Chance Meetings and Satisfaction

Being awake at 4:45 am never fails to be a bizarre experience. Since I usually conk out around 11, being forced to be a night owl is particularly strange. I got kicked out of the library at 3:45, when the learning commons closes. Other than myself, there were, if I remember correctly (I probably don't) about 4 other stragglers. I struck up a conversation with one, an older woman, probably in continuing studies, wearing a long black dress and burgundy hijab, who'd fallen asleep in one of those irresistibly squishy black armchairs arrayed in the basement lounge area, underneath the stairs. I asked her if she'd gotten a nice nap, and she laughed and said she had, that she just couldn't keep her eyes open after a certain point. I told her I knew exactly what she meant. We ended up walking to PJs together, and joined the three others already in residence. It was a long night. My pillow never felt as good as it did at 5 am, this morning.

too tiredtiredtiredtiredtired for punctuation

Dear Imaginary Reader,
Yesterday was a bit of a fail, I'll admit, but I'm back on the ball today, and might even come in under the wire in my own time zone. Overall, it could be worse.

Today was mostly defined by
1) Stress. Today, I had to finish the resume I was up until 2 writing last night, and then write a cover letter...all of which took way more of my time and sanity than I'd expected it to. No idea what my "desired salary" is, since quite honestly I'd just be happy to be paid, period. Oh, online employment applications and your endless potential tripwires

2) Lack of Sleep. I've been running on empty the past few days, and it's starting to catch up with me. Unfortunately, this looks like it'll be a recurring theme for the next 4-5 days. This should be interesting.

3) Trying to be creative under the strain of 1) and 2). As you can see, this was not overly successful.


Yours, from the world of BEDA!fail
Cody

Playing Fast and Loose With the Time Zones

Yes, yes, I know, Imaginary Reader, it's only the SECOND day of blogging and I've already fallen behind. Yes. Very aware. That said, for the time being, my spirit lives in California. So there.

For the most part, I spent my day
1) Waking up
2) Falling back asleep
3) Attempting to wake up periodically over about an hour and a half until it finally took
4) Working out
5) Reading the Great Gatsby

Admittedly, only 5 is at all interesting to anyone - myself included. Though I wasn't able to plow through the novel quite as quickly as before, that's probably a good thing, all told, because I picked up on sparkling little details I skimmed over entirely last time, and (much though I'd balk at labeling myself anything close to a New Critic), all the same I enjoy seeing details fit into the tapestry of larger ideas and narratives and neuroses that run deep through the novel.

Then, I was unproductive for about 5 hours, and went to see the Vagina Monologues. I really enjoyed the experience, even though some of that experience was more uncomfortable than enjoyable, simply because I understood going in that my feeling uncomfortable talking about all this (sexuality, pleasure, physicality) was in and of itself a way in which society is caging us - all of us, men included - from talking about sex as something more than a punch line or dirty and subversive. I want to feel less uncomfortable talking about sex, because I feel uncomfortable with the notion of being brainwashed into feeling uncomfortable to begin with.

Hope that you weren't uncomfortable enough to stop reading, O Imaginary Reader (though I suppose if I go to the trouble of imagining myself a reader, she or he would be diligent enough to finish what they started) and that all that disjointed ramble made more sense to you than it did me.

I feel like I've done my BEDA duty, so now I'm going to get to BED, right after I write my schedule of alllllllllll the things I laughably think I'm going to be able to accomplish tomorrow.

Until then, Imaginary Reader, I say adieu!

Inconsistent and Arrogant...Does It Matter?

*walks in, swipes an index finger along some furniture and picks up dust, raises an eyebrow at an infiltrating ant colony*

Well, it's been awhile, hasn't it, O Imaginary Reader? I say Imaginary because, in all likelihood, this blog will pile up, unread, part of the huge glut of material the internet churns out on a daily basis, and no one (except a few friends in the interest of humoring me) will ever read it. Even more so, since I'm a notorious internet raven (I like something until something shinier comes along) this blog goes through periods where I post 4-5 times, and then abandon it for anywhere from 6 months to a year before I slink back, shamefaced, and give it another go. As a record of my day to day life (trust me: not really blog material) this has pretty clearly failed. So...why am I back, and why am I writing? Well, the direct answer to that is that I've agreed to be involved in BEDA, which, for those not hip to the world of Internet Memes, is an acronym (not an initialism, since this IS pronounceable!) that stands for Blog Every Day in April. The reason I'm committing myself to this project is more or less the same reason I put myself through what was simultaneously the most grueling and most rewarding experience of my life thus far: writing a novel in 30 days (well, technically 45 days, because I went over-wordcount, but minor detail, that), spurred by NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month).

Also, I saw something today that formalized an intuition I'd had for awhile. For the last 3 years, a musician named Jonathan Mann has been writing a song a day, about whatever he feels like: politics, general geekery, nonsense, viral videos, etc. The theory behind it all, for him, is what he calls the 70-20-10 hypothesis. It goes as follows: out of everything you write (sing, create, compose, etc, same holds true) 70% will be cringe-worthy, 20% will be mediocre, and 10% will be truly good. That may seem like pretty dreary odds, but the more you write, the bigger that 10% is going to end up being. So, in the hopes of producing at least 3 blogs (out of 30) that might possibly be worth reading, here goes. Right now, as far as people I know, Scarlett, my fantastic and peerless twin, is joining me in BEDA, but YOU SHOULD TOO. Yes, you. Comment on this post if you're willing to give it a shot, and we can team up; mutually reading and encouraging and all that jazz.

Now, on to your regularly scheduled 70% drivel.

Since this is a project centered around the blog - a totally (or relatively) new phenomenon - I wanted to talk a little bit about aspects of this Blog thing that interest me. The foremost is...why the hell do any of us do it? Sure, there are some people for whom blogging is more of a formal, every day, living-earning business, but for the vast, vast, vast majority, it's just sending scribbles out into this vast aggregate of text we produce every day, work published in a completely public forum, but usually published with next to no expectation of dissemination or a widespread audience. My first inclination is just to label the blog the dysfunctional, kooky, slightly more arrogant cousin of the journal, but I'm not sure that's true. Traditionally, there was a huge and rigid industry that acted as gatekeepers of the written word: if you didn't please them, you were sunk. Now, even if the overall readership is the same (next to zero), we FEEL as if our words MIGHT matter to SOMEONE, and it's always possible that someone might stumble on our post. Unlikely as hell, but possible. Anyway, this is a longwinded way of saying why I'm still a little uncomfortable making this blog about ME -- because I'm next to certain my life isn't interesting enough right now to warrant a play-by-play. My goal is going to be to talk about my day, sure, if anything interesting happened, but more broadly try to tie it to something I personally find interesting.

I'm running out of steam, but one last quick thing.

Has anyone ever heard of/read Francis Fukuyama? BRILLIANT political development theorist who came to speak at Tulane and totally blew my mind. According to his theories, what was the main catalyst that drove Europe out of the tribalist funk that every civilization had to pass through and towards what he defined as a more modern, impersonal, non kin-centric state? The Catholic Church. By establishing a divine code which was commonly accepted to supersede the rule and the whims of any given leader or any given government, it gave Europe a strong concept of the Rule of Law. Additionally (I'll admit, I found this the most fascinating) part of the reason that the proscription against priests marrying and having children came about because the church, wanting to "purify" the church, didn't want priests to appoint their family members or to pass on the parishes to their children, and in so doing broke the tribalist pattern within that institution...since tribalism relies on family ties.

I'm buying his book as soon as it comes out April 12, and if that was interesting to anyone other than me...they should buy it too.

Peace, Love, and Happiness
Cody

Interview Woes

I swear, there's an "interview gene" and I don't have it. I can be perfectly personable, and make some facsimile of witty, intelligent conversation when I'm talking to Joe Shmoe coming through my line at Wegmans, but during one of the few times in my life when someone's actually judging me on the basis of my ability to conduct such a conversation, my vocabulary shrinks to that, charitably, of an mildly illiterate 12-year old. Normally, words take the freeway out of my mouth, zooming off my tongue so quickly that they cause some head-on collisions on the way out, but during my interview, they seemed to be content with dawdling along on the back roads. Apparently they had better things to do than help me in my time of need...traitorous little things, they are.

But if you think a few errant words are bad, then you should see the state of so-called ideas! When they're entirely unnecessary and gratuitous (i.e. my contemplating what a great reality show could be made out of an on-campus scholarship competition...I mean, really, bring that many type-A personalities together, offer money and academic opportunity, and watch the sparks fly) and those mischievous little buggers are the equivalent of mental weeds -- they pop up everywhere. During interviews, however, I guess they decided to spite me, hiding just beneath the soil with only their googling eyes tantalizing me from above the ground- giggling at my floundering misfortune.

If I start sleuthing around in search of a silver lining, I suppose I could find one in just how SPECTACULARLY I bombed the interview...at least I went down with a full-throated laugh line in the back ground. Within the first 60 seconds, I somehow managed to misunderstand the stock market, mispronounce one of the interviewer's names, and unintentionally misconstrue the benefactor of the scholarship as deceased, when he's still very much alive and kicking (probably in my direction, not that I blame him) at 72.

Next week, I have a series of interviews, these ones on-campus, at a school I absolutely love and would give (almost) anything to be able to attend. Maybe another silver lining of this cringe-worthy experience was that now I know my own weaknesses, and, hopefully, can avoid these rookie pitfalls next time.

The Inescapable Affliction (or "What I Do Instead of My Lit Essay")

Even as a staunch advocate of comprehensive health care reform, I realize there some contagious and startlingly pervasive diseases that even a publicly proctored insurance option can't help to treat.

Diseases like senioritis.

Yes, I know, it's a cliche. But take it from the horse's mouth here, people (despite my distaste of having to fit into that particular equine metaphor): it's real, and it's threatening the work ethic and productivity of previously top-notch students all across this great nation.

Once, we were the proud nerds of the school, the ones who looked to be in training for some sadistic marathon that would necessitate our dragging 30 pounds of dead weight across distances ranging from 100 feet to 1/2 a mile, and still get to class in under 6 minutes.

Once, we regarded the most minuscule, meaningless tests as no less than a defining moment within our academic careers, our own personal Waterloos, as it were. I swear I occasionally caught bars of epic John Williams music tinkling in the background.

Once, we didn't just get papers done on time, we got them done a week ahead of time, and spent countless hours fiddling with sentence structure, as our half-closed eyes flitted between the 5-page word document flickering in our eyeline and the red digital clock proclaiming it to be "1:34 AM" taunting us from our bedside table.

Once, we were snotty little juniors who proclaimed that only slackers got senioritis, and that it would, of course, NEVER happen to perfect students like us.

I have watched the greatest minds of my generation fall waste to indulging in beloved childrens literature, and semi-legally watching 90's era television. But, you know what? Maybe that's not such a bad thing. After all, we've worked our collective ass off spilling our souls into college essays, and in 7 months or so, we'll doubtless be back to our old, slightly anal-retentive selves. So, for awhile, let's just prop our feet up on our pile of barely touched textbooks and relax.

Cuteness Decreases Worldsuck

I am bad at doing things. Yes, I know this is vague, but it’s intentionally so. When I’m around people, I put on a pretty good show of being this whirlwind of activity who always has things to occupy my time. But when I actually get handed huge heaping dollops of time…all of those wonderfully productive activities I’d been jotting down on my mental list for hours or days beforehand suddenly get wiped off by the giant eraser hiding in my subconscious and I can think of nothing worthwhile to do. Therefore, I usually end up spending my snow days/time-on-weekends-when-not-working doing one of the following things:
-Sleeping. This generally occurs in my bed, but can also spontaneously occur on that devastatingly comfortable leather couch with a view of the television or own the ripped sheepskin rug directly in front of the wood-fire (aka the only source of heat since I swear our central heating system is BROKEN. Ugh. I can haz April now?).
-Reading. When I feel like being intellectual, I’ll dig my way into a book and stay there for awhile. The annoying thing about my current reading habits (or, sadly, lack thereof) is that whenever I try to read my body decides to start sending me signals that it would be rather doing the above activity^. The last book I read cover to cover (something I’m trying to get myself to do more often, Resolution-style) was As The Great World Spins by Colum McCann. I’m still a little bit overwhelmed by the sheer scope of the novel, which, not to spoil anything, paints intimate portraits of 12 subtly interconnected people living out their radically different lives in NYC circa 1974(3?), unaware of the webs that bind them together, all while a spontaneous cross-Manhattan tightrope walk unites the city in a more visible way. These people range from a computer hacker using the new ARPAnet to reverse connections and call pay phones to hear the latest news about the rumored aerial stunt, to a tripped-out artist trying to put the pieces of her life back into some semblance of meaning, to a rich housewife trying (with varying degrees of success) to cross class lines to mourn her son’s death with other surviving mothers. I’ll stop, since I realize I’m starting to sound like a dust-jacket summary, but this was a delicious book with utterly gorgeous prose that tied together different voices in one of my favorite literary strategies of all time.
-Eating. I know, I know, not a good habit. But honestly, whichever of you HASN’T ever grabbed a tub of Edy’s from the fridge and proceeded to attack it with a spoon while vegging on the couch can throw the first stone. Anyone? That’s what I thought
-Listening to podcasts. Since I’m a nerd, this usually consists of political shows (which make me feel informed, suicidal, and homicidal by turns), history shows (Of course I didn’t once listen to a 7-part podcast that retold and analyzed the history of the British Empire for a straight week..), and random culture/literature/conversation shows. Occasionally, I listen to one of Slate.com’s several podcasts, which I enjoy except for the fact that every single one of those hosts has a vocabulary that Merriam Webster would commit assault with a deadly dictionary for, and enjoys flaunting that fact, so when I listen to too many of those consecutively the underlying elitist condescension can start to clog my mental arteries with annoyance.
-Youtube hopping (v)- The act or practice of going to Youtube intending to watch one video, and then proceeding to while away huge swaths of time by clicking on the “Related videos” or “More from ____” playlists. This consumes startling amounts of my time if I’m not careful…

One funny story about the last of these wretchedly wonderful time-wasters: Just now, I was youtube hopping from the Vlogbrothers, and Sophie (adorable 16-week old kitten) perched herself on my shoulder and started watching John Green talk through a box on my screen. Also, when I first picked her up from her former home, Sophie wouldn’t stop crying, and so in my frantic efforts to make the ball of fuzz in the carrier stop making me feel like a sadist, I started singing “The Weapon” by Harry and the Potters…and she stopped mewing pitifully.

The conclusion of this highly disjointed blog: My cat is a Nerdfighter, and I’m a lazy bum.

I’m going to go get dressed for work, so I can check out drunken college students at the grocery store for 6.5 hours minus a state-mandated half-hour lunch.
Peace. Love. Happiness. Kittens.
Cody