sta·sis n. 1. A state of balance, equilibrium, or stagnation.
I think I've stagnated here.
I just don't know what to write.
This summer I'm working to save for school. As a result, my blog has dried up and died.
It's a weird feeling, considering I've been a blogger for close to five years now. Despite this, I do intend to resume posting my whimsical observations.
posted by Vanessa @ #
10:59 PM
Monday, April 23, 2007
I would describe myself as having been an ardent feminist when I was twelve years old. In contrast to this, there was a time during my first year at university where I loathed the word feminism because of a prof who related absolutely everything to feminism -- even male homosocial relationships. It was as though I had overdosed on feminism.
I used to think that thanks to the women (and men) of previous generations that I was priviledged to live in a world where I did not experience discrimination or predjudice because I am female. As a result of this, I didn't think I could understand or appreciate (the need for) feminism. However, I realised that although I have become more refined and articulate instead of ardent and brash, I still and have always believed in equality between women and men.
Today I learned first hand that there is still a need for feminism today.
I have heard that there is still pay inequity between women and men. As I am not yet working in "the real world," I have felt largely unaffected by this information. Last week I applied for some jobs in an attempt to escape minimum-wage slavery and gain more meaningful work experience. I had two interviews today. The first one this morning went really well, and I left feeling really good with visions of a summer filled with Andy Sachs-type temporary office work. (Yes, I'm ashamed to admit I've seen The Devil Wears Prada and that the fashionista in me liked it. I'm certain I'd loathe the book.)
The second interview left me feeling the antonym of upbeat -- I actually thought of it in those exact terms. The thing that he asked me that struck me in particular was the question:
"Do you live with your boyfriend, or do you live with your parents?"
I think I hesitated to answer this because I was so shocked at the question. I like how he assumed I had a boyfriend. (I happen to, and have been seeing him for almost two months now.) But, what difference do my living arrangements make to my ability to do a job? I responded to the question with a vague, "I live at home," and left him to assume whatever he liked about my living arrangements.
Maybe I'm too sensitive and am making a big deal of this, but I doubt that a male would ever be asked this question in a job interview.
posted by Vanessa @ #
7:01 PM
When I was younger I underwent orthodontics. My teeth were fairly straight to begin with, but as I understand it, orthodontics was a fad in the 90s because it became more affordable, and I guess my parents had money to spare. As part of my treatment, I had headgear that I had to wear at night. I was horrified about anyone finding this out, so I'd have bad dreams of people coming into my room and ridiculing me.
About eight years later, I'm having bad dreams of people ridiculing my messy room. I've been fairly disgusted about my living conditions for a while, and I have done some small cleans of it, but they haven't been long lasting. The mess of paper, books, schoolwork, and clothes just regenerates too quickly.
posted by Vanessa @ #
12:42 PM
Monday, April 02, 2007
Although I've been pretty anti-CBC as of late because I find it all together too Toronto-centric -- I'm sorry, but I don't like it when the morning news is interrupted for a live press conference on how the OPP has apprehended some sick s.o.b. because quite frankly, my city has them too, and I'm pretty sure Toronto's morning news isn't interrupted to let them know -- I'm pretty excited that Peter Mansbridge is broadcasting The National from my hometown tonight! It makes me feel like the CBC cares about me, and that I'm part of Canada too.
posted by Vanessa @ #
5:24 PM
Sunday, April 01, 2007
I don't think I'm dealing with the situation very well. I'm going to meet my T.A. tomorrow to figure out how my overall mark would be affected if I didn't write the paper that's due Thursday at 3:00p.m. or for an extension. Given that it's Sunday afternoon, I still have a load of time to get this together. I just lack the motivation to finish my current paper because I don't feel as though I'm saying much of anything, and starting this other one. Oh the dilemma's of a smart student. I totally knew this was going to happen, I did so well last term, that I could be less than perfect this term and still have a respectable GPA. I think.
posted by Vanessa @ #
2:07 PM
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Today was pretty much a normal day in every way, except for the fact that I turned twenty. Celebrating Saturday.
posted by Vanessa @ #
10:49 PM
Monday, March 26, 2007
I'm glad the cashier at the big impersonal grocery store didn't pretend to be interested in how I was doing because I am in a shit mood. Why else would I be purchasing a box of knock-off Oreos and the finest in fashion literature if I wasn't trying to prevent myself from relapsing into anguish?
Lime-Spearmint candle, check. Oreos, check. Glass of milk, check. Magazine, check.
posted by Vanessa @ #
10:26 PM
I am a university student. But I feel more so at this particular moment: In light of a looming deadline, I decided not go attend my first two classes so as to spend the morning writing a portion of my paper that has been getting the best of me. I found myself actually being productive. But now it's got the best of me again, so I've decided to go to school and meditate on the topic while sitting in other lectures.
It's also the second day of sunshine in three weeks of solid rain, so I'm wearing my Birkenstocks (yes I'm West Coast) and sunglasses.
posted by Vanessa @ #
11:58 AM
Thursday, March 22, 2007
This always seems to happen to me. But then again, I can't exactly qualify it as "always," as last time it happened was nearly three years ago. I guess the bright side is I can only attribute it to teen angst for another six days, at which point I guess it just becomes angst.
I'm attributing it to just curiousity as to what he could possibly need to ask me "in person" next time he sees me, but really, I think I must have a pathological desire to break hearts. But why should I care if, amongst everything I have going on right now, he's the last person I want to make time to see? (Curiously well timed with an increase in the frequency of me kissing the boy I kissed on New Year's). If I ask him about the subtext, which is a reflection of myself, and I'm wrong, then I've betrayed myself and put myself into a potentially awkward position.
Il faut prêter attention, il faut soigner ses mots.
posted by Vanessa @ #
11:05 PM
I'm breaking my concentration because I needed to let someone know how awesome my TA is:
I emailed her about a quote: "...I guess I could try and paraphrase but... the profanity seems to capture that though."
To which she replied: "Don't be afraid of profanity...at least when you are quoting someone or in situations of road rage."
posted by Vanessa @ #
9:36 PM
This is weird: More than a week after we changed the clocks forward an hour, I'm feeling the effects of daylight saving time. It's almost 8:00pm, but I feel like it's 7:00pm.
Or maybe it's the effect of having slept ten hours last night, when from last Wednesday through Sunday I'd only slept seventeen hours...
Either way, this is good for a night of reading and term paper writing.
posted by Vanessa @ #
7:54 PM
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
I've noticed another pattern: the guys I'm attracted to tend to be musicians, and the last three have been bass players.
posted by Vanessa @ #
5:25 PM
Sunday, March 11, 2007
All the rain this weekend caused my flats to become waterlogged, giving me some pretty painful blisters.
posted by Vanessa @ #
11:03 PM
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
There is not enough hours in the day to begin with, and February is a short month! I could really use the extra two or three days..
posted by Vanessa @ #
9:33 PM
Friday, February 23, 2007
I've noticed an alliterative pattern in the places I want to visit: Seattle, San Francisco, and the Seine.
posted by Vanessa @ #
9:58 AM
Monday, February 19, 2007
I think indie bands like us and Modest Mouse are becoming popular for the same reason I bought my 1904 house, and for the same reason that downtown neighborhoods are gentrifying. Growing up in the age of Wal-Mart and 7-Eleven -- which was the landscape of my youth -- I'm craving authenticity. I think everyone is. You know, there is something real out there you can buy, but you just have to scratch the surface to find it. I think people are sick of fakeness.
This reading break has gotten off to a considereably rougher start than last year because, in anticipation of a job, I needed to take a course requiring me to wake up at 5:30am.
I arrived early, so I went in search of a coffee shop, and was astonished to find that my beloved Corporated Whore Coffee Co. was the only one within at least a 10-block radius in all directions. In I went to rid myself of the last of the currency on my gift card, which turned out to just be 19¢, so I begrudgingly supplied the remaining $1.56. I didn't need the coffee. Caffein has never had much of an effect on me unless it's incredibly strong black tea, or the coffee Anna brews. Having only incorporated a cup of coffee as part of my morning routine since last September, I've resolved that my dependency upon it is merely psychological.
My course let out at 4:15pm so I had a few hours to wait before Taryn got off work, which I used to do the reading for day two of the course. My original plan was to head out to SoMa, but instead I opted support business along the Canada Line, and caught the #15, which unfortunately no longer runs as a trolley. As I rode past QE Park, I sadly discovered that everywhere in every way, I see you with me. Haunted by ghosts, I have a project of disassociation.
Finding an locally owned and independent coffe shop, balance was reset. It's a cute little place with turquoise walls, and mixed and matched furniture, including a fantastic green brocade circa 1950s couch.
Later that night, after crème de menthe milkshakes, burgers, and walking across town because we missed the #44, Taryn and I caught Grizzly Bear. Unfortunately, they played the Plaza Club. The crowd cheered when Ed said that it took them two-and-a-half hours to cross the border (passports aren't even required for land crossings yet!), after which he assured us it was well worth it. Beautiful vocal harmonies. They covered He Hit Me by the Crystals, which pleasingly seemed to blur the boundaries gender and sexuality.
posted by Vanessa @ #
11:39 PM
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
This morning at 4:00am my friend will board a plane bound for exotic India to shoot a documentary on women's rights. He'll be spending most of his three months in the northern part of the country, staying in a village that has only ever seen one other Caucasian person -- someone who was passing through last year.
I was so excited to learn that he was making strides in his cinematography career, and so pained that certain circumstances did not allow me to attend his going away cocktail party Saturday night.
The first obstacle was of such a nature that it could easily be overcome.
The second obstacle was my own fault, and I am now beginning to think of my own creation. That of my agonising Yoko Ono Complex. Although, re-reading the quote pulled from my journal I am somewhat perplexed. The whole reason I was in physical pain over this was because I cared for both the guitar player and my ex who re-entered the scene. Things did not end well between the guitar player and I, and I feel I have unjustly been faulted (it takes two, right?) and marked with a scarlet letter. His circle of friends loyally rallied around him, and at first we found ourselves at many of the same events, and able to make polite talk. We've since gone our seperate ways.
My cinematographer friend was the only one of that circle, which has since disintegrated into infighting, not to feel differently towards me and we have stayed friends. Knowing I was likely to facee scrutiny if I attended, I invited my graduate student friend, someone I could have a good conversation with, to accompany me. Unfortunately, circumstances arose, and he was unable to attend. I feel terrible, because I was just unable to throw myself into a den of wolves.
It is this which has me wondering if perhaps I am the only one left crucifying myself for an old mistake. Although, given who the Roman are, I'm not sure.
I saw my cinematographer friend at Emily Haines' show three weeks ago, and with Taryn, went to say "Hello." He was there with his friend, the bass player of the same band. It was likely that it wasn't me, as my cinematographer friend assured me while the bass player was getting another dirty martini, because in the short time we spent with them before Emily took the stage, Taryn, who'd only just met him, also found him to be a huge prick.
I've discussed this sentiment of self-crucifiction with a close confidante. She's of the opinion that it's never too late to obtain closure with the other person. I disagree. Too much time has elapsed for me to seek closure with this other person. Instead, I must find my own closure. Thus, I am resolving that the next time confronted with such a situation to psych myself and wowing them with my self-confidence. I have nothing to feel guilty about. Because though they dress like Romans, I might be mistaken about them.
I was less than explicit with my cinematographer friend, so I'm not sure what he understands. In light of my absence, we've agreed to meet after he's returned to share photographs and stories over Franco-Indian fusion food.
posted by Vanessa @ #
12:04 AM
Thursday, February 08, 2007
I'm having trouble falling asleep. When I have sleep troubles, it's not usually related to the inability to fall asleep, I usually am able to fall asleep quite easily. Instead my sleep troubles stem from some morbid desire to destroy myself: I go to sleep late, which is usual for me, and force myself to wake up early. There was a two month stretch last term where I would wake up at 5:30am, averaging four hours of sleep a night. Such behaviour has resulted in extreme difficulty waking up before 7:00am, after hitting the snooze button a minimum of three times at 10-minute intervals. It's not late yet though, which is probably why I can't fall asleep. But I want to give myself a fighting chance at being able to make my 9:00am review session for my midterm Monday evening. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a long day.
J'ai trouvé la journée longue is the French idiomatic expression I would use to describe today. A direct translation would be I found the day long, equivalent to Today was a long day. However, in French, the expression doesn't bear the same connotation of having had a trying day. It bears the connotation that you had a lonely day, thus making it seem longer.
Today was the first spring-like day. It was nice and mild, and I took this as an opportunity to wear my new dress out. It's a 1940's inspired dress in beige with small black polka dots. I (intend to) wear it more casually, and with these shoes:
I took care getting ready. As the shoes are peep-toes, I gave myself a pedicure -- something I neglect to keep up in the winter, but never fail to do for important occasions.
The first thing I did was go meet the director of the museum I started volunteering at in November -- I hadn't yet met her because she was on leave in the autumn to take time to write her Master's thesis. Then I spent an hour doing readings at a locally owned coffee shop that sells fair-trade organic coffee, after which I went to a farm market to buy carrots, as I'd taken the up the fancy of making Carrot Ginger soup for dinner. On my way back home I passed through the park and crossed paths with a man who was so excited about the spring sunshine that he happily exlaimed to me, "It's Spring!" Once home, I didn't feel like staying inside to continue my school work, so I went back out and bought a bouquet of colourful flowers at a corner store, as any have yet to bloom in the yard.
posted by Vanessa @ #
11:05 PM
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Commemorating a blogiversary feels a little out of character to me.
I started this blog two years ago. I remember feeling as though I was choking, compromised and unable to express myself in person or otherwise. Though I maintain a paper journal, I like to maintain a blog because it's environmentally friendlier vis-a-vis paper consumption of a traditional journal. The internet is also a rather good medium for recording my inutile observations and anecdotes. There is undoubtedly also a Freudian aspect to blogging that traditional journal-keeping lacks. I have come to notice that lately, despite surficial stresses, I have been filled with a satisfied, mellow, happiness. Thus for reasons unrelated to this anniversary, though I have reflected on comparative vantage points before, I have again been incited to evaluate my position in my trajectory to finding what I was seeking when I started this blog: equilibrium in my life, stasis, balance, but not stagnation.
I realise I am investing more into blogging than it actually helped me, and though my observations are similar, I feel that I have grown considerably since I last stopped to take note. I know myself better, and feel more comfortable in my skin. Although I'm still working on being upfront, I know that when I feel I'm not getting anything in return, it exasperates me and I need to break from it. Ironically, in another such situation things have worked fabulously after a break (and the retrospective realisation that (mis)perceptions and lack of communication were at fault). I am so grateful that she was insistent, as she has (un)knowingly helped me and is one of my most cherished friends.
Albeit tinged with sadness at the conclusion that for my sake I must take a rest from what I feel has become a one-sided friendship, I am so happy that it is not marred with melodrama.
posted by Vanessa @ #
11:03 PM
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Dear friend,
Please pardon my use of the cliche, "friendship is a two-way street," but it's true, and I'm tired of exhausting myself traveling a one-way street.
Yesterday night I biked to Corporate Whore Coffee Co. to meet my friend to tell her about the weekend's adventures and misadventures. I've been boycotting them for some time as I feel they could affoard to buy more fair-trade coffee. I realise that with most boycotts of large corporations the only effect it has it to make one feel better about themselves as the market is so large that it's effect on the demand curve is infinitesimal. As such, I'm ashamed to admit that in light of having received a gift certificate for Christmas, I've been a little less ardent about the boycott. The gift certificate is not redeemable for cash, so I may as well enjoy the evils of capitalism, right? This is why I'd like to think that it was karma punishing me when I cut my thumb while locking my bike up.
posted by Vanessa @ #
9:47 PM
Sunday, January 21, 2007
I was about to say that pic confirms that you're a george girl I had a feeling I oftened pondered whether it was george or john yeah, i'm in between, but more george than john.
The Beatles's Love is a fantastic album. I especially like the version of Strawberry Fields Forever.
posted by Vanessa @ #
1:24 AM
