Scat

My birthday wish

2006-08-13T15:41:00.000-04:00

If there was one thing I could have for my birthday, it would be time to spend lying on the grass in the shade with a friend, reading and falling in and out of sleep as the day passes calmly by.

Reading Log Summer 2006

2006-05-23T22:39:00.000-04:00

* indicates that I have finished this work.Otherwize, I have started reading but have not yet completed the others.

*Out of the Class Closet: Lesbians Speak
ed. Julia Penelope

Queer Theory: An Introduction
Annamarie Jagose

Privilege, Power, and Difference
Allen G. Johnson

The Essential Left, four classic texts on the principles of socialism
Marx, Engels, and Lenin

Identity Crisis: A Social Critique of Postmodernity
Robert G. Dunn

*Waiting for Godot
Samuel Beckett

*Kushiel's Dart
Jacqueline Carey

*Middlesex
Stephen Eugenides

The Radical Woman's Manifesto: Socialist Feminist Theory, Program, and Organization Structure
no author nor publication data listed

*Questioning The Millennium : A Rationalist's Guide To A Precisely Arbitrary Countdown
Steven Jay Gould

Class dilemna

2006-05-22T18:03:00.000-04:00

My brain is spinning.

I've been reading so much lately on class it makes me insane. I can't even do a simple thing like walk to work or make myself lunch without it slapping me in the face. Everything I do, I ask whether I am merely acting as a product of my class background (a complicated identity to be sure). I know that this interpretation is too simple, that I am a tangled mess of intersecting identities, not only my class (which in a word would be working class) but lesbian/queer, white, christian, liberal, feminist, student, politically active, geek, activist, librarian, et cetera.

Of course, this makes me remember the argument that as long as we look at class as a personal identity and not an oppressive system we will continue to perpetrate the oppression not only in our own generation, but the following ones. How can we begin to tackle this system when we are coerced into believing that it is part of our identity not the means of oppression itself?

What constitutes class? How does it serve to oppress people individually, and collectively in relation to other identities? How does one go about working to dismantle it?

Why are we unable to look at class in the U.S.? Why do we ignore these problems and let them continue? Why is money such a secret and dirty topic of discussion? WHY DO WE INSIST ON BLAMING THE VICTIM?

In claiming a class identity does one actively participate in this socially constructed system that pits people against one another, devaluing their worth as individuals in order to quantify and replace this with the worth of their possessions? Or in claiming a class identity does one fight the silence that surrounds this taboo topic?

So many questions that I don't think I could ever answer, but ones that I definitely am trying to, or at least get a better handle/understanding on in my own mind.

Working on My Shit

2006-05-16T22:23:00.000-04:00

I need this summer (like the desert misses the rain).

There are so many things I need to do - and I have the time now.
Plus, working in the library is such an opportunity to explore books that I otherwize wouldn't get a chance to read.

Good for co-op, and taking time out to work on my shit.

Sick

2006-04-14T18:45:00.000-04:00

As I am going through this process of being doctored and finding out what is going on with me I realize that I have severely depersonalized this physical manifestation that is my body. It is no longer a part of me, but an entity on its own.

inspiration

2006-03-21T22:19:00.000-05:00

I find myself struggling to find inspiration in my environment, to seek something outside of myself to draw on.

I need to read novels that whisper secrets of human nature, zines that rage and scream hoarsely through cut and paste layouts, poems that don't rhyme and keep me up at night whispering to the ghosts in my room.

I need to run grass through my fingers, get a rash from the dew. To feel the snow as it seeps through my jeans, stinging my red legs. Rub sandpaper on my hand till it is raw -

I need to be heartbroken, to be estactic, to be mildly happy, to cry a little, to be enraged, and outraged.

I am here right now, a robot only.

Laptops and Financial Aid

2006-03-04T12:35:00.000-05:00

I hate filing for financial aid. It makes me ill. What makes it even worse, is that today, after moving my schedule around so that I would have the time to do it, the fafsa.gov site isn't working. There is nothing I can do. . . . .

Good news though, after today, I may be the proud owner of a new laptop. I have scrimped and saved, and FINALLY I can afford to get one. This means, besides all the stress being gone from trying to coordinate with library times and my life, that I should become a more dedicated blogger - I will have access to it all the time, and so, nothing should prevent me from writing!

Ahh. . . . my life is complete

2006-02-05T20:03:00.000-05:00

The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny

This is only the best song that has ever been created on this twisted earth. Go to the site, and listen to it. You will be thankful, trust me. Oh, and if you are into flash, look on newgrounds.com for the flash animation of the song. . .

Chorus:
"This is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny
Good guys, bad guys, and explosions
as far as the eye can see
and only one can survive,
I wonder who it will be
this is the ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny."

Mysterious Gesture

2006-02-02T16:57:00.000-05:00

Beautiful white flowers lined up along the stone banister in the drizzling rain, a sign that read THANK YOU, and more flowers scattered at the foot of the banister.

Who did this and what does it mean?

Goals

2006-01-26T19:23:00.001-05:00

Guess I should actually have some instead of wandering aimlessly. . . . . .

ARGH.

2006-01-26T19:23:00.000-05:00

Second day without caffeine. . . . second day.

Research

2006-01-25T10:35:00.000-05:00

I have surrendered my life to the research fates this term, working long hours on finding . . . something. As I learn more and more about the process of how and who does research in the social sciences, I become over-excited, and then in the end, scared.

I am giddy with the prospect of designing something to study, with the knowledge that whatever I am interested in, I have the power to further understanding on that topic. There are so many things I want to look at, so many issues that need someone to research and treat the topic with respect! How does one choose?

That's when things get scary. It is the researchers themselves that are deciding what is important to study, and then defining the ways that we should study them. We don't study necessarily out of objectiveness, but out of our own biases, our own schemas, our own faults and misconceptions. These cloud our views, our studies ultimately, and then in turn, affect our knowledge base. Who has been defining us so far? Who will define us now?

Me - a superhero? Why, of course!

2006-01-21T13:21:00.000-05:00

Your results:
You are Spider-Man

Spider-Man		85%
Superman		80%
Batman		75%
Green Lantern		60%
Iron Man		55%
Robin		50%
Supergirl		48%
Wonder Woman		43%
The Flash		40%
Hulk		35%
Catwoman		20%

You are intelligent, witty,
a bit geeky and have great
power and responsibility.

Click here to take the "Which Superhero am I?" quiz...

Anxious

2005-11-09T14:00:00.000-05:00

Waiting to hear bad news is not pleasant experience. In fact, it is about as far from a pleasant experience as one could get. Of course, here I am, waiting to hear that I am not going to be allowed to study next term. When will these people tell me that my plans are all for naught? Must I wait such a long time for a decision (a decision that is not really all that hard to make seeing as I have done much leg work to ensure that my proposal is quite clear)?!

My new found descriptor

2005-11-08T10:02:00.000-05:00

One of the best things about dopey texts is that they often have phrasing and vocabulary that MUST have been the result of drug induced humor. I cannot fathom that my text would be so hilarious otherwize. . . the authors must have not been serious. Anyway, while reading for Personality last night, I ran across the descriptor that I would like to apply to myself:

Amazingly hostile and Devious.

Use it kindly all. :)

Hmmmm.

2005-08-09T21:32:00.000-04:00

You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.
- Maya Angelou

We all make mistakes. We all encounter failure. Somedays, I find myself overwhelmed with the mistakes that accumulate on my daily journey. I become bitter, cynical, and defeated. It is easy to overlook the things that bring me joy, even if they are as simple as seeing a wild turkey, catching a frog in the pond, seeing a genuine smile on someone's face, or even hearing a loved one laugh. I lose sight of the bright opportunity that is laying before me. I don't remember that I am privelaged, that I have the chance to go and learn, to be independent, to make my own choices about how to live. I take my freedom for granted in a world where freedom is becoming more and more scarce.

I get frustrated, daily, by little things that shouldn't cause me any grief, but yet still do. These minute annoyances, instead of showing me that there may be a problem, become THE problem. Working and living in this manner is not healthy. It is not the way I want to live my life. By focusing on the things that are mere symptoms of larger problems, by bandaging cuts instead of safeguarding limbs, I am jeopardizing the one chance on this planet that I have.

I admit that I am negative. I admit that I am easily susceptible to cynicism. I can't let this stop me. I can't let my life drizzle out of my hands, not watching as I am too busy finding faults in all that is around me.

I need to discover who I am. I need to define myself before I am lost to conformity and hopelessness.

I am tired, achy, ancient, and yet I have not yet begun to live.

Okay world, you win.

2005-08-08T00:22:00.000-04:00

I give up.
On everything.
I just can't bring myself to try anymore.

Relationships don't make any sense to me. Neither does any type of social interaction. I fail utterly when trying to relate to others. The only things that comes out of my efforts are pain, misunderstanding, and a greater sense of my own isolation.

I am greatly bitter tonight.

Eats Babies.

2005-08-06T18:04:00.000-04:00

What is the one essay everyone should be required to read? Why that's simple! Jonathan Swift's: A Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland from Being a Burden to Their Parents or Country, and for Making Them Beneficial to the Public.
A tasty bit taken from this wonderful essay:

A young healthy child well nursed is at a year old most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.

More on this delightful proposal later. . . my ride just arrived.

Feeling inadequate sucks, so does being uber-depressed

2005-08-04T22:50:00.000-04:00

If you read my title, you could probably guess how I am feeling right now. . . . that is, unless you are just that clueless (I do not mean to offend . . . really, I empathize with your stupidity. . . I don't care silly - that would be sympathy - but I do empathize).

How does everyone else get out of their funky moods?
I shower.
I clean.
I write.
I escape.

Today I am too tired to do any of that.

Fock me, I am stuck.

It was the surrender she wanted. To stop fighting the storm and the enveloping night, to lie down in whiteness and sleep. I understood. I used to dream that I was skin-diving down a coral wall. Euphoria set in as the nitrogen built up in my bloodstream, and the only direction was down into darkness and forgetting.

Astrid Magnussen, White Oleander

I need to find a way to deal with . . . well, all of this.

More fun at home

2005-08-04T17:19:00.000-04:00

Today, due to the combination of heat and lack of air conditioning, my dad had another heart attack (just one month after his last one). This made him black out while he was driving. . . he ended up running off the road.

I recieved this call while I was teaching today. My brother phoned, and I checked the message later on in the day when my program was over.

When Brandon told me that he didn't know how dad was, I knew that I should call my brother, just to check in on him. Brandon would be crushed if dad died (though I myself find myself in a place where I don't feel anything anymore).

Why have I suddenly taken an interest in my brother's well being when usually I try to maintain as little contact as possible with him? When I feel physically ill when I have to be in the same town as Brandon? It is simple.

I feel that Brandon may still retain enough feeling within him to be reached. He is not a lost cause, not yet. It would be a way to lay foundation of trust between the two of us.

G.O.D.

2005-08-03T23:56:00.000-04:00

The major thing that I am fighting in my life right now?

The battle to refrain from sinking into bitterness.