feminist? or...

...militant man-hating lesbian who hates kids? How should I label myself today?



I wish this were longer and presented more people on the street.

[Feminism Survey: Men on the Street]

nearing the end

I attended a group exit interview meeting/luncheon for student loan borrowers today.

First of all, I was expecting boxes-upon-boxes of greasy take-out pizza. I was pleasantly surprised to find spinach salad, garlic mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, rolls and grilled chicken topped with tomatoes. Someone at my table quipped, 'This is where all of our tuition money has been going.'

Second of all, I try not to think too much about my student loans. I'd already decided that I'd try to like to make it through my PhD program without having to take any out (who knows if that will happen). However, at this point, I've been in school and borrowing money for a long time. I'd just like to say, 'Holy should-have-been-an-underwear-model-to-pay-my-way-through-college, Batman!'

jitters

Because I'm pretending to be confident but not really doing it all that well...

Is it possible to have stage-fright when I'm not (really) going onstage? I think so. So, I'm just going to bundle up all of my nerves and send them out into the ether, where they will disperse. That's the way it works, right? I thought so.

Okay, thank you ether for absorbing my jangly nerves. I'll be back at two to pick them up, if needed.

midnight phone calls

My older sister has a rule (okay, a few, I'm sure, but I'm only focusing on one): no phone calls between 9p and 9a. At some point in my life, I have internalized this rule. Whenever I call someone within those hours, anxiety boils up in me. Whenever someone else calls me during these hours, my first reaction is always, with varying degrees of panic, 'Oh god, what's wrong?'*

Anyhow, there've been plenty of nights when I feel like I just want to call someone. To call and say something so pointless as, 'I'm meeting with Dr Chair today and I'm afraid that all intelligent thought will seep from my head into the the nether-regions of the universe not to be retrieved EVER.' Or, to call and say nothing at all, but just to connect with someone, like some non-physical handholding. Or, to call and say, 'I quit. The end.'

And, although I've been assured by many (and I'll probably be reassured here soon) that you are out there for me when I'm ready to call on you, I can still never quite make that phone call. Every freaking time, I hesitate and think, 'I'll just be wasting her time. He has his own stuff to deal with and doesn't need my whining. And, that's what it is anyway: whining.' This doesn't even begin to get at the mental screwiness whilring through my head, but you're getting an idea here.

So, tonight, it's the Dr Chair variety of anxiety (actually, it's the exact anxiety typed out above). I'll just send this off into the ether and hope that calms me. And, I'll remind myself that in twenty-one days, this semester will officially be over, but that really, I hope to have it wrapped up in fourteen.

I can do this.



Carole King and James Taylor "You've Got a Friend" [I've been somewhat in love with Carole King for most of my life now. Just thought I'd share.]

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* Let's set aside my own neuroses. Please, if you need, feel free to call me whenever. We all know that my sleep pattern is so non-patterny that I'm more likely to be asleep at two o'clock in the afternoon than two o'clock in the morning anyway.

school's out...almost

It's obvious I'm needing a break when last night, I made and ate dinner at, well, one-thirty this morning and tonight I made and ate dinner at four in the afternoon.

things that make you go "hmm"...

"The Truth About Perez Hilton & Miss California"

life: a circle or a line...or something

Someone close(ish) to our family recently lost his father. Yes, I despise death euphemisms, but that's the only way I could figure to word that sentence right now.

Anyhow, my screwy grammar isn't the point. The point is that I've talked to Pic about death before and we've been discussing it more lately due to the above and other events and instances. The other day, she said something about my mom's dad. I told Pic that my mom's dad isn't alive anymore. Then, she asked me why.

A few days ago, a group of us were signing a sympathy card for the above sort-of-mentioned person whose father just died. When Pic asked why we were signing a card, I told her it was because his dad died. Again, she asked why.

Explaining death to my four-year-old has proven somewhat difficult. I've attempted (and here documented) it before. I wasn't all that successful. How am I to be successful when I have zero idea what death is all about? I wanted to tell her that these people were older (or, well, old), but then what happens when I say that someone else we know is 'old'? Will she automatically think that other person is on the verge of death? I want to tell her that perhaps they were sick, but again, what happens next time I tell her I'm sick, or, even more disconcerting, when I tell her that I think she's getting sick?

I oh-so-lamely told her something about death being a part of life (hello oxymoronic something-or-other). 'We're born, we live and then we die. It's just what happens.' Yes, that clears it all up. I have clearly given my child all of the answers she needs. Mamma of the year, right here, folks.

I then went on to tell her what I think happens after we die, but I doubt that was very helpful to her either. And, as with most arguments I try to make, I qualified the statement in the exact manner I just mentioned: what I think happens. Why can't I just tell her, 'What happens is...'? Would that even help? I really think not, because what does she do when she encounters probably most of the people she will encounter who will tell her that I'm wrong? At the same time that I want to give her definite answers to sooth the gnawing uncertainty, I want her to remain openminded.

So, gah and ugh, this has been not fun. Not to mention (wait, I'm about to mention it), my own deep anxiety about death. It doesn't matter what I believe happens after I die, I still can't convince myself that I can just let go and die. I take this as a good sign right now that I'm not finished living, that I have the resolve to go on, but this is mainly optimistic thinking. I can only hope that when it's my time to move on (or whatever), I'll have accepted the fact that I too must die.