A few notes on what I'm up to
Feb. 29th, 2004 11:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
x_losReading for Pleasure despite my assignments to read Dostoevsky and Virgil hanging over my head like a cartoon anvil:
I finished, in, like, an hour, this kind of charming book of short essays/vignettes by the woman who wrote Like Water for Chocolate, the Mexican post-feminist who advocated the reclaiming and honoring of traditional feminine tasks while not giving up our advances in outside spheres of progress. Her take on the irrationality of the unplanned, exploitative capitalistic economy is old news- it's the basic socialist line, but her whole philosophy is interesting. She empbraces the irrationality and communal tradition of the kitchen even while condemming the irrational persuit of personal expression (capitalitic endeavor) on this other level. Her stchick is really disjointed in some places. She's a good, straightforward writer. Her work is innovative and makes good points. She just needs to tie it all together. The lack of cohesion makes it difficult to buy into, despite the richness of the perspective. Despite this all being kind of thick stuff, she presents it in this warm, livley, homey manner that I appreciate.
I spent FOREVER looking for a short film I'd seen in Ragtag a year or two ago. I couldn't remember anything about it but the basic plot, which was actors performing this Russian play on a city bus in a misguided attempt to bring back theater and their struggles not to get kicked off. I discovered it was "Speed for Thespians" and the play was Chekov's, but confussion over whether to translate the title as "The Bear" or "The Boar" is rampant. It's a little one act play of maybe five pages. You should really read it, as it's online in text version and you can do it in 15 min for free, it's precious, classic, and soo short. Plus, you can impress people with your knowledge of Russian litterature with the minnimum amount of work possible.
On Men, and why Erin occasionally wishes she Loved the Ladies, just to avoid all this shit:
Jason attempted to ask me out again, as usual after months of zero communication between us. What is it with him?! What is this, the third, fourth time he's asked? Don't I always, very politley, decline? I hate to be so crass, but I believe I deserve, to put it curtly, better than a crass, homophobic MU freshman (not that there's anything wrong with MU, where I may well have to go, just that it's sooo Jason to me for some reason), who, despite a few charms, is so obviously not my type you could brand it on his forehead.
In other news, have been feeling naseous lately due to stress, a major source of which is Him. By Him, I mean the oblivious, never to be informed object of my unrequited devotion and all that. I can understand now why so many great poets are always accusing their beloveds of cruelty, despite that person not having done anything overtly wrong. I mean, he already has my heart, my mind, and various other regions of anatomy completley under his control. Moving on to upseting my stomach seems just glutanous. I'm a cook, I love to eat! Must everything pleasant be influenced or dominated by him? Sometimes I really resent this, damnit. No one has the right to mess with my hearty enjoyment of good food.
I skip meals now without noticing much, preoccupied with homework as my mother's Massive Crackdown this year has made me, as well as my restriction of fanfic/webcomic reading to one day a feek. Now I feel like I'm loosing my body's last completley independent, uninfluenced by anyone tie to the world. College related worrying is stressign me out to. I get the feeling I'm being quite rude or abrupt, even to Him because I'm just so depleted, and yet I muster on empty to do a bake sale for Gay straight Alliance or read my Virgil. That can't solve the problem, though, that I need to find a way to replenish before I sputter out. Suggestions on that topic would be welcome.
God, I just wish he would feel something for me, and let me know. A confirmation of fondness, affection, anything is what I need. I distrust all the indicators that he cares for me (I'm not talking the way I do for him, I know damn well that that can never happen) in some sense, it's so hard to know what he thinks, he's so... like me in that way, all come back and no answer. Would that I were his memory, that I would be with him always, know everything about him, and I would sometimes have his full attention.
I finished, in, like, an hour, this kind of charming book of short essays/vignettes by the woman who wrote Like Water for Chocolate, the Mexican post-feminist who advocated the reclaiming and honoring of traditional feminine tasks while not giving up our advances in outside spheres of progress. Her take on the irrationality of the unplanned, exploitative capitalistic economy is old news- it's the basic socialist line, but her whole philosophy is interesting. She empbraces the irrationality and communal tradition of the kitchen even while condemming the irrational persuit of personal expression (capitalitic endeavor) on this other level. Her stchick is really disjointed in some places. She's a good, straightforward writer. Her work is innovative and makes good points. She just needs to tie it all together. The lack of cohesion makes it difficult to buy into, despite the richness of the perspective. Despite this all being kind of thick stuff, she presents it in this warm, livley, homey manner that I appreciate.
I spent FOREVER looking for a short film I'd seen in Ragtag a year or two ago. I couldn't remember anything about it but the basic plot, which was actors performing this Russian play on a city bus in a misguided attempt to bring back theater and their struggles not to get kicked off. I discovered it was "Speed for Thespians" and the play was Chekov's, but confussion over whether to translate the title as "The Bear" or "The Boar" is rampant. It's a little one act play of maybe five pages. You should really read it, as it's online in text version and you can do it in 15 min for free, it's precious, classic, and soo short. Plus, you can impress people with your knowledge of Russian litterature with the minnimum amount of work possible.
On Men, and why Erin occasionally wishes she Loved the Ladies, just to avoid all this shit:
Jason attempted to ask me out again, as usual after months of zero communication between us. What is it with him?! What is this, the third, fourth time he's asked? Don't I always, very politley, decline? I hate to be so crass, but I believe I deserve, to put it curtly, better than a crass, homophobic MU freshman (not that there's anything wrong with MU, where I may well have to go, just that it's sooo Jason to me for some reason), who, despite a few charms, is so obviously not my type you could brand it on his forehead.
In other news, have been feeling naseous lately due to stress, a major source of which is Him. By Him, I mean the oblivious, never to be informed object of my unrequited devotion and all that. I can understand now why so many great poets are always accusing their beloveds of cruelty, despite that person not having done anything overtly wrong. I mean, he already has my heart, my mind, and various other regions of anatomy completley under his control. Moving on to upseting my stomach seems just glutanous. I'm a cook, I love to eat! Must everything pleasant be influenced or dominated by him? Sometimes I really resent this, damnit. No one has the right to mess with my hearty enjoyment of good food.
I skip meals now without noticing much, preoccupied with homework as my mother's Massive Crackdown this year has made me, as well as my restriction of fanfic/webcomic reading to one day a feek. Now I feel like I'm loosing my body's last completley independent, uninfluenced by anyone tie to the world. College related worrying is stressign me out to. I get the feeling I'm being quite rude or abrupt, even to Him because I'm just so depleted, and yet I muster on empty to do a bake sale for Gay straight Alliance or read my Virgil. That can't solve the problem, though, that I need to find a way to replenish before I sputter out. Suggestions on that topic would be welcome.
God, I just wish he would feel something for me, and let me know. A confirmation of fondness, affection, anything is what I need. I distrust all the indicators that he cares for me (I'm not talking the way I do for him, I know damn well that that can never happen) in some sense, it's so hard to know what he thinks, he's so... like me in that way, all come back and no answer. Would that I were his memory, that I would be with him always, know everything about him, and I would sometimes have his full attention.
