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chatoyante
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Name: Vania
Gender: Female
Interests: writing, curacao, mafia movies, travel, vintage jewelry, swimming in the ocean, languages, tea, Milan Kundera, photography, earrings, British TV shows, sashimi, Ernest Hemingway, Moleskine
Expertise: talking shit
Message: message me
Member Since:
10/11/2004
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| I've had enough of globalization/neoliberalism/institutional reform. I'm going back into the cave to marvel at my shadows.
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| It is cold, dry and covered in ice outside. White lights are all strung up and twinkling against the twilight.
Winter is here. And I turn 19.
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Happy December. It's definitely one of the top 10 months of the year. No, seriously. I love it.
It's so weird how I immediately wake up around midnight. 12-4 am
are my best hours for functioning-- unfortunately taking advantage of
them means that I show up for class half an hour late, looking like
someone socked me in both eyes. My professor sneaks
annoyed/worried glances at me every time.
Okay well goodbye. I'm going to curl up in my AMAZING bed.
I want to make sweet, sweet love to it-- not too soft and not too hard,
generates all the heat that I need... Yeah, let's not think dirty
thoughts people. But let's also be honest here: with my heated
blanket, why would I ever need a man?
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| Reading: Rising to the Challenge-- China's Grand Strategy and International Security, Avery Goldstein
What a change-- today was actually a good day. I came home from
my professor's beautiful apartment (had class there today), made myself
salmon that I ate with some deliciously crusty bread, and watched
Arrested Development for about two hours. Mmmmmmmm. Yes, I
am an Arrested Development enthusiast, and it hurts me deeply that
they're canceling it. I'm not surprised, since anything with the
slightest tinge of quality is axed in our most advanced civilization,
but I am still sad.
It got me thinking about family though(which is actually perfect since
one of my final papers is on the changing family structure brought
about by the changing world economy/culture, which is in turn brought
about by globalization.) I've never been very interested in the
institution of family-- it's always just kind of been there, nothing
special. For some reason I've always, naively of course, trusted
every person that I've met. I always trusted that they mean what
they say, that they wouldn't lie to me for no reason, that they will
follow through, that they won't hurt me.
Hah. Well, it's taken me almost 19 years and a lot of woundedness
to learn that that's simply not true. (So I'm a little late to
the game.) My faith in other human beings is now, deservedly,
extremely low. Along with my expectations. The exception is
my family; I can always trust that they'll be there.
Okay, ew. I don't want to turn this into a sapfest akin to a holiday
episode of Seventh Heaven-- I think I would have to vomit-- But I do
have a newfound appreciation for the ubiquitous, nosy, impatient,
frustrating, nagging, slightly obsessive-compulsive, quirky,
fart-joke-loving people in my life (maman, papa et little bro.)
Because there is something stronger that holds us together, even if our
relationship is conflict-ridden and completely unglamorous.
We may drive each other insane and we may fight all the time, but it's all about the kinship bond.
And something else new (these last few weeks have been rife with...
something... like... change): I have finally learned how to not care
about what other people think of me. It's such a typical teenage
girl issue, and I have finally gotten over it. About damned time.
And this:
Mediocrity is probably one of my biggest fears. Being average is
something similar to death in my pinched, elitist, personal
world. But fear takes over your life. It twists you,
controls you, then becomes you. My solution? Stop caring [so
much]. Caring too much is dangerous, probably one of the most
dangerous things that you can do. For me, when I get too
passionate about something I immediately fuck it up. I care so
much about it that obsess and analyze it to death, overthink everything
to death, and completely destroy it. When I am lukewarm,
everything goes smoothly. No fuck ups.
It's a horrible irony. Lesson: don't get too
passionate. Don't obsess. Don't care. Resign yourself
to mediocrity. A flawed solution perhaps, but you have to survive
some how.
I'll end on a happier note-- what I am currently enjoying:
1. Warm men's sweaters
2. These pens
3. Arrested Development
4. Red grapes
5. Pure Turquoise
6. These notebooks
Funny how material things can make you feel so warm and fuzzy inside.
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| I hate incompetence. Due to incompetence, I am still in Hyde Park
and NOT in a warm house filled with good food. Our fridge is
empty. Well, except for some ketchup and coffee creamer.
And some expired swiss cheese, but that belongs in the trash and not on
the plastic shelf. Ew.
I waited outside for over an hour for the bus to go to Argonne.
Outside on the sidewalk in front of the Walgreens on 55th and Lake
Park, with the sun setting, for over an hour. Outside, with that
crazy woman screaming obscenities (think: "MOTHERFUCKER!
GODDAMNED DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER! FORGET ABOUT HIM YOU PIECE OF
SHIT!" etc. etc. etc. You know, the usual.) Then, to add insult
to injury, when I find out that the asinine fool that is the bus driver
decided to skip my stop, a strange man wearing a fuzzy red cap and a
soiled white coat rode past me on a bicycle and exclaimed, "Ohh!
A China doll!!"
If I wasn't so passive-aggressive, I would have flipped a shit.
Either that or burst into tears. But I am a reasonable
person. Instead, I calmly stomped back to my apartment and
bitched to Saranta.
Motherfucker.
Now if you'll excuse me, Daddy is arriving to pick me up.
Happy Thanksgiving everybody.
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