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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Saturday, March 22, 2003
 
Abbreviated Style

In my continued pattern of whimsy obsessions, it seems like working out has replaced blogging for the time being. All in all, this is a good thing, February and part of March was really out of control there, a little too wordy, if you know what I mean. Getting ready to head up to Ginnie's place in New Hampshire for some fun with the girls. Still need a shower, get some bagels and coronas and a lime or two to prevent scurvy. Hit up a View from the Top and Chicago last night, the later obviously far superior to the first, but the first not being entirely bad either. Got kicked in the teeth from another grad school and really beginning to appreciate my Midwestern blessing. My interview went really well yesterday, provided this place is sold on hiring someone at all. They seem to be teetering about hiring any development person and essentially, creating this new position to focus on corporate and individual gifts. Fingers crossed, I think I did as well as could be expected. Today is my Dad's birthday. Cleaned up the car via shiny armorall, that stuff is really incredible, it's like a greasy Italian guy rubbed his mop all over my now gleaming dash. Okie dokies artichokies... time to shine myself up for Ginnie's candle and wine fest 2003.