I had drinks with a friend after a long seminar tonight, and for the first time in a while, I didn't stagger to my car exhausted and then sit in traffic for 90 minutes (that's right, it takes me 90 minutes to go 11 miles #LosAngeles) and then collapse for an hour and then go back to work for another 3 hours before crawling into bed (I am taking too many classes this quarter). Instead, I had two glasses of wine and a little dinner, and I got to talk to a great person who is willing to share a lot of knowledge with me as well as some genuine pleasantness. It reminded me of the olden days when my social life and my academic life were centered around the same place and task, and it lightened the load quite a bit.
That moment of levity at the end of the day. Ah. We need it. No reading. No striving. No obligations. The wine or cocktail is key. You're always pausing when you have a drink. You're being a little bad. You're working against your evening productiv…
I've noticed a phenomenon in many areas of my verbal life wherein the phrase "I don't know" opens, closes, or rests in the middle of a phrase. The more I listen for it, the more I am struck by its ubiquity, yet these phrases have nothing to do with the parameters of the speaker's knowledge.
In a seminar: "I don't know, but I think he's saying..."
Among friends discussing the news: "Um, I don't know, but I feel like this could have been avoided..."
Two girls shopping: "Is this cute? Right? I don't know."
Some guys on a walk: "I mean, I don't know, but was that the best choice..."
High school students in class: "I don't know, but don't you kind of feel like..."
Are we really so tentative? Is our own knowledge so slippery that we cannot be certain of our opinions? Do we doubt our own knowledge, we who may spend about 15-20 years of our lives in full-time, formal education or many ho…
Finals weeks are misery for me. Sometimes I catch a wave of inspiration and weep into my keyboard, but those moments are rare. I am not having one yet this time around. I took too many classes this quarter and thus couldn't start my papers until it was too late to wait around for Muses. And when I say I took too many classes that is not a request for applause at my ambition. It was a mistake. A mistake that reflects how desperate I am to be finished with my coursework so I can move on to Dante and do some real thinking that is not geared toward a 3AM slapdash 25 page paper. And hopefully then this program will become enjoyable for me and not a daily reminder of the huge mistake I made deciding to go here.
As I have been trying to piece together a Boccaccio paper over the past three days, I've spent way more time on the internet than I normally do. Especially Vogue, a publication I used to read regularly and haven't honestly read in several years. I watched a bunch…