Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Catch 22

One thing that annoys me about women... is that women don't like other women.

Sounds kind of self-contradictory.

I just really don't like when a woman, especially a peer, says that she hates women. Where is your pride?!
I get it though. I have been there. I don't like certain characteristics that have been stereotyped as girly, or feminine, or whatever. I tend not to hang around people who have those specific characteristics. Lets face it, you can't like everybody.
But is is the over generalization that I don't like.
I'm a woman. I don't hate myself. Gender is not all that makes a person.

I get frustrated especially when feminists say this.
Part of me can agree with them.
But part of me feels like they are being totally unjust.

This is the main qualm that I have with reading Wollstonecraft. She doesn't have respect for most of the women of her society. This is because she knows that nothing will change if they don't change it. If women continued to submit to men, then nothing would have ever changed. I can agree with that. If women didn't change it, it would definitely be the same. But at times I feel that she can be a little bit harsh to the women of her time. It would have been hard to be a women then, even without rebelling.
Then, take George Eliot, or the actual person if you will, Mary Anne Evans. Her writings could very well indicate that she had a need to evade the identification of her sex. Whether this is true or not, it is true that she struggled with her respect for women as well. How could she respect a woman for totally submitting to men, when it is that very structure of society that made her life so hard, and put many unnecessary obstacles in her way?
I empathize.
But I don't want to be angry at women for unconsciously falling into stereotypes that are detrimental to the advancement of our sex.
There are the extremes on both sides.
There are those who hate everything "female" and there are those who don't challenge the boundaries in any way.

If living in the norm works for you, if it makes you happy to be a stay at home mom, to cook and clean, to raise children, to rely on your husband to provide for you, then okay. Good for you for finding what makes you happy in life.
It is the lack of education that gets to me. I want every woman to have the opportunity to go to college. Be informed. Expand your interests. Have a full life. But I won't look down on you for not going to college either. I understand the difficulties tied to that. The point is that I can't respect ignorance, much less willing ignorance. I just can't.
But telling a stay at home mom that she is not living to her full potential is much worse. I can't respect women who do that either.

I know that most people think that feminism, actual feminism... you know--the kind that "made a difference", is a thing of the past. That feminists now are just whiny bitches that think they are entitled, or better than men. Most people don't see the point of it anymore.
They don't see first hand how women are treated. That we are often seen as sexual objects regardless of how we dress. That we get paid less. That our bosses, our professors, don't listen to us as much as men. That people are still allowed to categorize tasks as male or female.
All of it.
All of it hurts. It is detrimental.
I don't like hearing that I should cook or clean. If two people live in a house together, regardless of sex, the tasks should be divided equally. Ok. If one person works, then maybe the other does a bit more housework. That makes sense.
But what if I am the one with the job?
Do I really have to cook, clean, take care of the kids, AND support the family?
I feel like that is what is expected of working mothers.
And I also feel like this is a stereotype that is enforced by many women. Not just men.

Where do I find that happy middle ground of being able to respectfully disagree with women... without being angry or annoyed that their actions inadvertently affect me?

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

I learned a new word today...

Polysemiotic.
Closely related to polysemantic.
Polysemantic is lexical ambiguity. It is having multiple meaning of a word. Or something like that...
But Polysemiotic, as I read today, was used to describe the sequence of an ambiguous narrative. I guess that is almost the same as lexical ambiguity. Right?
Well, anyway, I like it.
It kind of plays out like life.
There are many different ways to read the story.
Each way may have a totally new meaning.
Each person who views it will see something completely different.
The order doesn't have to make sense.
It is confusing.
And only the person (or in the case of life, that would be God) who created it knows what it really means. Only that one person knows every little detail.

I also had tea and fairy cakes with a couple of adorable ladies who joined our art discussion tonight who came over from the other side of the pond... they attend an university near Bristol, and shared their current projects with fantastic accents and colloquialisms.
It kind of made me want to be British so that I could join in their "salons" and have important discussions over delicious earl gray and pink little sugary cakes.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Feeling better

I decided to NOT go into publishing...
:)
I feel better about that.

I am going to go into the career counselor at school to see what jobs are out there, and see if anything sparks an interest.

But for now, I am just going to be thankful that I have an awesome part time job with benefits and health insurance.

I make enough money to pay my rent and buy groceries... most of the time (and lately with a little help from mom and dad...)

I get to see my boyfriend more often now because our schedules coincide just a little bit more.

I have friends who care about me.

I have an awesome mom who listened to me complain for a half an hour yesterday about not knowing what I want to do with my life, and she made me feel a TON better.

I know my dad will also support me in whatever I choose to do with my life.

And...

I graduate in less than two months!!!
That means at the very least a break from being incredibly busy and stressed out!!
yep,
much better.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

I don't know what I am doing

I feel like I am standing at the edge of a cliff.
Toes hanging off.
Ready to fall.

There is that feeling at the back of my neck. That tingling, numbing, and totally paralyzing effect. I can't see strait. I don't know where else I can go. I can only look down.

What to do?

As I was coming up for a topic for my senior thesis, it hit me...
I don't want to do this.
I have been questioning my life plans and goals lately. Which is normal, since I graduate in a couple months. And I was not really sure that I actually did want to get into publishing.
Now I am sure.
I don't want to go into publishing. English was a ridiculous thing to major in. I have absolutely no real life applicable skills.

I am going to be writing about women and education.
As portrayed by George Eliot.
In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
And how her female characters rely on a benevolent patriarchal figure.
And this is mainly displayed in Middlemarch.
Through the main character's creep obsession with Milton.
And even though I don't think Milton is benevolent,
(I actually think he was a bit misogynistic)
the character views him as such.


And what does this have to do with the real world.
How does my fascination with 17th and 18th century literature and society help anyone?
How would I even be able to make a living off of it without going to grad school, racking up the loans, being stressed out for another five years at least, and then earning a mediocre income?
What have I even learned in school that would prepare me, or even give me the credentials to get any job?
I don't feel like I have any qualifications. Because I don't. Other than being a quick learner and having an interest in EVERYTHING.

The closer I get to graduation and the prospect of finding a "real world" job, the more I am okay with working at a grocery store for the rest of my life.
There is no money in publishing.
I make more now than what I would start out making at many places, if you include my healthcare and benefits.
And that is not even the real reason I don't want to go into publishing anymore.
I just lost interest.

Maybe this is just a bad case of senioritis.

But I just don't even want to look for a job.
I don't even care that I am graduating.
I don't feel like I have really accomplished anything.
Did I set my goals too high?
Did I really have my heart set on grad school?
I need to do something that I am passionate about.

And when I am more passionate about working at a grocery store than I am at the thought of publishing all the books in the world, that makes me rethink some things.


Monday, March 22, 2010

Sculptural books :)

My sculptural book project transformed a few different times during the process.

First, I wanted the overall theme to be something steampunk. Something that was functional. Something that incorporated some sort of flying steam craft or something, and mostly, something with just the overall style.

I wanted to use found books at the base for the project, and I wanted them to tie together the theme.

Turns out is it hard to find steampunk books that are cheap enough to tear apart.
But I did find some cool train books...

So I decided to alter my idea slightly into a sort of version of a pop up book.
and I made a train!

I kinda kept with the steampunk style by fashioni















And this is how it turned out.

The books were supposed to close, but the train is too big.

It's not totally done.
I have to display it for my class, and the sand and little things that I added don't look the best when glued in, so they will be added right before I display it.

So... I think I kinda like it :)

Friday, March 19, 2010

Warning: this post is rambling complaints...

I am ridiculously exhausted physically. Mentally, I am off in my own little world where things don't have to make sense all the time.
Not the best sort of mood to be in during a work day.
I made it through, surprisingly.

So, Wednesday afternoon I went out with a bunch of friends for St. Patrick day. We went to O'Gara's in St. Paul. It was super fun for the first few hours, into the early evening...
We people watched, and had to make fun of the scandalously dresses girls that didn't even look 18, but were slammin down their shots paid for by old greasy men. (Why would you do that to yourself??) It was a gorgeous day, so we spent most of it outside... in clouds of smoke :( That was reason to feel sick number one. Number two was probably the sun, and it being really warm. I drank water, what I though would be enough, but it probably wasn't. We continued drinking beer and talking way to loud, and more and more people showed up as the day went on.
For lunch, which was actually when we got there, we had corned beef and cabbage. I am trying to incorporate more meat into my diet because I hate taking vitamins (and peeing neon yellow) and I have low B12 in my system from not eating enough meat. That being said, I at a delicious hamburger the night before, and was enjoying my very last meal (ever!) of corned beef and cabbage.
Lunch was great, but we stayed there for quite awhile, and I wanted to sober up a little bit more so I could actually enjoy the rest of my day. I didn't want to get hammered (even though it WAS St. Patties day) . SO I switched to just water, and about an hour after that I ate a corn dog... it was that or a regular hotdog available outside of O'Garas. It was a very. very. bad idea.
My boyfriend picked me up shortly after that. I didn't really even feel drunk. But after him and I went grocery shopping (around 7pm) I had to make him pull the car over to throw up that corn dog. Never eating one again. Made it the rest of the way home, trying to figure out if I was actually really drunk, or what the heck was going on...
Still felt sick when we got home, but made myself go to sleep, naively thinking tht I could sleep this off.
Jonathan works overnights, so when he left, I woke up. And I got sick again. This was probably around ten. And I proceeded to puke, almost constantly, until midnight. This is why I will never eat corned beef and (or) cabbage again. Hot dogs, and other questionable meat products are definitely out of the question (as they generally are, unless I am really, really hungry), and eating meat in general is going to be a tough ordeal. I already don't eat chicken because I have thrown it up more than once. I will also never smoke a cigarette or be around that much smoke again. --The next day, when the cable guy came, he smelled like an ash tray and I gagged when I opened the door for him...
I am even taking a break from beer.. Although that also has to do with the fact that I feel extremely weak and I think that even one drink would do me in right about now.
My stomach still hurts from heaving for hours. I know its gross, but I have just never been that sick before, and didn't know that a person could throw up that much, or continue dry heaving when there is absolutely nothing, not even bile, in your stomach anymore.
ish.
So, I didn't sleep much that night. I was scared, to be honest. I was burning up. Dripping with sweat. And freezing. I was dizzy. And I was shaking violently.
One of my uncles came over and slept on the couch so I wouldn't be alone. I had called my parents, and we weren't sure if I should go to the hospital or not, so they called my nearest aunt and uncle so I would be able to go if I needed to. Thank God I didn't. Really. Thank you.
I started to feel better after he got there, which was after midnight. I finally was able to stop dry heaving shortly after that.
But I couldn't sleep. Not really.
I was still burning up.
Still freezing.
My neck hurt like always. Well, actually worse than usual.
But I couldn't take anything for it because if I even took a sip of water, I would puke.
I was wide awake again by six. And I had to be up for the comcast guy at eight. So I just watched a movie.
I already had a doctor appointment scheduled for yesterday. Just a yearly checkup. But also to try and figure out why I keep almost passing out at work and school. (most likely just low blood sugar and nothing to worry about) My doctore decided to run just about every blood test available to rule out everything, so that we know it is not something more serious. And I got to do an EKG... oh doctor stuff. Anyway, they took my blood. Lots of it. And the nurse that did it, didn't really know what she was doing, so she missed once, and then pulled it out too soon the second time, so then she got someone else to come in and get the rest. They continued to use the same arm. And anyone who knows me knows how pale I am and how easily I bruise... today, I look like a junkie tht doesn't care where she shoots up.
It doesn't help that I have not eaten much in the last couple of days, and I think that I must be having a hard time replenishing blood cells, and I also think that I was pretty dang dehydrated after Wednesday night, and probably haven't yet made up for that, so I don't look so hot either. I look like I am either ill or on drugs.
I got a few weird looks today.

I have had this much blood drawn before. Actually many times before.
it seems that everytime I go to the doctor they think that I am anemic.
Last time I went, they decided that I am just pale.
But they seem to have changed back to the anemic way of thinking, even though all ten tests have proved to be of a perfectly healthy individual. (just missing a bit of B12)

But I have never felt this horrible afterward. It must be the combination of being sick and losing blood.
My arm is even still sore.
Well, all of me is sore actually. But the arm hurts the most.

I also feel ridiculously emotional. I almost started crying at work tonight because I couldn't lift a box of bananas, and tiny little Dulce had to do it.
Thats just weird.
I think I just need another good nights sleep, a gallon of water, and lots of veggies :)
(May just have to put off that meat eating thing for a little while)

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Sleeping in the living room

Jonathan and I are moving tomorrow. We are taking a giant leap two blocks down :)
The place it twice the size and it's a house, not an apartment complex. We can't wait!

In the meantime though, we are sleeping in the living room.
I can't believe how much stuff we have! I don't even know how we fit it into this tiny place...
The boxes we packed take up half the living room and the whole of the bedroom, even with the bed leaning up against the wall! Plus all the kitchen stuff is in boxes that cover the kitchen floor...
Oh man. We have too much stuff.
To be fair though, our apartment is tiny, and filling it up with boxes isn't really all that impressive.

When we moved into this place, I was convinced that there was no way we would fit everything that we had. Somehow we did. Somehow we made just enough room so that everything fit. I still am not sure how. It was cramped to be sure, but it was a little cozy.
To be honest, I hated this place. I still hate it. It is tiny, the neighbors are evil, and things go wrong all the time... things like the refrigerator breaking for a month. We were cramped together, and at times didn't get the space that we needed.
It was hard for a first apartment together.
But we made it. :)
Not only that, but I enjoy this random time that I get to spend with him sleeping on the too hard futon, even if our apartment is back up to ninety degrees.
I don't think I can quite describe it. But it reminds me of when we first moved in. When we didn't have a bed yet. When the bedroom looked exactly like it does now, and neither of us had time to unpack because our schedules were so crazy. When we took that big step of deciding to live together. Deciding to spend our lives together.
That is what makes me love this hell hole of an apartment.
Just him :)

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Sometimes...

Sometimes life carries on without me. The days fly by and I don't even take notice of any events. I don't remember what I learned in class today. I don't generally know which day it is.

Last Friday, I asked someone if it was a Monday. They felt bad for me.

Sometimes, when I am half conscious, I feel like I am losing my mind.
A customer asks for a riesling. I give her a white zinfandel.
Her total is $5.75. I say $75.50.

Losing it.

I feel like I ride the bus all day long.

I just zone out, and wait for my stop.

But then I am snapped out of a seemingly endless day dream.
"Gurl, You gonna be my whore. You get on the street and you gotta work it."
(What??)
"Bitch! You hear me! You betta fuckin listen when I talkin to ya! You gonna be my whore! You gonna make me loooots of tham monies. Bitch."
(Please, God, Don't let him be talking to me!)
"You work for me. You don't eat until I tell ya ta eat. You don't sleep until I say ya can sleep! Bitch! Ya hear me?!" He got up at this last part. He stood in the isle. Six feet plus leaning into my seat to scream in my face.
"I heard you. I'm not your whore."
(Someone get this fucker off the bus!)
The bus stops. He loses his balance and sits one seat back on the opposite side of the isle.
I run up front, glaring at the people ignoring the scene.
I tell the bus driver that there is a guy harassing me, he is drunk or high on drugs or something, I say.
No response.
No acknowledgement.
(Well, now. I feel oh so safe.)
As I am already shaking with anger, I hear him find a new victim.
She does not move.
I hope that nothing happens.
"Bitch you looking at me like I black! Don't you know they ain't such thing as black people? You more black than me. Black mean impurity. I ain't impure. I says to that girl she work for me, but I won't fuck her."
She looks away.
"What you lookin away for. You scared of me? You think I gonna rape you? Cuz I would! I would rape YOU bitch. I'd fuck you good."
"Hey! Enough! Back off!"
But why didn't I say that. Why did I freeze up. I hoped to God that some one, any person would have said anything. Just get that guy away from her.
I yelled at the bus driver.
I didn't have the courage (in high heels, without my mace) to confront this man on my own, and no one else was going to either. There were thirty people on that bus. Not a damn person did or said a thing.
I just yelled.
At the bus driver.
I made a scene.
He still didn't acknowledge me.


As soon as the bus got to the U, and there were plenty of people outside, I got off.
I was shaking.
I wanted to hurt that man.
But I couldn't even move.
I couldn't even say a damn word to him.
But I wanted to break his knees.
I wanted to shatter his jaw so that he wouldn't say those things.

Sometimes, I am rageful.
Sometimes, I am timid.
Sometimes, I am both.

Sometimes, I like my daydreams more than real life.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Interview anxiety

I finally have an interview!

It's just for an internship, not a full on job. But that is actually a good thing. I know that the publishing industry is incredibly hard to break into. And I have been on the verge of completely giving it up and looking in a new direction.
But then I got a call.
After tons of rejection e-mails (somehow less disappointing than rejection letters) the place that I wanted to work the most, right here in my own city (well, ok, the one next to it), is the one that calls me in for an interview!
I am thankful that it is an internship position that I am applying for, that it is paid (!), and that it is available for recent graduates. I think that the experience gained in an internship is absolutely necessary to get a full on job in this industry.
That being said, I really hope I get it!

It is not til Tuesday, but I am already preparing... and freaking out!
I have a massive to-do list. And first thing on it--buy new shoes! I have realized that for some reason I don't own a pair of black dress shoes. I never wear heels... and if I do they are funky crazy ones that are so not appropriate for the work place, let alone a Christian company.
I also need a white button up blouse. The suit, I have, thanks to my sister's wonderful Christmas present!
But most importantly (well maybe not most), I need a hair cut! I look like a dirty hippie right now! Seriously.
At my work meeting last night, a few people laughed at the thought of seeing me in a suit! It also added to the humor that I was wearing holy jeans with a thick woven sweater that is generally associated with pot smoking hippies, and my hair all amess because I had been reading Middlemarch all day, and didn't care about my appearance. I like to be comfy :)
At least I got rid of the dreadlocks!

So another thing that I have to do that I am really nervous about is make my portfolio. I have to actually put together my collection of articles in a presentable way.
Does anyone know how I should do this?? Do I cut out the newspaper stories? or just print out the stories? Also, should I include any other writing/editing samples? This is a position for editing, not writing, so I am not sure if I even need all this.
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I'm a bit crazy with all of this!
Luckily, my sister is going to do some mock interviews with me. She is in HR so she gets a kick out of doing stuff like this, while I agonize over it. Really thankful that we are opposites! I think I would be lost without her pushing me along, and answering all of my questions about what the heck I am supposed to do!
I don't think this could have happened at a worse time either (unless it didn't happen at all). Because I have midterms next week. And, well, I am an English major. I am not used to having midterms. I am used to writing papers. Papers papers papers. But now, since I only have one English course, I have midterms. And I have to try this crazy new thing called "studying." Wish me luck!

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

More books

So, I made a few more books. Well, the first one I don't actually have yet. It was a class collaborative book. Really fun! The theme was becoming clear, and I decided to make my section a bit of a depressing opinion on consumerism...
However, a woman that I work with really liked the art that I did for it, So I made her a pretty card, which I do have pictures of!
So that is the card as it opens...








And I am not too sure how I felt about the roses... But I guess they turned out good enough. I had to make 18 copies of these flowers, so instead of trying to paint the same thing 18 times, I just photocopied it and cut it out. That may be why they look a little weird on here, but in person they look kinda neat.


































This rose was my favorite, but I didn't think it fit
to put in a card...















So then, yesterday, I made two decorative books

They are both three signature bindings, which means that they have three separate folds of six sheets each... and three holes to stitch each on in separate. I really enjoyed making these ones!






My next endeavor is to make a sculptural artist book. Sculptural book? What the heck is that? you may want to know... but you will just have to wait... because I have absolutely no idea what I am going to make.