Weekend Update

My opus, my thesis, is finished. "Feminine Reading Practices and Literary Compatible Mates in The Mill on the Floss and Middlemarch." I am exhausted, brain-dead, and getting ready for a week of adventure in my old haunts in NYC. I graduate on Wednesday.

Post Midnight Notes

- There are far too many 'i's in 'illicit.'
- It's late, I'm writing a paper, and I don't want to watch 10 things I hate about you. Not to speak ill of the dead, but is it possible Heath Ledger took the paper-writing magic with him?
- Any way you look at it, bildungsroman is a funny, funny word.
- I fear I am quoting too extensively from Carla Peterson's 'The Determined Reader.'
- I just wrote the following sentences:
"The potential literary compatible man announces himself as such within the text with the presentation of a literary love token of some sort. This often heralds the beginning of his courtship." <-- Yes, okay, that is what I want from a man.
- Why is it so much easier to write at night? Even the air distracts me during the day.
- Will I ever get over needing to constantly rewrite my papers? Maybe...if this is my last one.
- Oh, wow. Wow. This could (and right now, we're hoping this is a definite) be my last academic paper EVER. Woohoo!

And 'very promising' ain't half bad...

For those of you who wonder what I'm attempting to write my thesis about, here is a fairly garbled and simplistic summary, which I emailed to my professor earlier today:

The focus of my thesis has become the solitary female reader. Improperly educated and unable or unwilling to fit into her allocated place in society, her identity becomes her reading material, in a sort of Lacan mirror phase. The women I am focusing on here are Maggie, Dorothea, and Rosamond. Better educated men are able to become engrossed with a subject without it becoming the main function of their identities (Lydgate, Farebrother, and I am also planning on including some excerpts from "A College Breakfast Party"). The right man- a reading compatible man- can facilitate the woman's education and save her from obsessive identity reading. Ultimately, George Eliot advocates a reading compatible relationship between a man and a woman. I think some biography about her and Lewes' relationship is appropriate here, though I don't want to go overboard. Textual examples are Mary/Fred and the Garths. I am also looking at the ways Maggie/Philip, Maggie/Tom, Dorothea/Casaubon, Dorothea/Will, Rosamond/Ned, Rosamond/Lydgate work and do not work.

My advisor's reply: "This sounds very promising." So, good. Okay then. Now I just have to finish writing it. And do a lot more reading. And maybe not use phrases like "I don't want to go overboard" in my scholarly communications.

'Tis a pity affirmations can't write papers...

I am a lovely, intelligent and capable woman.

I have written far more in far less time. Thirty pages (9,000 words) in less than two weeks? Ha. Child's play. I've written 20 pages in a matter of days. I've written 12-15 pages overnite.

And who cares that I've lost all drive and focus? I've lost these things before. They're hard to fake and harder to find but not impossible to do without.

Sure, I don't have a concrete thesis, just a mish-mash of ideas. So what? Thesis= totally overrated. I have read innumerable papers throughout my graduate school career that, I swear, didn't even have a thesis.

So what if this is the most important paper of my life, and that if I don't get this done, I've essentially flushed two years and fifty thousand dollars (or so- I refuse to look at my student loan bills until I have to start paying them) down the drain?

I WILL get it done. That is the key thing. The main point. The thesis of this blog (not really, but still).

I am a lovely, intelligent and capable woman.

And the Egyptian wing was never secret...

Thoughts while lying in bed this morning:

- "It's a good thing that childhood friend of mine doesn't have cancer and I'm not going to fall in love with him and have lots of sex in the secret Egyptian wing of our house."
- "The coffee maker is waking me up now? The coffee maker? It is official: I will never get a full night's sleep in this house."
- "Maybe the reason our culture is so screwed up is because of the word 'I'. Our word for the self is always solitary and capitalized. I is important and I is isolated. Of course, I only know how to say I in three other languages, so maybe English is not such an anomaly."
- "SHIT! I forgot to let the dog out last night. Wait, no. I am housesitting today, not yesterday."
- "I am never going to get this paper done. Never. There is not even a faint glimmer of hope."
- "Why was I dreaming about that kid anyway?"
- "If I keep moving my foot, the cat might attack it. Yep."
- "Okay. Time to get up and start working on that paper. Or get breakfast."

Literary Tourism

I have just returned from my two day research excursion at the Beinecke Library at Yale. It was extraordinary. Almost enough to make me want to get up this life plan of possible mediocrity and popular fiction to sink back into the grottoes of Academia. Almost.

Well, maybe not.

I had to continually remind myself to stop being a tourist and become a researcher: a cold, calculating research machine, looking for answers to questions I wasn't quite sure I was asking. I couldn't. Instead, I asked for boxes containing materials I didn't need so I could check out notes for a novel that was never written or ogle Charles Dickens' signature. I took sneaky cell phone pictures of the more interesting artifacts ("Began Middlemarch"). I spent time caressing diary pages (with my eyes, of course, not my hands) in a loving way, not caring so much for what was written but how it was written. The written word has always instilled a sense of wonder in me, a wonder that graduate school has done its best to beat out; but as I sat in the reading room, diving through boxes and boxes of literary treasures, I felt that wonder sneak up and then rush over me.

This is the first time I have tried so thoroughly to get inside an author's head- reading her thoughts, touching her things- and it can't be done. You can't be in someone else's head, no matter how much you like or even understand their writing.

I am not sure how beneficial this visit was to my actual research. I think it has prompted more questions than it answered and I could certainly have gleaned much of the same information from just reading published copies of Marian Evans' diaries instead of making my head ache over her tiny, cramped scrawls. But it gave me a feel for her life and her attitudes about so many things. And it has actually made me start thinking of her as Marian Evans, to the point where I kind of feel awkward referring to her as George Eliot in my work.

Why do we still call her George Eliot? It wasn't her name, after all. And she isn't the first woman to publish under a man's pseudonym and later be revealed. Charlotte Bronte originally wrote as Currier Bell, but we now call her Charlotte Bronte. It's strange that we don't do the same for Evans/Eliot, and I wonder if it has something to do with her scandalous life and the many names she lived under (Mary Ann Evans, Marian Evans, Marian Lewes, Polly, Marian Cross). Maybe it's easier to just stick with the identity she used for her books and leave it at that. But I want to call her Marian Evans.

Jammin' Pizza

So, I have a small collection of homemade jams/jellies right now, since I did a bunch of canning when I was back in Maryland for Thanksgiving Break. My love of canning is another reason why New York City and I are probably not meant for a lifetime commitment. Anyway, I made Pomegranate, a recipe I have tried before, to great success, and a new recipe for Apricot Pepper Jelly.

Apricot Pepper Jelly is the most delicious thing I have ever made with my own two hands and, as a result, I want to eat it on EVERYTHING. The latest discovery? Jam Pizza.

Recipe for Jam Pizza is as follows:

- Get some pizza crust like substance. Various forms of pita or flatbread will suffice.
- Lightly coat with olive oil. Broil...or, whatever you do with pizza. I broil.
- Spread Apricot Pepper Jelly on crust. There is no such thing as too much jam on this pizza, but you don't want to run out like some people (me), so use sparingly.
- Spread pizza sauce on top of Jelly. Favorite sauce thus far is a Spicy Tomato Basil by Classico.
- Add toppings. Any will do. I have tried: red peppers, meatless crumbles, and chickpeas.
- Sprinkle cheese on top. Main coat of cheese should be a general pizza cheese: italian mix or just mozzarella. Then sprinkle some gouda on for extra deliciousness.
- Sprinkle pizza with cinnamon and paprika. Broil until it looks done.

I am assuming other jams can be used as well, or there would be little point in my sharing this (rather imprecise) recipe.


In other news:
- On the paper writing front: I look like I am surrounded by the remnants of a book tornado. I cannot wait to be done this paper, and yet I want time to stretch out, giving me as many minutes as possible to complete my task.
- On strange, paperwriting malaise: I have cried twice today already. Once because I caught the last five minutes of Life is Beautiful during my lunch break. Once because of something I read in The Amber Spyglass during another break. While this may sound like I spend most of my day taking breaks and crying, I assure you this is not true.

The CrAzy, eMoTIonAl staTe Of a PaPeR WritER

For some reason, I tend to get sad around paper writing time. Sentimental. Wistful. Lonely-- almost angsty-- with a slight, tight pressure in my chest that reminds me of past hurts but is probably the result of panic.

Okay, I say "some reason" like it's random and I can't understand it, but actually there are a few specific reasons.
- I spend a lot of time alone and in my head. Which is never good.
- Paper writing is the end of the semster: i.e. the end of an era, which is always somewhat sad in itself.
- I am very stressed, I am not sleeping enough, and I see very little sunshine. The combination results in a mental state very much like the worst PMS.
- I am looking for reasons to ignore my paper, and reminiscing is a good way to do it. And while reminiscing with people makes me smile, laugh, and feel good, reminiscing alone generally produces the opposite feeling.

See how reasonable and, truly, easily avoidable this emotional state is? And yet, I sink down into the bog, the mire, every paper writing period. Boo.

Luckily, after the paper writing comes much celebrating and general merriment. Plus, I suppose, the accomplished feeling of having written/triumphed over my papers. So it's all worth it in the end.

Hello from the Paper-writing Front

The end of the semester is upon us! Twelve days of madness and then sweet, sweet holiday season respite.

I am currently working on two papers. One is on The Problem of Space in Oscar Wilde's Salome and The Importance of Being Earnest (due last semester...must get rid of my big, fatty incomplete). I have most of the research and outlining done on this paper, I just have to write it. Okay, that's a lie. I have some of the research and outlining done on this paper.

The other I've done a five minute presentation on, but I really just started researching it. It's on the dedicatory poems prefacing Aemelia Lanyer's Salve Deus Rex Judaeorum and her morphing of the poetics of courtship to fit a same sex but not homoerotic purpose.

I just finished a group wiki project for my Economy of 19th Century Print class. You can check it out here. It sort of proves the crazy extent of specialization expected of us in English Academia. And yet it was such interesting work.

Boo, grad school? Yay, grad school? A bit of both, as per usual.



On the Christmas shopping front:

I think this is hilarious. But is it funny if you actually have a new baby? I hope so.

For those of you playing along at home...

This semester's paper topics are:

- Adventures in Literacy: Creating a Masculine Identity of Reading in American Boy Books
- Maggie Tulliver's Patchwork Identity
- Blurg Oscar beep Wilde smergish food Blurg spectator Blippity blip Victorian Theater blurp

We Might Have Company...

...possibly aliens one hundred trillion miles away, on a planet crappily named '581 c'. My favorite part of this article? Astronomer Michel Mayor calls this a "nice discovery." Use your words, Michel.

In other news, I have two and a half hours to finish this Rossetti paper. Only about three pages left. I'm golden.

Save the Moneymaker!

It's that time of year again, folks: paper writing time. Which means...expect more posts.

Tonight's topic: my skin. I'm fast approaching twenty-five (gross), and I've noticed my skin looking older. Or, at least, I think I've noticed my skin looking older, which amounts to the same thing.

More little wrinkles on my forehead and under my eyes. A sort of general mottled effect. So it begins. Old skin. It's all downhill from here.

As soon as I have the money, I'm getting a good facial. Right now, I'm drinking so much water I could practically float away. Water is very important to good skin. It gives you that hydrated, glowing look.

It kind of seems that the advice for good skin follows the rules for good health in general (example, here).

I'm freaking out here. I'm too young for this, but time doesn't seem to care. My best skin years are behind me. I'm single, and my best skin years are behind me. I will never have the skin of a twenty-three year old again. My skin was beautiful at twenty-three.

Any skin care advice would be greatly appreciated.

Issues and Complaints

- My cat has taken to falling over sideways. She'll be fine, running around like the spaz she is, back and forth, length-wise across the apartment, and then just stop and keel over onto the floor. This can't be good. Is there such a thing as kitty vertigo?
- I JUST decided what I am writing my 20-25 page paper about, due Wed. evening. This is the fourth topic I have 'decided' on. Hopefully, fingers crossed, knock on wood, it will be the last.
- I am still only five pages into my other, 15-20 page paper. At least I have a definite topic. Knock on wood, fingers crossed, hopefully.
- I still have not finished my Christmas shopping. How am I supposed to do this, when I must constantly write papers?
- My Christmas package from La Gap started in Ohio, traveled to NJ, traveled to NY, and is now, according to tracking, BACK IN OHIO. Why? WHY? How am I supposed to get this by Christmas? Why would it go back to Ohio?
- I am out of food. And diet coke. I will have to leave the apartment. I don't really remember the world outside, but I feel it's unsafe.
- I will also have to leave the apartment to visit the library and use 'microform'. I have never used microform before. I am NOT looking forward to it.
- I have not had a haircut since I moved to New York. Ew.
- My gym membership is totally going to waste...on account of my never leaving the apartment.
- It is becoming difficult to walk through my small bedroom, as it is covered in books and printouts from literary journals.
- I can't remember the last time I did laundry. I might be running out of clean underwear.
- My vocab is slipping. I say "eff this and eff that" all the time. And the word 'Whatever' (sometimes as 'Whatevs,' which is worse). This morning my roommate and I slumped on our bright red couch and orally wrote the new hit children's book, "Eff you, Moon."

And on that cheerful note, I return to my paper writing.

I have no title for this blog.

I have stumbled into a morning where commonplace thinking becomes very difficult (after all, it just took me three tries to type 'stumbled'- forgive all typos in this entry).

For example: this morning's shower. I had to think very hard about whether or not I was wearing any clothes. While standing under the water, I still was not fully convinced that I wasn't. Then, I had the following mental dialogue: "Is this shampoo or conditioner? Shampoo or conditioner? The bottle says conditioner... hmmm...Conditioner." Then my glance fell on the face wash, and I thought: "F--- you, face wash!" The face wash, I assure you, had done nothing to warrant such a sound mental thrashing. It was merely sitting on the side of the tub, being face wash (originally typed: 'fash').

I know I had a point with this blog. It is eluding me.

Hmmm...

Anyway, last night at eleven o'clock, I decided that the paper I had been writing about Wallace Stevens for two weeks was unusually bad. I decided to write a paper about Robert Frost instead.

Usually this kind of mania deserts me after half a page and I return to finish the original paper.

By 2 AM, I had four pages and by 5 AM, I was rounding out eleven. All that remains now is a few finishing touches on a paper leaps and bounds above the original Stevens concept.

Paper must be turned in at six-thirty. I must go to work now. Head is a foggy, foggy mess.

When I realized I had totally lost track of the Wallace Stevens paper...

"This music is the music of the poem Peter Quince and not music produced by the individual players of the poem. It is an important distinction."

I paused. I read that sentence. And I said, outloud, to my empty apartment: "I have no idea what I'm talking about."

Those Crackpots and These Men

I love the guys in my grad school classes. Well, the ones I actually know and spend time with socially.

They are a new and unusual phenomenon.

I have never before been friends with men in my field. There were about two of them in the English department back in undergrad. My male friends were in other fields or in theater. I discussed literature with women outside of class (I remember one incident that involved yelling over the resolution of Jane Eyre in the Quad) but not so much with the other gender.

It's just so refreshing to talk to men who are interested in literature (and most of them more interested in literature than I am) and then have a beer and talk about television (postmodern aesthetics of LOST or just general plot points) or stupid drunk things we did at parties and then talk about our take on Derrida.

Anyway, I'm spending the weekend in bed with Wallace Stevens. Or on the couch. And I'll probably mix some 10 Things I Hate About You in there, since it is my paper writing Muse.

But for some reason, I can't sleep right now, even though I'm exhausted. So guess which West Wing episode I'm watching?

And then I laughed

marriedtothesea.com

If you've been spending a lot of time lately reading late eighteenth/early nineteenth century seduction fiction (guilty) and proscrastinating on important papers by writing blogs (also guilty- see last three entries and this one), this comic just hits home.

And when I'm really tired of Wallace Stevens...

I take useless online personality quizzes.

Which West Wing character am I?



The idealistic speechwriter is well-liked by just about everyone. He's known for his excellent writing, sense of humor, and tendency to be clutzy. Although being younger than the rest of the staff, he's often treated as so, much to his dismay.

:: Which West Wing character are you? ::

I scored Toby on a different one. I think it's the writing thing. But Sam works much better for me than Toby.

Also, I would focused more on idealistic in Sam's description (except for when he comes back at the very end of the show and is mean and jaded...but we don't count that as real Sam) and the part about being younger than the rest of the staff isn't true, cuz he's the same age as Josh, and I don't remember him ever getting upset about being treated as younger.

Mallory: Don't play dumb with me.
Sam: No, I am dumb. Most of the time I'm playing smart.

This is me paraphrasing off the top of my head, but it certainly describes how I'm feeling about these papers right now...

Sigh. Anyway, back to Wallace Stevens. The paper used to be about 'Music, Gender and Sexuality in the Poetry of Wallace Stevens'. Now it is about a bunch of notes I typed out that I'm having trouble fitting together. I liked the old topic better.

Totally Whelmed by this Paper...

I've been thinking very hard about this (while writing a three page paper on all the theories I've encountered that say we can't find meaning in literature), and I have decided that '10 Things I Hate About You' has been the most quoted movie of my life. It beats out 'Empire Records' in high school (and that is a hard thing to do...after all, "My name's not f***kin' Warren" is still popular) and all the movies my sister and I quote (even harder to do). But I know this is true because I've been watching the movie while writing my paper and every five minutes an oft-quoted quote pops up.

Actually, just kidding. My sister and I quote other movies more than this one. But still, this movie is fabulous and good and absolutely essential to movie writing.

And if you want to revel in the utter quotability of this movie, here are some choice opportunities.

Narnia-riffic

I saw my first preview for The Chronicles of Narnia last night. I'm very excited for it, even though I know the film will totally change the gender roles present in the book. The Lord of the Rings attempted to do the same thing but could only go so far with it (as there were hardly any women in the story to begin with). But I bet The Chronicles of Narnia will have Lucy and Susan fighting and zipping around and being treated the same as the boys.

I'm okay with that. There are differences between film and literature. The subtle, more passive roles of Lewis' girls wouldn't make as interesting viewing. Also, this is a Disney flick and a lot of little girls will be going to see it, and they should have strong, positive role models. Then when they get a little older and read the books or think about the books, they'll start to see how the girls were portrayed differently. And they'll wonder why. And they'll wonder why Lewis created Lucy and Susan and the witches and Polly the way he did. And then they'll become English majors.

I think this calls for my senior thesis...

While Lewis’ inclusion of major female characters into his children’s books and the masculine world of the quest is progressive, this gender equality is undermined by Lewis’ religious agenda.

I promise, that is extremely impressive in context.


And that's my favorite picture from my presentation on my senior paper. It's Susan.

Anyway, it seems likely there will be many Chronicles of Narnia movies to follow. People expect the movies will incorporate the same characters, Harry Potter-esque, and they will not. It all jumps around with a character here and a character there and sometimes the Pevensies are grown-ups and sometimes they're children. It'll be complicated.

I'm also wondering how much of the religious analogy (NOT allegory) will be included.

And now I'm getting back to work. Or starting to work. Whatever.

Oh wait! But this is the movie I am most excited about for the coming cinematic season- Serenity.

Not only because I am in love/lust (you can't really combine the words 'love' and 'lust' effectively, since they are both short and start with 'L') with Nathan Fillion but also because it is about Space Cowboys. And Cowgirls. And Space Hookers. And based on my favorite (read: only) sci-fi television show, Firefly.

This has been another Geeky Movie Update. Until next time...keep watching geeky things!