Yesterday was a good day. Why? Because it was absurdly beautiful and sunny, and I spent over an hour outside being dorky under the sakura. And then I watched the moon ninja episode of Planetes. XD
I also, apparently, completely owned on my final paper/presentation in philosophy, because my group got a perfect score. I almost feel bad about that, because I know I could have done more research and really dug deep in my argument -- but I do also realize that this was a three-week project, and we could hardly find all there is to know about racial separatism on college campuses (our topic) or discover all the arguments based on each separate perspective of what, precisely, race is. I do think my professor could have been more demanding of us, though ... I guess I'll settle for being happy, and just feeling a little bit bad.
I had my Japanese oral interview yesterday, too, and that went well -- or so I believe, because by the end of it nerves and adrenaline had combined to make my professor's words blur into an incoherent and faintly Japanese-sounding buzz. I *think* she told me とてもよく出来ました at the end. At the very least, it was a とても-something, and she doesn't really say any bad とても-somethings. (With the possibility of とてもよくがんばりました, which is sort of a "hey, well, you tried really hard ..." but I'm pretty sure it wasn't that. XD;;) I also got a perfect score on my essay -- my first of the quarter -- so I feel good going into the final tomorrow.
And today, well, today I don't have any class, just work in about four hours. *And*, I just called in, and my hardship excuse for my jury summons went through! I was delighted to the point of having a short argument with my roommate's cat as to why he should look more excited for me than he did. Of course, I'm theoretically rescheduled for July, but a) they may not call me, and b) at least that's not during the school year. Missing work would suck because that means less money for rent, but it sucks much less than missing classes because ... well, because. <--no sense of priorities
Thursday, February 17, 2005
09:17 p.m.
My New Year's resolutions for both 2003 and 2004 involved not allowing myself to wallow in periods of low self-esteem or frustration. I said it, dammit, so I'm going to do it.
I also found this old entry, which I'm going to put up here again because I need to see it, and remember that I once felt this way almost two years ago and still survived.
Friday, December 27, 2002
You know what they say about not appreciating something until it's gone? It really annoys me when 'they' are right. XP
It would be stupid to say that writing used to be easy for me -- "A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people," quoth Thomas Mann -- but it was ... clear. I would still spend hours on a page, like I do now, but it would be for something I *knew* was coming. I knew that some unusual and lovely words were just waiting to be dug up from my head; or maybe hanging suspended, to be carefully pulled down and arranged. When I think of my strengths and weaknesses, I know quite well that plot construction and flow and pacing are things I need definite work on, but, you know, prose has been something that I've been relatively proud of. I mean, when I get going I can really get swept up in it -- probably too swept up, sometimes, but oh well XP -- and there's even some laughably old stuff that I still consider to have a touch of that certain quality, when I go back and read it.
And I'm not going to wail and moan about the irrevocable loss of my muse or some such melodrama, but -- it's getting a touch annoying. ^_^; I've had a sense of writer's block before, but didn't know if that really applied to me because it wasn't like I *couldn't* write at all. Even on the bad days, when I sort of wrestled with things and the words remained some amorphous blob, I still knew they were in there; and at some point they'd crystallize, and I'd have what I need. More recently I've become more aware of what it's really like to feel stuck, when it's not just 'hard to do' but not *doing* at all. Right now I'm at one of those low points, where it all feels distinctly hollow, and nothing's coming -- nothing's even *there* to wrestle with. It's like I'm just reaching blindly, and sort of draaaagging words to be put on paper.
I'm probably just out of practice. I'd say it's sort of like a stiff joint, something I just need to exercise a bit till it stops creaking -- but even so. It's a bother, and it's frustrating, and I'm going to whine. Whine whine whine. XP
It helps, to be able to look back and see how I once felt -- about everything, but especially writing. Writing has been such an important part of my life -- and I think, despite everything, it still is -- as a tool for shaping and making sense of the world, creating and expressing, and remembering. I think it's vital that I remember the effect words had on me and how I used them -- once did, still can -- and try to let them fill that role again, even though I know that right now they no longer do. Better that than let myself think that the way things have gone is the way things will or ought to be. (What is true now says nothing about what should or must be true.)
I don't think I'm making sense. But I need to remember some things: You can change more in yourself and your life than you could even conceive of. Everything can be made better. If life is a gift, then you fulfill no obligations to your creditors by merely surviving. Don't be afraid of things you'll be ashamed of being afraid of later. If it weighs you down, get rid of it. If you love it, make it work.
Friday, February 11, 2005
03:59 p.m.
Mmm, barefoot in the office. I don't know why, but today it feels especially good to not be wearing my shoes. :D
Today was my Japanese oral exam. Finished in about half the time as everyone else seemed to take, and kicked much ass. Go me.
In other news, apparently there *is* something else in our house that can break. We'd thought for a moment that maybe we'd exhausted the list, but no -- Myra's room's ceiling is now leaking. Whee.
And, perversely, I'm feeling very happy to be alive today. Or maybe it's not perverse; after all, the past 24 hours have been something of a trial, but what better way to be reminded of the caprice and general vicissitudes of life? (To say nothing of the ability to be pretentious and use words like 'vicissitudes' and 'caprice'!) This is not to say that we aren't moving out, out, out the first moment we can legally do so, buuuut ... life is about stuff happening. And stuff is happening. Isn't that neat?
Thursday, February 10, 2005
04:42 p.m.
So, I've determined that my philosophy class is apparently my instant cure for insomnia, should I ever need it. I don't know why; I'm interested in the content, for the most part, and I enjoy listening to my professor. I just have a tendency to space out during lecture, and more often than not I'll blink and realize that five or ten minutes have passed in which I've been hearing her talk but not listening to a single word. No, I don't know what's wrong with me.
Anyway, this afternoon, we were going over some different models of racism and its moral status, and my professor was discussing personhood. Specifically, she was talking about why it's not just the fact that we're alive, but that we're persons, that gives us a kind of moral claim that, say, most animals do not have (well, not according to some people ... but). She added that, "But then you get to dolphins and apes, and the line's kind of fuzzy." Except I heard it as, "But then you get to dolphins and apes, and the lion's kind of funny." And I spent a solid five seconds trying to puzzle out why lions were included in that list, and then wondering why it was significant to their moral status that they were funny.
Um. Anyway. Today was the workshop of my first story for short story class, and it went decently. I think I've been spoiled, though, by the fact that I'm in a writing club that holds hour-long (or more) critiques of a single piece; in class, on the other hand, we do three per day, and have about fifteen minutes for each one. I feel like people got to *mention* questions and ideas they had, but then it was over. Luckily, I scheduled a conference with my teacher after class, and we got to talk for a long time just about my story. It's so wonderful to be able to have a conversation (whether with one person or not) about a piece of writing, because then I can ask questions, and clarify, and bounce off suggestions, as opposed to a critique in which I can't talk and have to just let people talk at me. I feel like she had a pretty good understanding of what I wanted to do with the story, though I think in some senses she was operating on that mindset that says, "Here's the formula for 'good writing,' so you should do it like this," without really considering if I wanted to do something differently on purpose. Which I suppose is to be expected, in a beginner level course; sometimes we aren't getting things right because we're dumb, not because we're literary geniuses. XD
I'd like to rework this story at some point, though probably not in time to turn it in for the class. I have to do my second story some time in the next two weeks (eep), as well as a research project in philosophy, and so ... once again, I think writing will have to be put off. I could probably raise my grade, though, since I got a 3.7 ... but, besides not really having the time, I don't actually care all that much. It's a fair assessment of what I did. Yes, I probably could have done better (especially given more time), but I don't mind getting a not-perfect grade. Part of this is me just being less anal-retentive about my GPA, but part of it is also the fact that I think this course does merit a lower grade than others that I've taken. This *is* something I'm not very good at, not like I'm good at writing analyses of literature or taking essay exams; and I'm learning; and I'm okay with my grades showing that. I'm more okay with it than I was, say, the first time I broke my 4.0 and I knew it was just because I didn't keep up with the assignments in the course. Something like that is maddeningly annoying and tortures my OCD nature. Something like this, where I can acknowledge that perfect scores *aren't* within my ability, is acceptable. Still bothersome, but bothersome in that way that makes me want to go and improve rather than rage about some missed grade points.
How sad is it that this is something of a revelation for me? :P Shhh, leave the poor Type A personality alone.
Sunday, February 6, 2005
10:49 p.m.
Yay for finishing my short story assignment! :D I'm going to give it another read-through tomorrow, to see how I feel about it, before turning it in on Tuesday. I wish I had finished it earlier like I planned, so I'd have a longer amount of time to let it sit before going over it again, but, what can I do. (Well, get things done when I say I'm going to, but shhhh.)
Yay also for story research, which makes my sister go WTF when she comes in and I've got several websites on miscarriage open. It's a good thing she knows me enough that she doesn't really start to worry. XD;;
Saturday, February 5, 2005
01:27 p.m.
So, I am valiantly (or not so valiantly) attempting to write my short story, because my turn for workshop is Thursday (for which I need to turn it in Tuesday). And, having more or less defeated -- or at least, sufficiently distracted -- the problem of no-fantasy-elements-will-make-this-godawful-boring, I sit down and open up Word. And ... nothing. I have my character, or at least the abstract conception that turns into a character once she actually starts interacting with things in the story; I have her general situation, as is pertinent to the story; and I have her emotional state, conflict, and eventual resolution. But ... I have no idea what's going to happen.
I ran across this post about plot. And besides a lot of general helpful pointers, there was also a mention of the relationship between premise and execution. Namely, that the two are the components of plot. And I think that's what I'm usually missing: execution. I used to think that I couldn't come up with plots, but then, I get little ideas all the time. I just don't know how to do them. Which is, I realize, a result of the lack-of-execution thing. There's the cool premise that could make a great story, but if I don't know how to get from point A to point Z it's never going to get written.
I suppose this shouldn't have been so hard to recognize. It's a common problem, isn't it -- the hack who has Great Ideas but can't write them. Admittedly, it's depressing. But, identifying the problem is the first step, right? Or something.
And now to get back to writing, or attempting to, while trying to dodge among obstacles of Boring, Trite, or Pretentious in the midst of writing about normal things and normal people. Oh, 'literary' fiction.
Friday, February 4, 2005
04:33 p.m.
The State of the Union address, translated for those of us crazed hippie liberals who are just totally jealous of Bush's Mary Sue and just don't get the World/Freedom OTP. XD
Thursday, February 3, 2005
09:58 p.m.
Thank you, Metaquotes.
And now, back to work.
Monday, January 31, 2005
03:49 p.m.
Yay for Fandom Wank and its amusing icons and amusing quotes:
"I am afraid that this book and upcoming film will encourage Americans to restore at least one of these stereotypes. To see Japanese women -- and by association, all Asiatic women -- as nothing but gentle, delightful, passive, and utterly powerless little personal servants of men.
Seems a lot more important an issue than the nationality of the actress playing Sayuri."
You know, just like House of Flying Daggers, Hero, [and] Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon will make [everyone] think that all Asians can fly.
... I would say that I need something to do while I'm at the front desk, but the thing is that I *do* have things to do. It's just that I can only take so much of the tedium of reviewing files. Blah.
Thursday, January 27, 2005
11:48 p.m.
I finished my writing assignment for short story class. More than that, I wrote. A very brief, but complete, fairy tale-like story, about 1200 words. It was ... a wonderfully familiar feeling, to be playing with words again. I haven't written poetry for a while, and I haven't written fiction for even longer. And there's something about not writing (at least, for me) that makes it feel like every time I stop being able to write for a while, I stop being able to write, forever. Well, perhaps it's not quite that dramatic. And being able to write this isn't quite as dramatic as being able to write, forever. But it's something. After not writing for so long, after not accomplishing the writing I tried to do over the summer, after feeling very badly about my writing -- though not my poetry, but that almost made it worse, to feel like my poetry was so much better -- it's comforting to have accomplished this, and, what's more, to be satisfied with this. Small as it is.
It's sort of odd, saying this, because it's certainly not the first writing assignment I've done this quarter. But it's different from the others in that it's longer and more complete than anything I'd done earlier, and I could also incorporate fantasy elements into it. None of that non-genre blah I've been spitting out. (Though that apathy is something I'll have to deal with, as well ...) And it just felt better. One of the best ways of getting myself feeling creative is to immerse myself in other people's creativity -- prose or poetry, depending on what I'm writing -- and that's what I did. Granted, I spent an hour or so surfing LJs, but that's how I ended up stumbling upon a piece of original writing that did the trick. It was just a snippet, but it had that ease and confidence in its prose -- that sense that the writer is leading the words on a dance -- that brings awe, envy, but most of all, pleasure. That makes my mind say, I want to do that like her. And then, most importantly, I want to do that, but like me.
I tried using Kajiura Yuki's original album, Fiction, as a soundtrack, and it worked. I ended up listening to it twice straight through. I should have known, I guess, because I would use her Noir soundtracks when I was writing "From the Ashes," back in the day.
I also happened across a lot of interesting things while LJ-surfing, which is completely irrelevant to the writing, but still fun. For posterity, or something:
From the lovely Metaquotes: mockery of Bush, creationism, the bourgeousie, people who feel the need to ask why someone's a virgin, bad sex in fanfic (or maybe that's sex in badfic), and, finally, "the children."
Fandom Wank gets (sort of) serious, with a discussion of the "Cult Of Teh Pretteh."
And much love for the default icon.
I should probably go do something productive now. Or sleep. That might be good.
Friday, January 21, 2005
05:07 p.m.
Aaaand, as of about two minutes after 5:00, everyone in this office has left but me. o_o I don't really mind; it's nice that it's quiet, and I can keep working on my current project without interruptions. It's just when I look down the hall and see all the closed doors and darkened cubicles ... I'm a little lonely. :P Once it hits 5:30 I can go and meet up with people. And I guess I could leave early, but, for one thing, I would like to get paid since I'm here anyway, and for another, working every other day as I have been this quarter has meant that I don't make as much progress as I'd like on my tasks. So, until then ... *waits* *ignores dark hallway*
Monday, January 17, 2005
02:45 p.m.
I heard about this a few days ago, but now I have details: RENT in 2005. XD XD XD Look at the cast! No Fredi Walker, which is sad, and no Daphne Rubin-Vega, which is *really* sad -- but still! Taye Diggs! Idina Menzel! Adam Pascal!! *geek geek geek* *happy happy happy*
It's directed by Chris Columbus, which, judging from the first two Harry Potter movies, means the adaptation won't be particularly inspired; but at least it will be faithful. Too bad it didn't end up being Spike Lee, though. XD
Monday, January 10, 2005
04:10 p.m.
Okay, so I've gotten the sarcastic/condescending "dear," "honey," what-have-you while answering phones in the office. This time, the woman on the phone started *off* with a snide "dearest," then finished off with a cheerful, "Have a happy new year, dearest! I look forward to meeting you! <3" o_o I'm confused. Then again, she seemed rather frazzled, as she called from the post office, where she was trying to send some transcripts to us and to people in other departments of the school (except she wasn't sure *who*, and the person she'd been in contact with wasn't answering her phone). I'm never sure whether to give these people more slack for being in a stressful situation, or to remind them that they're professional caregivers and, um, shouldn't have bipolar reactions in response to pressure.
... and then this was just followed up by a call that also took over twenty minutes, this time from a guy who basically wants to be a nurse but doesn't know where to start. Not that this is a bad thing at all, but it's sort of difficult to try to describe all the programs he can choose from, how to get into them, how long they take, what you qualify for and when, etc., over the phone. Guh. o_o Plus, there was only so much I could tell him, in terms of what he should be doing. It really bothers me when people start asking for general advising, either for their education or their employment, because ... I'm just sitting at the front desk. I'm not in any official or knowledgeable capacity, and I can't tell you what to do with your life, or at least the next few years of it. Um ... I'm glad you want to be a nurse, and I can tell you basic stuff about the programs, but please don't tell me about your personal life. It's too bad that you have a latex allergy, and I'm really glad you want to start up your own clinic to deal with that, but if you're looking for validation, I'm not the one who can give it to you.
And speaking of advising ... it seems like the front desk is a place of general therapy sessions whenever things get slow in the office. I'm not sure if this happens with everyone who sits out here, but at least on the days that I'm out front, coworkers have a tendency to stop by and have a chat about their lives. Which I'm happy to hear, but ... these chats tend to involve long-standing gripes with the job or workplace, or deep dissatisfactions with life. It's not like I can give out advice -- most of these women are over twice my age -- so all I end up doing is smiling and nodding, sometimes with a lame interjection that amounts to, "Um, I hope your life stops sucking." In any case, I'm extremely uncomfortable with giving advice -- real advice, not just generic well-wishes that end up sounding like platitudes -- to anyone but my close friends, and even then only if I know all the details of their situation. One coworker in particular sounds like she'd be happier if she went back to school and finished her degree, but what can I say to her? "Yes, you've been out of school and working for decades, and have a family to maintain -- but what the hell, quit this job that makes you unhappy and go study what you want"? I'm quite aware of how naive that sounds, especially from a twenty year-old who knows nothing about marriage, kids, and living solely off her own income. And really, having heard a few minutes of her venting doesn't mean I'm able to assess her life and figure out what would really work for her.
Yikes. Heavy stuff. I'm done out here, so I need to go and get back to real work.
My newest dorky joy of the moment: playing X-Men: Legends with my boyfriend. I get cuddling *and* advice on how to defeat Master Mold, without having to leave the couch. <3
Friday, January 7, 2005
03:36 p.m.
Yay Friday. This first week of classes has been good, but busy, and I look forward to the weekend. Two more hours of work, and then I'm gone.
Classes look promising, though I can't say much beyond that because two of my courses only meet two days a week. One of them is Beginning Short Story Writing, which is rather intimidating -- even moreso than Verse Writing, I think, in part because more and more lately I've felt more confident in my poetry than my prose writing. (Just my luck to go for the writing field that is even more likely to leave me starving on the streets, hm?) Of course, in a sense it's just like Dragon's Pen in a classroom, and I know that being experienced with workshop critiques is a big advantage. However, there are also a bunch of people I don't know, as well as a teacher -- and the addition of an authority figure inspires irrational fear in me -- and finally, we're doing non-genre fiction. All of these things can really start to freak me out, if I let them. Which I try not to. But still.
The professor for my race philosophy course won me over on the first day when she started off by acknowledging all the limitations of this class (the perspective from which we're reading and thinking, the social mechanisms and manifestations of racism that we're going to have to omit, and the fact that we only have ten weeks in which to examine race as a whole). She also laughs a little at the kind of obscure ideas or reasoning that philosophy can get you to, especially in the case of practical problems like race and racism, which is just the sort of attitude I like. If philosophy is a critical analysis, a sort of taking apart and poking at why we do and think what we do and think, then it makes sense that it should ... well, make sense. I'm really bothered by high-flown constructions of reality that involve all sorts of things that we *should* know or *should* believe if we're enlightened enough, but look like something the writer made up without any grounding in real observation, real experience, the real responses of people. Actually, things other than philosophies bother me like this -- Marx's idea of community and "species-being" is a philosophy that does, but some postmodern literature and, to a lesser extent, Freudian psychology, seem to do the same thing.
Aaaanyway. Tangent. I just like the spirit of criticism, or even mockery, that my professor seems to have. So does my teacher for short story, too -- she seems willing to criticize the readings we're doing in class just as she would our writing, to say that yes, this is published, but it can still need improvement. I do so love a healthy sense of self-examination, and especially self-criticism. It's sexy. XD
So, this weekend. I'm hoping to finish my X-Men: Legends game, because I think all I've got left is the Magneto fight. It also looks like I'm going to karaoke tomorrow night (eep). And somewhere in there, I'll do homework, too ...
Oh, and my dorky joy of the moment: talking philosophy with my boyfriend. <3
