Intrepid Girl Reporter


Monday, 12/27: a return to all that
December 28, 2010, 1:01 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

It’s Christmas break and I just finished watching Up in the Air with my mother and sister, which I thought was quite good but was definitely one of the more depressing movies I’ve seen in a while. Vera Farmiga’s speech about what women look for by the time they hit 34 made me want to go defenestrate myself:

You know, honestly by the time you’re 34, all the physical requirements just go out the window. You secretly pray that he’ll be taller than you, not an asshole would be nice just someone who enjoys my company, comes from a good family. You don’t think about that when you’re younger. Someone who wants kids, likes kids. Healthy enough to play with his kids. Please let him earn more money than I do, you might not understand that now but believe me, you will one day otherwise that’s a recipe for disaster. And hopefully, some hair on his head. I mean, that’s not even a deal breaker these days. A nice smile. Yea, a nice smile just might do it.

And while if there’s one thing I’ve figured out doesn’t belong on this blog, it’s information about my love life, it reveals very little to say that I found that speech unnerving, the equivalent of picking up what you think is a bottle of water and inadvertently taking a swig of a warm flat Diet Coke. On a related note, it also made me feel old and unaccomplished, which is unsurprising when one considers the fact that I used to periodically chastise myself for not being accomplished enough to skip a grade.

Grad school, too, has made me feel old sometimes, which is funny, because I’ve more or less completely regressed to the lifestyle of a nineteen-year-old: a messy room, a breakfast composed of fruit snacks, jeans worn for days in a row. There are plenty of people older than me, of course, but there are also people who are younger, almost all of whom I once looked at as inexperienced and who now have real job experience IN BETWEEN THEIR TIME GRADUATING AFTER ME AND COMING TO GRADUATE SCHOOL. This is part of what happens when you find yourself in a competitive program, of course, so it’s not exactly a bad thing; I have, certainly, been encouraged to go harder, faster, stronger, etc. But it’s a rather stark reminder of the progress of time.

So graduate school: inducing existential crises, and one reason for my absence from these parts. My loyal-est/loyalist readers have surely noticed that blogging has almost entirely dropped off here, to say nothing of my five hundred side projects, and part of that is the time suck that is full-time attendance. Part of it is that I’m still entertaining the notion of my own website – in fact, I think school has underlined that it is necessary for me to have one, so I can start writing about school-related stuff – but that raises the question: what here? I can get personal but not too personal, as my anonymity isn’t much, and when I want to share stuff I post links on my Tumblr, and when I write about food…you know. It goes on. Unfortunately, the design of my own personal webspace has been delayed by the fact that of course whatever I do has to be Unique And Special And Really Good, so I was going to try to do it all myself, but peeps, I don’t know if I have time for that. I’m here in the interim, at least during this break, because I miss writing.

And of course all of these neuroses – and I haven’t covered the half of them, or anything about what the last few months have been like – are sort of irrelevant comparatively. I had a drink with two guys I went to middle school with in Florida, one of whom (by a total fluke) moved down the street from my parents in Tennessee, and they were telling me about the number of people I had known who were now dead or in prison. (La Sister: “The answer to ‘Do you know how many people are dead or in jail?’ is never ‘None!'”) I googled a guy I remembered from fifth grade, one I used to find kind of cute, on a whim, and he was recently arrested for – among other charges – domestic abuse and false imprisonment. Yes, really. This is the sort of thing that deserves further future reflection, but now I am going to bed. I will, however, be back.