Not to beat the topic into the ground, but here's my deal with the "digits."

Do real people actually do this? I mean, I've talked to him on two different occasions, both of which took place at a Renaissance festival, with both of us in costume. Now, I'm no expert on either drama or human interaction (er... except that I've spent most of my adult life studying drama or human interaction), but it seems like this is not the most genuine of beginnings. I was certainly surprised and terribly flattered that he remembered me after a whole month. Also, there was the whole massive hand kissing, declaring me "yummy," and hugging me every time I walked by bit. Highly cute. But how much of this was in "character," an act for the sake of the situation?

I mean, it's not like this is an everyday interaction for me:
Me: do you have a name that I can call you?
Him: you can call me anything you like.
Me: but can I call you any TIME I like?
Him: of course.

This is not everyday life for me. Is it really normal for me to be considering actually dialing that number, rather than laughing it off as an ego trip the same way I do when Ryan and I go to bars looking for digits? I know all my girls have jumped on the "you have to call him" bandwagon, but I'm not so sure about that. It just feels entirely fake, and completely unfamiliar.

You know, every time I even consider "playing the game" I begin to see the potential benefits of living to a ripe old age with only cats for company.

I am the shit.

Spent the day at ren fest again, this time with Esther. Saw the cute distributor of ice water again, only he was no longer distributing water. He thankfully now has a name to uncomplicate the "no-longer-distributing water distributor" title. He also has a phone number to go with it. He also has my phone number. That's right, I both got and gave digits at fest. Have not yet decided if this is an accomplishment, or something that's just too easy.

Again, I am the shit.

So, I'm either a lightweight, or a very ill person who hasn't been able to eat all week. I had the requisite two 12 ounce servings of fishbowl last night, along with some chips and dip and a s'more which, in retrospect, were the only food I had consumed all day. My IM description of events to Denny:

Me: I think I threw up, but can't remember, as at one point, which is strangely long after I got done drinking, the night just became... Incomprehensible
Denny: how so?
Me: I remember the world turning weird, walking away for a while but having no idea how long, going back to where my friends were and I think laying on someone (which should be mortifying, but as I'm not sure it happened, I'll just assumed that I fell asleep and dreamed it), and, then I wasn't able to get back to my house under my own steam, so someone had to help me, only I didn't want help so I almost fell down, and I ended up sleeping on my kitchen floor.
Denny: good lord. That's one wacky game show. [this is now my favorite phrase ever]

Yes, the best night of sleep I've had all week took place on my kitchen floor. If any of you who were there want to fill in the details for the amusement of those who weren't, feel free. I supposed I should ask if I did anything embarrassing, but there were no single guys there to attempt to take advantage of, so my usual venue for making an ass of myself was mercifully unavailable.

Now, I shall go eat. Because really, nothing says "you need to eat more" like a night spent on your kitchen floor after only two drinks.

So, I'm having cohort bonding night at my house tonight. We're having a bonfire in my backyard. This requires the digging of a fire pit, which my mother decided had to happen last night, in the dark, after I got home.

Me: Can't I just do it when I get home tomorrow... it'll be light then.
Mom: I won't be around to help you... what if you don't get it done?
Me: But it'll be light then...
Mom: Oh, let's just do it tonight... it won't take very long.
Me: Fine...

Sure enough, it didn't take very long. After a half hour, we had the hole dug, the roots clipped from it, and I was back inside trying to make a quick post about the insanity of my mother before going to bed. Only, I couldn't get a dial tone. No big, as our lines have gone out before, thanks to backyard critters. I tell mom to check her line. It, too, is out. Suddenly, we recall that one of the "roots" in the fire pit was rather hard to clip. But phone lines are strung from poles, right? I walk back out to the pit, sure that we're being paranoid. There, on top of the mound of dirt, still looking like a damn root, is a six inch section of telephone cable.

Not only is our telephone cable not strung from a pole, it is buried less than a foot deep in our back yard. It also looks like a root, at least by flashlight. My mother called the uncle to see if he had any knowledge of how much this would cost to fix (I have a cell phone -- she didn't use ESP to call him). But we are laughing so hard that the first question out of his mouth, upon hearing her tale is, "have you two been drinking?" Sadly, the entire episode took place with nary a drop imbibed. Although afterward, we did each have half a glass of wine, so that we might be able to retroactively explain our idiocy: "we were drinking last night."

May I just remind everyone that I was the one who said, "can't I do this tomorrow, when it's light out?" Now I have to dig a new pit today, anyway.

My soul is worth �14436. That's roughly $9500. I wonder if I can trade up instead?

Trina has joined us in the blog world. Her first post is on hobbies, and I replied in a ranting email that I realized I should probably be posting it here rather than subjecting her to my emailed blather. So, in the tradition of the indecisive everywhere, I decided to do both:

My email to Trina:
Good for you!!!

Can be very therapeutic, I find.

Re: hobbies -- a few of mine, in case they spark inspiration: sewing, crochet, kayaking, various online communities, blogging(!), photography, occasional recreational writing, reading (I'll read anything, especially when I need a break from the reading I'm supposed to be doing -- it's refreshing, like a mental morning shower), travel, theater, tap... hundreds that I'm constantly forgetting, until I get an inspiration and pick them up again. I go in spurts with them, and sometimes don't get around to them for months at a time. I think part of the importance of hobbies for me is knowing that I could be doing them, that they're part of who I am. By extension, much of the time, this goes hand in hand with remembering that I am not solely a student, a scholar, a sociologist, all of which can be weighty and confining titles at times.

One of the scariest moments of my first year came when I was met with disapproval when I suggested that there are times in my life that I do not want to talk or think about sociology. Thankfully, most sane people in the department have not echoed this sentiment. I can't imagine handling one defining, master identity for the rest of my life. I know that, in American culture, the tendency is to identify people by their careers, but as I tend to retire at some point, I'd like to have a number of "things I do" in my bag of tricks -- variety is the spice of life, right?

So, this seems to have turned into a rant, which I should probably post on my own blog -- and probably will, with a link to yours. I'm glad you're blogging -- I think it's a great way to keep in touch with yourself and others.

Dave Barry pointed this one out : Buy.com - Storage CD jewel case - black (pack of 25 ). That's right, folks. For $999,999.99, you too can have 25 jewel cases that will crack, splinger, and slide off your shelf and get stepped on. WTF?

Man arrested after simulating sex with rock

There's just not much more to say.

Relationship Advice and the Official Site of Dr. John Gray

The nightmare from hell. Also known as the site that made me rejoice in being relationship-free for five years and counting.

Jon, what was your prof's quote about Mars/Venus stuff? Something about, "If men are from Mars and women are from Venus, then gay folks are the ones who've got it right"?

Meyers Briggs Test Results

INFP - "Questor". High capacity for caring. Calm and pleasant face to the world. High sense of honor derived from internal values. 1% of the total population.

Take Free Myers-Briggs Personality Test

Hmmm... I'm usually INTP... I must have stopped thinking somewhere along the way....

Rubbish. It's like a human resources horoscope. Yuck.

Ugh. Can't breathe. The creeping crud that made my throat hurt yesterday is making me hack and sputter today. I feel like I've got an elephant on my chest. <-- that sounds like the worst come on line ever: "Is that an elephant on your chest, or are you just happy to see me?" "Uh, you do realize that boobs don't work that way, right?"

Ah, the micro-fiction. It pops up in the nost unexpected places.

Trina called me from the East Village last night. Very much part of my old playgroud (though I lived in Greenwich, right on Washington Square Park). Sadly, I had to look up my favorite pub on the internet in order to give her directions. I suck muchly. I shall have to think about going to NYC over winter break in penance. WOE!

Buffy Musical Quiz!!!

My results:


I'll Never Tell....


Which Buffy Musical Song Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

Brought to you by my geekery.

The Place To Be For Ridiculous Things

More silly shit. I think the swimmy fish should be our "fishbowling" theme -- fello fishbowlers, your opinions?

Also, comments on the Rumsfeld post have been deleted. I assure you, this is not because I'm a posting Nazi. It's because I can't properly point and click like a normal person. OK, I should maybe have kept the posting Nazi persona, as it made me look less addlepated.

Since we seemed to need a lighter note around here, I offer this:
Inmate Penpals. Lonely Attractive Male and Female Inmates in the USA Seek Penpals

That's right, folks. These folks have no access to internet porn or 1-900 numbers. Won't you please help?

Had the "let's bash CJ meeting." It wasn't in response to what I thought, but was apparently due to disperate average scores on student evaluations for my two sections. Apparently, I did nothing wrong, the course should never be taught in summer, and we clearly improved the labs over the course of the... er... course. I clearly do not suck, and have plenty of positive experiences in leading labs from previous semesters. Hence, my sentence is to spend more of the time that I don't fucking have trekking over to the other side of campus to take "remedial teaching" from a private tutor. It took a half-hour meeting to get to this foregone conclusion. Why ask for my story if the bureaucratic "fix" is going to be the same either way? Frankly, it just wasted more of my time, and that's now in even shorter supply.

I returned to the office and soothed myself with Stealth Disco in what little break I had left before my next class (TAP! Thank GOD!!!).

MoveOn.org wants us to Fire Rumsfeld. Below is the text from the email I received. My question, though I despise Rumsfeld as much as the next dude, is why is firing him the chosen political step here? Unlike passing or overturning legislation, getting rid of one person does not stop a toxic process. Am I crazy in thinking that this is the kind of crazy lefty attempt that gives us a bad name?

"US occupation in Iraq has left American soldiers unprepared and vulnerable, the country degenerating into chaos, and the Iraqi people embittered and hostile. Now the President is asking Congress for a staggering $87 billion blank check to fund more of the same. Until he takes strong steps to correct this failure, Congress shouldn't give him a cent. President Bush needs to fire the team responsible -- starting with Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld -- and transfer authority to the United Nations.

Please join us in telling Congress to hold on to our money until President Bush changes his team and changes his course in Iraq. You can send an email to your Member of Congress and sign our petition at:

���http://www.moveon.org/firerumsfeld/

Then please pass this message along to your friends and colleagues.

Here's the situation:

-155 U.S. soldiers have died in Iraq since President Bush declared "Mission Accomplished." Since the beginning of the war, over 300 soldiers have given their lives, more than in any U.S. conflict in decades.

-There are 140,000 troops in the country now. According to General Tommy Franks, those levels won't be reduced "in the foreseeable future." "The Army is strained and stressed," said another general last week. (Washington Post, 9/14/03)

-The U.S. occupation of Iraq now costs about $1 billion a WEEK -- as much as the Federal Government spends on after school programs for the entire year. Those are just military costs -- not including any money for rebuilding in Iraq.

-Suicide attacks and bombings throughout Iraq are becoming a daily occurrence; they show no sign of slowing.

-Iraqis resent the U.S. occupation. The headline of an article in today's New York Times is "Iraqis' Bitterness Is Called Bigger Threat Than Terror." (New York Times, 9/16/03)

-No weapons of mass destruction have been found, nor have we seen any evidence of an active weapons development program.

-And there's no exit strategy: the Administration has yet to present a realistic plan for how the occupation of Iraq will end.

But Donald Rumsfeld and the team that took us to war remain unwilling to concede that anything's wrong. Thomas White, a retired Army General, noted that "[Rumsfeld] is absolutely convinced that he is right, that his view is correct, so all the rest of this stuff that is floating around is kind of noise, a lot of which he just dismisses out of hand, or he rationalizes somehow as consistent with this plan of his." (Washington Post, 9/14/03)

While Rumsfeld rationalizes, we're paying for the mismanagement of Iraq in money and in blood. The President, Secretary Rumsfeld, and the rest of the team distorted evidence to get us into this war. They told us that they had a plan for getting out of Iraq. But so far, the President hasn't done anything to demonstrate that he's going to pull us out of this mess. He should start by hiring a new Defense Secretary. Then he should repudiate the failed unilateral approach and transfer authority for the rebuilding of Iraq to the United Nations.

It's Congress's duty to keep the President accountable. You can tell Congress to hold on to the $87 billion until the President changes his team and changes his course at:

���http://www.moveon.org/firerumsfeld/

There's a lot at stake. We have to do this right.

Sincerely,
--Carrie, Eli, Joan, Noah, Peter, Wes, and Zack
��The MoveOn Team
��September 17th, 2003"

End Quote. Bring it on!

"Dalton McGuinty: He's an evil reptilian kitten-eater from another planet,"

And you thought politicians in the US fought dirty. The above comes from our neighbors to the north.

Am still unimpressed. Also still enamored of the word fuck. Fuck this fucking shit. Fuck.

Am considerably more calm. Have been informed that I'm not allowed to quit until I either get my masters or fail my prelims. Shall ruminate on this.

Tap danced this afternoon. Getting all sweaty was quite theraputic. As was stomping rather loudly during one of our combinations.

But I'm still unimpressed.

I hate grad school. There's more backstabbing, gossip, and in-fighting here than in any fucking high school. So far, I have nothing to show that I might even be remotely good at what I want to do with my life, and a bunch of passive-aggressive alleged "teachers" who are unwilling to tell me how to be a better teacher, but perfectly willing to check a box that tells administrators that I suck at teaching. I frankly wish I had never heard of sociology and was somewhere right now starving my way through an unfulfilling career in the theater.

Fuck you, world. I'm unimpressed.

Bible fan fiction. This should really not surprise me, but I kind of had to see it to believe it.... though from the summaries, you couldn't pay me to read it.

Interestingly, few seem to actually involve bible stories or characters, which would make it kind of interesting... I mean, if you slash Ruth and Naomi, all that "wither thou goest" business makes MUCH more sense... *wanders off mumbling "mother-in-law, my ass*

PS The preceding was meant as a JOKE. For those who think I'm blaspheming: if I was made in God's image, then he MUST have a sick sense of humor. To those who think I'm a bible thumper: *points... laughs... tries to stop... keels over* Good one.

Find your crime fighting duo here!

They Fight Crime!

Kabalarian Philosophy - Merging Eastern Wisdom with Western Practicality

Freaking hilarious. Here's the personality description for my name:

Although your name of [ME!!] gives you a good appreciation of material values, business ability, and skill in organizing and managing others, your success is restricted by a lack of self-confidence and initiative. This name brings out a practical, materialistic quality, with a strong desire for a good standard of living in an environment where you are in contact with refined, successful people. You try to further your interests through pursuing the association of people with influence. Being well-groomed and well-dressed at all times is important to you as you always strive to make a good impression on others. Your interests are more focused on your social life and convivial living, with any pressing or difficult issues being put off as long as possible.


I'm a GOLD DIGGER!!!! Who knew?

Now that it's not the eleventh of September anymore...

I've had a request to post my little letter to the editor that I wrote to the Daily. As it did not get published, I think I will. It's not analytical, terribly political, or unemotional, as it was written in response to the media coverage and homeland propaganda that went into overdrive this week. I've had conversations with some of you where I went on my "no one acted out of patriotism that day; that word is just to small for what they did" rant. This stems from that.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------
This September eleventh, I will not be celebrating Patriot day. You can call me a traitor, you can call me commie-pinko-scum, but I will not be swayed or shamed. I think that commemorating that particular national tragedy as a day of �patriotism� demeans the memory of those it claims to honor.

Not one of the newly minted national heroes who died that day acted out of a sense of patriotic duty. From the firefighters who ran up while everyone else was running down, to the passengers on flight 93 who fought back so that their deaths might mean that others lived, no one acted out of obligation to their country, but out of obligation to humanity. By recasting their sacrifices as the first battle in a war of good versus evil, the current administration has used a patriotic theme to pervert the amazing selflessness of these acts for its own purposes.

Our leaders could have mourned the loss of hundreds of invaluable, heroic citizens by budgeting for better salaries or equipment for police and firefighters across the nation. Instead,they chose to budget for war and death, and justified it with a few lies and the empty rhetoric of American Patriotism. Instead of honoring those who would risk their lives to help people they�ve never met, they encouraged suspicion of anyone �out of the ordinary,� and the reporting of any behavior that might be considered �unpatriotic.� Out of selfless sacrifice emerged sanctioned racial profiling and a new �crusade� -- both nationally and globally, the antitheses of selflessness.

So, this September 11th, I will not contemplate what the many brave men and women, both on the ground and aloft, did �for the good of their country.� I will instead remember that there are people in this world who will give their lives to help others, without stopping to ask if they march under the same flag, or worship the same gods.

And I will try to be more like them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

As I have been seriously lacking in both bravery and selflessness lately, this seemed a good way to remember what happened. Also, I think the attacks have been used to fuel enough vengeance, war, and nationalist arrogance. It's time someone asked if this truly honors the memories of the folks who died saving others -- after all, they did out number the hijackers by quite a bit.

Got up at five this morning. Have not really stopped working since. Have decided that I love my classes. Have also decided that I need to get more sleep. Am not sure if the two can peacefully co-exist.

Tapped today -- yay for actually getting exercise!!! Off to read some more, because I'm not done working yet!

When the going gets tough, the tough write letters to the editor. So did I. Doubtful it'll be published, though.

Nearly two years. God, when did that happen?

Hehe... I peda-conferenced with Ryan's bro today. The words "walk with me" actually came out of my mouth. Feeling all West Wing-y, apparently.

Cheap thrills day!!!!

Went to the Renaissance Festival, dressed in lots of fest garb in 90 degree heat. Met my salvation in the form of a water seller who offered the best ren-fest service EVER: he stuck his hands in ice water and rubbed them on the faces and necks of lovely young women (and me). This was especially hilarious after I bought myself new clothes (yay! I no longer have to beg and borrow!), which greatly increased the area of skin not covered by my neckline. Water seller, it should be noted, was highly cute (bearing in mind the fact that many have recently questioned my taste in "cute," you may or may not believe this), and had what appeared to be a love affair with my hand. He kissed it rather... lingeringly on more than one occasion. I suspect this to be because it put him at eye level with said lowered neckline.

We ate very little for a fest day, as it was too hot to be hungry. I finally got to stay for all of drum jam, and danced til my little feet almost couldn't hold me up. Twas amazing. With so many drums encircling the dancers, the beat just kind of moves up through you and moves your body of its own accord. Just try to stay still. Especially if you're a dancing freak like me.

Am knackered now. Came home and found Esther on line, had a huge chat with her -- YAY!!!! Shall see her again for the final weekend of fest in a few weeks. Can't Wait!

You know how I'm always saying I got stuck at about age 14?

My inner child is sixteen years old!

Life's not fair! It's never been fair, but while
adults might just accept that, I know
something's gotta change. And it's gonna
change, just as soon as I become an adult and
get some power of my own.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

14 was not a possible answer, but this was the closest to it. Spooky.

No wonder I feel old.

Celery and untrustworthy undewear are examind in this archive of Art Fram's work.

Yeah, I'm serious. It's a stitch.

"Stand before the people you fear and speak your mind - even if your voice shakes. When you least expect it, someone may actually listen to what you have to say."
--Maggie Kuhn

It just seemed like a good quote for the day.

Have found stick-figure Harry Potter porn. Wish I was joking. I was wandering fandom sites, minding my geeky business, and there it was.

Fucking hilarious.

Now that I've got a bit of blog time, I'll harken back to part of this week's entertainment, the fact that I have a huge celebrity crush on Richard Schiff. He in no way resembles any Soc department prof, despite the squicky ramblings of my lovely classmate (thanks a friggin' lot Keith -- ew). I also never claimed he was cute -- he is, however, extremely hot (I suspect this may be based on his West Wing character).

So, the polls are open -- how badly do I get skewered for this one?

And why couldn't older men who look like THIS ever decide to hit on me?

Walked all the way across the bridge to Boynton Health service (and far inferior food options) to have my eyeglasses looked at, as one of the arms is in the process of breaking. The very kind woman there took them, played with the little springy things, then said, "yep... it's in the process of breaking... be careful with it." I could have stayed on West Bank, gone to seven corners, and had a decent meal in the time it took me trek over there and not get my glasses fixed, then run off with a to-go bagel. And when the arm of these things breaks off next week, I'm gonna be pissed.

Slightly bitchy today. Had a major case of "oh shit I have to introduce myself to a class" heebie-jeebies. Sounded like the world's largest mouse. How fucking embarassing. Am considering seeking medication for this, as it's frankly getting ridiculous. On the other hand, I'm freakish enough without drugs.

Need help voting? This may help sort out which candidate agrees with you on The Issues. I was somewhat unthrilled, however, as the issues presented are not necessarily those most important to me, and they strongly rely on linking voting to interest group mission/value statements. I'm also bitter because it tole me to vote for Dean. When you read the descriptions, you'll know why: he rated high on both presented "sides" of at least one issue, thus proving a match for voters on either side of that issue and avoiding any concrete statement of opinion. Damn politicians.

Many thanks to Katherine, for the link. Hopefully she will not kill me for dissecting it here:-)

You are looking at... er... reading the blog of the new 50% TA for political soc.

Life is good.

Jon says, "I've had it with spineless Democrats." Go read it. 'Cause he said it better than I ever could.

The fates are cruel and awful. I had me a shiny new TA position, 50%, not writing intensive -- not a class I WANTED, like political soc, but less likely to drive me into the ground, like political soc and gender combined. It was taken away from me by a 20 minute overlap with one of my courses. 20 MINUTES!!!!!

However, what the fates take away, they give back in other places. It now looks as though political soc may have gone to 50 enrolled. Cross your fingers for me -- this would mean I get to keep my sanity and the course I want (and Darren, whom I didn't get to speak with as much as I wanted to today. I have to act all professional around you. I love having you in class, but you may have to wait until next term to see how nutty I can really be when I'm not supposed to be a role model for you).

I can't wait to hear Ryan laugh over the role model bit.

More favorites:

This Is Just To Say -- William Carlos Williams

"50-50" Langston Hughes

"Harlem: A Dream Deferred" Langston Hughes (read it aloud. is wonderful.)

"Requiem" Anna Akhmatova

T. S. Eliot: The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Mmmm... because poetry is the most sinful form of procrastination... Read and enjoy.