It's Like This:
Thursday, May 24, 2007
I have a profound and gigantic paper I need to be writing, but when was the last time I lived my life efficiently? God, I just can't wait for school to be over so I can go back to Oregon and do nothing but ride my bike around and talk about indie rock and be a loser. I think I've had quite enough of this feeling obligated to think in important ways. It's good and all, but Mr. Bach is incredibly uninspiring. Don't tell him that.
I will be the Lit representative for SEPC next term, but only because no one else ran. Hoo-ray. I was hoping it would be a tight race between me and some dick from First Street, and that I would somehow prove my mettle. Oh well. At least I'll get to hang around with M. Feit. all the time.
One of these days I think I might just break down and start living as a man. Not that it will necessarily alleviate anything, but somehow it seems more appropriate. I was speculating on it today. Does being minorly trans mean that I'm rejecting the wisdom of my womanhood, that I am, gasp, somewhat unfeminist, in a strict sense? Sometimes I feel like the only things keeping me in pigtails and skirts are Third Waver guilt and vanity about my gams.
Christ, I think I'll take a shit and get back to work.
Did you ever have someone ask you for nail polish, and you asked her what for, and she said, "to kill a moth with?" Sometimes I wonder about people and their moral systems. Doesn't everyone recite "Hurt No Living Thing" to themselves every once in a while?
The Library is currently a sweat pit, and the Thirsty Thursday noise is coming in the open windows. I feel so chained up, in a terribly self-absorbed little liberal way. It's like some movie about an office worker in Iceland, feeling trapped: You may be terribly depressed and frustrated with your life, Bjorn, but you have no right to complain. You have socialized health care, and an excellent government, and a low infant mortality rate. Just because you're not living in Spain or something doesn't mean you shouldn't be at least minorly enjoying yourself.
On that note, I think I'll go and come back and then try to write this beast for Bach and try to at least minorly enjoy myself.
And happy birthday Lucas; I am a bad friend and I forgot to call you.
¶ 9:41 PM 0 Comments
I will be the Lit representative for SEPC next term, but only because no one else ran. Hoo-ray. I was hoping it would be a tight race between me and some dick from First Street, and that I would somehow prove my mettle. Oh well. At least I'll get to hang around with M. Feit. all the time.
One of these days I think I might just break down and start living as a man. Not that it will necessarily alleviate anything, but somehow it seems more appropriate. I was speculating on it today. Does being minorly trans mean that I'm rejecting the wisdom of my womanhood, that I am, gasp, somewhat unfeminist, in a strict sense? Sometimes I feel like the only things keeping me in pigtails and skirts are Third Waver guilt and vanity about my gams.
Christ, I think I'll take a shit and get back to work.
Did you ever have someone ask you for nail polish, and you asked her what for, and she said, "to kill a moth with?" Sometimes I wonder about people and their moral systems. Doesn't everyone recite "Hurt No Living Thing" to themselves every once in a while?
The Library is currently a sweat pit, and the Thirsty Thursday noise is coming in the open windows. I feel so chained up, in a terribly self-absorbed little liberal way. It's like some movie about an office worker in Iceland, feeling trapped: You may be terribly depressed and frustrated with your life, Bjorn, but you have no right to complain. You have socialized health care, and an excellent government, and a low infant mortality rate. Just because you're not living in Spain or something doesn't mean you shouldn't be at least minorly enjoying yourself.
On that note, I think I'll go and come back and then try to write this beast for Bach and try to at least minorly enjoy myself.
And happy birthday Lucas; I am a bad friend and I forgot to call you.
¶ 9:41 PM 0 Comments
