I'm in the Periodicals library, half-assing a final edit of my sub-par Jewish history paper and flipping through Kate Bolick's famous piece for the September 2011 Atlantic, "All the Single Ladies".
It's a little long so I'm kinda skimming for numbers and anecdotes I could drop in a conversation with my parents, as I have done with long articles in grown up magazines since time eternal. My hope is that this will make my parents think that I'm Sophisticated and News-Literate. Also, isn't it great to listen to the Moth podcast? Mom? Do you like that I do that? Do you think I'm smart?
Anyway. This article is tryna say, I think, that more women aren't getting married, that the reasons are complicated but understandable, and that women like the author and myself are gonna have to accept that while Getting Married might Happen To Us, it very likely might Not.
Calmail, our email interface (is that what people mean by "interface"? Do I mean "server"?) is down. Has been since our return from Thanksgiving. This is making me pretty anxious. Calm til Christmas, says Goddessmom. Calmail til Christmas, says me.
Over break I made jam cookies inspired by Phoebe (shout out to Phoebe, pictured, but they weren't as good as hers) and during the Chill for Another Thirty Minutes part I took a little walk. I was already around the block when I realized I was still wearing a large striped apron. It was not an ideal time to turn around and remove the apron because, as you'll recall, I only had thirty minutes to begin with and doubling back would effectively end the walk. I thought about hanging the apron on a fence post, but it's a pretty nice apron and truthfully belongs to GoddessMom. I didn't want to stop walking because I was listening to the (titular) top 40 hit by Wiz Khalifa and Snoop Dogg ft. Bruno Mars. If pressed, I would include none of the three in my Top Ten "Top 40 Artists of The Twenty-Tens". But this song has a pretty great melody and as I listened to it I came up with a music video concept that involved, surprising, young/wild/free people taking off aprons and having a good time.
It's never felt more natural and satisfying to be back in Btown. A great Leisure Activity I've enjoyed since my return is called Reading the Rolling Stone Interview with George Clooney, followed shortly by Wandering Around the House Wondering if George Would Like my Outfit. I've also done Drinking Large Milkshakes with BFFs+Cousin, Kicking Ass at Speed Scrabble, and Whipping Some Cream To Make Whipped Cream. Looks like we're about T-Minus 1 hour from Having Giant Feast That Will Culminate in Desserts Topped with Whipped Cream. Once again, hard work pays off.
Good News. I remembered about the challenge, so I will not be disqualified. Also, Elaine is on Josephine's computer making a new blog right next to me while I blog. So, this post should count for a million posts. I'll do the other part of the challenge, which is commenting on everyone else's posts, tomorrow!
A good thing that happened to me today is that pretty much all of my friends, and that includes Elaine, got to watch Parks and Rec together in Berkeley, California. Watching a show about Indiana with your best friend from Indiana with your best friends in California. I call that a great day.
Ya'll, E is downstairs. I told her I had to change into dry clothes and would be right back down. This is true! But I didn't tell her that I'm going to make a quick blog so I'm not disqualified from the challenge.
Today we took Muni to the close side of Golden Gate Park and walked all the way to the ocean. Needless to say, it was the best day of my life.
The best thing that happened to me today is, Elaine is here! She's taking a nap because she's jetlagged. Tonight our house is having a prom-themed party, so I asked her to bring the prom dress she wore to South prom with Patrick, North prom with Adrian, and last week's Alpha Gamma Delta formal with her boyfriend Nick Faidley.
Maybe I should wear this dress, come to think of it. Don't want to spoil a winning streak.
Tomorrow the BFF's rollin up, but this is a blog about today. Because of the first half of the last sentence, I'm in the library tryna get some work done so we can so party hearty (hardy?) we put Metaswag to shame. I left about an hour ago and before that I made some coffee. I feel weird about how much coffee I drink. I guess it's probably not that healthy. I was chillin by the co op coffee maker when our really wonderful Health Manager saw me and said, "You're drinking coffee at 7:30 at night? That's so intense!"
Yikes! Caught in the act by the health manager doing something kinda unhealthy! That's what you're probably thinking. But guess what? She continued with some cheery health info- turns out, drinking 3 cups a day can stave off dementia!
This is great news because I'm terrified of having dementia. Sweet!
Ok my 10 minute break is up. Back to the midterm. Back to the coffee.
The folks over at ProntoPup have suited us up with a new blogging challenge!
For the purposes of clarity for any readers who happen to have turned into Not My Mom this week, and for re-hashing an early summer argument with MetaSwag, I will note that a blogging challenge happens when my Midwestern Blogging Circle all attempts to blog everyday on a theme. As you can see from my comment on ProntoPup's initial post, I don't really get the theme yet. I think it's saying something that happened to you everyday until New Years. Some things to know about Midwestern Blogging Circle Challenges:
1. I am always the first one to lose it and stop posting.
That's it.
Well. It's only 11:02 am Pacific time! First post. Ok. A good thing that's already happened to me is that I got up early to accomplish my Weekly Wednesday Workshift, cleaning out the Personal Food Fridge. I like this job because I get to take all of the food out and lay it out on one of our dining room tables as though preparing a giant feast. People come through and say, "Personal fridge clean, Roz?". And I say things like, "Only way to start the day!" and "If the owner of this unlabeled rose doesn't remember it's back here by next week, I'm just drinking the thing!"
Since completing this task at 9:40, I haven't accomplished anything except cleaning myself. But, the new Drake album is great!
...Is that good, ProntoPup? That's the idea, right?
I am pretty sure that Bill Hader is the most attractive member of the SNL cast. I think he's so cute! I wish he would star in a Thanksgiving blockbuster opposite indie it-girl Chloe Sevigny in a rare comedic role!
But mostly, I wish it were Thanksgiving break today.
I can't stop thinking about this scene from "Cheers".
There was a period in my life during which I watched "Cheers" with some regularity. As a period, it was ten days long. My dad was out of town and my grandparents were sleeping in my great bed (shout out to my great bed) and so I was sleeping in my parent's room and my mom and I watched Camp Nick at Nite. Using context clues (such as the involvement of my great bed) I would date this event some time between my tenth and twelfth year. If pressed, I would say I was eleven. But I'm babbling because I'm nervous to start the actual post. The memory of this clip (you should watch it now) burst into my brain and has haunted me since!
It's not to hard to identify the problematic elements of this video. It's blatantly, brutally, triumphantly sexist. Most eleven year-olds would recognize this; I probably did. But as evidenced by its steadfast existence in the vaults of my brain, it still left quite an impression. I recognized in the sexual aesthetics of Sam and Diane's exchange some representation of my own desire, but which part? The overtaking of her lightness and whiteness and blondness? The punishment of feminine wit by masculine force? Or maybe the assurance that grown-up women could still be turned back into little girls: that my burgeoning adolescence would not commit me to make hard choices and learn hard things during the construction of my adult sexuality. That I would only have to wait to be desired, and then sex and love -but especially sex- would happen, in a way that had very little to do with my own desires at all.
I'm not trying to say that kids shouldn't watch "Cheers". That show is great. And even this memory is ultimately a fond one, because it reminds me of one of the hardest things I've learned During The Construction Of My Adult Sexuality (yeah, ya'll all right, that phrasing was clunky): the fact that every part of my identity has always been a negotiation between my brain, my body, and the rest of the world. I don't have total control and I don't have no control. The choices I make about sex aren't untouched by sexism and oppression, but they're still mine.
In summary, you can't rewrite "Cheers". But you can blog about it.
