reflections
I woke up at 12:40 this afternoon. It is now 3:26 and I only just finished getting dressed. It took a long time to motivate myself. Eating a muffin set me back considerably.
Sensible grocery shopping (soup, mac 'n' cheese, things in general that preserve well) has kept me from needing to go grocery shopping often. As a result, I do not cook and I think my mother is afraid she did a poor job of raising me.
I feel obligated to be concerned about my health, so I bought one-a-day-for-folks-with-vaginas vitamins. They are large and pale yellow. The color makes me wary. It says, "We are drugs. And you cannot be certain that we are benevolent!"
I apparently identify too much with white, middle-class Americans. Who'd have thought? This is a social stigma, however. It is having a rather un-positive impact on my reputation in my class. I also traumatized a roomful of innocent comparative literature students when I brought up the fact that a violent first sexual experience is physically traumatic regardless of social views of sex. They did not get it until my professor gently explained, "It is like when the little boys are anally penetrated for the first time."
I find myself angry and jealous about things and people I never thought I'd be angry or jealous about. It's a curious feeling, and not particularly welcome.
I drink a lot of tea. With honey. The honey is my dirty little secret.
I feel like it is unjust that I have to go over every speed bump in my apartment complex just to get home. Inside, home is cold. Western Mass is nefarious, see.
I wonder sometimes what happened to all the good self-esteem I developed in Paris. Then I remember that I gained the weight back and promises were broken and things are different.
I want. I am a being of wanting, longing, and desiring. Let's talk about futility.
I am strongly considering cutting all my hair off, as I have been known to do in the past.
I have serious problems with most Disney movies and get righteously angry when looking at the pictures in my Disney princesses coloring books. However, coloring in them always makes me feel a little better when I'm depressed. It's just not fair. Furthermore, I fear being a hypocrite.
Disney has ruined me for all men because I feel that men should be able to sweep me off my feet and carry me like they do in movies. In real life, I'd break any man's back by mistake. I'd also get uppity about the implications or whatever.
I fear that I am a bad feminist. I have a hard time reconciling what I want with what I want to want and what I don't want.
I want to get the HPV vaccine, but my insurance is shit and never covers anything relating to women's health/sexual health. I should call and ask, but I feel a certain resignation.
I feel like all women should get the HPV vaccine. This makes me a cynic, because I include girls who have no desire to be sexually active, or are waiting till marriage, or are already married in that list of people who should get it. My reasoning is rape. I hate that I think that way, that we have a society that gives me reason to think that way.
I still can't get a hold of my thesis committee chair so I can't actually register for my thesis. I wish I could just drop it, but that's not an option.
I spent most of this afternoon looking at NYC apartment listings on Craigslist, for no real reason. I found one in Inwood/Washington Heights that I'm in love with. Very reasonably priced, beautiful in the pictures, and full of exposed brick walls. I wish this was May.
I am negligent with my car tire pressures.
I want to horde garden gnomes. They have tons of new ones at Faces and I love them. Instead I bought other silly things.
Everywhere is selling bathing suits. This makes me want to go on vacation. Somewhere tropical, to lay on the beach and swim and just hide out. I want to travel and experience the world, there's no doubt about that. But sometimes I just want to get away, not have life changing experiences. I think this makes me shallow.
I am too self-conscious, in many senses. I am wildly pretentious.
My toes are very cold.
I'm going to do my final bit of homework, because if I do that I can get into bed and cuddle with my Paris teddy bear and read some David Eddings. It's like Ben & Jerry's, but not so cold and not so caloric. You know how thatin thpotth when it getth wet.
I get far too anxious about trying to come up with a really good last sentence for my LJ posts. I feel like I should go out with a bang, but my anxiety always gets in the way.
Fin.
Sensible grocery shopping (soup, mac 'n' cheese, things in general that preserve well) has kept me from needing to go grocery shopping often. As a result, I do not cook and I think my mother is afraid she did a poor job of raising me.
I feel obligated to be concerned about my health, so I bought one-a-day-for-folks-with-vaginas vitamins. They are large and pale yellow. The color makes me wary. It says, "We are drugs. And you cannot be certain that we are benevolent!"
I apparently identify too much with white, middle-class Americans. Who'd have thought? This is a social stigma, however. It is having a rather un-positive impact on my reputation in my class. I also traumatized a roomful of innocent comparative literature students when I brought up the fact that a violent first sexual experience is physically traumatic regardless of social views of sex. They did not get it until my professor gently explained, "It is like when the little boys are anally penetrated for the first time."
I find myself angry and jealous about things and people I never thought I'd be angry or jealous about. It's a curious feeling, and not particularly welcome.
I drink a lot of tea. With honey. The honey is my dirty little secret.
I feel like it is unjust that I have to go over every speed bump in my apartment complex just to get home. Inside, home is cold. Western Mass is nefarious, see.
I wonder sometimes what happened to all the good self-esteem I developed in Paris. Then I remember that I gained the weight back and promises were broken and things are different.
I want. I am a being of wanting, longing, and desiring. Let's talk about futility.
I am strongly considering cutting all my hair off, as I have been known to do in the past.
I have serious problems with most Disney movies and get righteously angry when looking at the pictures in my Disney princesses coloring books. However, coloring in them always makes me feel a little better when I'm depressed. It's just not fair. Furthermore, I fear being a hypocrite.
Disney has ruined me for all men because I feel that men should be able to sweep me off my feet and carry me like they do in movies. In real life, I'd break any man's back by mistake. I'd also get uppity about the implications or whatever.
I fear that I am a bad feminist. I have a hard time reconciling what I want with what I want to want and what I don't want.
I want to get the HPV vaccine, but my insurance is shit and never covers anything relating to women's health/sexual health. I should call and ask, but I feel a certain resignation.
I feel like all women should get the HPV vaccine. This makes me a cynic, because I include girls who have no desire to be sexually active, or are waiting till marriage, or are already married in that list of people who should get it. My reasoning is rape. I hate that I think that way, that we have a society that gives me reason to think that way.
I still can't get a hold of my thesis committee chair so I can't actually register for my thesis. I wish I could just drop it, but that's not an option.
I spent most of this afternoon looking at NYC apartment listings on Craigslist, for no real reason. I found one in Inwood/Washington Heights that I'm in love with. Very reasonably priced, beautiful in the pictures, and full of exposed brick walls. I wish this was May.
I am negligent with my car tire pressures.
I want to horde garden gnomes. They have tons of new ones at Faces and I love them. Instead I bought other silly things.
Everywhere is selling bathing suits. This makes me want to go on vacation. Somewhere tropical, to lay on the beach and swim and just hide out. I want to travel and experience the world, there's no doubt about that. But sometimes I just want to get away, not have life changing experiences. I think this makes me shallow.
I am too self-conscious, in many senses. I am wildly pretentious.
My toes are very cold.
I'm going to do my final bit of homework, because if I do that I can get into bed and cuddle with my Paris teddy bear and read some David Eddings. It's like Ben & Jerry's, but not so cold and not so caloric. You know how thatin thpotth when it getth wet.
I get far too anxious about trying to come up with a really good last sentence for my LJ posts. I feel like I should go out with a bang, but my anxiety always gets in the way.
Fin.