Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Bored
I am unnaturally excited at having successfully changed the toner on my work printer. It's an illness that can only be cured with a coffee break.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Why I love academia
While discussing Michel Foucault's "The History of Sexuality" and the idea that incitement to discourse proliferated different sexualities within zones of tolerance, my Prof commented on how the loss of sexual vocabulary did not stunt discourse within the Catholic pastoral. Complicated, huh. Well then he comes out with this gem - an example of discourse in the Catholic confessional:
"He put his hoohoo in my down there, but I had female troubles and he thought that it was gross, so he put his peepee in my where the sun don't shine."
"He put his hoohoo in my down there, but I had female troubles and he thought that it was gross, so he put his peepee in my where the sun don't shine."
Monday, April 28, 2008
Bi-Coastal Curious and words I don't get
**edited with transitions, happy now Flo. fucking grammar nazi.
I spent four hours in the car this weekend staring out the window and attempting to sort out all of the crap in my mind. Not much progress with the important stuff but one thing that came up after so much immobile staring was the concept of borders. Bi-coastal curious is definitely appropriate as the title of this blog or at least this post because as Google tells me it is the concept of land borders as unnatural. This post is not going to be a pros and cons list of capitalist society and how the destruction of private property will cure all ills (although this topic is particularly relevant to current cases of Aboriginal property in Canada, since they have different definitions of property than does the Canadian government) but instead I will try to explain why there are certain words that I might intellectually comprehend but will never truly understand.
Border is one such word or rather the concept of borders. I very well understand that practically the entire world is divided up and prettily color coordinated on my atlas, and that this is intrinsically linked with the world economy, war, and nation building. However, looking at a rock in the middle of the forest, my mind cant seem to understand what this means. This rock will last beyond the existence of this border and even this country - this rock does not and cannot belong to anyone. If I took it and placed it across its border will anything change? Of course not, because the property owner does not own the rock, but rather the idea of the rock or the manipulation of the rock into a consumable resource. Other than that, it stands on its own.
Whenever I think of the idea of borders, I am always reminded of my first failed attempts to understand Rousseau's Social Contract, and what I initially thought were crazy ideas about humanity, nature, and property. Rousseau wrote that there was a divide between society and true human nature. That man/woman was a "noble savage" (originally not Rousseau's concept) in the wild and that society extricated her from that natural and rightful place. I think that I initially reacted negatively because it seemed like Rousseau was arguing for a mass exodus back to the forests and a renunciation of all technology - a Luddite concept if I ever saw one. However, when I read his ideas on property I understood that he was defining characteristics for two very different societies rather than extolling ones virtues over another and expecting people to start packing their bags for the nearest frontier. Private property was the essence of political society and thus a necessary evil, which did not necessarily fit in on the map of his concepts of Man and Nature. I think that I am now a little closer to understanding what Rousseau was talking about and why borders are so hard for me to comprehend. Rousseau saw borders as a necessity for a political society but he understood that as a concept they were intangible - an idea rather than a physical reality. When I am pondering the nature of borders I tend to be outside, much closer to Rousseau's ideal natural society rather than our current political one. In this frame of mind, borders seem inconsequential and very very far away. Oh well, at least I understand the Social Contract now.
On yet another note, it also seems that the creation of geographic borders can be likened to America's habit of placing things into definitional categories and basically essentializing them. The creation of a norm creates a basis on which people within society can function. Things that fall outside of the norm are usually marginalized and expunged from the mainstream. While this is in no way a complete analysis of my problems with understanding "border making" I do see it largely as an externalization of America's obsession with categorizing things into good/bad, mine/yours, war/peace etc.
Following from my misapprehension of the word "border", I also have a shaky understanding of the word "patriotism", which is so dependent on borders. People who have attempted to explain patriotism to me usually use phrases such as "pride in ones culture/country/traditions/pick your poison." However, patriotism doesn't really work without the dichotomies "us/them" or "here/there." If there were no other culture/country/tradition, it would be pointless to be patriotic. Patriotism seems to be a transmogrified form of the word border - a change from practical to emotional.
That's it for now, but don't even get me started on financial terms. No matter how many times Wendy explains it to me, buying and selling debt just makes no sense.
I spent four hours in the car this weekend staring out the window and attempting to sort out all of the crap in my mind. Not much progress with the important stuff but one thing that came up after so much immobile staring was the concept of borders. Bi-coastal curious is definitely appropriate as the title of this blog or at least this post because as Google tells me it is the concept of land borders as unnatural. This post is not going to be a pros and cons list of capitalist society and how the destruction of private property will cure all ills (although this topic is particularly relevant to current cases of Aboriginal property in Canada, since they have different definitions of property than does the Canadian government) but instead I will try to explain why there are certain words that I might intellectually comprehend but will never truly understand.
Border is one such word or rather the concept of borders. I very well understand that practically the entire world is divided up and prettily color coordinated on my atlas, and that this is intrinsically linked with the world economy, war, and nation building. However, looking at a rock in the middle of the forest, my mind cant seem to understand what this means. This rock will last beyond the existence of this border and even this country - this rock does not and cannot belong to anyone. If I took it and placed it across its border will anything change? Of course not, because the property owner does not own the rock, but rather the idea of the rock or the manipulation of the rock into a consumable resource. Other than that, it stands on its own.
Whenever I think of the idea of borders, I am always reminded of my first failed attempts to understand Rousseau's Social Contract, and what I initially thought were crazy ideas about humanity, nature, and property. Rousseau wrote that there was a divide between society and true human nature. That man/woman was a "noble savage" (originally not Rousseau's concept) in the wild and that society extricated her from that natural and rightful place. I think that I initially reacted negatively because it seemed like Rousseau was arguing for a mass exodus back to the forests and a renunciation of all technology - a Luddite concept if I ever saw one. However, when I read his ideas on property I understood that he was defining characteristics for two very different societies rather than extolling ones virtues over another and expecting people to start packing their bags for the nearest frontier. Private property was the essence of political society and thus a necessary evil, which did not necessarily fit in on the map of his concepts of Man and Nature. I think that I am now a little closer to understanding what Rousseau was talking about and why borders are so hard for me to comprehend. Rousseau saw borders as a necessity for a political society but he understood that as a concept they were intangible - an idea rather than a physical reality. When I am pondering the nature of borders I tend to be outside, much closer to Rousseau's ideal natural society rather than our current political one. In this frame of mind, borders seem inconsequential and very very far away. Oh well, at least I understand the Social Contract now.
On yet another note, it also seems that the creation of geographic borders can be likened to America's habit of placing things into definitional categories and basically essentializing them. The creation of a norm creates a basis on which people within society can function. Things that fall outside of the norm are usually marginalized and expunged from the mainstream. While this is in no way a complete analysis of my problems with understanding "border making" I do see it largely as an externalization of America's obsession with categorizing things into good/bad, mine/yours, war/peace etc.
Following from my misapprehension of the word "border", I also have a shaky understanding of the word "patriotism", which is so dependent on borders. People who have attempted to explain patriotism to me usually use phrases such as "pride in ones culture/country/traditions/pick your poison." However, patriotism doesn't really work without the dichotomies "us/them" or "here/there." If there were no other culture/country/tradition, it would be pointless to be patriotic. Patriotism seems to be a transmogrified form of the word border - a change from practical to emotional.
That's it for now, but don't even get me started on financial terms. No matter how many times Wendy explains it to me, buying and selling debt just makes no sense.
Hard-shelled Sea Creature
I can’t believe we’re blogging, girls – oh, how we’ve moved up in the world. I’m glad we’ve decided to do this. I imagine law school will have me drowning in legalese and memorization, and this will be a great way to keep a grip on the external world. If only by thinking of things to write about. I recommend that over the summer we read epistolary (GRE word) novels. Daddy-Long-Legs, Ella Minnow Pea… I know there are other more famous ones but these are the ones coming to my mind. Anyway, that way we can see what it was like when people communicated over distance only via the written word.
I have one month left in New York, and I spent 13 hours cleaning and packing yesterday. (Half of that was helping Sharon move, but is still thematic.) Right now it’s raining, and last night I watched a depressing French film. Never let it be said I let these occasions happen without style.
I cannot believe how much crap I’ve accumulated. Well, I can believe it. I’ve always felt like one of those hard-shelled sea creatures that carries their home on their back. My crap was my home, but now I am eliminating as much as possible and heading out west. Also I am leaving you. But let’s not think about that part, and instead focus on the crap.
So far, I’ve gotten rid of 10 pounds of clothes, 6 pairs of shoes, and one recycling bag full of paper. I haven’t even started on my books or tchotchkes or old schoolwork. I find myself facing questions of what is worth saving, kind of like Sophie’s Choice. Except it’s Berkeley and boxes of paper instead of the Holocaust and my child. Should I keep the old iMac from college? I keep on thinking I’ll recover some lost files, but that bitch is 10 pounds, at least. And can one of you tell me why I find it necessary to save every assignment I’ve ever had? Surely 10 years from now I won’t care about the grade I got on an Italian 201 quiz.
I am leaving June 7. This coming weekend is my last free weekend in New York. I’ve been pondering this fact all week, and: fuck. FUCK! I am on the verge of flipping out and will likely remain so until I’ve been in Berkeley for a year. However, I am so aware of how close I am to flipping out that actually flipping out will seem hopelessly meta. Also, every time I feel like crying I realize that I have no one to blame but myself. Surprisingly, that works quite well at keeping the tears at bay.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Newly-minted NRA member?
In response to Wendy's post on working on a Saturday I've decided to regale you all with the story of my own lovely weekend... not because I want to rub it in your face but because I want to shower you with a little sunshine and goodness :)
This weekend my parents and I went to visit friends of ours who have a house 2.5 hours north of New York City smack dab in the middle of nowhere. They have a son about my age who I've known for most of my life, so I decided to go - instead of staying at home and watching youtube videos. Anyway we arrived at their place at around noon and it was a beautiful day so my friend decided to show me around the huge property on which their house is built. We first walked down to this little creek that runs along the entire perimeter of the land and sat down on some rocks. Sitting there by the little creek with nothing but trees and birds and my bare feet skimming along the water - I realized that summer had officially begun. On the one hand this sorta sucks since I now have even less time to finish my thesis paper, but its also nice since summer in NY means plenty of camping, hiking, and kayaking.
Anyway my friend and I spent the entire day biking and hiking around the woods and saw all sorts of lovely things that sound cheesy when written down - the trickling of the hidden waterfall lying behind a copse of trees, the frolicking of deer, rabbits, groundhogs, and raccoons. At one point my friend took me to this beautiful lake and showed me how to fish. Surprisingly it wasn't boring at all, although I kept expecting the boxcar children to show up or maybe even Lassie. Since I didn't catch anything I don't think that I was much good though something tells me that thats not the point. The entire time I kept asking my friend "what he gets from fishing", I guess I wanted to hear an answer soliloquizing on the merits of solitude and the beauty of nature but he said something along the lines of "It's exciting when you catch something." Sigh
At one point we were walking along an edge of property that bordered along theirs and he pointed out a teeny tiny house whose owners hadn't been home for a while. This time however, the door of the house as far as we could see was open. At this point all of the fresh air had damaged my brain and I suggested that we go explore this house only slightly bigger than a garden shed. When we reached the door and peeked in we realized almost at once that the house must have been deserted for a long time. The entire thing had only two small rooms, a bedroom and a kitchen with a door separating the two. There was a musty smell characteristic of a thrift store or an indoor garage sale. There were shabby dolls lying on the old wooden bunk beds and a decade old box of Scrabble that we had to look at up close to recognize. Interestingly, the one thing that didn't look ancient was a picture posted on the refrigerator that was obviously drawn by a small child. It was a picture drawn for Mother's Day and had all of the requisite smiling stick figures and red balloons. The picture was dated 1992, yet it had not even started to yellow and the colors were crystal clear. All in all it was an interesting little anachronism which made the house that much more spooky. We found two swiss army knives, a box of UNO cards, and some jacks - and since no one else was gonna miss them decided to take them with us. :)
So that was my weekend, however before I finish, I want to explain the title of this post. I leave it for last because I am ashamed and my liberal guilt is acting up. A weekend of hiking, biking, fishing, and trespassing is not complete without....shooting. That's right, my friend has a nice little collection of rifles, pistols, and air guns that he loves to play with and I spent a few hours shooting at targets in the backyard. By targets I mean cans and bottles - I draw the line at hunting for sport. I wonder if this means that my membership within the Democratic Party will be revoked and I'll have Dick Cheney knocking at my door asking for hunting advice? Hmm, well I'll deal with that when the time comes.
This weekend my parents and I went to visit friends of ours who have a house 2.5 hours north of New York City smack dab in the middle of nowhere. They have a son about my age who I've known for most of my life, so I decided to go - instead of staying at home and watching youtube videos. Anyway we arrived at their place at around noon and it was a beautiful day so my friend decided to show me around the huge property on which their house is built. We first walked down to this little creek that runs along the entire perimeter of the land and sat down on some rocks. Sitting there by the little creek with nothing but trees and birds and my bare feet skimming along the water - I realized that summer had officially begun. On the one hand this sorta sucks since I now have even less time to finish my thesis paper, but its also nice since summer in NY means plenty of camping, hiking, and kayaking.
Anyway my friend and I spent the entire day biking and hiking around the woods and saw all sorts of lovely things that sound cheesy when written down - the trickling of the hidden waterfall lying behind a copse of trees, the frolicking of deer, rabbits, groundhogs, and raccoons. At one point my friend took me to this beautiful lake and showed me how to fish. Surprisingly it wasn't boring at all, although I kept expecting the boxcar children to show up or maybe even Lassie. Since I didn't catch anything I don't think that I was much good though something tells me that thats not the point. The entire time I kept asking my friend "what he gets from fishing", I guess I wanted to hear an answer soliloquizing on the merits of solitude and the beauty of nature but he said something along the lines of "It's exciting when you catch something." Sigh
At one point we were walking along an edge of property that bordered along theirs and he pointed out a teeny tiny house whose owners hadn't been home for a while. This time however, the door of the house as far as we could see was open. At this point all of the fresh air had damaged my brain and I suggested that we go explore this house only slightly bigger than a garden shed. When we reached the door and peeked in we realized almost at once that the house must have been deserted for a long time. The entire thing had only two small rooms, a bedroom and a kitchen with a door separating the two. There was a musty smell characteristic of a thrift store or an indoor garage sale. There were shabby dolls lying on the old wooden bunk beds and a decade old box of Scrabble that we had to look at up close to recognize. Interestingly, the one thing that didn't look ancient was a picture posted on the refrigerator that was obviously drawn by a small child. It was a picture drawn for Mother's Day and had all of the requisite smiling stick figures and red balloons. The picture was dated 1992, yet it had not even started to yellow and the colors were crystal clear. All in all it was an interesting little anachronism which made the house that much more spooky. We found two swiss army knives, a box of UNO cards, and some jacks - and since no one else was gonna miss them decided to take them with us. :)
So that was my weekend, however before I finish, I want to explain the title of this post. I leave it for last because I am ashamed and my liberal guilt is acting up. A weekend of hiking, biking, fishing, and trespassing is not complete without....shooting. That's right, my friend has a nice little collection of rifles, pistols, and air guns that he loves to play with and I spent a few hours shooting at targets in the backyard. By targets I mean cans and bottles - I draw the line at hunting for sport. I wonder if this means that my membership within the Democratic Party will be revoked and I'll have Dick Cheney knocking at my door asking for hunting advice? Hmm, well I'll deal with that when the time comes.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Guess where I am??
It's 3:30 pm - do you know where your children are? You may not know where your good-for-nothing lazy ass kids are, but Wendy is at work.
On a Saturday. Again.
So I am working again and the day is really really quiet. Trading is closed on the weekend so all I do is deal with retarded clients who are pissed off about this, that, and the fact that they haven't made 6 million % on their initial investment yet. I am working with two other guys and I hope they don't notice that I haven't done anything for the last twenty minutes. I keep throwing furtive glances making sure they don't notice I am slacking. I look really busy now though, since I am rapidly typing into my keyboard. I should jump up, throw my hands in the air and bitch about the USD reaching all time highs - then no one will know I am really blogging, watching youtube, and reading people.com.
For now, we're all still in the same damn city- but I feel like I never see anyone. I suppose it won't be much different when our lawyer-to-be hauls her cute little tush across the country.
ugh- 4 more hours and 2 minutes. Phone is ringing again. Yes we guarantee 100% returns. Of course. Bear Sterns? Never heard of them.
On a Saturday. Again.
So I am working again and the day is really really quiet. Trading is closed on the weekend so all I do is deal with retarded clients who are pissed off about this, that, and the fact that they haven't made 6 million % on their initial investment yet. I am working with two other guys and I hope they don't notice that I haven't done anything for the last twenty minutes. I keep throwing furtive glances making sure they don't notice I am slacking. I look really busy now though, since I am rapidly typing into my keyboard. I should jump up, throw my hands in the air and bitch about the USD reaching all time highs - then no one will know I am really blogging, watching youtube, and reading people.com.
For now, we're all still in the same damn city- but I feel like I never see anyone. I suppose it won't be much different when our lawyer-to-be hauls her cute little tush across the country.
ugh- 4 more hours and 2 minutes. Phone is ringing again. Yes we guarantee 100% returns. Of course. Bear Sterns? Never heard of them.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Our Very First Post
If it wasn't clear, this is our very first entry, but more importantly it's the first attempt at three women keeping in touch across an entire continent. Although we are still all together in NY, in only a few months we will be spread out across a distance of almost 3000 miles. Instead of attempting a guess at how the next year will play out, I'd much rather focus on visits to the west coast, lovely tans, and those hemp bracelets that they most definitely sell in Berkeley. But I know that if this blog is going to work, we're going to have to stick with reality and not pretend that its going to be all vacations and road trips. It's pretty difficult to imagine that for the first time in 7 or 8 years we will not be close by - which is why the crucial necessity of writing and calling (dare we even imagine the phone bills) has not really sunk in yet. We all have such radically different lives - and finding time to write about your day when dealing with crashes in the market, 1st years of law school and finishing thesis papers on ....what the hell am I writing it on again?...is not going to be easy..However, one thing keeps me optimistic - remembering our outstanding capacity for procrastination, well except for Wendy :) the market sleeps for no man.. or woman! Even if its only a quick breakdown they'll be enough. Of course I won't say no to passionate political rants but that's just me. Anyway this entry is a welcome sign to both of you to start posting about your lives, loves, and bitchy bosses. So have at it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)