i'm feeling grumpy about this university. it appears that there are only 3 coffee vendors on campus. the small quiet one was out of soy. 15 minutes before i had to teach i joined the queue at another. 4 minutes to the hour i was still about 6th in line. i left without coffee.
poor accessibility to coffee reignites all my other gripes with campus life at this 'other' university. the food is shit. i know now to avoid the salads. today i experimented with a wrap. it was not good. a blend of everything - aussie salad roll meets antipasto and throw in some tabouli and a fuckload of iceberg lettuce. it makes me appreciate the food at my uni.
yes, call me princess gourmand.
so i kept forgetting words in the tutorial, which made things difficult. the topic was feminism. or post-feminism. nobody was into it (the topic, or the reading). many thought feminism archaic and irrelevant. i tried to conceal my anger and hatred towards these middle-class suburban warriors. how can we talk about politics if people feel that they have none? one guy was particularly adamant that feminism was no longer useful. he continued to shoot his own foot by talking about why male sport is more popular than female sport (it's about men's pride and physicality it seems). i tried not to hate him, but it was really hard.
i thought this would be an interesting week, on account of everyone wanting to do the presentations and essays on this topic. but never have they been so disinterested.
the rage of all the world's radical feminists was rising within me. this on top of my caffeine cravings. i have no idea how i appeared to them, but it felt like i concealed most of it. i admitted to the coffee shortage but not the feminist rage.
many commented that today things are easy. uni and work are accessible to them, as young women. they only wanted to talk of equality feminism, despite my efforts to move beyond it. eventually i threw it back to them and asked if they thought that we, as a group, were representative of all - "where are we?" "uni?" (softly spoken by one student). "yes".
i tried to steer the discussion away from identity (feminist) to politics (feminism), but that was met with blank faces. i talked about the media's focus on feminism as representation (images) rather than materiality (bodies), but that didn't work either. so i beheaded them all.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
waking up in the wrong continent
wednesday waking isn't so easy. i slept better last night, but still so tired. i didn't dream too much about study, so my stress levels must be falling.
it all started a week ago when i had a supervision meeting. seems they're still unclear where i'm at, and whether i fully understand foucault's concepts of power and governmentality.
since then i have engaged in a process of sorting. tidying up my endnote reference database, my files, and doing a stocktake on the literature surrounding me. it's only 12 months too late. and i refined my chapter outline once again. but it feels like i'm almost there. next step is some targeted reading (much easier with my database) and then some writing.
i should be writing now. i said that i would be. i think the tidying is part procrastination, yet it's really necessary.
after 2 long days at my desk i'm exhausted. but that's coupled with sleeping poorly. but i'll keep going. it feels like this is the new disciplined me, and that with a routine of being at my desk, things might happen. being in a position of only working one day per week obviously has something to do with this. yes, i finally have time. time for some planning, and not just fumbling about.
i started swimming again this week, and that feels great. on monday i pushed myself to do a kilometre. it felt like i stretched my body back into shape. it was a nice buzz.
it's been autumn with a touch of winter. the crisp air and the crunch of leaves reminds me of paris. i think i dreamt that i was there again. too much reminds me of paris. i'm obviously always looking for signs. or things don't remind me of paris - like public transport. i keep catching buses where people have phone conversations for the entire journey. this bothers me. i like quiet reading time on the bus. in france i witnessed people telling fellow passengers to wind up their phone conversations. there was a general feeling that this was impolite. and i believe that it is. it's acknowledged that people read, work or sleep on trains there. maybe if people here were more into reading, things would be different. i'm training myself to read with earphones on, so i can drown out the noise. i suspect that i just need to be in france.
it all started a week ago when i had a supervision meeting. seems they're still unclear where i'm at, and whether i fully understand foucault's concepts of power and governmentality.
since then i have engaged in a process of sorting. tidying up my endnote reference database, my files, and doing a stocktake on the literature surrounding me. it's only 12 months too late. and i refined my chapter outline once again. but it feels like i'm almost there. next step is some targeted reading (much easier with my database) and then some writing.
i should be writing now. i said that i would be. i think the tidying is part procrastination, yet it's really necessary.
after 2 long days at my desk i'm exhausted. but that's coupled with sleeping poorly. but i'll keep going. it feels like this is the new disciplined me, and that with a routine of being at my desk, things might happen. being in a position of only working one day per week obviously has something to do with this. yes, i finally have time. time for some planning, and not just fumbling about.
i started swimming again this week, and that feels great. on monday i pushed myself to do a kilometre. it felt like i stretched my body back into shape. it was a nice buzz.
it's been autumn with a touch of winter. the crisp air and the crunch of leaves reminds me of paris. i think i dreamt that i was there again. too much reminds me of paris. i'm obviously always looking for signs. or things don't remind me of paris - like public transport. i keep catching buses where people have phone conversations for the entire journey. this bothers me. i like quiet reading time on the bus. in france i witnessed people telling fellow passengers to wind up their phone conversations. there was a general feeling that this was impolite. and i believe that it is. it's acknowledged that people read, work or sleep on trains there. maybe if people here were more into reading, things would be different. i'm training myself to read with earphones on, so i can drown out the noise. i suspect that i just need to be in france.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
tsiolkas, sisyphus, shane
i just finished reading the slap by christos tsiolkas. it only took a couple of weeks - unusual for me, but a lot of uni reading didn't happen as a result.
my connection was strong. i needed to keep reading, to think through these stories, to be challenged by these characters. i wanted to hate all of them at some point, but it was impossible. they were too present, all too real. it's like when you think you hate someone because you have them pegged, you associate them with that thing that bothers you (too stupid, too middle-class, too materialistic, too solipsist, too proud, too desperate...). and then you fall into a conversation with them and realise that with their words and expressions, their intimacy, the hatred can't survive. they are as vulnerable as me. they are flesh and pain and curiosity and fear. perhaps distance allows certain projections - a belief that they are not like me, and that therefore i must be okay. maybe this is what tsiolkas is showing us. how we hate and discredit others in our necessary struggles to be.
i caught the train home today. my newcastle stays get better each time. i recovered from this flu. i walked, slept, ate, and chatted with mark. we snuggled under blankets in the cool night air. i watched his new face, created by his new glasses. it was strange at first, but i loved it more and more. it's like this modification matches other changes in him. or at least, my version of him.
i read tsiolkas for most of the train trip. a woman sat next to me at gosford and kept apologising for her bags, or each time her leg or arm touched me. i wanted to explain that none of this warranted an apology. i imagined she was always apologising, always seeing herself as a nuisance. this time to the reading man on the train, other times to her husband, to her kids, to her friends. she smelt of nice perfume. it was comforting. i wish she could relax, melt into the seat, not care about me, her husband across the aisle, other commuters. she reads from a magazine. as we approach strathfield she asks if i can get past her suitcase and apologises once more.
at newtown station the sun is shining, i walk the stairs, i put on my broken sunglasses. i walk enmore road, my familiar path to home. a well trodden path. but after 3 days away it feels like a ceremonial walk in which i reconnect to everyday life. it's like that first lap of swimming where you're feeling the water, finding coordination, rehearsing for the next lap. the sun makes it more inviting. and the people... there are people!... and i feel their energy.
mum rang tonight. i knew there was a reason by the tone in her voice and because we chatted just last week. my cousin shane killed himself. a cousin i (and my parents) had little to do with. his parents divorced when he was about 10, so he moved away with his mother. but my parents are upset for his dad (dad's brother), for his family. he was 38. he gassed himself in queensland. he has a 13 year old son. these are the facts i'm told, but i know nothing of him or his life. i can't feel upset. though i feel a little sad for my uncle.
more tsiolkas, read in the bath. the water is too hot and made green from the bath salts. a character's suicide contemplation involves a dose of emerald liquid. i become aware of the bath, a seemingly common space for suicide. it would be a comfortable way to die. is it unusual to never contemplate suicide? i'm always shocked when people admit to thinking about it. maybe i don't value life enough to think about ending it. or maybe i have the right combination of laziness and curiosity. according to camus, it is only the absurb who don't kill themselves. but most of us are perverted enough to keep living. to keep rolling that stone up the hill, watching it roll down, and starting all over again.
my connection was strong. i needed to keep reading, to think through these stories, to be challenged by these characters. i wanted to hate all of them at some point, but it was impossible. they were too present, all too real. it's like when you think you hate someone because you have them pegged, you associate them with that thing that bothers you (too stupid, too middle-class, too materialistic, too solipsist, too proud, too desperate...). and then you fall into a conversation with them and realise that with their words and expressions, their intimacy, the hatred can't survive. they are as vulnerable as me. they are flesh and pain and curiosity and fear. perhaps distance allows certain projections - a belief that they are not like me, and that therefore i must be okay. maybe this is what tsiolkas is showing us. how we hate and discredit others in our necessary struggles to be.
i caught the train home today. my newcastle stays get better each time. i recovered from this flu. i walked, slept, ate, and chatted with mark. we snuggled under blankets in the cool night air. i watched his new face, created by his new glasses. it was strange at first, but i loved it more and more. it's like this modification matches other changes in him. or at least, my version of him.
i read tsiolkas for most of the train trip. a woman sat next to me at gosford and kept apologising for her bags, or each time her leg or arm touched me. i wanted to explain that none of this warranted an apology. i imagined she was always apologising, always seeing herself as a nuisance. this time to the reading man on the train, other times to her husband, to her kids, to her friends. she smelt of nice perfume. it was comforting. i wish she could relax, melt into the seat, not care about me, her husband across the aisle, other commuters. she reads from a magazine. as we approach strathfield she asks if i can get past her suitcase and apologises once more.
at newtown station the sun is shining, i walk the stairs, i put on my broken sunglasses. i walk enmore road, my familiar path to home. a well trodden path. but after 3 days away it feels like a ceremonial walk in which i reconnect to everyday life. it's like that first lap of swimming where you're feeling the water, finding coordination, rehearsing for the next lap. the sun makes it more inviting. and the people... there are people!... and i feel their energy.
mum rang tonight. i knew there was a reason by the tone in her voice and because we chatted just last week. my cousin shane killed himself. a cousin i (and my parents) had little to do with. his parents divorced when he was about 10, so he moved away with his mother. but my parents are upset for his dad (dad's brother), for his family. he was 38. he gassed himself in queensland. he has a 13 year old son. these are the facts i'm told, but i know nothing of him or his life. i can't feel upset. though i feel a little sad for my uncle.
more tsiolkas, read in the bath. the water is too hot and made green from the bath salts. a character's suicide contemplation involves a dose of emerald liquid. i become aware of the bath, a seemingly common space for suicide. it would be a comfortable way to die. is it unusual to never contemplate suicide? i'm always shocked when people admit to thinking about it. maybe i don't value life enough to think about ending it. or maybe i have the right combination of laziness and curiosity. according to camus, it is only the absurb who don't kill themselves. but most of us are perverted enough to keep living. to keep rolling that stone up the hill, watching it roll down, and starting all over again.
Friday, May 1, 2009
shake it, like a ladder to the sun*
so, i guess i won't get much work done today. soon i'll get a bus to a train to newcastle.
and i'll read the book i just picked up from the library, which i'm looking forward to. it's 'metaphors we live by' by Lakoff and Johnson. it could be the push i need to get interested in some old-fashioned discourse analysis, and psych myself up for interviews.
i'll also listen to new music. in the last few days i've felt the need for fresh itunes content. something of today - sounds of the present not the past. a little online research taught me that a lot of my favourite musicians have new stuff out, so i got me some. i guess i also feel the need to catch up after 2 months without the internet. maybe i should just listen to the radio occasionally.
anyway, in light of my week of marking essays, i will now grade my new songs accordingly.
HD=high distinction / D=distinction / C=credit / P=pass / F=fail
zero - yeah yeah yeahs
HD
this is an amazing track. it's on a par with the peaches remix of cheated hearts. love it to bits. karen o's voice is amazing, better than ever, and seems to reach orgasm throughout the song - "can you climb, climb, climb..."
talk to me - peaches
HD
also very wonderful. different to other peaches. a little bit less rough around the edges, but it works for me anyway. more of that pat benatar influence.
honey in the sun - camera obscura
P+
i wanted to love this, them being one of my favourites, but it was disappointing. too 'up', too 'even', too much music and not enough lovely vocal. grr...
halo - beyonce
D
i had written off this beyonce album with the songs i'd heard, but this is quite special. it's a ballad, but again, she defies my hatred of the pop ballad (as she did with irreplacable and listen). it could be rhianna (they seem to be merging) but it's not. and there's a musical hook there that hits the spot every time.
work - junior boys
F
this is not what i wanted. nothing like their last album. where's the subtle melancholy. too clubby. blah.
daniel - bat for lashes
D+
almost a HD, and maybe it will get there with a few more listens. very splendid. i was disappointed with the last album, so won't buy the new one on account of this. maybe i'll download it, though not a priority for now.
money babies - the dears
C
okay, but it doesn't transport me like their earlier stuff. maybe a few more listens? it's still above average though, so warrants a credit.
tape song - the kills
C+
i like it. but it's probably one that will fall to the bottom of the stack quite quickly. still not convinced that the kills are as wonderful as everyone says.
young adult friction - the pains of being pure at heart
D+
nice. really nice. i've never heard of this band, but i heard a sample on one of those hip-indie-music sites and loved it. very upbeat with a stars-esque feel. i want more of them.
gimme sympathy - metric
D
love it. but not a HD. i couldn't put it on the same level as yeah yeah yeahs (which i just keep wanting to hear again and again). but i will get this album. it will be good. metric always are.
wrong - depeche mode
C-
this is okay. impossible to rank higher than this though on account of all the good depeche mode that exists. but very good for an aging band who could have been very bad by now.
*from zero by yeah yeah yeahs
and i'll read the book i just picked up from the library, which i'm looking forward to. it's 'metaphors we live by' by Lakoff and Johnson. it could be the push i need to get interested in some old-fashioned discourse analysis, and psych myself up for interviews.
i'll also listen to new music. in the last few days i've felt the need for fresh itunes content. something of today - sounds of the present not the past. a little online research taught me that a lot of my favourite musicians have new stuff out, so i got me some. i guess i also feel the need to catch up after 2 months without the internet. maybe i should just listen to the radio occasionally.
anyway, in light of my week of marking essays, i will now grade my new songs accordingly.
HD=high distinction / D=distinction / C=credit / P=pass / F=fail
zero - yeah yeah yeahs
HD
this is an amazing track. it's on a par with the peaches remix of cheated hearts. love it to bits. karen o's voice is amazing, better than ever, and seems to reach orgasm throughout the song - "can you climb, climb, climb..."
talk to me - peaches
HD
also very wonderful. different to other peaches. a little bit less rough around the edges, but it works for me anyway. more of that pat benatar influence.
honey in the sun - camera obscura
P+
i wanted to love this, them being one of my favourites, but it was disappointing. too 'up', too 'even', too much music and not enough lovely vocal. grr...
halo - beyonce
D
i had written off this beyonce album with the songs i'd heard, but this is quite special. it's a ballad, but again, she defies my hatred of the pop ballad (as she did with irreplacable and listen). it could be rhianna (they seem to be merging) but it's not. and there's a musical hook there that hits the spot every time.
work - junior boys
F
this is not what i wanted. nothing like their last album. where's the subtle melancholy. too clubby. blah.
daniel - bat for lashes
D+
almost a HD, and maybe it will get there with a few more listens. very splendid. i was disappointed with the last album, so won't buy the new one on account of this. maybe i'll download it, though not a priority for now.
money babies - the dears
C
okay, but it doesn't transport me like their earlier stuff. maybe a few more listens? it's still above average though, so warrants a credit.
tape song - the kills
C+
i like it. but it's probably one that will fall to the bottom of the stack quite quickly. still not convinced that the kills are as wonderful as everyone says.
young adult friction - the pains of being pure at heart
D+
nice. really nice. i've never heard of this band, but i heard a sample on one of those hip-indie-music sites and loved it. very upbeat with a stars-esque feel. i want more of them.
gimme sympathy - metric
D
love it. but not a HD. i couldn't put it on the same level as yeah yeah yeahs (which i just keep wanting to hear again and again). but i will get this album. it will be good. metric always are.
wrong - depeche mode
C-
this is okay. impossible to rank higher than this though on account of all the good depeche mode that exists. but very good for an aging band who could have been very bad by now.
*from zero by yeah yeah yeahs
Thursday, April 30, 2009
from the island of my bed
work. followed by more work. a bit of study but then it's back to work. and then i forget where i'm at with study and i have to backtrack. and then i work some more.
that's been the pattern of my work/study life these past few months. oh, and there's all that other stuff around flirting and sex with the boss. but i think that's over now. and it's such a relief.
i had a birthday. i'm 34. sometimes i feel much younger than this, but other times i'm 40+. i guess it all evens out. i am what i am.
i cooked dinner for my friends, and it felt like a nice to thing to do, to experience, to share. i felt very satisfied in the circle of people around at this moment. i felt loved. and love.
and then i got sick. a mild flu that makes me want to curl up and sleep for days. with heavy blankets pushing me into the bed, experiencing great warmth. i've been having lots of baths, sweating beneath hot water, melting my muscles. then i climb into bed and sleep for what could be several years.
i've been reassessing my time. nothing new, i know this. but it feels like things are shifting, and maybe i'm becoming more aware of what i want. and what i don't want.
i don't want a boss who only wants to sleep with me. i would rather a boss who is a friend. i thought we had a friendship, but lately the signs tell me otherwise. he likes me, but i'm little more than an ego device for him. someone to feed his needs. and when i don't, he tries his hand at emotional blackmail. i don't need this. i don't even like him sexually. if he wasn't french i probably would never have gone there. or would i?
but i stopped replying to his message and now he seems angry and upset and told me not to come to work today, on his last day, where we were meant to settle things with the project. it all seems very odd. what has he done with my project, my work? and why can't we discuss it like colleagues and not jilted lovers? mostly i can't care. so i won't go into work. i'll just do some study, have a nap, repair myself from this flu.
but a part of me wonders what he's telling others, such as his partner (our boss). potentially i'm being blamed for things. but still, i've not enough energy to care. at least not today.
he's messaging me now on gmail. i'll get to that later.
i've been considering taking a semester off study. stressing about time and that which i've lost already. maybe i need an extra 6 months. although, going back to it this morning, working on my introduction, i'm starting to think that maybe i am selling myself short. i have done quite a bit. though it feels so small. if i count the months and days i've been involved in this project, there seems to be very little to show. but maybe it's not all about the text i have created, but the shifts in thinking i've been undergoing, the reading, the contemplating, the application of theory throughout daily life. maybe the consideration of such things suggests that i have been immersed from day one, and i haven't paused once.
working with theory is strange like that. i feel as though i need a decade to swim in what i want to familiarise myself with, engage in, utilise, build upon. but there is no decade. there is no time. there is work and more work. there's relationships and birthdays and sickness and sex with your boss and ensuing emotional blackmail and a host of other factors that i must contend with on any given day. and maybe to lock myself away from this will make me unable to write anyway, for i will have nothing to fight for or against.
maybe. but i think i might just stick with it for now. i think i just need to contend with my confidence issues and put more trust into my academic abilities. to stop feeling like a fraud would be nice. and this morning, in reading through stuff i've written, there was a glimmer of something. maybe i'm good after all.
that's been the pattern of my work/study life these past few months. oh, and there's all that other stuff around flirting and sex with the boss. but i think that's over now. and it's such a relief.
i had a birthday. i'm 34. sometimes i feel much younger than this, but other times i'm 40+. i guess it all evens out. i am what i am.
i cooked dinner for my friends, and it felt like a nice to thing to do, to experience, to share. i felt very satisfied in the circle of people around at this moment. i felt loved. and love.
and then i got sick. a mild flu that makes me want to curl up and sleep for days. with heavy blankets pushing me into the bed, experiencing great warmth. i've been having lots of baths, sweating beneath hot water, melting my muscles. then i climb into bed and sleep for what could be several years.
i've been reassessing my time. nothing new, i know this. but it feels like things are shifting, and maybe i'm becoming more aware of what i want. and what i don't want.
i don't want a boss who only wants to sleep with me. i would rather a boss who is a friend. i thought we had a friendship, but lately the signs tell me otherwise. he likes me, but i'm little more than an ego device for him. someone to feed his needs. and when i don't, he tries his hand at emotional blackmail. i don't need this. i don't even like him sexually. if he wasn't french i probably would never have gone there. or would i?
but i stopped replying to his message and now he seems angry and upset and told me not to come to work today, on his last day, where we were meant to settle things with the project. it all seems very odd. what has he done with my project, my work? and why can't we discuss it like colleagues and not jilted lovers? mostly i can't care. so i won't go into work. i'll just do some study, have a nap, repair myself from this flu.
but a part of me wonders what he's telling others, such as his partner (our boss). potentially i'm being blamed for things. but still, i've not enough energy to care. at least not today.
he's messaging me now on gmail. i'll get to that later.
i've been considering taking a semester off study. stressing about time and that which i've lost already. maybe i need an extra 6 months. although, going back to it this morning, working on my introduction, i'm starting to think that maybe i am selling myself short. i have done quite a bit. though it feels so small. if i count the months and days i've been involved in this project, there seems to be very little to show. but maybe it's not all about the text i have created, but the shifts in thinking i've been undergoing, the reading, the contemplating, the application of theory throughout daily life. maybe the consideration of such things suggests that i have been immersed from day one, and i haven't paused once.
working with theory is strange like that. i feel as though i need a decade to swim in what i want to familiarise myself with, engage in, utilise, build upon. but there is no decade. there is no time. there is work and more work. there's relationships and birthdays and sickness and sex with your boss and ensuing emotional blackmail and a host of other factors that i must contend with on any given day. and maybe to lock myself away from this will make me unable to write anyway, for i will have nothing to fight for or against.
maybe. but i think i might just stick with it for now. i think i just need to contend with my confidence issues and put more trust into my academic abilities. to stop feeling like a fraud would be nice. and this morning, in reading through stuff i've written, there was a glimmer of something. maybe i'm good after all.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
quietly active
blogging, like most of my online activities, has all but stopped.
today, someone somewhere connected a cable that will give us home internet again. by next week we'll be online i suppose.
that will be good.
i've saved a lot of time from this. though there has been a slow-building frustration in not being able to access maps, timetables, phone numbers, and the kinds of things that make navigation a little easier.
if i had a connection today i would have emailed work to say i'm working from home. but there's no email, and no access to stuff i might need online. so i came to work.
today was my latest-ever-arrival - i got here after 4pm. it would have been sooner than 4 had my bus not been very very late. instead i arrived when all the decent coffee-venders were shut. so i turned to sugar.
i now share an office with 3 others, one of whom has an assortment of lolly jars on her desk. she proudly services the sugar needs of all staff. my teeth are tingling.
and now, a couple of hours in, it's time to go home.
today, someone somewhere connected a cable that will give us home internet again. by next week we'll be online i suppose.
that will be good.
i've saved a lot of time from this. though there has been a slow-building frustration in not being able to access maps, timetables, phone numbers, and the kinds of things that make navigation a little easier.
if i had a connection today i would have emailed work to say i'm working from home. but there's no email, and no access to stuff i might need online. so i came to work.
today was my latest-ever-arrival - i got here after 4pm. it would have been sooner than 4 had my bus not been very very late. instead i arrived when all the decent coffee-venders were shut. so i turned to sugar.
i now share an office with 3 others, one of whom has an assortment of lolly jars on her desk. she proudly services the sugar needs of all staff. my teeth are tingling.
and now, a couple of hours in, it's time to go home.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
badness is goodness
pablo is a bad student. he's about to go to lunch. and then he's going shopping. and then he's going for a sexual health check up.
no time for writing today. but maybe, over lunch, he will make a few words. he will go to that sandwich shop in randwick. and then he's likely to eat an almond croissant at the bus stop.
and the breeze will catch in his billowing hair as the bus speeds away.
no time for writing today. but maybe, over lunch, he will make a few words. he will go to that sandwich shop in randwick. and then he's likely to eat an almond croissant at the bus stop.
and the breeze will catch in his billowing hair as the bus speeds away.
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