Stronger

This week has been a busy (and unexpectedly dramatic) week in apartment management. I attended the housing fair (on the correct day this time) and got at least six people to give me their info to schedule a tour. However, [Львица] and I have been trying to find someone to move into our apartment in June so I can move in next door and the girl living there doesn't have to worry about subletting. But it's been hard to find two people who want to sublet so early, so we wondered if it might be easier for Britney, the girl who lives in the apartment I'm planning on moving into next year, to find a short-term subletter.

Except that, suddenly, it's not okay to sublet for less than three months in the building; they look for long-term leasing so they don't have high turnover. Which makes sense... but that was NOT what we were told upon filling out the lease. And that's not what any of the other tenants were told by the previous building manager either. So now we have that tricky little issue.

Our boss and building owner had decided to make an exception in order to let someone lease short-term, but before this [Львица] and I were both certain he alluded to giving me another apartment, not the one I wanted. I was unsure how this would solve any problems, but I'm certain that's what he said on the phone the other night. Not that it matters here; there are some battles I can't win and trying to justify myself and show that I am not in the wrong will solve nothing; it is not the point and it doesn't matter here. Unfortunately for me, I have a long history of hating any situation that makes me feel wronged and blamed when I feel I don't deserve to (something I deeply have in common with the protagonist of Jane Eyre) and it's been hard for me to see this situation clearly. However, this situation came up the other night and our boss took offense and [Львица] had to work herself out of a very awkward situation. Every time I think I've gotten better at communication and I think I'm good at what I'm doing, the stark reality of how much work it takes to attain good communication hits me.

http://www.examiner.com/

But instead of focusing out how far I've got to go, I'd rather commend myself for how far I've come. Yes, I could communicate better with my boss. But this is the first real job I've had, I've never met him or spoken with him face-to-face, and sometimes it's hard to express what [Львица] and I have discussed to our boss with just one of us trying to summarize. And given my history of introversion, slight social anxiety, and loathing of talking on phones (which has all but dissipated this year), I'm pretty goddamn pleased with myself. I have become a stronger person - in words, in actions, in many things. And for that, well, I'm quite happy.

Of course, I still have ways to grow and change (who doesn't?) and I'll harbor regrets about not being afraid to speak up sooner. Maybe it was because of Catholic school, maybe it was just who I was or what I was taught when I was young, but arguing with authority is something I had to learn myself, something I never saw accepted or allowed. If it weren't for [Львица] and, oddly enough, my father's new outspokenness about politics, and the fact that I've allowed myself to get really pissed off about some things, I might have never learned to speak my mind. I regret not doing it more in the past; I'll always wish I had spoken up in my high school Biology class when my teacher said that it was possible for AIDS to be passed through kissing which was SO WRONG, instead of just fuming about it later; I should have stood up and TOLD HIM he was wrong.

But the environment and person I was in high school was far, far different from where I find myself now. In college, there's a sense of freedom that I often take for granted. In college, you can break some of the rules. In high school, rules are the only structure there is to cling to.

Not that college is anywhere near perfect. [Львица]'s English class this semester has exemplified over and over again how easy it is for someone to take away the ability of expression (even when they think they are actually opening doors wider when in actuality they are slamming them shut). But I'm infinitely grateful for those who have allowed and encouraged me to speak out; the only thing I have too keep fighting for is the belief that I have the right to do so and that I deserve it. It's not always an easy feat; but I'm working on it. :)

Strength

http://www.paulina.ws/

So [Львица] stayed up late last night, having a conversation about how I was feeling in regards to the situation with [X]. She told me to stop beating myself up and blaming myself for things. Along with many other genius thing, which I will attempt to briefly reiterate here.

Like how people who used to be shy (I am certianly one of those) aren't used to no one liking you; we're afraid of making enemies when it's time to say our own opinion. It's why [X] is afraid to say her opinions, afraid of what it's going to be like. Because she doesn't want to lose people. And it's the same for me.

But we're going to lose people. We're going to make mistakes. That's why regret exists in the world. We have to fight. Because it's sadder to let someone win without a fight

There is something to be learned from how [novel killer] acts - she doesn't concede. I wouldn't want to be that extreme (especially in light of recent events). But she at least what she gets what she needs to say out there. Otherwise, as [Львица] it's like a film on top of the water, with people not saying everything they want to say.

"I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did," [Львица] told me. She described to me how we're a lot of different people in our lives and, as we grow up, we have to let one go and it's like grieving for a person who's died. We have a fantasy of ourselves in our heads, a fantasy that [Львица] said she lived for eight years of who she could be. Yet she never touched who she was - she had no real idea. She was a soul untouched and the time to find out who she was had arrived. She likened it to idealizations of love - how after you really fall in love, you read books and hear music in a different way. You can think about what it will be like, but you won't really know until you know.

There's a barrier between us - a barrier of time and life. But you have to press up against the glass, to make it your own words, to make it your own.

http://tuttoinbiancoenero.tumblr.com

So it was with these thoughts that I started today. And started it very well, I might add. Until the shit hit the fan once more. [novel killer] has sent me a message about doing Secret Santa for the Christmas part and I told her this:

I think [X] is still in charge of Secret Santa, actually. [Львица] and I weren't planning on doing it.

And then she said:

All right. She said you wanted to be in charge, so I figured I'd ask.


And then I said:

Well, we just offered to let her have the party here and she misinterpreted it as us wanting to take over the party; we just wanted to offer our apartment as a venue. Sorry for the confusion
.

And then it ended up at this from [novel killer]:

Stop stop stop. No. [X] informed me last night that you had messaged her asking if it was okay if you did, and said said it was fine if you did, but she'd be upset about it but if some something she had to work out by herself. That would be you wanted to take over the party. Which is fine, there's nothing wrong with it, so that's why I asked you this. And yes, she was upset, but it was more of because she'd been doing it for years.



Frankly I think everyone needs to get over their hatred for the little stuff. It's stupid. Everything's not about you (as in individuals). It's about together. [X] being upset about losing control is not about you wanting to take it over, it's symbolic of the fact that the times have changed and she's trying to deal with it. It's Christmas. I don't need this, no one needs this. I have familial stuff going on right now that's going to be a huge sour note during Christmas, so the last thing I want it to have a petty party with friends that I won't enjoy the company of because they're all being petty. And it's not just you. You'll probably take it that way and tell [Львица] and then people will hate me, but whatever. Just try to remember the things people do usually have nothing to do with you as a person. (That goes for everyone.) I would give everyone this speech, but unfortunately you're the message I got this morning and therefore you get the brunt of it.



I know you're not very happy with [X] for whatever reason, but you know what? Whatever it is, I guarantee it's a stupid reason. I don't even know what it is, but I know it's stupid. So you know what? Get over it. Everyone should get over their stupid things with each other and move on. Why? Not because it's Christmas. Not because we want to be the bigger person. Why? Because we're friends. And good friends should love near-conditionally. {I think she means non-conditionally.} Because people fuck up, and your friends are supposed to forgive you for it. Like if I yelled at you for an hour because I was so angry from outside sources and your little thing happened to be the thing that set me off? As a friend, I would expect you to forgive me without be having to say anything once we cooled down. Because that's what friends do. And we were great friends. Unfortunately college has separated us. And now we're not during the year, but we still should have that bond. And if we don't, why are we having Christmas with one another? Because if we're not friends enough to forgive each other of expressing opinion and not get catty and guilt-trippy, then we shouldn't have Christmas at all.



And that's the reason I haven't even posted on the Christmas thread yet. I wanted to see how this played out. And I hope my friends prove me wrong, but we'll have to see.



Also, thanks for completely ignoring [musical queen]. (note the sarcasm). I know she can be a handful, but she is our friend, and either you or [Львица], since you decided the date seeing as it's your place, could've politely told her that you can't have the party when she's in town because of [Львица] not being in town.



Anyway, I hope you give this some thought instead of taking it as [La Maga]-bashing and hate me forever instead of something our entire group needs to work on. (Except for maybe [foxy lady], and ha, ironically [musical queen] who has never passed judgement on any of you because she genuinely likes you.)


Needless to say, this kind of tore me up when I saw it. Okay, that's a lie. IT FUCKING DEVASTATED ME. This isn't the first time something like this had happened between [novel killer] and me though. She sent me a really terrible message on Facebook back in my freshman year, one that made me hate myself so much I actually toyed with the thought the thought of jumping of the Washington Avenue bridge because I felt like entire world loathed my guts. I don't think [novel killer] realizes how much power her words have - especially over me.

We didn't exclude [musical queen] from party plans - [Львица] talked to her separately. As for the rest of it... I don't know. She clearly blames me for everything that happened here - and then some. A lot of it doesn't make sense. How can she say my problems are just stupid without even knowing what they are? How can I non-conditionally care about a person when they write poisonous things like this and don't seem really reciprocate that? Why is okay for people to take out their cathartic problems on me but when I actually have a problem, it's stupid?

Beats me. I think it's crap. Really, I do. Despite how shitty I felt during social psych (which was ironically about female aggression, in which we discussed Mean Girls - which I'd actually just seen) I was feeling much less shitty and blame-worthy. I'm not gonna take it, dammit. I have feelings - I have rights. I am my own woman. And though I did what she expected I would - I showed it to [Львица], I don't hate her as a person. I hate some of the things she does but I don't hate HER. I'm just worried about her. Because this and what she was telling [Львица] isn't healthy. There's a lot of hate built up there and I'm worried for her.

Good thing is, I talked with [X] tonight and straightened some things out. We're back on friendly terms and I feel like we could be moving to a much stronger, healthier relationship. I hope so at least. And the funny thing about anger - once you get an apology, you can't remember why you were mad in the first place. This new bridge into... wherever....It's not going to be easy, but I'm going to stick to my guns. I'm going to find out what's going on with [novel killer] and I'm going to keep working to be the strong, fabulous woman I know I can be. I've seen it. I can do it.

I'm worth it. :)

Blue Christmas

http://pic.blackberryseeker.com

Well, [X] has done it now. She's now tainted one of the few sacred things I've got: Christmas.

Here's the deal: my group of friends have this annual tradition of having a Christmas party at [X]'s house every year. Although, because of insinuating circumstances, [X]'s family now lives with her grandmother and she doesn't feel comfortable/isn't allowed to have guests over. And, because I realized that I hadn't heard anything yet about a Christmas party, I messaged her about it. She wasn't sure whether she was up for it, but I told her that [Львица] and I were certainly interested and so she sent out a Facebook message about it. Because she said she couldn't have guests over, [Львица] and I offered up our place. She seemed okay about it, but when I did message her, she sort of flipped out. This was the message:

Me:
Hey, you seem busy and I don't want to pressure you into doing the Christmas party if you don't want to, so if you're not interested in doing it, Sarah and I would be cool just hosting a little get-together at our apartment. I don't want to take over the Christmas party from you or anything and we wouldn't do Secret Santa or anything like that; just dinner and hang-out-ness up here. Lemme know what you think.


[X]:
I don't want to sound like a bitch, but I want to be honest. It's really hard for me to turn over running the Christmas party to anybody, since I've been hosting it since I was in the sixth grade--before I even knew you or Sarah or most of the people who are invited to it now. It's been my way of giving my friends a holiday gift, hokey as that sounds. So not being able to throw it makes me feel really irrelevant.

(Some period of time later)
With that said, I'm not eleven anymore. I know that more people than me feel a sense of ownership over the concept of a "Christmas get-together" now and have every right to host it. And the truth is, I don't really have anything to give right now. I don't have a home to welcome anyone to. I don't have a lot of time or energy. I don't even feel like I have the right "spirit" to do this. So if you and Sarah want to host this get-together, then I'll honestly be okay with that. I may even be relieved. Just please don't think badly of me for not getting to the point of being absolutely ok with not hosting this immediately. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty by being honest with you, I just want you to see all my cards laid out on the table so that nothing gets bottled up to fester.


Me:
Okay, this is not what I expected at all and it makes me really sad. I think you, [Львица] and I need to have a talk about this.

http://mendokusee.deviantart.com/

So she called me and we talked. Sort of. I don't know why but every time I get on the phone, all of my gumption fails. Oh, wait, I know why. Because I'm a coward.

Yep, that's the truth. I'm a sniveling little coward. I can say exactly how I feel about [X] to [Львица] but when it comes to actually telling [X}, I hear her voice, that sound like she's on the verge of tears and suddenly I'm back to square one. I can't tell her that I'm pissed - though I did tell her I was upset and was audibly angry on the phone yesterday. But somehow, I just can't manage to find the words to tell her how I actually feel. Despite the fact that when her I read her message I was shaking and ended up taking out my rage gnashing Cheerios angrily and cathartically writing all kinds of poisonous thoughts for fifteen minutes. When she starts her talk about feeling unworthy of her friends and how bad she feels about herself and how she feels like all of her problems are insignificant and thus won't talk about them (which then makes them more-so - and more dangerously - important because they get all muddled up in stuff like this), it hits the little part inside of me that feels the same way and then I make my stuff unimportant so at least one person thinks her stuff is important (instead of having an equal, two-way street of a friendship). And then because I try to understand her and support her, I can't criticize her without her thinking I hate her - which she's pushing me to only through self-fulling prophecy. Because she thinks everyone hates her, I begin to hate her because I can't be honest with her. I don't hate her - I just want her think before she speaks, to want to change herself for the better. But instead, I don't tell her this; I just talk about her behind her back. Just like she does. In my inability to be honest with her, I become exactly what I hate about her.

And I don't know what to do.

Ironically, we were talking about relationships and aggression (two separate topics that accidentally overlapped due to too much material) in my social psych class on Monday, which was really too much. Sometimes, my psychology classes oddly mirror my life. What it did tell me was that I can't stay this way. I can't passively wait for us to finally grow apart or stick by her even if I get hurt. That's what I've been doing; it doesn't work and it feels wrong. I don't know whether it's best to try to actively work through our problems, because that would take time from her and she seems to damn busy to care about that sort of thing. Besides, I don't know if it's worth trying to work through and save. Which basically gives me one option: tell her it's done. She's pushed me too far away and that I'm done unless she steps forward herself. But that's not just something you can spring on someone. It's not like you can just break up with a friend (I dunno - maybe you can; I've never tried it). But I have so few friends these days, I feel reluctant to do so - because if I piss her off, I piss off everyone else who still talks to me from high school, [Львица] and [action is eloquence] and [uber gay] probably being the only exceptions. And [save the panzer]. Because fortunately for him, he has nothing to do with this shit.

So right now I just feel ansty and stressed and crampy because it's nearly finals time and I literally have cramps. Yay. But I know I can't stay this way. I mean, after I talked to [X] yesterday, I felt like a terrible person. She makes me feel bad about myself. And then "I am what I am" came on my iTunes and I started crying, because I couldn't have felt farther from what I am after that conversation. I was glad [Львица] called me to save me from wallowing in self-pity.

But bloody hell - IT'S CHRISTMAS. I shouldn't feeling bad about myself. I shouldn't put up with [X] totally misconstruing her friendships and, through trying to not make anything about her, totally make everything about her. I SHOULDN'T BE FEELING LIKE A PILE OF CRAP AGAIN. I was so happy before I got that message, thinking all about a holiday party (because I've never hosted a holiday party. Ever. In fact, I think I've only hosted six parties in my entire life). I want that carefree happiness back. Am I going to let [X] get me down. Not anymore. No, I shan't! It's Christmas.

http://my-girl-friday.tumblr.com/post/13713307091/no-i-shant-its-christmas

Blasphemy

WARNING: This is going to be a long blog. I'd apologize, but I think it's worth it. 

Today, I went to mass. Being the weird, semi-Catholic that I am, I for unknown reasons get the urge to go to church about the time Advent rolls around. It's a comfort thing, I think - looking for hope in the approaching winter, looking for a way to de-stress in the looming doom of finals. The hope that maybe, just maybe, I will have a break-through and everything about life will suddenly make sense. I also had an ulterior motive for going today - after several decades of using the same service, the Papacy decided that this weekend, the first of a new liturgical year, would be the time to premiere a new liturgy.

A quick word on the liturgy - it's the prayers the Catholic church uses, the responses the congregation says to the priest, the stuff that's based off the traditional Latin mass. I was aware about the changes, due to articles such as this and this. It's supposed to be closer to the original Latin wording, yet people say it's not a great improvement. But I tried to keep an open mind - I really did.

It totally sucked. Not just because everything I'd memorized over the last 20 years was kind of worthless now. Not just because it made the entire mass seem awkward. Not even because it the wording was poor and not at all the smooth, flowing prose I was used to. I mean, all of that could be fixed with repetition and getting used to the new words. No, I was mad because of all of the changes that the Church could be making, THEY CHOOSE THIS.

To add insult to injury, the church we usually go to, the Basilica of St. Mary's, did not have their usual pastor there (a very friendly fellow who, from the middle row of pews looks very much like Phillip Seymour Hoffman). No, we had a priest from Duluth, who had been there before and sang his praises about President Obama. That was very awkward then - Obama had just recently become president and won the Nobel Peace Price for unclear reasons. And Obama had nothing to do with the week's homily. I really don't care what a priest's political opinion is. But the homily - the sermon, the bit where the priest is supposed to connect the Bible reading to everyday life - generally shouldn't be a time for you to out your political platform for no good reason. This week, the visiting priest decided he should tie in the OWS protestors to the wait for Jesus to return. I didn't get it. At all. I think he was trying to make the argument that being supportive of the poor is not inherently Bolshevik or liberal and that questioning the way things are, the systems we're in, is something the Church has been doing for centuries, something Jesus did. And that's when I lost it.

For those of you who have never been inside a Catholic church, here's what the interior of St. Mary's looks like:

http://www.katiemoos.com/albums/blog/20080114/0012.jpg

Now, not EVERY Catholic church looks like this. But it's kind of a theme - you know, awesome splendor to celebrate the glory of God. It's part of the reason people Martin Luther decided to stop being Catholic and go and do their own thing - they got sick of the cognitive dissonance between what they were seeing and what they were hearing. "Yes, help the poor! Give them money! Go out there and support the OWS protestors. Bring them to our church and show them how great we are!" That was the gist of the priest's homily. What I see: marble. Gilded windows and altar. A priest who CLEARLY doesn't understand that the OWS protestors want nothing to do with the Catholic church - they most likely see it as another institution that's full of money and is not sharing it very well with the rest of the world. And if the priest supported the OWS people so much, why wasn't he offering to give the church's wealth to the poor? Why wasn't he out there protesting with them?

Because it's so much easier to talk the talk than walk the walk.

Religion comes easily to some people. I am not one of those people. I've had critical thinking in my life since day one - and because of that, I am overly critical about EVERYTHING. Have I doubted the existence of God? Yes, often. Do I believe in the kingdom of God? Bad question - it's recently occurred to me that I've never thought of God as a king. I'm American - the monarchical associations really don't set well with me (in fact, during mass, when we're supposed to bow during the presentation of the host, I thought to myself, I bow for no man! But I digress...) Do I think that, because the pope is supposed to be a conduit thru which God talks to us that he's always right? The man doesn't understand how condoms work - so NO (seriously, he previously said they spread AIDS. Check it out here). Perhaps it's not that religion doesn't come easily to me - it's that blind faith doesn't. Because I certainly don't have blind faith at all.

I cannot have 100% trust in the Catholic church because I disagree with so many things they do. They are hypocritical to the point of being painful. The priest up there today was talking about equality and I'm back there in the pews thinking about how unequal the Church is - how women can't be priests, how homosexuals are condemned, how until rather recently divorcees were excommunicated. The priest is talking about the important political issues he thinks that the Republicans are refusing to talk about while I know once, ONLY ONCE out of the several hundred times I've been to church in the last few years, I've only heard ONE priest (the Phillip Seymour Hoffman look-alike, actually) accept that: A) the Catholic church has a problem with pedophilia among their priests, B) this issue is a BIG DAMN DEAL and has been kept quiet, and C) something should be done about it. So go ahead and talk about issue that deserve better coverage - I'll keep in mind why you have no right to throw stones from glass houses. And of all the things the Church could have changed - rules about the celibacy of priests, rules about women being allowed in the priesthood, any of the number of huge issues  in the Church, they change the wording of the Liturgy. Really, guys? Really?

What made me saddest, I think, is looking around at the kind, sweet people around me, stumbling through the new Liturgy, doing their best to sing choral music, trying not to twitch as the Homily stretched past fifteen minutes, and realizing: THEY DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER. They deserve more than a Church that's on the divide - trying to keep old members and recruit new members at the same time. Trying to resist becoming modern by making changes to reflect the old Latin. Seeing change as something that is done for long-term, divine reasons, not for present, bodily circumstances. Preaching socialistic or liberal views while the overall structure is incredibly conservative and sovereign. Communism versus monarchy. Black and white. Forgetting that there are so, so many shades of grey in-between.

That's the problem with this divide in the Church - the priests are no longer preaching what the pope says. Which is great, I think - I mean, I totally believe that priests should be allowed to say what they think. But the thing is, I don't know what the Catholic church IS any more. Is it what I see in the Papacy? Is it what I see with the priests - totally individuated and unique, depending on who's doing the service? I feel like there must be a way to reconcile the two, to allow for freedom of expression yet still keeping a cohesive continuity together, without all of this political squabbling. Of course, I have no idea what that might be. The Church is totally built off sovereignty - but it also has a more recent history of Socialist connections. And I feel like it's not working. I feel like people aren't happy about this, that it's just causing hypocrisy. I mean, there's only so many times I can say, "It's just one man's opinion, it's just want one priest says" or "I don't have to agree with the pope" without feeling like I don't belong. There's only so many times I can walk out of mass feeling angry and upset and betrayed.

I'm thinking about going to Lutheran service sometime soon - I mean, I've already gotten the whole "I'm mad at hypocrisy and I'm mad at the pope!" thing down pretty well. But I also think that maybe I'm not meant for organized religion. I really love going to mass - the tradition and ceremony of it is comforting. But the politics driving it really bothers me - maybe because it's a battle that's becoming more and more obvious and I don't want to have to take a side. I'm not a socialist, I'm don't put my faith in the sovereign, I'm not a very good capitalist (well, it depends on your definition of capitalist. I'm not a very good capitalist as defined by a cursory look at Wall Street). It seems that I might just believe in The Theory of Moral Sentiments by Adam Smith (yes, THAT Adam Smith - he's not just an economist, Wall Street people and OWSers. I believe he deserves a huge second look) (I also realize I should really discuss my perception of politics sometime. But not here - this damn long enough). And despite our efforts to separate church and state, one has to admit that religion is pretty damn political in many ways. So maybe, being the weird person that I am (a moral sentimenter and a reverent agnostic-Catholic mess) I should just stop pissing myself off and going to mass. And yet at Christmas, I just keep finding myself drawn back to those cool stone walls, that scent of spicy incense and the guttural rumble of the organ, the haunting glimmering stained glass - and thus I put myself through it all over again.

Maybe I'm a hypocrite too.

Madame Bovary, Critique, and Writing

Today, for like the third time this month, my professor in my CSCL class went on a tirade about Baudelaire and Flaubert. Okay, tirade is unfair - that makes it sound like he doesn't have a point. He does have a point - it's just a very angry, bitter one.

In the realm of culture, we've been talking about how, allegedly, writers such as Baudelaire and Flaubert are hypocrites. They are not writing a critique of bourgeois life - instead, they pull towards preferring Romantic fiction over modern life. Though a student in my class argued that by showing crisis, that having love fail and Bovary die and torment and tormenting that they are working through this crisis of modern live versus Romantic fiction. My professor disagreed and instead said that Flaubert despised his audience and that his prose was designed to be mistaken for realism, that the "novel in the end is about the creation of beautiful sentences" and "opaque prose, free of indirect discourse" with an omniscient narrator that is actually prejudiced by the characters. What seems to be a critique actually trumps us, tricks us, and is not what it seems to be.

This is the point in my notes where I wrote: OMG... how the hell can I be a novelist with this shit?

Now, I haven't read Baudelaire. And I don't recall much of Madame Bovary, unfortunately - it was one of those novels I tried reading during AP Literature my senior year in high school and I just didn't have the time to actually read it - it was sadly more of a skimming process. Yes, I know, shame on me. Senior year was a nightmare, though. Point is, I can't really argue whether or not Flaubert writes in such a way. What I can argue is what I know as a writer. And boy, oh, boy - do I dislike what my professor has to say.

For one, what writer actually hates his audience? Who DOES that? Okay, so Flaubert might have, I don't actually know. But here's the point that another student made that I really agree with - at least with our personal interpretation of the novel, does it matter what Flaubert thinks, what he was aiming at, what he was trying to do? Not so much - what matters is what we come away with. And if we think that it happens to show a different message than what Flaubert intended, we can reshape it's purposes. Our professor agreed with this in a "yes, but..." kind of way, and then went on a tangent about Ulysses, which I didn't understand because I haven't read it yet (sometimes I feel like the only person in that class who hasn't read every classic novel ever, but I think that's just me. Nevertheless, I feel like I'm failing in some way. But please tell me when I'm supposed to have time to read it).

For another, does our endless critiquing of EVERYTHING really get us anywhere? Does insulting Baudelaire and Flaubert really help us get a better understanding of culture? I don't think so. What happens when we feel like we have to critique everything all the time and we can't just ENJOY something any more?  I'm worried that I won't be able to read a novel now without wondering if it's just trying to sweep me off to a fantasy world and make me forget about present reality (which it of course it's doing in some ways - isn't that the point? But apparently that's a terrible thing now...) According to my professor, there's something wrong with "art for art's sake" - but is it, REALLY? In every situation, at all times? I don't think so. I'm sure my professor would have really good come-backs for all of this, and maybe he's right... but I just feel like I'm being pushed towards the whole "everything you know is wrong" - which is NOT what I understood cultural studies to be, when I started this excursion in my past classes.

Also, I have a personal motivation in this topic. If I write a book and I am so lucky and blessed as to have it published and people actually read it, the first person to tell me that I am not realistically portraying life is going to get smacked. THERE'S A REASON I'M WRITING IT THE WAY I AM. And I certainly don't hate my audience. Maybe, in just a few situations, things need to be unrealistic. I don't care if I'm the only CSCL student in the world who will defend fantasy and sci-fi and the purpose of some fiction, but GODDAMN, the only thing I want to do right now is sit back and watch Doctor Who instead of wondering if my writing is actually destroying the world because I'm just perpetuating stereotypes and running away from problems instead of working through them. Well, I can't watch Doctor Who tonight - so this is one problem I'm just going to have to think through.

But as of right now - I still think I'm right :P

Mischief Night

So the other day, I believe I made a reference to trying to make up for the disaster that was last Halloween.

This requires some explaining.

Okay, so it wasn't really that bad. But I'm sure [Львица] would tell me that's rosy retrospection talking. And she'd be right.

It kind of felt like this...

Theory Land

Now that I've spent the bulk of my week getting over the flu, studying for a variety of tests and trying to figure out how the hell someone might become immortal (it's for a my personal writing work and WHY must I always find the hardest fucking things to write about is beyond me...) it feels good to get back to some serious, solid blogging.

Whatever the hell that is.

And lo and behold - a topic has found itself prominent in my mind once more: theory.

I feel like I have spent too much time this year reading the same stuff over and over and over in regards to Cultural Studies. I took a 1000 level course last spring (that operated much more like an 8000 level) and now, in this 5000 class (which is like senior-beginning grad school realm) I feel like I basically already know this stuff. I mean, the prof highlights some new things but, for the most part, I've got the origins of CSCL under my belt.

Which means now I'm just trapped in the realm of reading theory. More and more and more theory.

Here's the deal - on any given day, I don't usually mind reading philosophy/theoretical texts. Foucault? Bring it on. Adam Smith? Love the guy (Theory of Moral Sentiments for the win!) Hobbes, Thoreau, Rousseau, Bordo? All things I have read, read part of, will read, will re-read (Bordo refers to Susan Bordo, author on gender studies; she's pretty awesome).

But somehow... somehow I have gotten myself stuck in the "hey, guess what, our world sucks and we don't know what to do about it" realm of theory. The post-modernists or something. IT IS KILLING ME.

Generally, I wouldn't mind reading this stuff. Disagreement or lack of interest isn't the issue - I am interested and I don't totally disagree with what they are saying; and even when I do, I don't mind, I like reading stuff I disagree with. But something... something about these readings are rubbing me the wrong way.