Quodlibets

It's kinda fun. I found

It's kinda fun. I found it at this blog. It's very short, and there's one for both the girl in question to take, and for her partner, or friend, or whoever so chooses......

Which Girl Are You?

For lack of anything else

For lack of anything else to blog on, here is a complete list of the things on our coffee table:

• Ren and Stimpy, Seasons 1 and 2. I don't like Ren and Stimpy. I hate it, in fact. But S loves it and he bought it and brought it here.
• My library class stuff. Notebook, textbook, and seven printed articles for class.
• 2 nail files.
• OPI top coat and base coat.
• Nail clippers.
• A cotton cleaning pad with some nail polish remover on it. (I did my nails the other night.)
• My health insurance card.
• A sewing needle.
• A natural-wood pencil that I use to balance my checkbook.
• My rings. I take all three off to type my blog entries.
• "An Innocent in Scotland" by David McFadden. My lackluster reading choice of the moment. Not so good.
• The TV and DVD-player remotes.
• A black Sharpie.
• A business card from a store called "The Wine Seller" in my hometown. The owner is ordering a case of wine for my mom and I (my dad will take some bottles too).
• Dust-off. We clean our computers with it.
• Our cheap IKEA coasters. Love 'em.
• This Powerbook. I can't say enough for Apple computers. I love this computer and would happily recommend it to anyone who is looking for a laptop.
• Black dirt marks. When I put my feet up after a long day of walking around in flip-flops, the dirt sometimes rubs off on the table. But if you use the Magic Eraser on the dirt, it comes clean instantly.

So there it is. Maybe completely uninteresting, but sometimes I find these list-type things compelling. Perhaps it is the voyeur in all of us that wants to find out what people carry around. Maybe it says something about S and I. Or maybe about our cleaning habits. I don't know. If you'd like to comment and say what's on your desk/table/counter, I'd like to know.

That's pretty much how I

That's pretty much how I feel about this debate. I think the horse is dead, guys. You can stop flogging it now.

I've actually been having a very fun political exchange with my cousin. He has some interesting ideas about the whole shabang, and since he's kind of new (and that's okay) to the game, I find it really interesting to talk to him about it. I mean, my sister and I are so mired in the muck (in fact, she tuned out, and I wasn't much better on watching) that I think both of us are a bit fatigued by the election. Almost everyone I know is already heavily invested in the election. The few people who aren't are either uninterested/uninteresting. It's nice to have a discussion without anger involved. Okay, that's not fair. I'm angry constantly. (In the car tonight, on the way to drop my sis off at home, we had the beginning of the debbate on and my sister was getting mad. I mean, the moderator was talking, and she was getting angry. But I get it, because I feel sort of the same way.) I just mean that for some reason, the conversation I'm having with my cousin is somehow not as bitter. Or, because it's being conducted on email, I can't tell that he's bitter. Maybe that's the difference.

I'm going to stop talking about politics though. I really am. I'm going to make a concerted effort to not get so worked up. It's almost over, and unless anything else exciting happens, the next time I blog will be election day. Then I'm going to blog until I'm red, white and blue in the face.

I thought maybe it was

I thought maybe it was just this town, because everyone here is snobby. But no. Three times now, I've gone into a town's library (three different towns) and been given the short "oh" of someone who thinks they're superior.
Because of the books I've been asking for at reference desks across the suburbs, I am apparently recognizeable as a library student. Most of the librarians smile happily when I tell them yes, but things then go downhill, because the librarian inevitably asks: "At Dominican?" And the answer is no; I tell them where I am going to school (a community college), and get that "short oh".
As if I didn't feel crappy enough about this! As if I wouldn't rather be at a University somewhere anywhere getting my MLS. But I fucked that up, so I'm trying to make the best of this, and let me tell you, the ladies in my chosen profession aren't making that any easier. I'm sure not all librarians are snobs. Just the ones I come in contact with.
If I wasn't smarter, I'd think someone is trying to rub my nose in the fact that I didn't get into grad school. It's depressing.

the blogosphere this evening I

the blogosphere this evening I came across something that hit me really hard. (I often surf the blogrolls of blogs I enjoy; you never know what you are going to find. Tonight was actually the first time I surfed the blogs on Bitch Ph.D., which is odd, because I read it a lot.)

I have this insane thing about waiting. 10 minutes late, and I think you're dead in a ditch. Or do I? I think it's entirely possible that I think that you're dead, but I'm not scared for your safety, I'm scared of being abandoned. (Which, in effect, is mostly why we fear death, isn't it?) I live in this sort of half-terror/half-rational zone; I fear S dying before me, and leaving me here alone. And here is another part of that: in my past relationship, at the break-up, I was certain no one would ever love me again. If S and I broke up, I feel this sense of depression, because I think I will never love anyone again. No matter how untrue that is; no matter how true that is.

But I digress. If S did abandon (and I feel certainly awful that I would view it this way) me, I feel like I would be alone. No matter how untrue that is; it is certainly untrue. Even if the wait is 10 minutes, I feel scared and uneasy. Scared that the person may not be coming for me, and uneasy that I might deserve that treatment. I feel that way about almost everyone. It's not a lack of trust in them, you understand, but a lack of trust in myself. And I am almost never late if I can help it, and in fact prefer being early, probably because I cannot imagine abandoning anyone. Ever. If I'm late, it's only due to the fact that S is chronically late. I'm continually trying new tricks to get him out the door, few (if any) of which ever work. It's a clash-clash situation.

I'm pretty sure he has no idea how deep-rooted my fears are. I'm pretty sure I don't have any idea of how deep-rooted my fears are. In fact, this whole thing occured to me about twenty minutes ago.

I'm pretty sure I need a therapist. (I actually just typed "therapost" which pretty much describes it, doesn't it?)

Well, I don't have strep

Well, I don't have strep throat. My body didn't morph the cold into a more serious infection, which is surprising and comforting. I'm still not feeling good, but I'm relieved to know I'm not sicker. And thank god, no antibiotics.
But you know the cliche--woman gets sick and house gets messier? It happened. Sort of. It's certainly not clean. The kitchen has layers of crumbs that go back DAYS. I think, though, that if S and I had been home more this weekend, I could have prevailed, and he would have ended up cleaning more. As it is, he made me macaroni and cheese, he cleaned all the pots and pans from that, he drove me home from Indiana, and basically did almost anything I really needed him to. He's fantastic in that way. I like being taken care of when sick (no snickering, moodge) and S seems willing to do that for me. I couldn't ask for more.
Now I'm thinking about the piles of homework I have to do. I think I'll do it tomorrow and Wednesday, because I just can't face it. And for those of you who know what I've been doing in the past year, I have to interview a damn librarian AGAIN. I've done it once, and let me tell you, these ladies do not like to be interviewed. I think I'm just going to do it over email, because I just can't face it again. In fact, most of my homework just feels silly. It takes forever to do, but it's just really busy work. I feel like I'm not learning very much. I hope it gets better, or I'll be a clueless librarian in a year.

But, I don't. And I'm

But, I don't. And I'm sick. Pretty bad today--my throat might be hurting more today than yesterday. I didn't blog yesterday because I felt like death, and I had to go see Bill Cosby. This sickness could not have come at a worse time. I have the alumnae panel at SMC this afternoon, so no hope of rest for me. I've had to draft S into going, which I didn't want to do. But I'm worried about my ability to drive home after the panel, so I'd like someone with me. One of my other friends was going to go, but she had a little problem come up, which is okay. But poor S. He really didn't want to go. But I really don't feel up to driving 5 hours by myself. The panel itself should be interesting. If I can keep myself from blowing my nose and sniffing every five minutes, it will be a success.

I also just wanted to blog on something really exciting for me. One of my favorite (and sadly, most expensive) stores is opening in Chicago, finally. It's called Lush, and for those of you who know it, you will understand how exciting it really is. And if you don't know it, I'll try to explain it quickly. Lush makes the most amazingly wonderful bath products. They're almost all natural (something like 65% of them are preservative free, and something like 70% of them are vegan) vegetarian soaps and shampoos, deodorants, bath bars, bubble bars, lotions, shower gels....etc. They're wonderful products, made by hand. I think Lush started in England, and really, it had expanded all over the world, with the US being the last place it has expanded to. I mean, they're in the Middle East, in Japan, in Africa (I think), and finally! they're in the US. Of course, they've been in the US for a while, but only in CA and NY. I've made a couple trips to Lush all over--at Covent Garden in London, at Campo del Fiore in Rome, and at Union Square in San Francisco. Finally, though, I can take a short trip downtown and get the best shampoo in the world (though, to my everlasting chagrin, they've stopped making my absolute fave, antiphiltron.).

I didn't think it was

I didn't think it was possible, but Bush has succeeded in alienating me even more than I was alienated before. How can a man stand on stage as the President of the United States and basically say that he doesn't represent all Americans? I really respect Kerry for making it clear that even though he is a Christian, he won't impose faith-based decisions on the American people. I want to grab GW and shake him, and tell him that not all of the people in the United States are Christians. I want to scream at him for trying to take away my rights simply because his faith isn't the same as mine. S always gets steamed about the gay marriage debate, because the ONLY thing that makes someone believe gay marriage is wrong is religion. How else can that argument be framed but religiously?
So S thinks that whether or not you believe in gay marriage, you have to believe that the government has absolutely NO right to insert RELIGION into the CONSTITUTION. In addition, S also thinks that whether or not you call it gay "marriage", everyone deserves the same rights. I hate GW for denying rights to anyone. And for what? For a belief system that does not exist universally. I'm hoping that every non-Christian in this country goes out and votes for Kerry on November 2nd, because if they don't, they're electing a man who refuses (REFUSES!!!) to represent them.

GRRRRR. I'm angry.

I have this confession to

I have this confession to make. It's not as life-shattering as my sister's tattoo confession, but it's kind of this really quirky habit I've picked up. I was surfing blogs one night, and usually when I do that, I find nothing of interest. On this particular night, though, I found a blog I found interesting. Actually, a whole group of blogs I find interesting; I'm not sure what to call them but what they are: infertility blogs. This group of women (and even a couple of men) have started/maintained blogs about their fertility issues. Some write about their failed procedures, their adoptions, their heartbreaking failure to conceive. One women wrote a blog entry the day she found out that the child she was carrying had died inside of her, about halfway through the pregnancy. I don't have to explain how emotional these blogs can get; I'm sure you can imagine.

Here's the thing: I'm pretty sure I don't want kids. I don't see myself raising kids. It's just not something I'm looking for. Or forward to. But something within me just likes reading these blogs. And I don't even have any reason to suppose I'd be infertile; my mom was crazy fertile. She basically got pregnant exactly when she wanted to. No effort. So here's the question: why do I like reading these blogs so much? I don't have an answer. I've discovered some amazing sites this way, though, just through links. People who blog link to their friends' blogs, and some of them are fantastic. Maybe I think that people who are able to blog about such an emotional thing as infertility have some sort of strength...and so their contacts will. Maybe their lives can take on meanings that ours often do not. I don't know.
**************
As much as that seems the purpose of this post, it really wasn't. While clicking through some links that I found through a link on one of the infertility blogs, I found this site. I like it. I like the idea of the Wednesday Mind Hump (just look at the site; it's not dirty, I promise). I like questionnaires and quizzes. I like divulging personal information. Always have. Occasionally I might start using the Wednesday Mind Hump in my blog, but as much as I want to do it today, on Thursday, I just can't. I'll just have to wait until next Wednesday. (It's suddenly struck me that the Mind Hump might be perfect for procrastination, which is a necessity on laundry/homework day.)

BTW
I don't link to the infertility sites, because it is such a community, a community that I have no right to be a part of, that I find the idea kind of disrespectful. But if you are really interested, let me know, somehow, and I'll send you some links.

Alright, I'm gonna be honest.

Alright, I'm gonna be honest. Today is a day of humdrum domesticity and homework, and I find thinking abstractly a bit beyond my scope. My first load of laundry is in the washer, and my binder is sitting next to me waiting to be opened. However, I chose to blog. Typical procrastination. Anyway, in no specific order, here are some things I can't stop thinking about:

• Indian food. Yeah, I'm thinking about naan and paneer butter masala. I'd rather eat those two things than anything else right now, but a trip to THE place to get Indian is a production, and requires some planning. If only I were my friend T, or my friend A, because they both live really close to the restaurant, and could even order it out. Jealousy doens't begin to describe the anguish.
• Seeing A Beautiful Mind again. I saw it once a while ago, and it was incredibly hard to watch, but good. Now I'm reading the book, by Sylvia Nasar, and thinking that I'll need to see the movie again. I'm not too far into the book, but already it bears only a slight resemblence to the movie--to make Nash's story into a movie, much had to be cut out. It's a shame, because he is a very interesting man.
• Sex and the City. A high school friend of mine called last night during the VP debate, and said she was watching Sex/City instead of the debate. "Being Frivolous" she called it. Any mention of watching that show is enough to make me want to pull out all six box sets and watch again. In order. I'm considering it, though I think S won't be so tolerant of it this time. I may have to do it when he's not home.
• My new pink Nalgene bottle. I couldn't resist. I went to Galyan's yesterday to get some yoga/workout pants, and spotted the sale on Nalgene bottles. I considered buying another grey one for S, or another red one for myself, but couldn't look away from the pink one. It even has a pink top! And a flowery-lookin' thing on the side. It's like (and this is sad and pathetic) a Barbie Nalgene. But it was on sale. And I like it.

I could go on forever. I'm trying to do anything but homework. My thoughts are getting more trivial by the minute, however, so I'll stop blogging now, and do the laundry, (Boooo!) and my homework (Boooo!).