You May Be Seated

The sweeping headline that a Supreme Court Justice was to retire gave me a rare moment of fleeting elation. “Finally,” I thought, “Biden can get a W on the board.” This was met with the unfortunate realization that the ideological imbalance of the Court would remain unchanged, as Justice Stephen G. Breyer, it turns out, was already One of the Good Ones.

If the Supreme Court was a living room and its Justices the furniture, it seems we are essentially replacing an old Eames chair with a newer, younger Eames chair that should last us another good thirty-plus years. Amongst the many unflattering BarcaLoungers, the new addition is sure to shine bright.

I can only wish that when she arrives, she gets as comfortable as Justice Breyer got in his retirement speech at the White House, when he leaned on the podium, ad-libbed, and forgot to thank his wife who was sitting right freaking there. He is lucky if she doesn’t ask for his resignation from that lifetime appointment.

And Just like That…

I know a lot of people think it’s cheesy but who watched Sex and the City to be intellectually challenged? It’s full New York cosplay complete with Monopoly money and imaginary real estate, which is to say it’s fantastic television. The only thing missing is Samantha, and even her absence plays an amazing role.

I couldn’t help but wonder…are people upset because it’s so successful, or am I successful because I am so upset?

Trial Size

I turned thirty this month and recently marked the occasion with a visit to the Target Beauty section, which is a surprisingly elegant and well-lit imitation of a collection of actual cosmetics counters. I settled on a display that offered trial sizes of various venerable drug store brands – Neutrogena, L'Oréal, Olay – and perused the options as if I were a woman about to embark on a journey involving air travel who Just Can’t Stand the Hotel Shampoo. I began to fill my loose hands with a few products sure to transform my skin (and my life): 6 Bioré Deep Cleansing Charcoal Nose Strips for Men, to extract toxins from my very masculine pores; a miniature bottle of Thayers Rose Petal Witch Hazel Facial Toner, to add a requisite dose of femininity to them; and just 0.5 fl oz of Revitalift 1.5% Pure Hyaluronic Acid Serum, to visibly plump my skin and reduce wrinkles. Because I’m not actually getting older, I’m just trying it out.

Reasons Why It’s Ok to Break Your New Year’s Resolution

1. You’re just really stressed right now

2. It’s too cold outside

3. That person is doing that thing again

4. You need the sleep

5. You forgot

6. You’ve just accepted this about yourself

7. You can always start again tomorrow

What Day Is It Again?

May 2022 be better than 2021. Shouldn’t be terribly difficult.

Before You Send That Email…

Ask yourself, is this a December problem? Or a January problem?

Group Brainstorm

What would you say if you had to say 6,000 words on Latinx theatre; 15 pages on 19th century American dramatic literature; or an indescript amount on historiography, theory, and methods in visual culture?

I don’t know either but will, apparently, by 11:59pm on Tuesday.

But First…

I have a big writing deadline, so I’ve made my bed, done the dishes, taken out the trash, brushed my teeth, called my boyfriend, cleared my email, got in pajamas, and wrote this post. Now I can finally get to it. Unless there’s anything else I’ve forgotten…

Brain Drain

I was telling my friend on the phone that it’s the time of the semester when I could not have any less room in my brain to write at length, and yet it’s also the only time it happens. School deadlines, like all deadlines, are arbitrary. But, like in all things, it’s the constraint that makes the production possible.

Milestones

When you’re steadily approaching the edge of your 30th birthday, it helps to have a few close friends jump in first and tell you it’s cold but you’ll get used to it.

Missing New York

I miss the pavement and the lights and the pace, but I don’t miss the noise and the stress and the struggle. It’s not that all those things aren’t everywhere, but the cocktail of the city just hits you harder than the beer of the Midwest. It’s healthier to be away. But sometimes I miss the stiff drink.

Clocks Back, Looking Forward

I know, it’s an exciting time. Booster shots are out, Starbucks cups are red, Mariah Carey is emerging from her slumber, my friend is returning to usher at Radio City, and Thanksgiving is less than three week away. And, most of all…Adele’s album drops on November 19. Maybe everything is going to be ok after all.

Cheap Coffee

The only convenient coffee shop near the middle of campus is this tiny two-person operation, which always results in a line that wraps around the hall of the Union. It’s quite the conundrum for someone like myself who appreciates hot coffee but can’t fathom waiting more than ten minutes for it in a public setting. I have resorted to buying cold bottled coffee from the neighboring convenience store a couple of times, but it’s just not the same.

But yesterday I found a hot coffee machine in the corner of the convenience store. I had been sitting there this whole time. It had the cheap Dixie coffee cups and the big coffee things with the spigot, and even the cardboard sleeves. The coffee wasn’t good, but it was cheap. And cheap coffee is always great.

Good Morning, All

When I invited myself to write something to you all today, my first thought was, “Wow, of course! What an honor!”

Then I thought, “Hmm, what could I ever impart on these people? How could I even make just a small impact? Perhaps even on just one person? What really do I have to offer?”

I certainly do not know everything, and I aim to make no such impression. Rather, I hope to offer you only my own personal perspective, snapshots from my own journey, in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, they might speak to you, too.

Now, when I sat down at my desk to write this, I thought, “Where to begin?” There were so many things I wanted to say to you, and yet crafting them into the perfect prose proved simply impossible.

It wouldn’t be fair for me to give you the idea that life can be all packaged up and tied with a bow, or that I somehow hold all the answers.

So, instead, I will spend what feels like innumerable attempts at saying something while saying nothing, humbly indulging in my own egotistical preoccupations, aiming to get closer to you while I fade slowly and slowly away.

Genuine Question

Is there really any art to be made or words to be written in the moments after Adele releases new music?

In the Long Run

I’m doing another marathon run on Monday, my fourth in as many years. Each year it’s daunting and nerve-wracking, an odd cocktail of stage freight and anticipatory pain with a base of uncertainty.

Only distance runners can tell you the particular dread of having a race coming up, that sense of knowing that you soon you’ll be uncomfortably confronted with yourself. While you’re out there, there’s plenty of time to ponder what led you to such a course, and plenty of brainstorming about why you might decide to never do it again.

But distance runners will also tell you that few sensations compare to the profound relief of finishing, of resting your hands on your knees, and relishing in the sweet sensation of knowing there is no further left to go. Every time, I remember how good it feels to walk.

The Spectrum

Love on the Spectrum is my favorite reality dating show because it gets the closest to reality. While the show is dedicated to those twenty-somethings who are on the autism spectrum, their desires and anxieties are as commonplace as my own. And not a few people could benefit from the guidance of the show’s designated dating expert: Find out what you have in common. Ask open ended questions. Know that no relationship will solve all of your problems.

Most poignant to me was a moment between Michael and Heather, when they came upon a pregnant silence near the end of their date. “How do you feel about me?” Michael asked. “I like you,” Heather replied immediately.

“But, may I ask, in what way?”

“No, no, no!” I mumbled into my blanket. Oh, Michael. One must never ask explicitly how someone else feels about them! And certainly not for additional clarification!

“In a romantic way,” Heather clarified, as they walked hand in hand. And so continues my education.

Fall Updates

The tops of some of the trees in Wisconsin are starting to change and this morning it was so cold. I feel such a deep sense of relief when the schedule fills up and the temperature drops. Sweaters, routine, alarms, and warm showers. All things I missed during the dog days of summer.

I also have a boyfriend now who doesn’t like Halloween, so my long-term seasonal worry is relieved. No costume considerations. Only what takeout to get.

Back to school, back to work, back to people, back to conversation. I feel like I am coming out of a three month retirement to a game of tee-ball. But my little diamond feels like Fenway.

Water Park

Summer days felt like being adrift in an ocean; now school days feel like a water park. So many kids, so many structures, so many activities, so many germs.

Walking past rows of stately trees and sitting in bolted wooden desks several decades old, I feel like I’m in a movie about college, rather than taking my surroundings at their word.

I did have a moment in a small seminar room, looking around at my masked colleagues, taking a mental picture of the peculiar scene to which we have all become accustomed. The time when full-faced, indoor interactions with those outside my emotional comfort pod seems evermore elusive. The time when one can fly, eat, exercise, and gather without second thought is becoming more of a fairytale by the news story.

But it is nice to have confirmation that other people are real, classrooms are living things, and that the seasons continue on as they do. (It’s so nice to not need air conditioning. Have I written about air conditioning before?)

Look How Beautiful

Welcome to my new website. How beautiful, right?

When you see a website (or anything), the more simple it looks, the more time it took. Add on top of that my proclivity for procrastination you can only imagine how long this was simmering on the stove.

It makes sense. How can one possibly translate oneself into website form? What would you be if you were divided up into three categories? What is your “About” page even about?

I settled on the reality that nothing made by me will ever be the same as me, but I can produce something, a third thing, that can be its own thing in itself. This place is simple, logical, black and white. I suspect no amount of time will ever make me into that.