the wild side

doot di doot di doot doot di doot doot...

You're Lou Reed.God, you are cool, can I touch you so the magic
will rub off?You are perceptive, witty, and badass. You wear
cool shades, even at night, and probably wear
black more than most people. You don't give a
fuck what other people think, but you are also
very sensitive in the way that you pick up on
things that others don't. Sometimes you come
off as an asshole, but that's what makes you
cool. You are a poet, and you embody New York
City. You will still be hip when you are old,
and artists love you.

Yes, for some time now I have been known to wear black -- and lots of it. I went through the black uniform phase in high school, and still adore black; but "badass" huh? hm...wishful thought. Maybe I should listen more to Lou -- I need to develop a backbone these days.

Which rad old school 70's glam icon are you? (with pics)
brought to you by

more distractions

A year ago I did this test and was "Theory Slut" but now...


You are a Gender Nazi. Your boundary-crossing
lifestyle inspires awe in your friends and
colleagues. Or maybe they're just scared you
will kick their asses for using gender-specific
language. Either way, the wife-beater helps.

What kind of postmodernist are you!?
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How is it done?

So this is probably a post that will continue to haunt me for the assumed years I will be a student. How does one balance classes with an already full load of readings, plus read extra research-related material and still maintain life -- all the obligatory domestic chores ? So okay, get over myself, right? I'm not teaching classes nor am I even working part-time -- but STILL!

Paper due tomorrow -- why has it become increasingly difficult to produce a mere 3 pages? Have I internalized "performance anxiety"?

I was in a major slump three weeks ago, what, with commenting on just selected texts as apposed to all the required texts; so the days that followed were mixed with anxiety and disappointment -- mental agonies I had not experienced in a specific way -- and yet miraculously, the paper turned out to be "better than expected" -- that is, received some uplifting comments from Freudian Prof. So what the fuck just happened? Needless to say, my spirits are high and I think I can really rock final papers -- if only i can manage time more effectively. hmm...

We "Other Graduate Students"

Maybe it is a cop-out, an inexcusable excuse to say that we never have time to do the things we love to do or should do; but why does my sense of motivation and enthusiasm hinge on the lack of time? Is it just a universal excuse to buffer ourselves from guilt?

Every week in theory class we post our reading comments and questions online, you know, to critically engage in the texts and create a dialogue amongst other students by attempting to work out the theories together, as a collaborative effort. Each week interesting/problematic questions are posed, which enlighten and challege us to percieve a range of possible interpretations -- sometimes disoveries , even "new" problems are fleshed out of the ideas and questions that confront us, which in lots of ways is exhilarating, if not just self-inflicting pain. As the weeks pass by, however, the follow-up posts continue to decline, perhaps symptomatic of post-midterm syndrome. Of course, that's not to suggest that a lack of engagement in the works has ensued, though at times posting questions has become a drudgery of sorts for some, as well as a risk of self-exposure. Perhaps I, too, feel that posting questions has become more and more like a chore -- that is, we just want to get through our classes, do our deed, and continue with our lives, whatever that might be.

So there is sadness at the thought of the myriad of unanswered questions floating around, if only until another work strikes us, a moment that will boost our intellectual groove of curiosity.

unproductivity

Lately I have been daydreaming about decorating -- my room, the restroom -- and rearranging furniture, as well as fantasizing about picking awesome retro wine glasses, colorful vintage-looking plates, curtains. Is Anthropolgie the coolest ever? The days seem to go by too quickly for me to really enjoy anything for long -- wonder when my life will begin -- but what does that mean, exactly? When I will cease to worry? When I can have guilt-free play? That's probably what I meant, but it also probably means when I retire, which clearly is too far into the future.

I tried watching Jarmusch's Stanger in Paradise around 8 pm but my mind was too scattered that I felt I should be doing some life maintance -- uh, like organizing the cupboard and the clothes in the closet? Smart Move. What is wrong with me?

typical distractions this weekend:

• Watched Batman and Capote -- both were excellent, respectively.
• Hit a Bar with nasty unfinished beer, then margaritas and burrito
• 3 loads of laundry!
• A take-out chinese food with a failed reading group -- we had so much fun talking.
• a four excursion to downtown!

yo-yo days

Okay, so now I really do feel like a mess (again). More often than not, I find myself wondering when I will no longer feel bewildered, disorganized, flustered, passive -- terrified? It is times like this when I have to ask myself, what the hell am I really doing? Or, I might rephrase that and ask, why am I am pursuing graduate studies? Why is it that I constantly have to remind myself what i am really doing in grad school? Is it because it's so easy to throw it all away? Is it so easy to lose one's way so quickly -- I mean, I was excited but now I am increasingly feel like maybe I don't want to write and teach and publish. I know it is too soon to tell whether I will learn to enjoy all of the things that a life in academia entails, but maybe I am just not the into this. Now I almost said I'm not the "type" -- meaning, I'm not grad school material, not serious enough; but maybe that is a stupid thing to say? There is no type, right? One just needs to be committed, I think. I wonder when I will be able to just live my life, or whether I will ever feel "settled" as in comfort and security, perhaps. Maybe nobody ever feels settled.

I once emailed a grad student at my ideal grad school, who said that all I need is to be a self-motivator and a self-starter. Okay, so I have to just keep that in mind, because I know anything, however small, can throw me off balance. I don't even feel like I have a sense of balance anymore. And without fail, what do I do but fret and go completely bonkers. I know I will go through many rough patches, and I just need to be conscious of my patterns to cope with negativity.

I guess what brought on despairing thoughts was the conference workshop tonight. I tried imagining myself present a paper and being evaluated by academics. I understand that everything is a gradual process, and that I have to build my confidence (and knowledge) before going to a big conference, or even a conference made up of graduate students. But I think the very idea of giving talks just shattered me to pieces, bc it is part of professional life -- identity.

How could 3 months of grad school make me doubt myself already? Is self-doubt all too common? I guess I just worry because I doubt myself frequently these days. Boy, do I feel like a yo yo. Please, let tomorrow be a brighter day.

Why oh why

Why must life be filled with many, many deadlines? And why is it that my answer is most often the lack of time to do the things I need and want to do? Or why is it when I am pressed for time, particulary on a deadline for a paper, I start a manic organizing and cleaning the room? Maybe to de-clutter my head? Just a habit of procrasitination, right? Right.

Today's task is must read several criticisms on Frankenstein for a couple of hours before Theory class; After theory 1 class, attend a conference workshop at 7:30 pm; then walk home, make dinner and try to finish the readings for Thurs. I am feeling guilty for spending more time on theory courses than my lit class -- we are watching a film for that class, which is why I feel rather slack; what I ought to do is begin the Henry James novel for the next week so that I won't fall behind, as usually the case!

I always seem to be scrambling -- and why do I beat myself over the head when I quite obviously choose to make plans this weekend and watch Capote and Batman? Silly, silly whiner. So okay, I absolutely need to get some work done before I reward myself with these films.

Diss in 15 says if I write everyday for 10 min and increase time gradually, I will establish my "writing addiction" -- of course, whiny rants do not count. BUT, once preliminary research plans start rolling around, uh, like next week, I will start spilling a bit more on possible topics.

current music addiction: Ladytron's Witching Hour.

crazy...

So I got the nerve to discuss my paper with my Thursday Prof. I was totally flustered and tongue-tied, mostly because I value her criticism of my work. Sadly, I might have appeared or behaved like a neurotic student. Ugh. But after getting some one-on-one feedback on my issues with articulating x, y, and z, I felt an immediate sigh of relief. She ended by saying (and I'm paraphrasing here), "it's the perceptive ones who have trouble writing because they see complex problems in the text" -- okay, so it was something to that effect. A positive advice, I take it; so I walked home feeling somewhat inspired to think about my paper more critically.

I wonder: does this mean I am writing a paper to impress her? Or am I creating my own and thus asking her to understand me? Not sure I can really tell, and I doubt I am altogether conscious of these questions during the writing process. Hmm...

At any rate, it is interesting to think of the kind of intellectual growth that can come out of a teacher/student mentorship. I'm going to try to see more of my profs during office hours to get a sense of who I can work with and ask to read my thesis next year. Mantra: "It's not so bad."

Why do I feel like listening to Patsy Cline's "Crazy" ?

infrequently

I raise the blinds and open the window beside my bed. This is the first thing I do every morning so that I can people-gaze for a few minutes before starting my day. It is remarkably bright and lovely out. It's a shame that I need to prepare for my class because I can lie in bed, drink coffee and read.

I have been, what, blogging once a week? I had a breakdown last week during midterms: I obsessed about my paper which basically ate such a large chunk of time that I couldn't think outside of it. I don't recall going through too many rough patches as an undergraduate; in fact, I used to be able to pull an all-nighter. Alas, it has been 3 years since I graduated -- I no longer have the energy to stay up and write. So I am trying to be mindful of my constructive (and destructive) writing habits and see if I can forge new ones as I continue to learn more about this academic self, whatever that really means.

I am reading Writing Your dissertation in Fifteen Minutes a Day; of course, I am not in a Ph.D program, but it helps to develop personal stategies that work best for me -- e.g., writing during the day, which I think is better for me. Though I've always believed that I'm a night person -- so I have quite a bit to discover. The first step is, well, sitting down to write for 15 min abou anything really -- questions and speculations about research materials or just life in general. So we'll see if I can write at least every other day if not every day.