The New Order... haha Friday comic relief.

Credit for this goes to Bruce Perdew, and I came across it through a friend on Facebook. I think it is from Kentucky... Attorneys can have a sense of humor and be really 80s hip too!

Lygeia escapes the tomb!

Although I usually don't have much fun going out with my married or divorced with kiddos friends--I love them & they're fun, but they usually make me feel subconsciously guilty for not having their issues, responsibilities, kids, stretchmarks, etc.-- and this time I was the bottle brunette out with 2 bottle blondes! LOL. I had a good time. I must say life is as good being chestnut as it is being blonde, (dark colors sure do fade faster) and no one tells me I look like Tara Reid, which hello, for the record, I do NOT, and it was starting to drive me as wacky as when I was younger and people constantly thought I was Jodie Foster. I've been having so much fun coloring my hair & playing with clip-on bangs, etc. I guess 40 can be the new 20 as I certainly feel like a punk kid! My friend B snapped this as we were leaving my office... my sanctum...

If you haven't read it, "Lygeia" is one of my all-time fave Poe stories. I recommend it, and it is a fairly brief read.

Now that I'm not whining about my life in the nunnery...

Certain things trigger a variety of  pop-culturally driven cryptic comments that I blurt out on occasion. It isn't that I want to be cryptic; rather, it's that I assume most people who know me know what I know. Well, K, you're so very wrong, presumptuous, naive and oblivious. Anyway, these are my fave examples of little pop-culture moments that little incidents in my day caused me to think about, ponder briefly and/or laugh aloud. 

Dinner "Better Off Dead"

Tenacious D is touring this summer!
4 April 2012 Update: This is a tangential rant with lots of Freudian stuff you could dig out of it. For the record... hell yeah, I'll pay anything to be that close to Taylor Hawkins again, probably the only blonde guy since Robin Zander to rock my silly-little-girl-inside-heart... but what are the odds that such a fine dental example of a Fighter of Foo (not that Grohl's chompers aren't pretty nice but...) would tour with the D these days... there are many awesome studio musicians out there. I mean think about the amazing band that Dweezil Zappa (yes, OK, he's super cute too) has amassed to revive his father's music live. In this video, the singer is Napoleon Murphy Brock who actually played & recorded often with Mr. Frank. The bass player is a good guy who went to college with my former bro-in-law, and the saxophonist is remarkable--beyond words--they're phenomenal:
Zappa Plays Zappa Live "Inca Roads"
Oh mighty yes that is a painful segue, but here's part II

My favorite Metal Goddess- Robot in Lang's "Metropolis"

When Barnabus Arrives...

"You fill me with inertia" Drimblewedge & the Vegetations from "Bedazzled" (1967)
4 April 2012 Update: If you like stuffy high brow Oxford educated humor, lol (most of the Pythons went to Cambridge I think, except Graham who I believe was an MD from Oxford, but I love them as well) Derek & Clive, Peter Cook & Dudley Moore, "Beyond the Fringe," "Not Only... But Also," their live and sketch comedy 'programmes,' & "Bedazzled" and "The Wrong Box" are films you should examine. If my tired brain's memory functions serve me correctly, there's even an appearance by the Goon Spike Milligan in the latter. "Love them Goon Shows" to quote John Lennon.

Yes Virginia, Oftentimes Women Think Too Much...Even Lady Jedi.

I'm not allowing my thoughts to become a great whirlygig. I've been copping out; haven't been true to myself. I need to stop thinking, period, and just keep writing. I don't need to think to write it. I need to think to revise the drafts when they are accepted.

After a nice chat discussion with an unknown gamer, ha, and reading over my blog entries thus afar, I am not focusing on the big picture. I am learning from the poor experiences I have had; just because I hate my "diss" topic doesn't mean it "sucks,"  and just because I only tend to feel a need to become social when I need to be doing other things alone--an introvert who becomes an extrovert when she isn't getting to do what she WANTS when she's alone. Man, what a selfish flake! I pity my soul in it's next incarnation if I have children. They will hate that person for not growing up... and my whole life people have been telling me I'm an old soul-- the irony. But then again, maybe that's the old soul's lesson-- don't grow up?

I've once again thought myself  'round to the conclusion that women over-think more commonly than men. If you've read my blog entries, did you notice? I'm not whining about saving the whales I'm essentially complaining; that can't be good. Somewhere down there I said I wasn't one to complain, but you know, maybe it is just the isolation. At least I'm writing instead of talking to myself, or am I? heheheheh. Add a touch of OCD and situational anxiety (even kind of existentially speaking in regard to the Situationists) into the mix and you've got one heaving, quivering, dysfunctional mass of pointless and narcissistic subjectivity. I'm going to end this thought there... leave it... embrace it...

SWTOR

So today I goofed off and played a little SWTOR. I've played video games as long as time... if time began with "Pong" & Atari. I worked at a video arcade for three years out of high school. I played all the systems when I was younger, but never could get the nervous system/ response down with the newer PS games. I always envied my friends that were good at it, but truth is I probably never had the time to play.
I don't have time now, bu the MMORPG games, once you do it enough are really not so difficult to control if you can use a computer. So, I was exposed to SWTOR: Star Wars the Old Republic when it came out in late December and the nerd in me revived. I have a few characters and play on a PVE server as well as the PVPRPG. I finally got my first character sorted out and she's almost really bad ass, LOL. Today I reached level 41. I kind of wish I could just talk about my own life and accomplishments in terms leveling... sounds more intellectual, ha, or I guess, more rational in some way. Chronological, linear time isn't as fun... back to the grind stone for a few hours.

"Maybe tomorrow... maybe someday"

Well my sleep deprived state and finally honestly speaking with another human being, my friend from college now a therapist, culminated in a rather long-winded meltdown about the rest of my life. I came to the conclusion that I hate my dissertation. I thought I could do it. I couldn't find a committee to mentor me with my original topic after the professor who backed me the most took a position at another university. I'm interested in my topic, but after all the life under the bridge I'm pretty tired of it. I fantasize about writing my original dissertation topic instead-- I even write a bit of it thinking maybe I'll publish it? Maybe Griel Marcus would like it? HA!

Aside from that, and the real crux of the biscuit is that I'm not happy being unfinished girl/woman. I am afraid of what comes next. I don't feel like I fit into the academia mode very well and although I loved teaching, the career is pretty unwieldy for someone like me. I think I'd really prefer to leave work at work... but enough.

"Life... is a wake, livit or krikit, and on the bunk of our breadwinning lies the cropse of our seedfather" (Joyce FW 55.05).

"I want to go ahead of Father Time with a scythe of my own." H. G. Wells

So I've been writing now for over 24 hours with no sleep. I'm going to have to take a nap. But first I thought it would be kind of fun to share some of the images of available guys between the ages (supposedly) of 35 to 45 from a free online dating site that I came across when people watching there. What I like about these particular photos is not only the men themselves, but the heinous and peculiar amount of clutter in the background of their images. Do people really not notice that? (Because I received a comment via email regarding the psychological issues behind hoarding, I thought I should clarify-- everyone has at least a junk drawer, I'm not dissing these guys for their clutter but more so for the fact that they didn't find a better less clutter filled location for their photo-taking. Sure, at least the aren't bathroom portraits... um. Um... and because it's Flash Gordon with six-pack abs drawn on with a Sharpie, and the other guy looks way older than 45... um and I think that's a semi-automatic weapon in the corner... um...).

Sometimes, sure, I fantasize that I'll come across some non-hypercritical/hypocritical, attractive, intelligent, fit man within ten years of my age (I'm in my early 40s going on 22 and easily look at least 10 years younger. By the way, that's great and all, I'm proud of it and lucky for my genetics, but since I turned 26 I've looked pretty much exactly the same--being told you look like a kid for 20 years, having to remind your doctor how old you are, etc.) that will think I'm sweet and funny and smart and want to spend time with me,and I am looking around with that intent. But in my defense, not that there's anything wrong with online dating, I've hidden my profile. People can't seem to communicate via language and writing any more. I've met guys I had a lot in common with but they rubbed me the wrong way with their personality issues and/or baggage. Out of about 25 dates during the 3+ years that I've been single again, I've only met one man  that I was really intrigued by and  thought that I felt a bond with, aside from music, games, & movies, he even liked the Dick Van Dyke show. Ha, and the endearing things for me were that he never ate meat off of bones, was very neat and organized and anal and minimalistic, a nasty teeth phobic, a loner, he knew my favorite Merrie Melodies cartoon, was interested in the occult, an anglophile, we had same favorite movie, and he seemed to have a sense of inquiry-- and lots of other goofy, fun things that I'd never met anyone with the same quirks as mine-- and seemed like he really liked me too and like we were slowly getting to know each other. But he didn't recognize our similarities in the same way I did-- just wasn't into me. So, coincidence and synchronicity are not always factual. Perception is different for everyone; that's the acceptable part when you like someone. The bummer things in those situations, which never happened to me, until now, is when someone is your friend and you really like them, but you date them then they may never be your friend. The losses of friendships are the greatest losses.

Sans the unsoul-mate: [aw, had a pretty funny rant going here and lost it, maybe another time.] The heavily tattooed, hard-body narcissist guy after that proposed to me on the first date after we met. The next guy seemed really cool but forgot to take his ring off. The next guy couldn't leave me alone long enough to, well, to just NOT piss me off-- called me all the time and txtd, and I kept telling him I had no time for a relationship and to lay off a bit screamed, "F**K YOU. YOU WASTE OF TIME!" IN a public place no less. Nice. I'm feeling all about dating, heheh. The latest and LAST in my senior-adolescent dating attempts. had emailed me when my hair was natural, blonde. I've since dyed it blackish and he just ranted at me about how wrong it is for me to express myself, LOL, until I walked out of the coffee shop. I'm broken, too, but I still believe love is just as much friendship, work and effort as it is chemically motivated and sparkly. Sad thing I guess is when it sparkles for you but not the other person in an endless chain of events that may leave people alone. Oftentimes I think I'd rather be alone than be with a guy like Flash or Jolly Roger. Sometimes I think that I would rather not be alone. All that glitters is not gold.

"International Bulletproof Talent:" Blossoming Angst

I'm kind of glad no one reads my blog thus far. There's so much I'd vent about aside from this BS if I felt truly anonymous... guess I could change my blog title.

Spring has sprung. Aside from talking and reading aloud to myself and leaving a couple of voice mails, I haven't spoken to anyone--who else is this lucky? I mean I haven't heard another human voice in 144 hours and counting. I'm used to it and it happens a lot, but coinciding with my silence is a tremendous resurgence of my adolescent angst. I suppose the state of the world today contributes to my angst; that, and my endless days staring at the words trying to come out of my fingers on to the page. More importantly, I've been plaguing my already tainted and dismal thoughts with a wonderful new Spotify playlist with all my favorite darkish stuff: Bauhouse, the Cure, Depeche Mode, New Order, Marilyn Manson, NIN, Siouxsie & the Banshees, Sisters of Mercy, Muse, Joy Division, etc. The one song that won't leave my head, well the Bauhaus in general (and so typical of that band, really), is the title listed in this post title: "International Bulletproof Talent." I keep listening to it, over and over. I suppose I'm trying to encourage myself that I'm bullet proof, although I'm still feeling a little shot down. But this is one of those songs that could maybe... maybe... have any words for lyrics, but there's something really intriguing about them, haha.

21st century boy
No fall out boy
No hallucination
Generation

Just International Bulletproof Talent

Groove riders
Join the underground
Groove riders
With the underground

Just International Bulletproof Talent

Free the bass man
With industrial strength twelve thumpers
The culture of prolific head
Communication with spirit man
Communication with the spirit man

Just International Bulletproof Talent

Age of Ignorance

In 1961, Richard Hofstadter published Anti-Intellectualism in American Life.

I think that the US as a society has dwindled into this little bubble of anti-knowledge haters, to put it in urban dictionary terms. This recent societal editorial below is a nice read.

http://www.nybooks.com/blogs/nyrblog/2012/mar/20/age-of-ignorance/

First blog, eh? Hoommmmmm...

So today I'm trying hard to stay motivated. I'm not one to really complain, but I am hating the chapter I'm working on so very much. I think the biggest difficulty is trying to make all of the completely random and tangential previously existing criticism on these first obscure works, which I have to consult and mention, that is making it so tough. I can't get the argument to flow.

When I signed up for this blog it was 2009. I wrote nothing... later, I was newly divorced and my life was in a bit of a random and unexpected turmoil; hence why I'm a Vampire/Peter Pan-woman working on her Ph.D. dissertation. I gave up my condo in Colorado to travel back and forth between from Fort Worth, where my mother lives, and Colorado with much frequency. In fact lately, I only get out on road trips. My brother died in 2006 and he always looked after her. I kind of felt like I needed some looking after myself so I decided to save my savings and focus on writing. I do pick up the random odd job now and then and sometimes it makes me think I'd rather be one of the mindless followers-- have a job that is a job. Leave it when I walk out the door and take off my uniform. Although while teaching at a major university I felt like I could do that a bit-- one is still always grading and always required to respond to students via email-- I thought it would benefit me to have a retreat from the responsibility of having one dedicated living space for storage and a computer-- I can't say that it has.

At an age when I thought I would still be secure in my relationship, on some occasions, I find myself biologically encouraged to venture into the dating world. The only thing I haven't tried is speed dating. I am in my early forties. I may not be the biggest most beautiful prize to single men everywhere, but can someone my age be honest and find someone who isn't revoltingly haggard for their age? I mean I believe I AM THE BEST PRIZE, I just want  my prize, too. I've been asked out on dates by men in grocery stores, bars, at street lights, etc. When I go out, I am frequently approached by twenty-somethings that think I'm 30 (and although that's very flattering and exciting and all, and maybe I just haven't met the right "cub" *leacherous hehheh* I can't get passed the fact I could have given birth to them. NOTE TO SELF this may be a good blog topic one day-- the double standard and biological fact that most women feel weirder about a parental age gap between lovers than men do. The majority of men seem to be fine with hitting anything that's legal, and they're biologically wired that way, no?), married men and sugar daddies (jokes are on them, they always think I'm younger than they are, but usually I'm older than they are.) I met one well-preserved 49 year-old man, successful and very attractive. But no one I meet or date wants to take the time to get to know ME. I've been discarded and proposed to before that really happens, and I'm thinking a relationship is not in my future... ever.

One problem is that I'm really shy. I also have some anxiety issues. Until I've known someone for about 3 months I can't be who I am. But you know, the biggest thing is I am not who I am. I am stuck in this time crunch of dissertation hell and I won't be who I am until I'm finished.

Another thing that distracts me from writing is when I think about what I'd rather do than teach after I've completed these last two hoops in the dissertation process. But I'm going to try and use this blog to rant at and write through the things that bother me. If you read, feel free to share you own!