Background music: "The 'Driving Through the Carpal Tunnel' Mix", so named because I made it for my physical therapist on the occasion of my returning to his care when my wrists went bad. Playlist as it changes throughout the post.
Song: "Together Forever" - Rick Astley
I am, for all intents and purposes, done with my thesis. It's something to which I've been looking forward for, hmmm, 8 years. So why do I feel so out of sorts and crappy today? I feel as if I've just lost the protection of something necessary, like when it's raining hard but you've been able to stay under awnings but then there's no more awning left. You've been wet all along, and grumpy, and you went out of your way and too slowly for your taste, but you weren't drenched. Now you're drenched and your clothes are sticky...
Song: "Norwegian Wood" - Trio Rococo
...and you realize that you'd liked that protection before.
Maybe that doesn't make sense to anyone else. I know that I spent a lot of time writing about how miserable I was to be still working on it, and how much I wanted to be done with it. But now that it's done, where am I? What am I? "I need to work on my thesis" was a convenient excuse against anything that I didn't want to do. No one's going to argue with that. Maybe this is why I've been, at first subconsciously but with increasing awareness, considering Who I Am and...
Song: "Go Insane" - Lindsey Buckingham
...What I Am. For instance, there's the job issue. What's really at stake, 5.5 more hours per week of work? Ha, it's not like I don't already do 5.5 hours of "free" work for the library each week anyway with the review journals that I read at home, the email that I answer in the evening, or the stuff that I deal with during lunch. The real conundrum is whether I want to self-identify as a librarian. Is that who I am? Is that what I am? It was a lot easier to give an unequivocal No when...
Song: "Desire" - U2
...I spent all my free time thinking about or working on something more important than my work - my education. So what if I never planned to use it for anything productive - it's theoretically more important, and no one argues with that. So I never felt like I had to explain it. But now, there's nothing behind which to hide. Am I, or am I not?
Does it really matter, for fuck's sake? I should just take the money and shut the hell up.
Ah, but that denies the rest of the question. If I don't take the job - and it's as simple as this - my best friend in the entire world, the person who I would literally do anything for, will have a job.
Song: "One in a Million" - the Romantics
My life was once very, very easy. I had casual friends with whom I shared very few entanglements. I was Work Friends with person #1, Bar Friends with person #2, Book Friends with person #3, and so on. Now that's totally changed and I'm upside down over it. This sense of responsibility doesn't mesh well with my inherent selfishness (see the post from last Friday - the Dante's Inferno Test - if you're unconvinced about my relative egocentricity).
How do I reconcile this? She needs a job. She wants this particular job. She'd do extremely well in this particular position, which is open-ended; there's a decent chance that it would expand very quickly into something for which she's been preparing recently. If she had the job, it would make my job so much easier, I can't fathom the change.
Problems: I need the money. Badly. I mean, $##,### badly. And I can't help but think that if I didn't take it, at some point, I'd be thinking, "Fuck, I needed that money." Regardless of the extremely good reason that I have for not taking it. And I can't help but think that, if I didn't take it, at some point she'd be thinking, "Stupid fuck needed the money and 'gave' me the job instead."
Song: "People are Strange" - The Doors
This is too much to think about. Must think of something else.
* Martha Stewart. Guilty on all counts. As far as I can tell, there is one class of person who thinks she got the shaft: educated women of my mom's age, who argue that she's being made an example of to the exception of the men who are let alone. Well, duh. Is this surprising to any females of my age...
Song: "Laid" - James
...and younger? It's a Man's World, people. History is about men - that's why there's Women's History. Fiction is about men - that's why there's Women's Fiction and Chick Lit. So blah blah, misogyny, yadda yadda. Does any of this explain away the fact that Martha Stewart engaged in criminal activity, was charged, and was subsequently found guilty? Nope. She's a felon, people. I don't care whether she's female, male or "other"; white, black or anything else; 20, 100, or someplace in between. I haven't been keeping up on the trial beyond the headlines, but I'm assuming there was an Intent element in at least some of her crimes; there usually is in felonies. She knew what she was doing was wrong, and she did it anyway. No sympathy just 'cause she's a chick - she gives women a bad name.
Song: "Hold Back the Rain" - Duran Duran
* Paper Products. The library has a contract with a paper product delivery service. They bring in those HUGE rolls of toilet paper (a foot wide?) and paper towels that pull down - they look like paper tornadoes - and the like. They don't bring the stuff nearly often enough, but that's probably our fault for not setting up the contract correctly. Anyway, when they deliver, the man taps on the door of the restrooms and calls out the name of the company before entering, so that if there's anyone inside they'll let him know he's in there. Only, what he's yelling out doesn't make any sense. "CINTAS!" Who the fuck knows what "Cintas" is? Him, yes. The library director, yes. Anyone else? Can I see a show of hands? Tell me, if you were in the restroom of a public library, doing your business, and someone tapped on the outside door (there are stalls with doors) and yelled "CINTAS!", would you know that it was someone delivering TP or paper toweling and you should call out that you were inside...
Song: "The Arms of Orion" - Prince
...so he wouldn't come in? Or would you think it was (a) someone saying a foreign word you didn't know, (b) a homeless person spouting gibberish, or (c) nothing you needed to bother yourself with? It slays me. "CINTAS."
* Lost in Translation. Saw it last weekend after egg rolling. I hadn't heard anything about it before seeing it - I didn't know who was in it beyond Bill Murray, what it was about except that it wasn't slapstick. Secret truth about me: I'm not a "movie person". I enjoy movies, but it never occurs to me to watch them unless someone else brings it up. I'd so much rather read or talk with someone. Not sure why, really, since my dad and I used to watch movies together all the time. There are stories there which I will share another time. Anyway, Lost in Translation. I enjoyed it. A lot. On a scale of 1-10, 10 being the highest, I'd say it was an 8 at least. Bill Murray is a great actor, and that's something I wouldn't have said before even though I've loved some of his movies (particularly Caddyshack, which I think is fucking genius. Maybe I'm a guy when I watch movies?). Giovanni Ribisi is...
Song: "How's It Going to Be" - Third Eye Blind
...discomforting. Is that a word? If not, perhaps "uncomfortable" would do, but it's not as precise as I'd like. He makes me uncomfortable. I don't think I could be in a room with him. Back to the movie - I don't have a fascination with Asia. Not at all. Does that make me anti-modern? It's the thang in History programs for women to be interested in Women's History and GLTB and Asian History. Anything "traditionally underrepresented". Well, fuck that. Another area of my life in which maybe I'm a guy. The more dead white guys who happened to be generals, talking about war, the better. So I wasn't immediately captured by the romance of Japan, which I think put me more inside the characters than was the case for others with whom I watched. Perhaps that was a benefit for me. The sensation of feeling lost.
I don't want to give too much away. I'll just generally, vaguely recommend it, and leave it at that. If anyone wants to discuss the finer points, email me.
Song: "Unbelievable" - EMF
This is an insanely long post. 11 songs so far. 6 more to go. I might as well keep going.
* BlogTricks is revealing hilarious things to me. The following two items appeared this morning:
** Yahoo! France - Resultats de recherche pour valera underwear men string
Valera underwear? BWA-ha-ha-ha-ha!
* I'm going to start doing book reviews on a regular basis of anything that I finish reading. If it becomes tedious,
Song: "Working for the Weekend" - Loverboy
I might create a separate blog for it. For now, though, I think I'm too busy to read enough that it'll matter. Right now I've got at least 3 books going that I can think of off the top of my head. The Language of Good-bye (Maribeth Fischer), Book Lust (Nancy Pearl) and a romance novel that will be reviewed as always on Romantic Nonsense. Hey, one benefit of being out from under the thumb of my thesis is having the intellectual freedom to read nonfiction again without confusing myself terribly. Ironically, the topic that's been interesting me the most lately is Wilhelm Canaris. You can pull the girl out of German history, but.... I also cataloged a fascinating-looking book the other day: Remarkable Reads, edited by J. Peder Zane. Here's a short review, copied from Amazon:
Song: "You're My Best Friend" - Queen
From Booklist
Curious about what writers read and how books have influenced them, Zane, book review editor for the Raleigh News & Observer, invited 34 writers to contribute essays launched by the request that they fill in the blank: "the most ______ book I ever read." Zane's challenge elicited truly eye-opening responses about the most memorable, enchanting, dangerous, daunting, exotic, devastating, smokin', and luminous books read by the likes of Bebe Moore Campbell (The Cat in the Hat, by Dr. Seuss), Charles Frazier (The Tarahumara, by Antonin Artaud), and Lee Smith (The Little Locksmith, by Katharine Butler Hathaway). Much of the pleasure of this exciting little volume is found in the surprising selections of the contributors and in the diverse sensibilities of the contributors themselves, a notable list that also includes Lydia Millet, whose essay on The War with the Newts by Karel Capek, is a knockout; nature writer Scott Weidensaul on Aldo Leopold's A Sand County Almanac; and Canadian novelist Elizabeth Hay on Pauline Kael. Fresh and thought-provoking, this anthology is pure catnip for book lovers. Donna Seaman
Copyright © ALA. All rights reserved
Song: "Joy to the World" - Three Dog Night
I'd like to try a smaller version of that on the blog sometime. I wonder if I can come up with an example for each of the adjectives the authors used? Maybe it can be a group project with someone else. I can think of one or two other people who might be interested. I could compile.
Song: "Drive" - The Cars (the gap between songs is small because I was adding links)
* Because Comcast was down yesterday, I didn't send a message to my committee saying that the thesis was on its way. I got a rather snippy message from my advisor this morning reminding me that the grad school's deadline is 15 March, so the sooner they get it and start reading, the better. I wrote back right away (well, his message was posted at 9-something and I got up at 11-something, so it was as right-away as could be), to the entire committee. I explained that I hadn't included a cover letter when I mailed the document because they already have enough to read (ha ha - what a lame attempt at humor). I told them how it's being shipped and when it'll be there. I thanked them for the opportunity to make the revisions (gag) and thanked them again for being on the committee (gag). I said that I look forward to hearing from them when they've read this version. Advisor wrote back right away and - get this - thanked me for the message, saying that they're all looking forward to getting it. Then he ruined whatever good feeling he'd created by saying, "And I'm sure it's much better after significant revision."
Song: "The Weakness in Me" - Joan Armatrading
Lousy bastard. If he'd been enough of an advisor to keep me apprised of its crappiness all along, we'd have not been left to this mess. Ah, well. Must remain calm about it. It's literally in their hands now.
* I didn't go to work today, and I didn't get a massage. To be honest, I haven't done much of anything. Slept 'til 11:15 or so. Woke up with a stiff neck and my legs trapped under the weight of two cats. H was under all the blankets but on top of the flat sheet, and P was on top of the whole thing, on my feet. Ate breakfast (Frosted Mini Wheats - surely the best food ever). Made a CD mix of...
Song: "When I Fall in Love" - Rick Astley
...George Michael songs for T. Wrote some long-overdue email. Had a weird lunch (pasta with butter and Adobo with Blackberry Sage tea). RSVP'd for a reception at the law school, in the negative. Why would anyone waste a Sunday afternoon munching stale crackers and rubbery cheese and drinking box wine with stodgy, assholish law profs and former so-called friends? Borrrr-ring! Then I sat down to write a quick blog post. This is insanely long. I had no idea how long this CD was when I started! At least I remembered to turn on my paraffin wax this morning. My hands are dry from processing, and waxing them helps a lot. It feels wonderful, too. The wax takes forever to melt, though, because I have the monstrously large machine.
Time to fold clean laundry and contemplate dinner.
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