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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Tuesday, October 15, 2002
 
Sleepy, Sleepy

One of those tired cold days when I am having an especially hard time staying on task and producing the two idiotic little response papers that I have due for my Bible class and Urban Planning, due this evening and first thing tomorrow morning respectively. I moved myself to the work-conducive zone of the library, realizing this is only my second or third time here this semester. I practically lived here last year. Well, since that time, I moved across campus and lightened the workload so it's hard to compare. Do you know how difficult it is to write an academic response to Chocolat? Don't get me wrong, I thought it was a good flick, but it's not really worthy of a deep analysis. Sometimes it's worthwhile to put pop culture through the deconstructionist strainer and other times it's just not.

Revisiting my post from earlier in the day, I will add that Bible class continues to disappoint - well, it just doesn't measure up. Tonight he cleaned out the Cloister's gift shop and encoraged us to go and look at the "Unicorn" tapestries that once belonged to John D. Rockefeller. Blah, all of my classes deal with antquity this semester and I'm generally stuck at the Middle Ages right now. It sucks to be stuck in the middle. Anyway, back to my little urban paper on Sixtus V's Rome and how it is like Middlebury. That's a stretch and a half.