In Which I Get Too Excited About a Bunch of Dead Guys In Togas

Wednesday 2 April

I'm having serious flood day flashbacks, and it's a little traumatic, because I was in a place of Sheer Confusion and Existential Suspension back in those days. Yay rain.

I'll just note that Wednesday posts are probably going to be late because Orchestra. Woot.

Today wasn't bad. I stayed awake for all of my organic lecture, which was nice. We're doing something about enols and enolates and they're important because their starting materials determine their acidity versus the conjugate base? I'm learning stuff? Ish? I've also got House Tully's Sigil with their House Words as "Fish are Friends!" so yay things-that-aren't-ochem.

I then went to my Constitutional Law lecture and we had a GUEST LECTURE today which was kinda nice because my brain is in no state whatsoever to handle Real School. Dr. Brad Birzer from Hillsdale College in Michigan is up for election to CU Boulder's Visiting Scholar in Conservative Thought, a position currently held by my Law prof Dr. Steven Hayward.

As a liberal in the People's Republic of Boulder, it's been an awesome experience to have someone that doesn't share my political beliefs that's actually intelligent and doesn't tell me I'm just a stupid girl that doesn't know her shit (Arvada was a tough place to grow up knowing you identified with the left from about the age of nine). The discourses I've heard have been fascinating, and this why our two-party system blows—we try too fucking hard to pigeonhole ourselves into two narrow sets of ideologies.

Anyway. That's a rant for another blog. I'll finish Brad's lecture at the end of this blog.

Then I took my twice-daily walk home from Clare Small to Bear Creek, which was nice. Today was the Absolute Perfect Temperature and if it's like this forever I'm totally down.

I got home and ate some pizza rolls and decided, instead of doing a mostly-optional assignment for my writing class, to read A Dance With Dragons, because I have Priorities (and by Priorities I mean Seven stupid fucking Kingdoms that are super fucked either way because everyone I love is going to die a horrific and painful death. Fuck this fucking book series).

I mustered some strength in this daze of lethargy to get to said Writing Class, where I am the Anointed Sovereign of Sighs and Groans because NO ONE GETS SHAKESPEARE OR HAS HEARD OF THE GLOBE THEATER OR QUEEN ELIZABETH I. KILL ME PLEASE. I also resisted the urge to say that Coriolanus is the most YOLO character in all of Shakespeare's works—really, he doesn't deliberate like Hamlet or Macbeth, and he is utterly unashamed of the person he is, unlike Othello and Richard III, and I think he's basically fucking awesome and doesn't deserve the end he had. Anyway.

Then, instead of reading Hunger (which, to quote a classmate, "I don't know what I expected") for class, I read ADWD and JON SNOW STOP YOU STILL KNOW NOTHING. Anyway.

Orchestra came next, where I ended up in the third chair seat which CAN'T HAPPEN BECAUSE I STILL CAN'T CONSISTENTLY PLAY MY BASS OR READ MUSIC EVEN AFTER TEN (!) FUCKING YEARS OF IT, but it was fabulous anyway. Then again, I don't give up three hours of my Wednesday to have FUCKING RESTS for FIFTY MEASURES IN A ROW. Best section ever. Welcome to my life.

I swore profusely on finding the rain-snow mix outside, drove Katniss-the-car home after having a minor panic attack in the parking garage because she wouldn't start for a moment (thank god she did). Then I parked Across the Narrow Sea (read: the soccer fields because I'm Cheap) and started on homework until I remembered it was April and this had to happen.

Anyway. Brad Birzer gave us a lecture on the American Founding and he said something that really resonated with me regarding the character of a republican (Read: not the GOP) nation, which was that you had to ask yourself what it means to be a human with your liberal education in order to further the common good, which is a question we forget to answer in the endless maze of tropes and policy holdups and filibusters and whatnot these days. Furthermore, it's "not the accidents of your birth, but the character of your soul" that makes you a good politician or a bad one, and that was fucking awesome to hear for a lower-middle-class female that wants to compete in that world.

I LOVE talking about the founding—more than almost anything in politics (other favorite topics are constitutional law and revolutions and also elections because just eeeeeeee). Thomas Jefferson is my favorite person and the tooth-and-nail politics of Revolutionary America was a fucking bloodbath, which is always the best. The founders played dirty come election season and kicked ass in office, had actual real life toga parties where you had to recite shit in classical Greek and Latin, and by whatever is Good and Holy, they mastered the art of oration.

Basically when I fell off the few moral pedestals I had when I came into college (because Freshman Year Yaaay), I was forced to reevaluate my ideals and what I stood for. And the liberal ideals of the founding—life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, justice as the end to the means of government, representation, equality of opportunity, and the simple acknowledgement that you have a voice in the vast nothingness of the universe—were what I was left with when I threw everything else out with the bathwater. Yeah. I have some issues with their racism and their misogyny and their hypocritical actions, and OH MY GOD THEIR FOREIGN POLICY IN THE FORMATIVE YEARS MAKE MY OCHEM ATTEMPTS LOOK SPECTACULAR (I'm looking at you, Quasi-War, Jay Treaty, and Embargo of 1807) but for the most part, I believe in their ideals more than I do any sort of deity. Maybe it's foolish and maybe, as Woodrow Wilson suggested, it's completely nonexistent. But I got into politics and I'm staying here because I would do anything to further these ideals, and I think they make the world a better place.

Yay manifestos!

Anyway. I'm going to go read more of Jon Snow's ineptitude in governing anything Knut Hamsun.

Thanks for reading :)

Disclaimer: I'm going to talk politics. A LOT. I'M SORRY YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE GETTING INTO LET'S BE REAL ;)

Blog Every Day April: Volume VI

Tuesday 1 April

This April began in a foul-smelling organic chemistry lab where one of my friends was synthesizing insect pheromones, which diffused through the air with the pungent stench of elephant dung mixed with burnt cheese—also known as the concentrated smell of cockroach "I want the frickle-frackle."

You can imagine I'm excited to move along with this show.

Welcome to Blog Every Day April, where, as the name suggests, I blog every day in April. Shocking, I know. It's the sixth (!) year I'm doing this, because someone once told me that if you find something that works for you, then you stick with it, and this, weirdly enough, works for me. To new readers, welcome! To old readers, sorry! But thanks for coming back!

Basically, shit happens in April because it is, to quote TS Eliot, "the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain." It's a state of transition, of endings and beginnings, and of sheer bloody panic as the semester ends. Last year was a helluva ride, but it was a nice place to process things, and that's helpful because sometimes I think too much. That's me in four words: I think too much. So that's the gist of it.

I'll write about my day trying and failing to synthesize polystyrene (which is the Lab Project I'm Doomed to Fail Miserably) in chem lab, of fucking loving my revolutions class (today we talked about the Iranian revolution which is really fascinating), and of the perpetual eye-roll toward Norwegian author Knut Hamsun in my Nordic Literature class (core classes yaaaay). I'll write about my consuming hatred of organic chemistry, how much I like constitutional law, and the other perpetual eye-roll which is my writing class. I like school. It's a focus of this life and this blog.

I love Game of Thrones, and I'm definitely going to cry throughout this season (I'll try not to spoil things but I royally fuck up sometimes, sorry). Cersei Lannister, Elsa from Frozen, Yulia Tymoshenko, and Jennifer Lawrence are my spirit animals. I'm in love with English history, the Ukrainian crisis, Lord of the Rings, Rockstar, Benedict Cumberbatch, modernist literature, skiing, hiking, the Cold War period, feminist critiques of my favorite shows, pizza, and classic rock. I swear. Profusely. Sometimes I hate being a girl. And I hate raccoons.

That's it. That's the blog.

Blogs on Fridays and Saturdays will be late (usually) because I have what is commonly referred to as a "Social Life" and I don't sleep even though I should. I've also got a few papers due in the next few weeks so I might miss a couple here and there. Whatever #yolo.

(sometimes I use hashtags ironically because I hate Millennials. #sorrynotsorry)

So welcome along.

In twenty more years on this earth, most of the days of our lives will fade into the annals of history, unrecorded, forgotten, tiny blips on the seismograph of life. And that terrifies me because I have a bizarre fear of oblivion. So this is what April is about—it's a tribute to what it means to be alive, to be you, in these interesting times. It's making sure these thirty days aren't forgotten. Maybe it's important. Maybe it isn't. But that doesn't mean we don't try.

So thanks for reading, and cheers to April :)

NERD RAGE: The Political Rant You've Always Wanted From Me

Saturday, 5 October

So this has been me since 10 PM on Monday night, all the damn time:

Liz Lemon Understands

Why do I have so much nerd rage? Because right now is kind of a shitty time to be a political science major. It's also a really exciting time. I am perpetually hangcited—hungry, angry, and excited. I'm stoked for analyzing everything and I want to collectively punch the GOP in the face and also I am really craving a soft pretzel.

I don't usually write political rants, because I think it's fucking stupid and mostly just starts fights and you know me—I don't start things. But this is important. Because I am seriously so fucking angry. This is the last straw.

So I'm going to address some statements I've heard and tell you what's the deal behind them.

Statement Number One: I hate politicians.

Here's The Deal: Throughout my political science classes, I've been told that people have a great deal of support for our Constitution and our system of government, but don't trust the people IN said government. So what can you do?

Stop electing fucking idiots. Do your research. We as a people have the power to put people in office that represent our interests. If you don't feel your representative is doing a good job, DON'T REINFORCE BAD BEHAVIOR. If your dog bites you, you don't give it a treat; you tell that motherfucker off.

Also, NOT voting is often as bad as reelecting these people. You have no right to complain if you didn't go to the polls and things aren't going your way. That's like getting mad because your own dirty dishes are clogging up the sink. Fucking do something about it instead of letting it stagnate. House elections are next year. Get on it.

Statement Number Two: Obamacare is unconstitutional.

Here's The Deal: Seriously, just stop.

It's constitutional. The Supreme Court cleared this up last year. They made some amendments to the bill that have been put into effect. The Necessary and Proper Clause of the Constitution (which, for those of you following along, is Article 1, Section 8, Clause, aka Paragraph, 18) completely legitimizes this, and that was the majority opinion written by Justice John Roberts. The General Welfare Clause, in my opinion, is ALSO a decent backup (Article 1, Section 8, Clause 1).

It is STAGGERING the amount of people that don't know this. The internet is awesome. Alternate your cat video watching with some brief current events. It's not hard. It's like reading this, but with less profanity (sorry, I curse when I'm angry or exhausted, both of which I happen to be right now. It's been a rough year).

And if you still think a charged statement like this legitimizes your complaint against the Affordable Care Act, just get over it. This is now a purely political fight and not a legal battle. There is a distinction.

Statement Number Three: Obamacare suxs.

Here's the Deal: This is a political view that I'm going to preach. Personally, I think it doesn't suck.

Have you ever NOT had health insurance? My family didn't for about ten years because my parents were self-employed and we couldn't afford it. We're ridiculously accident-prone. When my brother was four years old, he jumped off the top of our staircase and predictably broke his elbow (you know, the cringeworthy arms-don't-bend-that-way break). We called an ambulance because he was going into shock. It took us FOUR YEARS to pay off that ride which lasted ten minutes.

Luckily, my dad's job now provides health insurance. But at one point, we were balls deep in those bills. Coverage helps so much. We're still breaking bones like we get paid to. But it's not nearly as bad.

Healthcare is a mess. The Affordable Care Act aims to make healthcare more affordable, reduce the uninsured rate of Americans, and stop discriminating against preexisting conditions.

If you already have employer insurance, Medicare, or Medicaid, you're cool. It won't affect you. You might even end up paying less. Individual states can decide whether or not to go along with the Medicaid expansion (Colorado has decided to go along, for those of you following along).

I still think that the Medicaid/Medicare needs to be more tightly regulated because unfortunately, people do indeed take advantage of the systems and that needs to stop. I'm not going to pretend to know how to do that. I'm not an expert. I'm a broke college student taking shots in the dark.

Of course it's going to cost more money. THAT'S HOW IT WORKS. But the long term trend is that it will help alleviate costs and make this ridiculous inflation of costs decrease in the coming years. And I think that'd be nice. If you want to see it in action, I'll refer you to Massachusetts, where essentially the same thing was implemented under the state government, under a REPUBLICAN (that was good old Mitt Romney, for those of you following along). Kay cool.

Statement Number Four: The Blame Game.

Here's the Deal: BOTH parties are at fault. Compromise is how this whole "politics" thing works. When people don't compromise, it's GOING TO BREAK LIKE IT IS NOW.

Republicans, I refer you to Statement Number Two. Seriously. You LOST. This has been a law for THREE YEARS AND THE JUSTICE SYSTEM THINKS IT'S TOTALLY LEGITIMATE.

Get rid of your extremist agenda. At the base of the GOP is some really good, pure ideology that I respect, and you should throw back to that, because right now you seriously suck so much and it's not even fair. Eat a Snickers, you're not you when you're hungry. Remember the days of Reagan? That's what your party is, and I wouldn't hate you so much if that is what you're getting at and not this fucking bullshit.

Democrats, I refer you to Statement Number Three. Get at the real issues. You can afford to be flexible on some issues in the Affordable Care Act. We HAVE to be flexible on some issues, because we literally can't afford anything else.

And seriously, if this is how we're acting on the spending bill, what is it going to come down to when we have to RAISE THE DEBT CEILING IN TWO WEEKS?

People ask me what I want to be when I grow up, and I am seriously so embarrassed to say that I want to be a politician because of what's happening lately.

So Congress, do your fucking jobs while you still fucking have them (I refer to Statement One), because I'm sick of the lot of you. Compromise. Work together. Do not make me hate my major and my life decisions. Because I do enough of that on my own.

Statement Number Five: We can smoke weed legally now that the government's shut down, right?

Here's the Deal: If you say this in jest, I think you're funny and we're probably friends, but if you say this in complete seriousness, I seriously hate you so much. That would be ACTUAL ANARCHY. Ever heard of federalism? Yeah, it's a thing. There is a balance between federal and state governments. And the people who throw you into jail for lighting up in public work for the STATES, which are still fairly functional.

So yeah. That's my rant. I'm just going to add one thing.

Maybe I'm just a huge fucking geek that loves this and I need to get a life that isn't so impossibly lame, but most of the issues I have with people stem from their complete ignorance. I LOVE having informed talks with people and I'm happy to discuss it with you if you're open and curious about it. But if you're acting like an authority on the subject and you're being a jerk and you refuse to open up when you don't have a clue, it isn't fun. It kind of makes me want to punch you in the face, and I'm not a violent human, usually.

So please, increase your constitutional literacy and keep up with the politics. A pocket Constitution is like three dollars. I have one in my WALLET if you want to borrow it sometime. The internet is a great resource. You can get Twitter updates. It's EASY to follow politics. Even if it's just a quick weekly update or something.

We are the fountain of authority in this nation. And we are SO LUCKY to have that. You don't even know. It's a republic if we can keep it, as Ben Franklin said. This whole thing only works with an informed populace, so if you want it to work out, you need to pull your own weight too.

Okay. I'm done.

On a lighter note, Season Eight of How I Met Your Mother was just posted to Netflix and all of my homework plans just fell to shit. So I'm off to do that.

Thanks for reading, and stay excellent. :)

Dancing in the Storm

13 September 2013

I literally couldn't have picked a more cliche title if I tried. Fuck it all.

There is a quote from Jack Kerouac's novel On the Road that goes, "I had nothing to offer anybody except for my own confusion." And that basically sums everything up.

Coming back to Boulder has simplified some things, like the fact that I can actually see my friends and go to Denny's whenever the hell I want and I've got some lovely mental stimulation from my classes and I can talk about property suits and liability (thanks, Constitutional Law!) like it's no big deal.

And yet, coming back to Boulder has also complicated a lot of things—once again, what the hell is going on? has become the central question of my life. And I'm trying to remember how to be okay with that.

I wish it was easier, and I wish I was't such a crazy person engaged in this never-ending war between her head and her heart, and I wish I could tell you these things without having to keep it all bottled up like I do.

So this is me trying to explain why my life lately has felt like the disaster my home is right now.

A lot of people that have come into my life in the last year don't know that I used to be a ballerina. Not a dancer. A ballerina. Even when I did have a brief foray into the hip-hop world, people just laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, because I was a ballerina. Tennis shoes were for tennis. Not the dance studio.

I sacrificed fourteen years of my life for dance. Sacrificed is the opportune word. I gave up weekends, any chance of a social life because I was an introvert and didn't make friends easily unless I was seeing them all the damn time, and I broke my heart, my body, and my spirit for this art form.

I first jumped on the initial bandwagon of dance, because what four-year-old doesn't want to be a ballerina? Or a princess? All my friends were doing it, so why not? I am a bit like a lemming in this respect. But it's a staple of my personality. I thought I'd try it out for about a year or so to see if I'd continue down this frankly expensive path. I wasn't entirely sure about it, either. And then one day, I found myself dancing down the aisle of the grocery store and thought, "I'm in trouble." Even at four years old, I realized this was something that I wasn't going to be able to give up easily.

I switched to Fabulous Feet Dance Academy, and the next thirteen years of my life were spent in that studio. Sometimes, it was terrible and I questioned my life choices. But mostly, it was a place where we could get past the trite problems of everyday life and become a unit dancing to a single beat, where we could be connected in a genuine way to other human beings. It was the most real thing I knew.


Which is ironic, because most people think it's superficial and stupid. Sometimes it is. Sometimes I hated it. Maybe it reads better than it lives, and maybe this is just nostalgia. But believe me. It was the most reality I'd ever experienced.

And I loved it for that. If I can ever love anything as much as I loved dance, I don't know what I'm going to do except never let it go.

But one night in February 2011, I was doing a part of the recital piece I'd done a thousand times and had helped to choreograph, and my right patella stopped bring in my patellar groove for five agonizing seconds. It was the most pain I'd ever felt in my entire life, because literally all I'd ever loved was gone in a split second. It effectively ended my dance career. Even with recovery and physical therapy, I was in too much pain and I was too scared to go at the same level I'd been at to continue. I stopped entirely after my eighteenth birthday.

And it broke my heart. In some way, I will always be cleaning up after this first radical heartbreak.

I learned a lot from it—how to be a microcosm of a universe, how to make friends, what being alive feels like.

But my entire personality was shaped by dance. The ballet studio is one of the only places in the world that if asked to jump, you ask "How high and in what position?"

You're expected to give up everything for minimal rewards.

You have to make it look graceful and effortless even though you're a crazy-awkward person that's putting literally everything into your movement. It has to look easy even when you're dying.

You have to trust people to have their shit together. You need to have your shit together because if you don't you throw off the whole form. Unity is important, so you conform to the group.

In many ways, my life has been better because of this. I am creative and I can follow orders and I can inspire people and I can see patterns and I can deal with things. Usually.

But lately, I've felt like this weather. I feel like my life is spinning out of control and that I'm not able to understand anything. I am so confused and I don't know what I want and nothing is as easy anymore. I'm so worried about everyone and I feel like in some way it leads back to me, and I apologize too much for everything and I'm terrible at feeling my feelings and I am a shitshow.

And I feel like this leads back to my experience in the dance studio. I can no longer jump so high and follow this path my life is leading down because I don't know the steps anymore.

I can't make it look effortless because I feel like I'm drowning, and I have to yell for help and that's scary. It's NOT easy anymore and I can't just plaster over it all with grace and humor.

I'm too scared to give up what I have and go for more because everything is too precious and I don't want to lose it.

I'm a shitshow, so it must affect other people in some way. It must throw off the whole rest of the form. It's so hard to see people that kind of have their lives together while I'm struggling to stay afloat. I trust that everyone else is okay and when they aren't, I'm so scared because the way I'm feeling is too fucking awful that other people feel this way too.

This is why I apologize so much. I know you people hate this, and that it's NOT my fault all the time, but I've been raised in a dance studio and my life's formative years were spent apologizing for broken things and promptly fixing things. You were doing something wrong if you couldn't quickly apply corrections. Now that everything is broken, I just have to keep apologizing. It's supposed to let you know that I'm working on it. It's my way of saying, "I'm not okay right now but it will get better. Give me some time." Being a mess was not okay growing up, and now that it's what my life is constantly, it's really hard trying to accept that's okay. Or something.

And I know Boulder's fucking underwater and life shouldn't feel like it's a mess because I still have a home and I still have all of my friends kind of safe and it's actually relatively stable, but it's so hard. That's all I can say. Being human is scary and it's awful sometimes.

I am optimistic that things will change. But in the meantime just know that I am trying so hard to get it together. That's why I'm sorry. I'm not together. But I am trying. You must know that.

And if you're in a dark place, I can't say that it'll get better with absolute certainty. But there are some lessons about unconditional love that I learned from dance. So hold onto those things that you do love, because they are precious. Don't ever forget that you're loved and you can love. They might hurt you, but for now, it's the greatest thing in the world, to love. Sometimes, it's awful, but it's not unbearable. Things suck. I know. But the sun always comes out after a rain. You can stand back up when you fall down. You keep going until the next good moment. That's what we need to stay afloat.

So thank you for still putting up with my shitshow life. I appreciate it so much. Thank you for holding me when I needed to be held and telling me it's going to be okay even if you don't believe it yourself. It means so much.

Stay safe, hold the ones you love close, and don't stop going.

Thanks for reading.

Let's Jump Some Canoes When I Shout Into the Void

Wednesday 31 July

This blog is not really going to have a coherent theme. If this was an essay submitted on the AP Language and Composition exam, I'd get like a 1 tops.



First off, HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY POTTER! Basically that series changed my life and I still spend my time scanning the skies for an owl with my stupid Hogwarts letter. I went from an awkward history nerd that read a lot of books to an awkward fantasy nerd who read a lot more books. And then I started writing, which is either the best or the worst thing that's ever happened to me. I'm awesome at essays but super introverted, which means that socializing is always just really exhausting. But I wouldn't really change it. It's broadened my mind and it keeps you dreaming. Anything supernatural—wizards, magic, alternate universes, fairies, superheroes—is going to reveal our inherent humanity, and I really think that's an important thing to keep examining, especially in the ridiculous world we live in today.

Plus it's kinda nice to get to a party and have the conversation steered to Harry Potter one way or another and basically have a nerdgasm with people you've never met. It's the greatest feeling of camaraderie. Maybe it is a granfallon (still on the Vonnegut binge), but I don't mind it.

Anyway. Moving on.



Secondly, when I heard that Kate Middleton gave birth to a son I did a happy dance at work. Ironic, since I was reading a novel on Thomas Cromwell who helped Henry VIII marry Anne Boleyn, who failed to provide a male heir. When asked what I was celebrating, I said, "THE DUCHESS OF CAMBRIDGE WON'T LOSE HER HEAD YAY!" and then had a great conversation about British succession.

Yeah I know I'm an Anglophilic nerd. I do what I want.



Thirdly, I'm not sure how the hell I'm supposed to stop binging on Netflix when I go back to school. In the last month, I've finished:
1. The Tudors—really freaking great, Jonathan Rhys-Meyers was brilliant and I'd recommend it to mature audiences that enjoy politics
2. Freaks and Geeks—I actually got my sister addicted to this late 90's cult classic and we both cried when it was over because it's SO GOOD, and also it's weird seeing young James Franco and Seth Rogen.
3. Season 3 of White Collar—because Matt Bomer. I love that show and I can't wait until Season 4 comes on Xfinity.
4. Camelot—meh. I can see why it was cancelled and a placeholder for Game of Thrones. Also, if any of you know where I can get Season 1 of Game of Thrones, let me know.
5. Sherlock on BBC—DELIGHTFUL. THIS SHOW IS PERFECT. I CRIED FOR TWENTY MINUTES WHEN SHERLOCK DIED BECAUSE EVEN THOUGH I KNEW HE CAME BACK (because it's Sherlock Holmes, duh) IT WAS JUST SO FULL OF EMOTION. And it was a brilliant modern interpretation of the classic stories—"A Study in Pink" was a fucking awesome adaptation of A Study in Scarlet, and "The Hound of Baskerville" was a great adaptation of The Hound of the Baskervilles—which, of course I've read both of those novels and thirty short stories because this is me. WATCH IT NOW.
6. Plus, I'm keeping up with the current seasons of Suits (really awesome legal drama on USA), Pretty Little Liars (my guilty pleasure show that I really shouldn't enjoy as much as I do), and Drunk History (because I like drunk people and also history).

I'm about to start either House of Cards from Netflix or Breaking Bad and hopefully finish one if not both of those series before school starts, because then I'm DONE until Thanksgiving Break (and that's not a binding contract, because if I have a bad week I'm just going to sit down and marathon Arrested Development to cheer me up).



Fourthly, I read this article as a followup to the mediocre Time piece on Millennials that my grandma sent me (since I'm too poor to afford Time).

I'm a millennial. I hate my job, but I'm so bored when I'm not working. And I hate that about myself.

When I read the Time piece, I first started thinking that I hated everyone in my generation, including myself. And then I started to write a blog about it and fully process the article and the comic, and I realized I don't actually hate everyone in my generation.

I just hate everyone in the most general sense of the word.

I realize this makes me a nihilist, and I don't give a shit. I hate Generation X for not taking responsibility for the mess we're in and instead are trying to patch things up. I hate the Baby Boomers for conforming to the capitalist bullshit that's warping our culture and destroying all sense of purpose, save for the consuming need for MORE SHIT that we don't require. I hate the Silent Generation for the Cold War and getting too comfortable with America being on the top. I hate the GI Generation because of their failure to do something about the blatant disregard for civil equality in the country until it was too late and people had to die. I hate the Lost Generation for sinking into apathy about the moral wasteland that is America and not doing anything. I hate our inaction and that we are basically just intent to destroy ourselves.

People suck.

And so on.



Fifthly, (connected to Fourthly) I read a 1996 novel by Chuck Palahniuk. It's more famous for the brilliantly done 1999 film adaptation. It has a bar of soap on the cover.

Fight Club.

Holy crap.

"You have a class of young strong men and women, and they want to give their lives to something. Advertising has these people chasing cars and clothes they don't need. Generations have been working in jobs they hate, just so they can buy things they don't really need.
"We don't have a great war in our generation, or a great depression, but we do, we have a great war of the spirit. We have a great revolution against the culture. The great depression is our lives."

And I realize me liking this book and these sentiments is kind of pathetic, because, yeah, I'm middle class and white; and boo-hoo I can actually self-actualize my existential crisis because I'm not worrying about like food and water and shelter and my first couple rows of Maslow's hierarchy is solid.

But that doesn't mean it's not important. Because this is the shit we all ask ourselves when we lay awake at night wondering what it all means and if it's all worth it.

And sometimes I do drive home from my banal (and absolutely pointless) job in this banal town and I wonder if this is what the rest of my life is going to be like. Having a flare of passion and then realizing that it's all just empty and broken and that an idea of something is never going to be anywhere near the real thing. I don't want to be disappointed. I want to get out of this great depression of life.

But when I do hang out with my stupid friends who play Bananagrams and make super shitty soda cake and shout at each other in Pit and sing off-key to "Party in the USA" and like Denny's and look at art; and when I'm able to go to classes and get inspired by new material and then prove I know what I'm doing when I get 105% on the final (yeah, fuck you stats!); and when my family can go an entire meal without getting in a fight, it's a temporary relief from the agony of living. It's a reminder that it's not all so horrible. That there are some halfway decent things to focus on and it's not all shitty. There are a few more things to focus on other than modern malaise. Like I said, it's not perfect, but it never is. That's the point.

And perhaps these are superficial reliefs, but I don't care. Live by the foma that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy, right?

So I don't know what I'd recommend for the Narrator. Everything will fall to pieces, but there's a little time in the interim to find your foma and try to live halfway genuinely. But what works for me may not work for him. I don't know. This is why I'm a scientist. I ask the questions and then try to postulate answers to them.

But what the hell is going on anyway, right?



Sixthly, I went to a small gathering two weeks ago in Boulder and had a great time hanging out with mostly Josh and Robin and Sierra and Christine. I then convinced three others to go to Denny's and SHOREH THE WAITRESS TOTALLY KNOWS WHO I AM. That either means I'm awesome or pathetic because I am literally a regular at that fucking diner. It's a weird life, but it's where I'm at right now.



Seventhly (Is that a word? I don't know), I HONESTLY DO NOT THINK I CAN MAKE IT THROUGH THE EIGHTEEN DAYS UNTIL I MOVE INTO MY NEW APARTMENT.

It's time to get back to Boulder and eat pancakes and arrive places and know there's something happening and have all of my college friends back and get away from this place that's poisoning my spirit (I know that's melodramatic, but I don't think you understand. I literally go for ten hours a day without talking to literally anyone and it's killing me. I may be an introvert, but I'm not antisocial) and be interested in things. I'm wallowing in a stagnating pool of ennui.

Summer is the bane of my existence. Why did I ever think it was a good thing?

(oh, right, because when I was young and innocent I wasn't as much of a cynic and stuff—by the way, this kind of internal monologue sometimes gets externalized, and I end up having an intense conversation with the perfumes in Victoria's Secret. I'm cool. Really.)



Eighthly (definitely not a word haha), I've climbed two fourteeners this summer and although I loathe aimless bodily exertion, I love it. I'm so stoked I live in a state where I can wake up at three in the morning and hit the trail at five and be on top of the world for about ten minutes of absolute bliss. It forces you to challenge the authenticity of your life.

Maybe that's what the Narrator meant. Climbing some mountains is vaguely related to beating someone to a pulp. It's pushing yourself to the limit of your existence and living closer to the edge. It makes everything else seem slightly less ridiculous. And that's what we need.



Lastly, I'd like to thank you for continuing to read this crap that I feel needs to be said. I don't know what it's doing, but then again, why do we do anything anymore? Epistemological crises are fun, and this little outlet is at least a little helpful for me to share the angst I feel. Thanks. You're the best, my space monkeys. :)

18 Days.

See you on the other side of July.

Basically A Rant in the Sun on English History, Because I'm Cool Like That

Tuesday 2 July

Well. The short story is that summer blows and I can't wait to go back to school in August. I'm really excited to see all my friends again on occasions other than the extremely sacred one of 2-Pi Day and not be bored out of my mind and take a class other than frikkin STATS and exist in the glorious syncopation that is Boulder, Colorado.

I don't know why the hell people ever come back to suburbia after they leave it. It's so banal. I'm sorry. Maybe that's why we're all so crazy. We weren't ever supposed to live our lives like this, amongst the white picket fences and perfectly groomed lawns and safe homes. I don't know. Maybe if you never leave, it's easier. But it's hard to be content anymore in this place.

So yeah. I work a lot. I've gotten really good at yelling at the rich bastards that park their Lexuses in the clearly labeled loading zone, tanning awkwardly (wearing a swimsuit in public is just plain embarrassing anymore...and I'm like kind of bikini ready, save for my stupid tan lines), and sweeping pinecones off the sidewalks. I've also perfected my skills with a leaf blower, which is pretty legit. Yeah manual labor!

I also got a ten-dollar tip the other day, and it was akin to receiving an earldom, because I am literally that broke.

The reason I like this job is because I get paid to read, basically. I've finished 18.5 novels whilst roasting in the sun this summer. And I couldn't be happier. I've been on a Vonnegut binge, and he's fucking awesome. Breakfast of Champions is probably the best thing I've read in two years, with Timequake a close third (ish—The English Patient changed my life, so that has to be up there). Like balls. He's so amazing. There's something just so frank and honest about his style that I just adore, and his whole worldview is fascinating and he can articulate the agony of humanity better than I will ever hope to do. I've tried some Ian Fleming, and that was decent. James Bond FTW. Now, I'm halfway through Catch-22 and that's hard to follow sometimes, but today at work I was laughing like a maniac in my perch for a good two hours.

I also got about three-quarters of the way through a behemoth of a book about Eleanor of Aquitaine, the Arthurian-applicable mother of Richard the Lionheart 12th century queen, who was basically the bitchingest lady in Europe since Morgan le Fay and until Elizabeth Tudor. She's a badass. An under appreciated, unduly forgotten female badass of history, and I think that's tragic.

I've got this really weird insane passion for English history. I love it almost as much as I love American Revolutionary politics, which is saying something.

So, it's only fitting that my current Netflix binge is The Tudors, a ridiculously raunchy, pseudo-historical drama revolving around the court of Henry VIII—you know, the fat bastard with the six wives. They are, as I explained to Ellie: The Religious One (Catherine of Aragon), The Skanky Bitch One (Anne Boleyn), The Ill-Fated One (Jane Seymour), The Lucky One That Made It Out Alive (Anne of Cleves FUCK YEAH), The Fucking Annoying One I Can't Fucking Stand (Katherine Howard—oh my god in the series I want to punch her in the throat), and The One Who's Pretty Much A Nurse For The Old Fat Bastard (Catherine Parr). English History with Maggie Rose. It'd be way better than any college course you'd ever take.

So basically even though some of it's remarkably inaccurate (like the fact that Henry had two sisters instead of just the one, and that Sir Francis Bryan came to court earlier, and that Wosley died before Margaret, and that Henry was an old fat fuck by this point in the series while he's actually kinda hot in the depiction), it's kinda cool to see it brought to life (especially since that involves Henry-"Pantydropper"-Cavill as the Duke of Suffolk, aka THE HOT DUKE, aka why isn't he single and I not a broke ass scholar with six dollars left to my name?).

I've also realized, with all this glorious history, that all I honestly want to do with my life is go to Europe and just sleep on trains and look at castles and churches and shit and maybe have a couple of good brews. Until that happens, I cannot die a happy and contented human being. It's been the only thing I've really wanted to do since I was eight years old and read my first book on Elizabeth Tudor. Like, this predates my desire to win the presidency. It's a Big Freaking Deal.

So if any of you want to go, like, get a couple beers and look at the scaffolds that historical figures were executed on, then hit me up. I'd be down with that.

However, another thing I wanted to do was be a princess, because, really, what eight year old girl DOESN'T want to be a princess. I now realize that being a princess prior to their being demoted to just head of state and nothing but a ceremonial figure would have been fucking miserable. Being a female, you had no rights whatsoever, excelling in needlepoint was the pinnacle of success, you were basically married off to the highest bidder, you were expected to be this perfect model of society when your husband could do whatever the hell he wanted, and if you didn't have a son, fuck biology; you're probably a stupid whore and it's your own fault. That is profoundly not the life for me, honestly. I need more autonomy than that, thank you very much. You can have your stupid fucking gowns and shit. I'll take my Ramen and doctoral degree.

Honestly, even being alive before the discovery of penicillin or whatever would have been fucking miserable. For Chrissake, the primary occupation was basically "DYING OF SOME TERRIBLE FUCKING DISEASE AND/OR CRUEL AND UNUSUAL EXECUTION." And quite frankly, if you weren't a wealthy man who was too stupid for politics, you were pretty much screwed one way or another. It is no wonder to me why they were such devout Christians—basically anything was better than what they were living, and even experiencing life as it was is probably enough to not want to go to  something worse in hell. Religion was literally the only source of hope for them. It's like Vonnegut said in Cat's Cradle—even if it is a pack of foma, harmless untruths, you have to live by those that make you brave and kind and healthy and happy. And religion did that for them, and even with all the things the church did to consolidate power, and even though I may not personally align with them concerning the meaning of life, there is indeed something noble in that they made people believe their lives didn't suck as much as they did.

Anyway. I like history. Especially when you really do start to look at it from a universal point of view and start to realize that your feelings are exactly the same as someone else's in this grand root system that connects us. It makes you think of why the hell we keep persevering on this swiftly tilting planet, and I think that's important.

Then again, I may have just been in the sun for too long, but you know. Maybe it's still important or something. :)

Anyway, I'm going to watch some more Netflix and study for my stats exam tomorrow. Maybe I'll blog again this week. Maybe. We never really know anymore. :)

Whoever you are, wherever you are, I hope your summer's going well and that you're soaking up the sun and that you keep moving forward and that you're staying hopeful because there are so many reasons to smile in these times. Thanks for reading. :)

Off the Grid: My Foray Into Swedish Pop Culture and Examination of Superman's Appeal

Sunday 16 June

Well hello. It’s been quite awhile. I go through periods of my life where I kind of go off like a cat or whatever, and isolate myself from social media and my friends and family and think about stuff and read a lot of books. My life is ridiculously banal in the summer and there isn’t much to report on—one of the signs you’re a gigantic nerd.

Mostly, I watch Arrested Development, read a shitload of books, and kind of cope with the fact that almost everyone I love isn’t within 3,000 feet of me.

I’ve established a sort of routine, which is really quite wonderful because I need structure or I go crazy. I wake up in the morning, take care of some business and read for awhile, then I head up to Boulder rocking out to the playlist I’ve made called “For the Metric Fuckton of Driving I’ll Be Doing.” It’s wonderful. I love to drive, and I think most people think I’m crazy, but whatever, you know?

And then I arrive in Boulder Colorado, and I can’t be happier. Coming to CU was one of the few good decisions I’ve made this year, and I’m so freaking thrilled.

However, orientation is happening on campus. Those kids are like, “Oh, hey, it’s a CU Student in its natural habitat! She must be so ambitious and full of dreams!” and I’m all like, “YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE GETTING INTO. DO YOU SEE ME? I WENT A WEEK WITHOUT SLEEP THIS YEAR. A WEEK. CAN YOU HANDLE THAT ON TOP OF YOUR DREAMS GETTING CRUSHED OVER AND OVER?”

This is why I don’t volunteer for orientation.

Anyway. Then I go to Quantitative Research Methods, which is Stats for Politicians, which is about as fun as it sounds. I mean, it’s kind of awesome since I kind of like the fusion of math and politics, but seriously, kids. It’s STATISTICS. My instructor was like, “I know this is a really complex math course, so don’t feel bad if you get a bad grade,” and I’m like, “Do not EVEN talk to me about COMPLEX MATH COURSES. Have YOU taken Calc III? NOPE, DIDN’T THINK SO. Come back when you completely lose it and pretend you’re the z-axis, and THEN we can have a chat about complex math. Kbye.”

So after an agonizing hour and a half, I eat lunch with my good friends Davis and Graham on Norlin Quad, and that’s always really fun. They usually forget their spoons for their sack lunches, which is always interesting, and we talk about how much we hated statistics and how physics is pretty cool and Harry Potter and how we’d be kicked out of Hogwarts because we’re inappropriate Americans.  It’s a good time.

Yup. Then I hop BACK in the car, jam out, and end up at my job at what I’ll refer to as “Bushwood” (aaaaand now that I’ve typed that out it just seems awkward. Fucking innuendo in Caddyshack). And there are worse ways to earn $8.25 an hour. Mostly, I read books and talk to members (one is a former senator in the state legislator and I sounded like an idiot because I’m bad at thinking on my feet when it comes to politics) and sweep pinecones.

I’ve gone through my entire reading list already, and it’s been three weeks. I’m. Fucked. I’ve read a few Gabriel Garcia Marquez, whose novels rather bored me but I still love his short stories. Kurt Vonnegut is the fucking man (Cat’s Cradle and Slaughterhouse Five fucking blew my mind—everything is beautiful and nothing hurts when you read him), and I really kind of enjoyed a book I read on immigrants in WWI. Because I’m a history Buff (haha get it?).

I’ve also decided that this is the summer of printed dresses and Swedish pop-culture. The former because I like wearing sundresses a lot in the summer (they’re the (literally) cooler, slightly classier version of leggings—you don’t have to give a shit if you wear them), and all of the ones at Target/in my closet are printed.

The Swedish Pop-Culture started when I heard Icona Pop’s single “I Love It” on the radio (you know, the “I crashed my car into the bridge, I don’t care, I love it!” jam—if you don’t I’m ashamed), and discovered I kind of love Icona Pop. Like wow. Look them up and jam.

AND THEN I READ THE GREATEST CRIME THRILLER EVER, THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO BY STIEG LARSSON. OH MY FREAKING GOD. AWESOME. I couldn’t put the trilogy down. I missed several members at work because I was too engrossed.

And then, because I’m a gigantic geek, I’ve discovered that I’m super interested in the Swedish political system, which is discussed in great detail in The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet’s Nest, and I am thinking I may or may not write a thesis dealing with a comparative analysis of either antidemocratic factions or constitutional law in various countries. And I totally know people currently researching in both of those fields. Fuck yeah!

So yeah. I’m that kid wandering around the library, jamming out to Swedish techno in a print sundress reading crime dramas and American dystopian tragicomedies while researching antidemocratic factions. It’s a weird life, but it’s where I’m at right now.

It’s a miracle, then, that people still kind of like to hang out with me. I’ve seen Crissie a lot (though we’re both pretty busy) and I saw The Group for the first time in literally fucking ages when we first hot tubbed at Crissie’s (thanks Crissie!) and then saw Man of Steel (which was alright—I liked the action scenes and um, two words: Henry Cavill. Also, really Zack Snyder? Lens flares are a JJ Abrams thing), and then we saw This is the End, and I almost peed my pants laughing, because it’s genuinely funny, I’m really mature, and I saw it with the group of guys that like to talk about dicks around me. Like I said, a weird life, but where I’m at right now.

But yeah. Sometimes I feel like everything is the same as it was last summer when we were young and infinite and so full of life, and then other times everything just seems so radically different because we’re all so damn tired. I just feel like I’m in some weird-ass limbo shit that I am not emotionally capable of dealing with. I don’t know how to reconcile this at all. Like ever. Does that make me crazy? I don’t know. And part of me knows that we’re never going back to what we all used to be and that it’s probably for the best since growth is necessary for survival, but sometimes I just miss how easy it used to be and the times we used to have. Okay. That’s all I have to say about that.

I also have to say I kind of like Superman. (It could very well be the rocking bod. But honestly, I like to think I’m rarely that shallow). He was the first sensational American superhero. He’s literally the quintessence of superheroism. He was first published in 1938, which was in the throes of a worldwide economic shitstorm and international conflict on a scale we’d hoped to avoid at the end of the first world war. He was a symbol of hope and social justice and fighting against tyranny.

And that just makes me wonder: Why do we need Superman today? Why do we keep remaking that particular superhero (I get the Spiderman remakes—Tobey, really? SPIDEY 3 KILLED ME)? What is it about him that makes us revisit him again and again?

Sidebar: His morality kind of reminds me of Lisbeth Salander a little bit—works alone, no compromises, no clear legal alignment, but with a clear sense of right and wrong and the need for bad deeds to be reprimanded (yeah, I really fucking loved those books). 

And I guess maybe we come back to Superman because he is the same thing as his father told him he’d be—he’s an ideal to strive toward. This is guesswork. I think it’s fascinating that we need something fictional to strive toward, because obviously the real world just keeps feeding us absolute bullshit to deal with. There isn’t much in this world we can turn to for hope. We’ve tried again and again. But there isn’t much to believe in. Maybe I’m a cynic; but hell, if I’m a political science major and am simply appalled by the political climate, there’s something deeply wrong with the world. Superman is perfect for this because he’s so much more than human. He’s literally out of this world. And yet, his morality and his compassion is the human element that we need so much more of these days. This is why I believe Superman is so iconic and we keep investing billions to make halfway decent (but not absolutely spectacular by any means) movies.

We hold onto this ideal of a man of steel because we still believe in an orgastic future that does recede before us, but we never stop chasing it, reexamining it, ceaselessly searching for that elusive something which we need. We’re hopeful, I believe, by nature. It’s no coincidence everyone we admire is someone beyond ourselves, presents some hope that our existence is not futile, that our banal existence has the potential to be so much more. We don’t stop dreaming. We’ll fight again. We’ll keep going even if we’re knocked down. And if that dream is embodied in a moral, compassionate alien who is literally invincible, then I’ll take it as a good thing.

So yeah. This is my life. Maybe I’ll post more. Maybe I won’t. We never really know anymore. Honestly. 

But in the meantime, thanks for reading :)