Have you met Steven, my euphemism?

August 30, 2008

The Sig Fig and I have had some conversations about how, at a certain point in one’s life, the world “girlfriend” seems sort of inappropriate. I mean, doesn’t it? It’s sort of a young word, something that brings teenage relationships to mind. (Also I’ve always found it awkward that women over a certain age tend to use “girlfriend” to mean “female friend.” It leads to me wondering if women are gay when they clearly are not.)

And before the whole homos-can-marry-in-select-states thing came up, it was always a question of what you could possibly call your significant other. Partner? Very law firmish. Spouse? Still awkward, even if now it’s a legal reality.

The possibilities I hadn’t considered until recently, however, are “friend” and “roommate.”

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I’m eating Jell-o for breakfast.

July 27, 2007

It’s the American dream! Well, not really, because this is CVS brand gelatin snack, not Jell-o brand gelatin snack. I’m eating the American dream that’s four for a dollar.

Anyway, I’m back. For the two of you who expressed a mild dislike for my absence: thank you. Your mild dislike has truly, truly moved me.

For the record, I’m back to blogging here, but I’m going to continue to take a break from reading (most) other blogs. I know myself well enough to know that I wouldn’t be able to just read posts and ignore the comments, and since lately comment threads only raise my blood pressure, I figured I’d stick to bacon and save myself the grief. You may notice a new addition to my blogroll, however, and I can’t stress its importance enough. Read Dooce!

Moving on. Some exciting things have been happening over here in my little corner of the globe. For instance, there’s Steve. Steve is my new electric guitar. Should I happen to figure out the contraption you kids call a “digital camera,” there’s a chance you may see a picture of him and the ladies, Sheba and Artemesia (classical and electric acoustic, respectively), but for now just know that I am a person with more guitars than pairs of clean underwear. I do plan to do laundry this weekend, though. I swear.

I’ve also been granted permission to audit a class at my alma mater (how weird! I have one of those!) in the fall, which excites me greatly because it will be a class I actually want to be taking. It may even stimulate my brain and make those library classes more bearable. We can always hope. Anyway, it’s a course on gender and performance, taught by the wonderful woman responsible for me taking a seminar with Judith Halberstam (swoon) last year. I’m greatly looking forward to it, and I can only assume the reading list (Bornstein, Butler, Halberstam [swoon], etc.) will provide fodder for new writing here.

And, finally, we’re now at T-minus 21 days until I depart for another whirlwind tour, this time of Idaho and San Francisco. Hopefully this time I’ll get my act together and take a bazillion pictures, which used to be my typical behavior any time I took a trip. (Remember the two rolls of film from the very first day I was in Mexico? Yes, I know you don’t, but trust me, they’re boring.) I was sadly remiss in Oregon last winter, but never again!

Anyway, I’d like this blog to be a relaxing place for me. And for you, the two readers. In that spirit, my first post-hiatus “serious post” subject is, naturally, McDonald’s.

Wherein I leave the state.

December 15, 2006

Sorry for the general paucity of postings lately. It’s the result of a number of factors–not going to work while I was sick with bronchitis, thus not listening to NPR at work; having bronchitis; finishing my first semester of grad school (woohoo!) and so on. I hope to remedy the situation soon, but first I’ll be taking an official hiatus. I leave for parts west on Monday to spend time with family and other loved ones. Thus, no posts. Even if I took my laptop with me I’d have very few opportunites for wireless. So if something really blogworthy happens while I’m with my parents I may write something from my dad’s computer, but don’t hold your breath.

Until then, enjoy the random thoughts of one who has nothing to do until she leaves for Christmas.