Something in my gut tells me I should be deeply embarrassed about this, but I’m having a difficult time concentrating on my thesis because there’s a Real Housewives of NYC marathon on Bravo right at this very moment. The Real Housewives has become a guilty pleasure of mine that I’m no longer all that guilty about. Last year it was Degrassi: The Next Generation, however, I’ve tired of the Canadian teen angst and now the rubbernecking beauty of the Real Housewives has drawn me in, you know, like a terrible train accident. I can’t look away. I’ve never witnessed such unadultered crap. I love it.
First of all, I’m not sure if any of the NYC Housewives qualify as “housewives”. Two are unmarried. All of them work outside the home in one capacity or another. And, they don’t do housework–that’s what their “housekeepers” are for. But, nonetheless they circulate in a magnificent world of parties, fashion, and socialite bitchiness. Oh how I love it. They don’t even try to hide their snobbery. For example, Bethenny and the Countess Lu Ann de Lesseps lunch at a Hamptons restaurant and complain about how touristy it has become, “and not the right kind of tourists.”
The Countess, is by far my favorite in terms of snobbery. She never feels bad about being privileged, prices on dresses, “don’t matter so much”, as she tells her daughter on a shopping trip when her daughter asks, “how much is that?” And, the Countess is a maven of manners. Nothing was more hilarious than watching her teach inner city girls in Brooklyn about manners and self-esteem. To see their eyes collectively glaze over filled my heart with more glee than the prospect of being set free in Michael Kors to buy whatever my heart desires.
Oh, and the time Jill gave an interview to the BBC and tried with all her might to express her feelings on the economy was also quite entertaining. The interviewer looked absolutely bemused and I thought that was just absolutely fabulous, especially when he says to her, “It’s hard to see crisis around here.” Jill then lectures on spending less than you have, which of course is easy for her. Did I mention how much I love this show!
Dear unnamed company who rejected me,
Thank you very much for the form letter informing me that you could not offer me employment at this time. I felt a lot better knowing that despite my “impressive talents” you decided to hire someone else, who I am sure also has impressive talents. My impressive talents are nothing but a cold comfort when I think about my “impressive” student debt, my lack of health insurance, and the possibility that my inability to pay rent in the next few months will lead me to a job at Starbucks or Walmart (although my dad says there’s nothing wrong with that, because you do what you have to do).
My impressive talents have been a comfort to me much in the same way that being told that “I love spending time with you, I am attracted to you, and I think you are quite remarkable but I can’t be in a relationship with you because I need to be alone right now” was a comfort, or rather made me feel terrible about myself despite all the impressive compliments preceding the blow. But no matter, I got over that and learned an important lesson: Just say what you mean instead of worrying about hurting someone’s feelings because it will happen despite your failed attempts at tact.
Company who rejected me, I must admit I am not that upset I didn’t get the job at your esteemed institution. You were not my dream job. I think its just that I’ve been toiling away all this time in graduate school because of the promise of expanding my job opportunities and building a better life for myself. Instead of all my dreams coming true, I’m in the precarious position of an uncertain future. Who knows how many more rejection letters will fill my inbox? I just hope the swine flu avoids me until I get a job with health insurance.
Three people are shot dead near the University of Georgia and authorities are looking for a university professor in connection with the shootings. I’ve been saying for the last three years that people in academia have more mental illness than the general population. Are we crazy for attending graduate school? Some of the most miserable people I’ve ever met (including myself) are pursuing higher level degrees. I’m surprised I haven’t had the big one, dove into the deep end or became a cutter. If you’ve spent three days straight with no sleep in front of a lap top computer, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
Killing people is not funny, and I am not making light of the situation in Georgia, however, I can’t help but think of so many of us with mental illness who don’t get the proper treatment. I wonder if this recent event has something to do with that.
Guess what MSNBC: I will not be following your all-day coverage of Obama’s First 100 days. You wanna know why? Because 100 days is the most arbitrary number by which to assess anything or anyone. One hundred days go by so fast, and really, that’s not a lot of time. How can anyone get anything big accomplished in that amount of time? I took over a year to write my thesis proposal, so imagine if there was all day coverage of the first 100 days I worked on my thesis. This is what it would sound like:
Chris Matthews, Andrea Mitchell or whoever: “Here we are spending a 24 hour news cycle, yet again talking about nothing because we have so much time to fill. We are now going to take a look at what Jen has accomplished so far.”
Chris or Andrea: “Hi Jen, how’s that thesis coming along? We hear you’re still working on your proposal.”
Jen: “Well actually, (Chris, Andrea) I can’t deal with it right now. I had three anxiety attacks just today, and I have three papers to write, and I think my thesis sucks, and I think I’ve just wasted the last year and a half getting a Master’s degree. So, as you can see, judging my accomplishments by 100 days seems quite pointless. Go away, and seriously, try to remember that you are a news service. Go find some news.”
Yeah, so I’m not really sure that anyone can accomplish anything great in 100 days without declaring Marshal law and rounding up all the silly Republicans in Congress so they can’t block stuff, you know, like stuff that could actually save the economy or fix the health care system, or find a real solution in the Middle East.
And, I have to go back to work on my thesis or the next 100 days are going to be meaningless.
by jen on February 17, 2009
Having been so inured to George Bush after eight years, almost to the point where I thought he was a chronic condition, that now when I hear a sentence starting with: “the president…” my brain thinks Bush when it should be thinking Barack Obama. I don’t even believe Obama is the president. I think this is one of those really good dreams that seems so real that even when you wake up it seems as though it happened.
by jen on January 20, 2009
For me, the lasting image of President Barack Obama’s inauguration (omg-I can’t believe how good that sounds!), is not the magnificent millions of people jubilantly crowded through out Washington D.C., not President Obama (omg!) taking the oath next to his awesome wife and adorable daughters, and not the sheer joy of seeing Dubya fly out of town. For me, the lasting image is Dick Cheney coming out in a wheel chair. He looked lumpy and disgruntled, like the way I felt when I was a kid at Kmart with my mom, fearing that someone might see me there, and think that’s where I got all my clothes.
The site of Dick in his chair hearkened back to the time he was photographed at a Holocaust Memorial wearing a heavy parka with that same old grump face like a kid whose mom dressed him in that coat against his wishes.
I’m not one for conspiracy theories, but I don’t think Dick really hurt his back. I think he had to be forced out of his undisclosed location and the only way to get him to the inauguration was to wheel him out.
by jen on January 8, 2009
I stood in front of my window this evening and watched the snow. This time of year not only makes me feel suicidal, but it often makes me forget that winter in Syracuse does not last forever, and eventually, sometime in the middle of July it will stop snowing and then the temperature will shoot up to an unbearable ninety degrees with the humidity at one hundred percent. I was thinking how late it was on this dark, cold, wintry night and then I looked at the clock and it was only 4:30 p.m. That gave me a second of hope, because I had plenty of time left in the day to finish my thesis and despair.
As I watched the snow fall, I also watched people walk in the street instead of on the sidewalk. This is rather odd to me, because I don’t understand why one would put him or herself in peril by walking in traffic when there are perfectly good, snow-cleared sidewalks all around. I’ve only witnessed this street-walking phenomenon in Syracuse. Syracuse is not a rural wonderland of dirt roads and wooded paths. Syracuse is a city with sidewalks! By gosh, use them! And, when you’re on Erie Boulevard, stay out of the road with your children, lest you and your children end up on someone’s wind shield.
Perhaps these Syracuse street-walkers have seasonal affectation disorder and they want to die so they can escape Syracuse’s endless winter.
by jen on December 17, 2008
by jen on December 16, 2008
Where have I been? I’ve been neglecting my precious little blog, I know. However, I’ve been busy, you know, living my life away from the computer. Thanks to antidepressants, a new lovelife, a sick mom, and a concerted effort to get my thesis proposal out of my hands and to my defense committee, I haven’t had the time to bemoan the past–I’ve gotten the chance to look toward the future and it looks a lot better than my usual pessimistic self will allow. I’ve even learned some important stuff that I will share with you as quick as possible because I have to get back to working on my thesis:
1. I’m an adult, for real. My mom was really sick a few months ago, and I took care of her. Yeah, it was so stressful, but for the first time ever, I actually felt like I could do anything, that I could deal with anything that came my way and could greet it with a modicum of grace and purpose.
2. Living with a good friend, a dog, and a cat beats living alone. And its been remarkably good for my mental health. I hardly ever want to tear down the walls anymore. Now that I live with my friend, Phil (and fellow top paper prize winner), his dog Louie, and my cat, Sid Vicious, I seem to enjoy my every day life. Perhaps I’m not so damned lonely anymore.
3. Having a boyfriend is good, but having one who actually gets you is nicer. Enough said. I try to avoid sentimental shit.
4. I’m ambivalent about Sarah Palin. I want to support all women in politics because we are so, so underrepresented. However, she is the dumbest thing I have ever encountered and a little piece of me dies every time she opens her mouth. Yet, her coverage is predictably gendered and biased. Fuck Sarah Palin for making me feel so torn.
5. I am a fan of sweat pants. I lived in sweat pants when my mom was in the hospital and fuck it, they are comfortable and I completely understand why people wear them all the time. I want to wear them all the time. I look forward to changing into them at the end of the day. Sometimes I even wear them in public. Don’t hate.
6. Boxed wine is a perfectly acceptable form of libation. As a matter of fact, I’m drinking it right now. I never wanted it to be this way, the wine snob that I am, but the economy sucks, I’m broke, and you get more in a box than you do in a bottle. So what if it tastes like grape juice? At least I can still get drunk.
