the female gaze

Look with your eyes, not with your hands.


Such a minute fraction of this life do we live: so much is sleep, tooth-brushing, waiting for mail, for metamorphosis, for those sudden moments of incandescence: unexpected, but once one knows them, one can live life in the light of their past and the hope of their future.



A grad student muses on her life, film, friends, politics, reality televizzle, and music.


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"The story of your life is not your life, it's your story" -- John Barth
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Friday, May 24, 2002
 
Okay, things are better.

But I am generally exhausted - what I am going to say is not a round-about way of gloating through looking for sympathy, but that's probably how things will be perceived. This week has been indulgent. Midd puts on a very impressive spread for "senior week," i.e. a million semi-formal events, great food, and wine, wine, wine. I think I've had enough merlot and mingling to last me a while.... plus my judicial committments have been strenuous, making everything else that much tighter to schedule. Haven't packed a thing. Need to meet with Ted Perry to work out a way for him to give me $600 for reading and putting together a few research side projects this summer - Lisa Jasinski, academic for hire, with a patron. I also need to track down David tomorrow and get paid for this semester's work as well, that might be nice too. I just feel like I have a lot of crap to do tomorrow during normal business hours and then things are going to be just as hectic once night fall decends, I have my first orphan dinner with the Bussens, then the Saturday ordeal at the Sawchuks and we'll see what excitement graduation brings...

Haven't packed a thing or written a single, meaningful card... yeah, yeah, it'll get done, it always does.