Thursday, February 22, 2007

So. I have a semi-creepy thing for older women. Not Brooke Astor old, but I can deal with forty. In this spirit, here's a list of some of the ladies I've fallen for at various times in my life:

1. Isabelle Huppert, after seeing "8 femmes" for the first time (and DEFINITELY after seeing "I [heart] Huckabees" and "La Pianiste.") I mean, look at her, for Goddess' sake! Sooo French! So imperious! Mmm.
2. Angelina Jolie. As a lesbian--hell, as a human being--I feel that I am required to have this fantasy. Note: Mr. and Mrs. Smith Jolie beats the hell out of Tomb Raider Jolie. Also, her name is a French expression of affection. Do I have a thing for the French? Pas de tout!
3. Michele Laroque. Also French. Found in two of the bestest LGBT films ever--Ma Vie en Rose and Le Placard. (Le Placard was the first movie my first girlfriend and I ever saw the Tivoli Theater in Westport...sigh).
4. Briefly, and unfortunately, Madonna (who hasn't had a Madonna phase?)
More to come, campers...I'm tired, and it's late.

Sunday, February 18, 2007

My soul's the present shadow of a presence gone. -Fernando Pessoa
I got to see my cervix Friday. It was part of an annual gynecological exam, which (for me at least) is as much fun as a root canal, and doesn't come with good painkillers afterwards. It made the experience almost worth it.
I told the nurse at the beginning of the appointment that I wanted to see my cervix, because it seemed like a cool thing to do and I've been reading Our Bodies Ourselves since ninth grade (my how the pictures of women giving birth freaked me out--like squeezing a cantaloupe through a garden hose) and it would just feel...empowering. During the seventies I'm sure every room had a hand mirror in it, but nowadays no one really wants to see inside themselves, so we had a bit of a predicament. Ultimately she got one of the receptionists to give up her compact, complete with powder puff. "You're going to have to hold it," the nurse said. "It's so small there's no way I'll be able to angle it right." And so off we went--breast exam (not much ground to cover there), palpating the abdomen...the external exam...and then the speculum, which was at least room temperature (I'm convinced that some gynecologists keep theirs in a deep freeze; having a woman do the exam helps with this, as they realize just what it's like to have a metal instrument approximately the temperature of Barrow, Alaska say a howdy-do to one's lady parts). Still quite painful. But once the thing was cranked open, I sat up, put the mirror between those splayed legs, and behold--a little pink donut, shiny and smooth. Mother Mary, it was cool. After that, the pap smear itself and the bimanual exam, both of which I would rather have done without ("Does it hurt when I move your cervix?" How does one answer that, exactly? I'm not used to having my internal organs pushed around). So, everybody--next time you go to see your gynecologist, ask to see your cervix. Bring a mirror with you. It'll be fun.

Saturday, February 10, 2007

I am too tired to do anything.

I slept 13 hours today and I'm still tired. I could hardly do my laundry.

I've been like this for weeks. I don't know what's going on. I think I need to have my thyroid meds adjusted again. I'm hoping hoping hoping I don't have mono (been there, done that...but 6% of people do have recurrences).

Thursday, February 08, 2007

So, cats and kittens, I've been reading Dante for my "Bodies of the Middle Ages" class, and in the course of perusing the internet for a translation (not because I don't have one, but because I want to be able to just search for a word rather than having to comb through the text--why don't all books come with concordances, dammit?) I stumbled upon this test...Apparently I'm lustful. Quelle suprise. And violent--though towards myself, not towards others. Hmmm. Take the test for yourself, or better yet, pick up a copy of the Inferno (why does it seem like no one ever reads Paradiso?) and figure out where you fall on the spectrum of sinfulness.

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Purgatory (Repenting Believers)High
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)Low
Level 2 (Lustful)High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)Low
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)Very Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)Low
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)Very Low
Level 7 (Violent)Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)Low
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)Low

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

Lately I've been possessed of an incredible urge to write--It's a fever, though that metaphor has of course been overused. Poems, stories, essays, ramblings (isn't that, in essence, what an essay is?)...and yet I can't get my mojo working on a paper that is due this Friday (which would be tomorrow). I'll try to get through it with minimal parentheticals, though that's difficult for me. A communique from me without parentheses is like a day without sunshine...or, in Ithaca, a day without weather so cold it makes your face numb and freezes the condensation from your breath into a solid sheet on your scarf. Maybe that's indicative of the way my mind moves--in jumps, rather than in straight lines; meandering rather than plunging straight to the heart of the matter. Which is not to say that I'm incapable of being straightforward, but rather that I have a sort of sub-subclinical ADD that doesn't exactly derail my train of thought, but--to mix metaphors--makes it skip like an old record that the cat scratched the hell out of once and now goes directly from track 2 to track 5.
Sample internal dialogue: I'll sit down and write this paper for my class. Can't find the book...ooh, there's the yarn I'm going to use to put fringe on my scarf...should I just do that now? No, paper...still can't find the damn book...I'm sure there's a translation online somewhere. It's got to be public domain after 800-odd years. And then I'll be able to use the search function to find what I'm looking for...ooh, look, a quiz...hey, I can post the results to my blog! Awesome! Oh, look, it's almost time for dinner...I heard we're having cabbage rolls; what are those exactly? Like Jewish dolmades, right? I still have to send out the last of my valentines...and once I'm finished with this post I'll hardly have enough time to write much on the paper before dinner...

and FIN.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Some things I'm loving right now...

1. "Samson," a startlingly spare but beautiful song by Russian chanteuse Regina Spektor (doesn't that sound like a sentence out of a real music review?)

2. Rereading Dante's Inferno for my 'Bodies of the Middle Ages' class. Hell, I love it.

3. The fact that I've had a long streak of really good crashing and burning, just my body moving like a smooth, well-oiled machine.

4. xkcd, a webcomic that Keith introduced me to... (thanks, Keith!) Lots of inside math and science jokes, so go on...nerd it up.

5. Hand-made valentines. I'm sending them instead of Christmas cards, since there's so much more time in February than in December, and because it feels less awkward to tell people how much you love them on a day devoted to such emotions. *I love you!*

6. Loreena McKennitt's new CD, which I got as soon as it came out, and which I have been listening to on repeat ever since (except when I'm on the treadmill, and sometimes even then).

7. Kittens. Duh. Plug "cute overload" into a search engine. Or, alternately, go to I miss my animals.

8. My pal Mary Lou's British accent. Accents in general, except for--God help me--Chinese. Don't know why.

9. My new women's self defense class! Ithaca is basically run by old lesbians, and this class is no exception! Taught by a fiftyish lesbian with a fourth-degree blackbelt and an interest in womyn's spirituality (moral of the story is--don't piss this woman off). This class is going to be awesome. Unless she decides she doesn't like me, and breaks me. I feel like she could do it...maybe even accidentally, like sneezing. Hopefully she recognizes her own kind.

10. Frozen yogurt, which I ate accidentally this morning. Accidentally? How, you ask? I grabbed a yogurt for a quick breakfast this morning, and as I was eating it while walking to class (with the oh-so-balmy -18 windchill--yes, that's a negative sign) it up and FROZE. Moral of the story, part two: yogurt ought not be crunchy.