Bragging

I have the best bedside table known to man, y’all.  Things it is currently holding?  Tissues, iPod dock/clock, a small aloe plant, mini fan, Villette, phone charger plus phone, cup of water, and mini passion flower candle.  And it is barely crowded up in here.  You jeallyyyyyyy?

I’m sorry, but I’m just not to the stage in my relationship with one of my older sisters wherein I feel comfortable playing “ORAL” against her in our Words With Friends game.  I’m just not.

Project Read

What am I supposed to be doing right now?  Research for my career development self-report, due Tuesday.  But what am I doing right now?  Ohhhh, you know, just  Wikipedia-ing authors.  Got Welty, James, Hardy, and Trollope all open right now.  No big.

I’ve always been a big reader, from the time my older sister sat me down between her bookcase and trash can and wouldn’t let me move until I had mastered Hop on Pop.  I looooooooved the local library as a little girl; hell, I still kind of do, although I don’t spend very much time in Dayton anymore.  From the Betsy-Tacy series, my one true and unimpeachable love which will last until the day I die, seriously, to the All-Of-A-Kind Family*, from the Mennyms (oooooh, which I haven’t read since I was about 8 or 9, I wonder if they’re still just as magical?) to the Rose Wilder books, I was always, always reading.  This habit continued through grade school and junior high, as I discovered the His Dark Materials trilogy, Agatha Christie mysteries, and, of course, Harry Potter.  Unfortunately, my passion fell off a little when I entered high school, and mandatory novel reading became par for the course in my Honors-track English courses.  I hate, hate, HATE being rushed through a good book, and although I’ve always been an avid reader, I’m also a slow one.  The pace of the courses was just too fast for me to get really involved with the books, so even though I discovered a bunch of great writing which I still love to this day (Jane Eyre, A Tale Of Two Cities, Crime And Punishment, Shakespeare, etc.), a lot of the time I was frustrated or stressed while reading them.  I also didn’t get a lot of leisure reading in, which I sorely missed, even through college.

As you may have picked up from reading pretty much anything I’ve written in the past few years here, I was an English major in college.  My decision to become an English major at the time felt like such a decadence to me.  I was already majoring in Psych, but upon discovering that I could seriously finish that major within, like, two and a half years, I talked it over with my advisor and decided, ahhhh, what the hell, let’s add English, too, shall we?  Best.  Decision.  Of my LIFE.  From the introductory course I took my first semester to the high-level, theory-driven courses I ended up taking junior and senior years (plus one Shakespeare one I conned my way into freshman year, which was pants-shittingly terrifying for someone who was surrounded by seniors, knew less than nothing about literary theory, and had only read about three of his plays, but ended up being simultaneously awesome, as well), I loved it all.  Even the shit-tastic Contemporary Fiction course I took one spring (although that was mainly because there was this way cute, very articulate adn intelligent-seeming Graphic Design major in that class).  I just had this overwhelming urge to learn and to know as much as possible, because capital-L Literature captivated me.  Still does.  I wanted to understand the theories and memorize the time periods and who fit where and what their major works were and basically just read everything.  I was introduced to John Donne, William Faulkner, Evelyn Waugh, a new and begrudging appreciation for Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Virginia Woolf, Kate Chopin, TS Eliot, and my new literary boyfriend, Henry James.  Even amidst all this literary love, there were some real shitstorms in there, like the freakin’ Brit Lit pre-1600 class that was all Chaucer and Beowulf and basically a recipe for boredom, or the two WD Howells novels I was supposed to read senior year, but seriously, some dude’s paint business is just not interesting to me, I’ll pass.  Also, I was assigned to read Sister Carrie twice, once as a freshman and once as a senior, and finished it zero times.  I’m still bound and determined with that one though, and one day, I’ll make it through.  All this is a really long-winded way of saying that college ignited the thirst for literary knowledge in me that had always been simmering just under the surface, and it hasn’t really let up.  Since I was focused so much on, you know, being an English major, there wasn’t much time for reading for pleasure.  I was too busy trying to force my way through Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man to have time for, like, Jeffery Eugenides or Jonathan Franzen.  Summers became prime pleasure-reading time for me, although I spent them mainly with light and easy mysteries.

However, at the beginning of the year, a roommate and I both dedicated ourselves to reading more of what we wanted, if only for fifteen minutes at the end of the day, mostly to help keep our sanity intact through second semester.  I was so happy!  I read an Irene Nemirovsky work, Emma, and started The Age of Innocence.  I’m not sure what happened, but around March, the habit fell away, and though I tried to re-ignite it with Anna Karenina in June, uhhhhh, June is maybe not the best time to start a lengthy, dark Russian drama, and I failed.  The only thing I’ve really read since July is Betsy and the Great World for maybe the fifteenth time.  So I’ve decided to re-(re-, re-, re-)dedicate myself to pleasure reading.  I know it might seem like, heyyyyy mayyyyyyybe since you never stick with it, it’s not the best hobby for you!  But it is!  I promise, it makes me so, so happy, I just tend to let myself get caught up in other things and let my novel-reading slide, and then I return to that novel like six weeks later and am like “Wait, wait, wait.  WHO is Ellen Olenska related to again?”  But it’s something that is so incredibly relaxing and allows me to unwind after long grad-school days, and fills the literary void in my life now that all I’m doing is learning about counseling.  So I’ve re-picked up The Age Of Innocence and am just tearing through it and have no idea why I put it down in the first place, and I have a six-week break ahead of me and can’t stop squealing about all the good reading I’m going to do.  I’m on a huge late nineteenth/early twentieth century kick, hence most of my authors I’m looking up currently, and I CANNOT wait to start crossing things off of my book list.  PLUS, the time is ripe to start forming my New Year’s Resolutions, and one of them will undoubtedly revolve around reading more in 2012.  I’m so happy, so excited, and so, so, SO ready to read.

*Hoooooly shit, I just looked this series up on Amazon, and the “Customers who bought this also bought” suggestions offered up both Blue Willow, which fascinated me as a young girl and which I had totally forgotten about, and CADDIE MOTHERFUCKIN’ WOODLAWN, which I loved so so so so SO MUCH when I was little and once read in a single afternoon.  Oh my.  Be still, my beating heart.

My Mother’s Daughter

I just got really sad and nervous because I didn’t know if Johnny Mathis was still alive, so I looked it up just to make sure.  Alive and kicking.  THANK GOD.

Paper-Writing Blues

Remember when I was writing my thesis and I would lapse into hysteria occasionally?  Well, I haven’t written anything spectacularly long or taxing since then until….today mostly.  I’ve spent literally all day, since about ten this morning, at my desk writing a research paper, and I just glanced up at my monitor, laughed like a maniac, and whisper-screamed, “Why do I have so many tabs open?“  I take this as an indication that my writing skills have seriously deteriorated since spring, because on thesis-night, the hysteria didn’t set in until WELL into my all-nighter, and tonight….wellllllll, it’s only just past eight.  Can’t wait to see what’s laying in wait for me in the next six or so hours!

On another note, though, I have learned that now that the sun has set it is officially Simchat Torah!  And for the first time in my life, I actually know not just that that exists, but also what it actually means!  I gotta admit, even though I am slowly losing my mind over the writing process, it’s been fun learning about a vastly different culture all day.  Yeah, that’s right, I’ve done almost all of my research for this paper due tomorrow in the past, mmmmmmm, let’s call it 20 hours.  Procrastination at its finest, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Things and Thoughts

Bullets on my life in Athens thus far:

• The apartment is almost all set up, except for putting my clothes away.  That was always my least favorite chore, so it’s not surprising that it’s what I’ve saved for last upon move-in.
• I’m broke.
• Also, I got so totally scammed by this company claiming they would set up my cable and internet for me through TimeWarner, when in actuality they did nothing of the kind!  More updates on that as they become available!  My life!  It’s charmed!
• Also also, apparently now it’s an issue that I haven’t registered for classes yet, even though I’ve been told repeatedly that I’ll do that at my orientation?  SOMEONE JUST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK TO DO.
• I am incredibly obsessed with The Good Wife.  Obsessed, as in, I watched six episodes yesterday, haven’t gone anywhere since Monday, and have yet to shower today because it is just riveting.  I am completely unsurprised that living alone has done this to me.
• Living on the ground floor is weird.  I like having my blinds open, but I constantly feel like I’m on the verge of getting Peeping Tommed, especially because there is a parking spot directly outside of one of my living room windows.  Don’t even get me started on the lady who parked there and sat and ate a sandwich like no big thang yesterday afternoon, while I tried to act nonchalant at my computer 30 feet away (50 feet away?  80?  I seriously cannot guesstimate distances.)  On the other hand, I’m totally watching this keys-locked-in-the-car drama unfold right now out in the parking lot.  The coterie of attempted unlockers has grown from two dudes to five and a wire coat hanger in the last 20 minutes.  Shirts are being removed, muscles are being flexed.  Mmmh.  You win some, you lose some, I guess.
• There is this giant fucking fly that, I PLEDGE, is going to meet the true death via my PALM if it doesn’t stop flying into my face and landing in my hair.  Perhaps it’s just trying to tell me to go fucking shower and stop watching The Good Wife.

I’m just gonna go ahead and admit that whenever I’m feeling a bit lost, lonely, upset, confused, or frightened, I pull out my Shakespeare anthology and read something random, and it always makes me feel a tiny bit better.

Liveblogging My Thesis? Let’s Do This.

This is going to be SUCH a fun night.  My thesis is due tomorrow at noon, and in true procrastinatory style, I have yet to finish it.  I mostly have a laundry list of small things plus some major organizational issues to work through, and since I’ve been pretty neglectful about my writing here, AND since I’ll spend most of tonight talking to myself anyway, I thought, “What better time to update?”  So I plan on stream-of-consciousness-ing it up over here til this bitch is done.  And honestly, I could use the “been working on my thesis” excuse for having been absent so long, but on the real, April was just a shitty uninteresting month; completely DID NOT live up to last April, so I really haven’t had much material to work with.  Until now.  So.  I was blessed to have a professor who was flexible enough to allow me to write about Mad Men instead of focusing on literature which is really, really cool and totally unexpected of the English Department.  So, the topic: Mad Men, Advertising, and the Creation and Validation of Identity.  Uhhhh that’s a working title.  Alright now, bullets to the end!

• 10:21 PM: Working on the introduction now.  This is always one of the hardest parts for me.  Luckily, the last episode of season three was spectacular; it boasted the BEST writing I’ve ever heard, so I’m starting with a quote and working my way forward.  Cliche?  You bet your advertising ass it is.  I don’t have time for creativity at this point in the game.  Brass tacks here, people.
• 10:41 PM: MLA dictates that, when citing recorded telelvision episodes, each episode needs it’s own individual citation in the bibliography.  OH FUCK.  I don’t even KNOW how many episodes I’ve cited so far.  Double digits.  Now I have to track down the writer and director of each ep and make separate entries for each.  Help help help.
• 11:00 PM: Oh man.  Don Draper.  Oh man.  Eeeeesh.
• 11:16 PM: This has nothing to do with my status but roommate H. just sent me the GREATEST text.  “Gossip Girl here, your one and only source into BG’s drunks.  Spotted: (name of guy I used to hook up with who, surprise, is kind of a douche) the knave outside of The Attic.”  Best.  Best best best.
• 11:48 PM: Jesus, how many times did I mistakenly write “Martinson’s” instead of “Martenson”?  At least five on one page, great!
• 12:15 AM: Looking at pictures from the Met Gala.  Yep.
• 12:15:30 AM: Realized it’s AM, not PM.  Heh.  Since this thesis is due at noon, this is a positive development.  Also a positive development for my time-telling skills in general.
• 12:27 AM: Roommate M is home; she’s going to be up all night, too.  Finals week is upon us!
• 12:34 AM: Oh my God, creeping on Facebook (seriously, did you take me lightly when I proclaimed myself a master procrastinator?  Silly, silly.) I ran across a picture of graduating seniors who work at the Union Starbucks and got all teary.  I don’t even know most of their names, but these people have been serving me coffee on the reg for so many years!  Man I am so sad to be graduating!
• 1:11 AM: Can’t stop humming Robyn’s “Dancehall Queen”.  Did I tell you she’s my new hero/role model/guru/girl-crush?  She is.
• 1:12 AM: This whole “live-blogging my thesis” thing has turned into more of a “live-blogging my every mundane thought” thing.  Hope you don’t miiiiiiiiiind.
• 1:20 AM: Thomas Frank’s The Conquest of Cool has basically been my bible for this project, PS.  So, so fascinating, and, because my life is low-key magical sometimes, my professor totally gave me one of his used copies.  To keep.  For free.  Yes, I plan on actually reading the whole thing this summer.  NERDOUT.
• 1:24 AM: I actually think I might be able to shoot for 4 or 4:30 as a finish time?  Which would give me a solid five hours’ sleep, since I plan on getting up at 9:30 to print and turn this monster in.  BUT, that bib is gonna be a BEAST to tackle.  So.  Maybe more like 5 or 5:30.  Eghhhhh.
• 1:37 AM: Brief bout of hysterical laughter.  My introduction is going to be, like, one-third of my thesis, I think.  Cool.
• 2:12 AM: Ok.  Yes.  Ok.  Starting to feel really good about things.  FINALLY think I have an idea on how to fix my largest organizational issue.  Fuck yeah, fuck yeah.
• 2:46 AM: Slowly but surely, slowly but surely.  Also, it’s FREEZING in my apartment.  I’ve got on socks, slippers, sweats, and a hoodie WITH the hood up, and my nose is still cold.
• 3:07 AM: I think I’ve finally spit out what I want to be the final thesis statement of my thesis.  I think.  Time to take a break, put on my senior year playlist, and look up all the writers and directors.
• 3:34 AM: THAT only took half an hour.  Pulling the rest of the bib together now instead of later, mostly because I can’t face finsihing organizing and adding transitional material and re-reading what I wrote earlier and checking cohesion and unity and blahblahblah just yet.
• 3:40 AM: And thaaaaaat only took five minutes, as all I had to do was copy and paste all of my other sources over from my annotated version, which was due ages ago.  Eff.  Time to bite the bullet and just grind it out until I finish this bitch.  That sounds like every snuff film plotline?
• 3:51 AM: My intro spills over onto the fourth page.  My bib spills over onto a third page.  Too much?
• 4:28 AM:  Oh.  I kind of forgot I was doing this.  Prime reason why the brain is not made for all-nighters.
• 4:31 AM: FUCK IF I KNOW WHAT THE ETHICS OF MANIPULATION HAVE TO DO WITH MY THESIS RIGHT NOW.  I QUIT I QUIT I QUIT.
• 4:33 AM: More hysterical laughter, this time verging on tears.
• 4:58 AM: Oooooh, “jai alai”, that’s fun to say!
• 5:10 AM: I’ve officially entered that space where I’m not really sure anything I write makes sense or is flowing well at all anymore.  Ayyyyyy.
• 5:11 AM: Just misspelled “really” as “relly” for a second up there, which is probably one of my LEAST FAVORITE misspellings in the WORLD.  It makes my skin crawl.
• 5:30 AM:  And here we are at what became my REAL goal bedtime for the night (or morning, I suppose).  I’m waving as I go speeding by
• 5:31 AM: My thesis is making less and less sense the more I work on it….
• 5:35 AM: “The Puppy Who Lost His Way”.  I am so MUDDLED right nowwwww.
• 6:06 AM: My mother has officially started her day.  And I have not officially ended mine.  Things are coming together in a pretty piecemeal fashion.  I’m not confident at all, but I am weary.  I am tired and I just want the damn thing to be DONE.  So, I’ll take piecemeal.  Probably not the attitude I should have toward arguably the biggest, msot important piece of writing in my academic career, but there it is.
• 6:27 AM: Was stretching just now and almost fell out of my chair when I realized it’s already getting light outside…
• 6:43 AM: Hallelujah praise Jesus, I’m working on the conclusion.  The body may or may not need more work; I can’t tell anymore.  It will definitely get a few more proofread-throughs, as well as somes adjusting and tweaking here and there, but for the most part I think it’s alright.  The end is near….?
• 6:57 AM: Ooooooh, nope. Uh-uh, shouldn’t have crept on that person on Facebook.  That was like punching myself in the gut.  Oh, I’m sorry, I’m supposed to be writing (about) my thesis?  Whoops.  Still not closing that window. 
• 7:20 AM: Twelve hours ago I was in the midst of my shift at work.  Twenty-four hours ago I was fast asleep in my cozy, cozy bed.  Sigh.  No I’m not finished yet, that’s what she said.
• 7:34 AM: Doing an out-loud readthrough.  This could be soooooo terrible you guys.
• 7:41 AM: I seriously tries to use the “word” “manipulatory” instead of “manipulative”.  Wow.
• 7:56 AM: About halfway through reading, correcting, tweaking and editing as I go, and I am a lot happier with this than I originally thought.  I just needed to focus my brain.
• 8:11 AM: OMG.  The word “young” like four times in one sentence.  Eeeesh.
• 8:32 AM: Alllllllmost an hour later- readthrough complete.  And….thesis complete?  I can’t decide if I want to just leave my last sentence as is, or go out with a bigger bang.
• 8:45 AM: Yep.  Done.  Complete.  Finito.  Amen I say to you, my thesis, she is birthed.

Well.  HASN’T THIS BEEN INSTRUCTIVE AND FUN.

The Apple And The Tree

Sitting here watching Jeopardy in my empty apartment, my heart was warmed by the fact that I know without a single doubt in my mind that my dad is at home in Dayton doing this exact same thing at this exact same moment, his feet probably propped up in his armchair, my mom on the computer in the other room.  I haven’t been home in about a month, and I’m starting to get that feeling in my chest, the one that alerts me that I’m just ready to see my family room again.  I’m prepped to have a pretty kickass weekend starting tomorrow, but next Friday?  I am gonna hit I-75 SO HARD for Dayton.  Sigh.  February, winter, I am so over both of you.

Lady Jane Fill-In-The-Blank

You know, I don’t normally go for British spellings of words (…because I’m American), like ou‘s instead of just o‘s, or s’s in place of z‘s, but one thing I can really get behind, and kind of grit my teeth at changing, is grey instead of gray.  It just looks so much more elegant the British way.  Is it ok to just adopt that into my writing and move on with my life?  Please say yes.

Also, it’s probably pretty hopelessly American of me that I actually pulled the title of this post not from the Nine Days’ Queen, but from what I’m pretty sure was Betsy Ray’s cat’s name, huh?

PS: My apostrophes are doing some crazy, crazy, CRAZY things up there in the first paragraph, and I just cannot.  They’re staying that way, I’m SORRY.