searching for the ineffable
My beloved bought Guitar Hero II. Note the time stamp on this post. And I’m not even into video games much.
It is crack. Also, it’s hell on my left arm, all the way from the forearm to the shoulder.
But oh, the sweet sweet reward for having gotten work done. Dissertation, we have a PLAN.
I was in a relationship some years ago, which ended very, very badly. About half (no more, no less) of the blame for this lies with me.
Every once in a while I’ll go back and read what everyone involved, and not involved, wrote about the break-up. I have no idea why I do it. It’s painful and demoralizing, from two different sides. On one hand, I am still ashamed at how I’d behaved then. On the other, I reel with disbelief at how others behaved – the others who knew me but only heard the other side of the story, and the ones who didn’t know me at all. It’s one thing to support your friend, but I wonder if it ever occurred to any of them that I might be reading their comments, and if it did, whether they gave a damn about the human being who was their target.
Most of this has been resolved for a long time now, both explicitly and implicitly. Even the people I am angriest at, those who didn’t (still don’t) know me, are past. They were knee-jerking, protective of their friend, and also ganging up like children do in the playground. So why do I go back and read things that were written in anger, often by people who’d never met me? Why does this matter?
Most of the time it doesn’t. But I go back to re-read it every once in a while, knowing that it’s neither particularly productive nor good for me. This bothers me.
It is 46 degrees F outside right now. That’s 8C. After sunset, in mid-December. The high to day was 13C (55F). Is this crazy?
Yes, it is, and a good time for a bike ride too. I went out to the East Bay Bike Path, on the other side of the Providence river and then along the bay. It takes a while just to get to the path, maybe forty minutes or so, maybe a bit less. From the ending point on that map, I went roughly 8.5 miiles each way, to Barrington, stopping for coffee and book reading.
20 miles or so, in four hours, including coffee break and strong wind on the way home. Bliss. Hopefully, though, next time I’ll remember to wear the bike shorts.
I’m trying to lose weight, by the way. Not stridently or anything, just by watching for a too-heavy reliance on convenient bread products – balancing them out with proteins, eating more veggies which is just not intuitive for me in the winter, being more conscious of whether I’m hungry or thirsty, as the latter sometimes seems like the former. Oh, and exercising somewhat (not as diligently as I’d like). Lately I’ve noticed a small budge toward the lighter side, but I feel better than I should for losing so little weight. Hopefully this means increased metabolism, and more healthy proportions of nutrients. Just in time to have some hot chocolate with Bailey’s!
I’m so tired of travel.
On Friday I came back from the latest – to Maryland on Tuesday, to give a talk at MITH; and then DC for the Reinvention Center conference. This was my fourth trip in just under two months: the other three were to Nebraska (digital humanities workshop), Fredericton (text-analysis conference) and Chester, Vermont (Readex Digital Institute, which got extensively blogged here). On Tuesday I leave for Chester again, to return on Wednesday after a meeting. This is the blessed last trip for the foreseeable future.
Don’t get me wrong: all the events I went to have been fabulous (see below), and I’m looking forward to going back to Readex. But – and I’ve known this from the start – this is too much travel right now.
The talk at MITH went well. I guess the crowd was a bit diminished compared to their usual; it was election day, and there was a Human-Computer Interaction event precisely coinciding with my talk. Nevertheless, it was a good group, and boy, they really mean it when they call these things “Digital Dialogues.” They jumped right in about five minutes into my talk, and the lively conversation didn’t stop for the next hour and a half or so. I showed the Virtual Humanities Lab and we talked about collaboration, its logistical issues and benefits-vs-drawbacks and ways in which VHL can be made a more friendly collaboration environment. It was great to receive feedback from people not only interested, but way more knowledgeable about the state of the field. It felt easy to be there; they’ve created a great atmosphere both for conversation and for work.
Wednesday I took advantage of MITH’s generous offer to use their “coffeehouse” space for work. That evening I found myself at the downtown Washington hotel where the Reinvention Center conference was to take place in the next two days.
I’ve a ton of notes from that conference. I only got to go because my dissertation director was leading one of the sessions, and asked me to be his session recorder; this way the Center gives a few grad students the opportunity to see what’s going on in research universities around the country, while at the same time getting young’uns to more or less write the proceedings. A more than fair price, I must say.
So I’d been reasonably interested in the conference, but had no idea how useful it would be and how much new information I would get that will be applicable in my near-future work. For one thing, I saw the largest concentration of high-level university administrators that I’ve ever seen before. Not sure what the ratio of administrators (and staff, like librarians) to faculty was, but it felt something like 2:1 or maybe even 3:1, and perhaps 300 people in attendance. (I may be wildly off here. It’s just an estimate.) I’ll have to go over my notes later and perhaps write it up here, if I get to it.
If I get to it. Friday I came back; and yesterday my adored husband took me out for a romantic evening out that stretched well into this morning. I had no idea what we were doing; turned out, we were going to an Ani DiFranco concert. Well, holy shit: I hadn’t been to a concert in a long, long time, and had only seen Ani in concert once. It was a treat. Not only does she rock the the house, but she is touring while quite pregnant, and her happiness with where she is and what she’s doing could be felt all the way at the back bar where we were standing. She had with her a stand-up-bassist and a percussionist with a xylophone and a steel drum and a bunch of other unusual rhythm instruments. Beautiful sound, mostly good crowd, amazing energy.
Then we reconnected over dinner and conversation and general dalliance. This past summer, going into early fall, was difficult for both of us. We both had to reduce and eventually stop taking anti-depressants: welcome to U.S. health care, which left us scrambling for two months (three in Ethan’s case). In the fall we both dove into new work, and have been trying to catch up with each other ever since. Last evening (orchestrated in part by a kind friend – many thanks!) was a badly needed one.
And now… now there’s more work. The final VHL report to the NEH is due at the end of the month. My write-up of our session at the Reinvention Center conference is due at the same time. I’ve got a job app to send out tomorrow, blessedly almost done but still on the to-do list. Tuesday-Wednesday there’s the trip, and my next task for the dissertation is the transcription and encoding of around 600 lines of poetry. Then there’s another fellowship app to get together.
And then there’s the social life, without which Vika gets to be a dull and sad girl. Tonight we were treated by our fabulous housemate to Marie Antoinette the movie, which had an unexpected soundtrack (Aphex Twin!) and was generally not half bad. Monday (tomorrow!) we have a friend visiting. Haven’t seen her in a long long time, so I’m really looking forward to it, and to the inevitable good food associated with the visit.
So what do I do? Instead of getting some sleep I write a long blog entry. Ah well, at least now I have a de facto to do list. There’s more to write about – details of the movie, Sean McMullen’s The Miocene Arrow which I’m enjoying these days, my relationship with the uncertainties of life after May, various anxieties about whether I’ll finish the dissertation in time. But all these can wait. Good night now.
Am just now reading ‘Plain Talk About Plain Speech,’ an article in a recent Inside Higher Ed. This, this is what gives me hope that I may survive in academe. Few things turn me off more about my chosen field than unnecessary jargon. Well, one thing maybe: its unnecessary overvaluation.
If I can continue treating academic speech as, you know, every other form of speech (perhaps of a slightly different register) and still contribute to Knowledge Work(tm), that will rule. If not… well, then I won’t last, and the issue will be irrelevant.
But the reason you might want to read the article is that it’s damn funny.
Sometimes I get sad. Or SAD. Wellbutrin helped last season, and I’m counting on it this season too, but just now…
it’s bedtime.
Things will be better tomorrow.
It’s odd to be this detached from myself, and to feel okay about being sad. Maybe today’s first meeting of a dissertation-writing support group had something to do with it.
right. bedtime.
This looks like way too much fun, and my love is staying up late working, so it was obviously ordained somewhere that I do this. Nevermind that my lower back is killing me, did I mention FUN?
Speaking of hurting backs, here’s a PSA for my throngs of female readers, courtesy of my dear friend, Colleen The Most Amazing Massage Therapist, Like, Ever. Apparently, menstrual back pain happens [at least in part] because the softer tissues in your pelvis get a little looser, presumably so that some day you can dilate. So your whole pelvis gets a little wonky and weak, but there’s still all that weight on it – and so the lower back muscles clench around it, compensating. A little while like that, and misery sets in. You lose a lot of magnesium during that time as well, I’m not sure if it’s a side effect or a cause of the loosening. So if you take magnesium supplements (250mg, as far as I can tell from the web) for a couple of days before your period is due and then every day until you no longer need it, the pain should be greatly reduced or even not rear its ugly head at all.
Now, if only I’d remembered all that this month. Anyway.
1) My mother once: had the most infectious laugh that rang through the echoey woods when we went mushrooming.
2) Never in my life: have I been anywhere in Eastern Europe aside from the USSR, despite living almost at the border with Romania for the first 13 years of my life.
3) When I was five: I was probably still talking about that time when I was four and this cast-iron table fell on my toes and TWO of them BROKE and I had a CAST and would hop to the bathroom every morning, holding on to my dad’s hands as he walked backwards. Seasons changed, and soon we were getting up in the dark – I remember that hallway vividly still.
4) High School was: mostly pretty fun for the first two years in New York (Queens), mostly miserable for the last two years an hour north of Los Angeles. But then, those two years were miserable on many counts, so it’s probably not the high school’s fault. But I never did find my kind of crowd until halfway through college.
5) I will never forget: my dad. I’m very much like him.
6) I once met: Marcello Mastroianni. He came to give a talk at the University of Padova, which is a 20 minutes’ train ride from Venice, where I was studying-abroad. Being a college student, and having freshly found my own skin comfortable, I had no fears and so asked him some questions (albeit after the Q&A was over and people were going home). He was indulgent and wanted to know more about me. He seemed to be amused by the foreigner fan girl. This was about a year before he died.
7) There’s this person I know who: bicycled all across the United States. In fact, there are two of them. And they’re both girls. And they both rock my world.
8) Once, at a bar: I had a Bloody Mary. I was 16 and in Vermont with my brother (11 years older) and his then-company, on a ski trip. This was smack in the middle of a tech bubble. :) Anyway, this wasn’t binge or anything, alcohol was never taboo in my house, he just thought I’d like it. He knows me well; this remains my favorite cocktail.
9) By noon I’m usually: either really pleased with the progress I’ve made so far (on whatever it is, weekend or weekday), or guiltily flogging myself to pick up speed already.
10) Last night: I watched “I, Robot” with Ethan. It didn’t suck.
11) If I only had: money. Lots and lots of money, so that I could found a university and invite all my friends and acquaintances and other cool people who are being mistreated and/or vastly underappreciated by their respective universities. And pay them well, and take them on totally inspirational retreats to see wonders, and give them all ponies. Oh, and the standard: buy mom a house, take care of various debts, travel the world.
12) Next time I go to church/temple: it will probably be a temple in the desert or a regional variation thereof.
13) Terri Schiavo: was a slave.
14) I like: my cat Aki. A lot. In fact, I should post more pictures of him on the internet.
15) When I turn my head left, I see: the window through which Aki has disappeared onto the roof, where he likes to hang out. Yeah, my heart lurches, although it’s not as bad as it used to be; it’s a good training for when we have kids.
16) When I turn my head right, I see: Ethan typing away at his desk, with a still-full bowl of chowder in front of him.
17) You know I’m lying when: I’m lying. I can’t lie to save my life.
18) In grade school: I got more or less perfect grades in everything except sometimes behavior and/or citizenship. I also took all that my die-hard-commie teacher said at face value, and turned into quite a self-righteous little snitch until my parents realized what was going on and fixed it. Sort of. There were many things about social interactions that I learned on my own during that time.
19) If I was a character written by Shakespeare: I’d be Kate. Incidentally, I love the name Kate.
20) By this time next year: I sure as hell hope that dissertation writing is proceeding apace.
21) A better name for me would be: n/a. My name suits me well.
22) I have a hard time understanding: most U.S.-born people.
23) If I ever go back to school I’ll: hahahahaha! You’re funny. Back to school?
24) You know I like you if: I awkwardly try to make light-hearted conversation, and/or I try to feed you.
25) If I won an award, the first person I’d thank would be: that depends on what the award is for.
26) I hope that: all of Ethan’s insane dreams will be realized enough in our lifetime to make for a very, very cool world to live in.
27) Take my advice: or don’t.
28) My ideal breakfast is: cheese. Oh, a real breakfast? These days, eggs and snausages, or Neil Gaiman’s porridge. That stuff’s amazing.
29) A song I love, but do not have is: “Home” by Mashina Vremeni (Time Machine). They’re Russian.
30) If you visit my hometown, I suggest: that you go there in the midst of farmers’ market season and eat your fill of sour cherries. And go to the Valley of the Roses.
31) Tulips, character flaws, microchips & track stars: are all things I do not have. What?!
32) Why won’t anyone: do their goddamn research before posting drivel on the interweb?
33) If you spend the night at my house: Ethan and I will make you an amazing dinner.
34) I’d stop my wedding: if one of my loved ones was hurt or otherwise in enough trouble to need me. Then I’d start it again.
35) The world could do without: willful ignorance.
36) I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: …
37) My favorite blonde is: Colleen. She’s spectacularly blonde. She really is a landmark.
38) Paper clips are more useful than: kiwi fuzz. Why do kiwi fruit have fuzz? It gets all in your teeth and everywhere, and it’s abrasive.
40) And by the way: we went wild mushroom hunting last weekend, brought home like a dozen different varieties, and didn’t poison ourselves.
41) The last time I was drunk, I: n/a. I’ve never been drunk.
42) My grandmother always: loved me, when she knew who I was. Now she can dimly remember, I think.
Impulsively, I’d love to go to this conference on sci-fi and pop culture.
It struck me just now that the reason I want to go is that there’s likely to be excellent storytelling there.
It’s getting cooler in Providence, where we returned from a three-week road trip this past Friday. The ostensible reason for the journey out west was Burning Man; a couple of family visits all over the country (Saint Louis and somewhere near Grass Valley, California) and a visit to friends in Santa Rosa were in order as well, so renting a car made sense. It turned out to be convenient and fun; Ethan and I both enjoyed our second road trip as a couple, counting the honeymoon a few months ago.
Burning Man was… well, most of all it was satisfying. Even though I didn’t get to see nearly as much of the city as I’d wanted, nor participate in as many events: all of the good intentions of starting each day with yoga somewhere on the playa kind of went to hell. But being part of Foodlab, a camp that made a hot sunset meal for about 130 people every day for the week, was solidly rewarding as a community-building exercise.
At least, it was rewarding until the end, when only 8 or so of the 37 people in the camp ended up breaking it down, a long and often tedious and unpleasant process rife with snarky comments from exhausted burners feeling a bit bitter at having been left all alone to deal with the final mess. Still, given the kind of camp we were (much trash to truck out, many supplies to account for), we only left about 4 hours later than intended. It could’ve been worse, and I’m glad we stayed and thankful for the work and ultimate mutual support of the breakdown crew.
It’s been a little unsettling to get anonymous and not-so-anonymous snide comments about what went wrong in Foodlab this year. My impression remains that Foodlab had a good year, and this is corroborated by the glowing thanks we’ve received from several people who ate with us but weren’t privy to the inner workings. *shrugs* I just hope that discussion of what to do better next time doesn’t occlude the warmth and laughter we gathered and fed every evening.
When we weren’t busy at Foodlab or hanging out with friends, Ethan and I carved out a few times to be together. The first of those was on Thursday, as we attended our friends Bucky and Emily’s colorful wedding at the clockworks. The afternoon was filled with gorgeous clothes, scorching sun and not one but four ice cream cakes, rock-hard from the flash freezing and being stored in dry ice! Talk about a treat, in the desert.
We puttered about the city a couple of times, returning to the Center Camp Café on Tuesday to revisit the morningtime conversations and coffee that kept us in thrall of each other at the 2003 Burning Man, where we met. On Sunday, we went to the temple burn together, intending to make a late night of it; but a convoluted set of events left us looking for my bike in a nascent dust storm, in which I ended up losing Ethan and never finding the bike. A couple of solid hours of wandering the playa left me exhausted and so covered in pale-brown alkali dust that my campmates didn’t recognize me when I walked into camp looking for my husband who of course wasn’t there. We finally reunited, fell into a deep sleep and broke down the camp the following morning. An anticlimactic ending to our burn, perhaps, but an adventure that now provokes more smiles than rue.
And so, after all the busy-ness and bonding time with Ethan, after the freedom of merely existing in Black Rock City, I kind of felt that I hadn’t emotionally connected with anyone new, not deeply or satisfyingly. There’d been a few meaningful conversations, a couple of great first meetings, one entire night spent talking with some campmates, but in all of that was this insidious distance. By the end of the week my haptic interface was twitching all through my muscles – I hadn’t had prolonged tactile contact with anyone besides Ethan in many days, and in an intensely emotionally open environment at that. This made for an unsettled and thoughtful state, which wasn’t unpleasant but was a bit isolating, [because it|and] took up many thought cycles.
So it was surprising and very cool to find myself having revelatory conversations with N., a longtime friend of Ethan’s from back in Colorado, who has been studying Tibetan Buddhism for several years now and was on his way to New York. I haven’t processed all of what we talked about yet, but the introspectiveness triggered by Burning Man and the desire to once again hermit myself and do a few things well this coming year were kindled by the talks, which took place at all hours (we did the trip straight through, with two stops for sleep and a few more for rest and breakfast and what not).
Ethan and I dropped N. off on Friday morning and headed to Providence, physically tired but agian deep in conversation. Somewhat unexpectedly, we turned to topics that ended up solidifying and concretizing our relationship, even more so than it had been already – a sort of culmination of the two years during which we’ve come to know each other and see a future together.
So the unsettled feeling that I had previously been baffled by, the one that felt like loneliness in the midst of a full life happily building a family, probably wasn’t loneliness after all. It now feels like a restlessness, a desire to move forward and again to deepen my relationship to my love and to my world. Suddenly we’ve seen the path we both want to take in developing our selves together. If the past two years are any indication, the next few will be distilled eye-opening joy.
Tomorrow I go to work. Can’t wait, actually. There’s a lot to do, and I finally feel rested enough to do it well. Welcome home.
My ability to be articulate (comprehensible and to the point) is heavily dependent on my physical state at the moment. Specifically, whether I’ve gotten enough sleep.
It’s disheartening and makes me lose entire days in sadness and feelings of inadequacy. That these feelings are irrational, and that generally making a fool of myself is never an entirely bad thing – learning experiences and all that – doesn’t make any difference. Any.
Some days are just sad. I wish these waves weren’t so all-consuming. Yes, thank you, I’d love some cheese with that whine.
