latin
I. ANCIENT AUTHORS:
Apuleius Metamorphoses: Books 1‑2.17; 3‑5.6; 7.13‑9.10; 10.1‑11.25
Augustus Res Gestae
Caesar Bellum Gallicum: Book 4; Bellum Civile: Book 1
Catullus Carmina (complete)
Cicero In Catilinam I; Philippic II; Pro Caelio; Pro Archia; Somnium Scipionis; Epistulae: Ad Atticum 3.8; Ad familiares 4.4, 5.7, 14.1, 16.12.
Horace Odes: Books 1 & 3; Satires: Book 1; Epistulae: 2.3 (Ars poetica)
Juvenal Book 1: Satires 1‑5
Livy Ab urbe condita: Preface; Books 1, 21, 22
Lucan Bellum civile: Book 1
Lucretius De rerum natura: Books 1; 3; 4.907‑1287; 5.783‑1457
Martial Epigrams: Book 1
Ovid Ars amatoria: Book 1; Metamorphoses: Books 1, 8, 14
Petronius Cena Trimalchionis
Plautus Mostellaria; Miles Gloriosus
Pliny the Younger Epistulae: Book 6.16, 6.20; 7.9; 9.23; 10.96, 10.97
Propertius Carmina: Book 1
Quintilian Institutiones Oratoriae: Book 10
Sallust Bellum Catilinae
Seneca Medea
Suetonius Divus Iulius; Divus Augustus
Tacitus Annales: Books 1, 12, 14; Agricola
Terence Eunuchus
Tibullus Carmina: Book 1
Vergil Aeneid (complete); Eclogues: Books 1, 4, 10; Georgics: Book 4

Read the entire list in translation. This section of the exam will be allotted one hour; students will be asked to identify and discuss the significance of several passages. In addition to identifying the quotation from the particular work, the answer must also reflect a knowledge of the author and his or her contribution to Classical literature.

II. MODERN SCHOLARSHIP: Handbooks

A. Reading List for Historical Contexts:

1. M. Cary and H.H. Scullard, A History of Rome. 3rd edition. New York: 1975.
2. Colin Wells, The Roman Empire. 2nd edition. London: 1992.
3. Mary Beard and Michael Crawford, Rome in the Late Republic. 2nd edition.

Read all three selections on the list. This section of the exam will be allotted 90 minutes; students will be asked to give short answer identifications and to answer one in-depth essay question.

B. Reading List for Mythology and Religion:

1. D. Feeney, Literature and Religion at Rome: Cultures, Contexts, and Beliefs.
2. J. Bremer and N. Horsfall, Roman Myths and Mythography.

Read both selections on the list. This section of the exam will be allotted 90 minutes; students will be asked to give short answer identifications and to answer one in-depth essay question.

Drunken Self Loathing

2005-01-07T02:57:00.000-05:00

--originally posted on my Myspace blog--

The secret of being miserable is to have leisure to bother about whether you are happy or not.
-George Bernard Shaw

I went out to a couple bars tonight with my rad neighbor, D. We had had a few beers earlier---just enough to get the itch to go out and drink some more...It is still break here, and most of the students are still away, so the bars were not as busy as usual. Regardless, it was a cool bar to check out and my neighbor is such a good kid...It is great to go out again.

I realize as we are walking there that I have only been out 3 times since I've moved here. Twice with kids in my grad program who for the most part ----------------- (you know what I mean...I don't want to talk shit; older and accustomed to different lifestyles...)This was a somewhat upsetting realization-- Anyone at OU who knew me even only slightly would not believe that not only do I not have a social life, but also that I got the shittiest grades for the past semester...((Pigs are flying; Hell has frozen over)) If the old me randomly met the person whose life I lead here, now, she would have pitied me.

......Anyway--We had a few drinks there at that first bar and I ran into this boy I know from the absolutely most random situation I've had experience with.....too crazy and long of a story to write down right now (or perhaps ever)... He told us to go meet him and his roommate (whom I also know via this earlier insane craziness; this roommate is a trainwreck of a (frat)boy, but completely hot--the kind of guy you know will break your heart through his own self-destruction if not disapparation if you know what I mean; but so handsome and charming you'd still sleep with him knowing full well the kind of Romeo he fancies himself to be.... )

We met them, and ended up back at my place with some other friend of theirs and smoked some pot and chilled...

But they left rather abruptly, with yet another guy, whom I met just last night [---he stopped by to see my other neighbor and left his wallet at my place. Earlier in the afternoon he came by to get it....Then the kid turns out to be friends with the boys at my house. weird.---] after one of them explained the 'boy's night out' thing as they headed to a party and told me I shouldn't come...

"boys night out" doesn't work for me. I don't buy it... I really don't think I'm the kind of girl guys think they can treat like the dumb bitches they usually prefer just to date...It pissed me off bc it makes me wonder why, exactly, they behave/d with me the way they do. Obviously I was mistaken in thinking that these people actually are friends or had respect for me. I don't really know these kids at all and half believe that their friendliness is tonight. and may have been from the beginning, merely a method of mocking me--- in such a way that my lack of awareness is a joke ....I realize that I'm most likely being stupid; drunk and thinking about it too much...it is that these boys left when I first spent some time with them in just the same way...or at least left me feeling just the same...
I refused to acknowledge it then.

My point is this: I'm such a loser. Or feel as such.

Old Lis would never be feeling/thinking this way. Such a lack of confidence in myself and my thoughts is not something I'm used to...in any way at all....

Now, as of yesterday*, most of my energy is devoted to my overwhelming feelings of inadequacy in both an academic and social respect. Most of the time I'm aware of my Midwestern awkwardness, but not ashamed of it really, just conscious of it... I feel like I may as well have a giant neon sign above my head that reads "She's not from around here." As though everyone I pass on the street knows that I don't belong in this place and don't really know wtf is going on.I'm always comfortable in the weirdness that comes with being a Classics major...It takes a special sort of nerd to do what I do...But, frankly, I feel that I'm a bit more of a (socially) normal chick than the majority.....and still pretty cool, if I do say so myself.

It is the isolation that comes from not only being a grad student, but one who spends all her time reading, discussing and teaching dead languages, as well as feeling as though I don't belong in the South...or at (this university)...this is what gets to me...what makes me feel like such a loser...

the combination of these things doesn't get to me always...I understand that I only do this overanalyzing after the fact for brief periods of time & am quite capable of pretending I don't feel like shit--so much so that I've almost convinced myself....

I can tell as I attempt to proofread this that the alcohol tonight is allowing me this psuedo- self righteous indignancy...and incoherance.... sorry y'all

Though I'd swear that somebody has to understand what I'm trying to say....

enough...I'll either delete this entry or clarify later...for now, I'll allow myself to sleep and forget this helplessness

sweet dreams

*to be explained later.....