Wednesday, March 31, 2010


My favorite part of my MLA SoP:
"I ultimately hope to earn my Ph.D in English literature and teach at the university level. I enjoy the idea of giving students the tools to view their lives from a different perspective, to show them that the humanities are, ultimately, a study of culture and society, just as literature is a reflection of these ideas."

Sunday, March 28, 2010


I also wanted to write about the good of this day, to document it, but it doesn't fit in the other post, so I'll put it here.

Today, after my wail fest, I splashed some water on my face to try and make myself feel like I was Taking Care Of Things. I put on my favorite paisley dress, the one that makes me feel like I'm right out of the 60's with its smocked top and crazy print and it's just-a-few-inches-too-long billowy skirt and halter straps. I paired it with a cardigan, au natural hair (except for flat ironed bangs) and a generous streaking of black eyeliner and I got in the car and "Sun King came on my iPod and I felt pretty and warm and okay with myself for a little while. I ate chocolate peanut butter out of a paper cup as we shopped for groceries and we bought some brie and planned meals and came home and I cooked lentil soup and roasted vegetables, with harissa because I know he likes it and I hardly ever use it. We ate on the couch and the cats snuggled with us and it felt like everything was still okay.

your arms around my shoulder blades are useless

So that hair color thing only partially worked. The hair is a little darker but not much. It looks fine though. I also snipped my bangs with some manicure scissors.

It's becoming more difficult to deal with the prospect of breaking up. More and more often, I find myself crying uncontrollably. Today, R and I were lying around and laughing and it occurred to me that we only have 5 or 6 more Sundays like this, lying in bed together, being lazy and cooking late dinners. That's how I've been framing everything in my mind lately--time. I'm mentally crossing off days on the calendar that ends in some hazy point "around May or June." Every car ride, every kiss, every moment is something I can't help but put in my mind as "one of the last."

I try to be cheerful about it, accept it that it's going to happen and I'm fine when others are around but when it's just he and I, I have a hard time controlling my emotions. I just start crying and it's as though everything inside of me shrinks up, huddling up to ride it out--shrinking, disappearing. I know it's hard for him when I lose control like that and I don't want it to be, but I guess I also want some show of emotion too. I want to know that it matters to him that this is the end, that he's sad too, that some part of him hates this as much as I do. I guess I want to know I matter, even though I still feel like I don't matter enough for him to try and make it work. So I get sad and angry and spiteful, because all this just feels so fucking empty right now, playing out the end of this relationship. It just feel like such a throwaway, two people who love each other ending a relationship because staying together is no longer convenient.

That's kind of unfair of me, since I know he wants to go to UTA, but that's still how it feels to me--that I wasn't worth a compromise, that WE weren't worth a compromise. And I guess that's what kills me the most, because there's something pretty heartbreaking abut sharing your life with someone, day in and day out, for three years and feeling like it just didn't matter.

But I can't blame R for everything, because I'm just as unwilling to pack up my life and move to Austin with no opportunities there. I still maintain that he has (had?) more options than I did and could have gone to school in a city where I was able to go, but he won't and I'm not willing to make a compromise that large. So, I'm trying to just accept that this is happening and not be too angry with him or myself.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

color wheel

I just finished dying my hair. Something about making this little change makes me feel more equipped to deal with bigger changes. I just hope it doesn't look terrible.

Monday, March 22, 2010

big things, big people

Yesterday, healthcare reform finally passed the House. I'm excited for it, happy for those people who don't have to worry about losing their insurance, happy for parents with sick kids who can get those kids insured, ecstatic for the millions who have a fighting chance now.

That's where my mind goes when I hear, from the conservative side, that "healthcare is a privilege, not a right." I won't even get into all of the absurdity behind that kind of "reasoning" but I will say this. People who can so casually dismiss the needs of others, who wonder why they have to pay for something bad that happens to someone else...those people are monstrous. I cannot fathom this kind of "fuck you" attitude and I certainly can't respect it or lend any sort of credence to it. I like my money and hate my taxes just as much as anyone, but surely, SURELY, the necessity, the MORAL necessity of these things should be at least somewhat clear?

I fear I'm too earnest sometimes when it comes to these sorts of issues. I disagree with a fair amount that's in the bill myself. I don't think it goes far enough in many arenas, I don't like the split abortion billing that lends itself to the possibility that insurances will stop covering abortions due to billing difficulties, I don't like some of the fee schedule that will be enacted (I work in healthcare and it will affect those patients. I'd elaborate, but I shouldn't, so I won't.). But overall, I am glad that we have this first step, which will hopefully lead to a long path in healthcare reform. (I hope you liked that amazing metaphor. I'm an English graduate.)

On a different note, R and I watched The Straight Story tonight, the 1999 Lynch film. It was a very quiet movie--quietly sad, quietly humorous and quietly respectful. I really enjoyed it. I found it strangely fitting that Richard Farnsworth ended his life after making a movie that dealt so heavily with how a life is lived and how a legacy is created.

Sunday, March 21, 2010


I am on a mission.

That sounds pretty lame. I guess really, I would like to be on a mission. I am trying to be on a mission. If I could get over my near-paralyzing procrastination, bred by a lack of interest in making my life a blank slate, then I could be on a mission. I should probably get on a mission.

The person sitting behind me in this coffee shop is probably writing an IM to a friend right now with a big "wtf" in it.

Right now, I'm in this very quintessential 20-something spot where my entire life is about to be uprooted and I figure, what way to better deal with upheaval than broadcasting it out across the internet? It's therapeutic.

Currently, I'm in the midst of planning out an impending breakup with my boyfriend of almost three years, deciding whether I want to move my life to New Orleans or Chicago (and how I plan to afford either of those options), forcing myself to overcome my not-so-latent fear of change to even finish the University of Chicago graduate school application and, you know, working.

I have about 3 months (give 2 months or take 1) to figure this out. See: procrastination.

I am trying to learn how to move. Then, to pull oneself up by those cliched bootstraps.