Category Archives: news

an interruption

I’m reading like mad. 81 books since January 1. So much for writing like mad; there’s just no time when you’re devouring so many books and magazines and journals and blogs. Reading just makes me want to read more, which then makes me want to live more and travel more, especially when I read books like The Gastronomical Me or when my parents gush about their recent trip to France and Spain. They keep making statements like, “Europe is amazing!” and “You would really fit in in Paris, Hannah” as if a) those aren’t statements that Captain Obvious would say and b) I can do anything about that currently. I have such an itch to travel, and I have no money or time to do it. So I’m already on the search for jobs that will take me abroad for short spurts, research projects that require travel, and New England and Canadian spots that are only a train away once I move to Boston. I’m thinking Quebec may be my next international destination, and I’m okay with that, as long as Ireland, France, or Cuba come soon after that. In that vein, I also created a travel page to the right.

I’m also updating this blog like mad. You’ll see a new page with all my published book reviews linked. This was an interesting project, because I realized how many of them I don’t have any recollection of at all. I’m glad I keep better track of my reading now, both in a statistical way with GoodReads, and in a more intellectual way with more annotating, journaling, and blogging. I actually don’t have a problem with reading and not remembering what you’ve read (not all the time, at least), but if that’s all you ever do, that’s a problem. So that page is new, I’ve added a gazillion blog and website links, and I actually found links to some of the work I’ve published in the past.

Speaking of publishing, you’ll also see on that page a link to the Swirl blog, where my biracial literature post was re-published. And I just got a poetry acceptance for an online literary journal. I’m going to take more frequent stabs at publication now, because I now remember what a high it is.

Finally, I’m reading the best book ever, and it’s weird, because it’s actually a textbook. But not like a biology one. The Pleasures of Children’s Literature, at least thus far, is an amazing resource on literature study of any kind, of literature teaching of any kind, and it’s really inspiring a lot of exploration and thinking. So I have a post in the works with my ideas coming out of the first few chapters of that.

Hooray for the dog days of summer, when things begin to have meaning again! Being mostly unemployed might be the best thing ever to happen to me.

wake up

A new playlist for the fall. There will be one that is much more inspired come winter break.

2010 begins with my friends giving me princess tiana presents. at age 21, i have finally become a disney child.

Home from my propaganda trip to Israel and already fully immersed in the spring semester, I am trying to be positive, healthy, and good to myself. That means I must try to stave off bad habits and vices, like casual sex and booze, and instead spend my time actually doing my homework (100 pages of psych reading in one day, check), practicing my music (actually got accepted for voice lessons and will continue to have piano lessons, plus have been writing songs that I should work on more diligently), performing both of my jobs more professionally than I did last semester, and doing creative and intellectual things that will ultimately make me a happier and better person (I hope) than instant-gratification activities. This means I want to journal at least every other day, blog maybe once a week about something interesting and meaningful, and read lots of books. I have charged myself to read at least 40 books in 2010. I haven’t decided yet whether that will include books for school or not; that will depend largely on my progress. Thus far I have finished two: The Handmaid’s Tale and Very LeFreak, and I will follow that by another book I have to review, Wench, plus the two books I had already started reading before I began reading Rachel Cohn’s book to review, and then I’ll take it from there. I have an inter-library loan that I have to read before it’s due back (any way to find out ahead of time what they’d charge if you just “lost” the book? It’s incredibly out of print and will help me with my thesis, so I really just want to keep it forever), and I just ordered two books from Amazon along with a Norton anthology that I need for class. The books are ones I ordered in October which were “delivered” but never recovered. I am sick of the post office never calling me back when I complain about my idiot postman (he delivers our packages to our neighbors’ backyard repeatedly), so I spent $30 replacing things I should have read months ago.

Kvetch, kvetch. I should add more Yiddish to my daily vocabulary (as if I don’t use it enough) but do less kvetching.

I am taking a class called African/African American Psychology as my second-to-last general education course. I expected it to be more like a history class than a hard psych class, given that it’s listed under Africana Studies and not under Psychology, but it seems that it is more about the history of psychology and race and how they interact. Still interesting, though the first class was iffy. Can’t decide if the professor realizes that he is presenting cliches as fact, but I am willing to suspend my shock and assume that he has a grand plan for us all–after all, he has a PhD. Interestingly, when I walked in the room, I noticed that a very small percentage of the class is comprised of black students. There are maybe eight in a class of 35. A couple people have already made dumb remarks, but it should be an interesting class that should, if nothing else, make me think a lot and give me fodder for my writing. And I’d also like to use the class to inform some new projects for Hillel. I really want to create a cross-cultural discussion group with African American students, but so far all of the departments I’ve contacted have been pretty unresponsive. It’s something I’ve wanted to do all year, though, and this class has rekindled that interest. And it’s only been three days of school.

I’m also taking Portuguese, which is already painfully easy, but it’s good to learn how to write it, because that is the area in which you can tell that I am a faker and only pretend to be a Brazilian who can speak it. I plan on going to some of the discussion groups, because I feel that practice writing and speaking without lapsing into English or Spanish will be good for me. However, the class is called Portuguese for Spanish Speakers, so hopefully it will soon be a) less boring and b) faster moving. Everyone just needs to stop pronouncing words as if they are Spanish.

I originally began talking about my AFAS class because we have to do a group project, which I hugely resent, but I also acknowledge that psychologists work together. However, given that I was previously employed as an editor/proofreader of the writing of groups of social researchers, I know that this is not a good idea, because groups of people are worse writers than individual people, who tend to be terrible writers anyway. But, given that controversy with Bloomsbury publishing, and how they’re at it again with whitewashing their YA covers to make everyone who is dark appear white, I am more excited for this group project, because that could be an excellent topic.

More on Bloomsbury later. Now it’s time for Hillel research and an early bedtime. I have been sleepy as hell since returning home.

three months later…

I actually update the playlist.

oh, summer

New playlist up. The theme is obvious, but that doesn’t make the occasion for it any less wonderful.

yo voy, voy, voy

How exhausting. Orbitz decided not to work correctly, so I got charged $5000 for one ticket, and while calling to deal with that, I ended up canceling all the tickets and the lady found me a flight to Montevideo for only $926. Pretty sweet.

So yes, I am going to Uruguay! Paris is no more. It wasn’t worth sitting around on a wait list, not knowing whether I’d definitely have something to do this summer, so I’m doing something that costs a hell of a lot cheaper. And it’ll be really, really good for me to be a tad bit out of my comfort zone, practicing my Spanish, and doing something a bit more off the beaten track. There will always be opportunities to go to Europe. But this will be great. I gave myself two weeks of travel time afterwards, for possibly a day or two in Antarctica (!), and then some South American bus riding up to Iguazu Falls (if you’ve seen the fourth Indiana Jones movie, those would be those endless and terrifying waterfalls from the movie). Everyone says stay in Argentina and Paraguay when you go there, because the Argentinian side of the falls is nicer, plus you need a visa to get into Brazil, so lucky for me, the visa I used when I went to Brazil four years ago is a five-year visa, so it’s still valid! Shweet. Sometimes parents are useful, because they’re the ones who remembered that, not me.

So hooray! South American traveling. Spanish speaking. Meeting Jewish people in Uruguay. Long weekend in Buenos Aires where I actually have a small branch of the Jewish side of my family living. Awesome? Yes.

lovers

February playlist up. Guess what the theme is.

so this is the new year

Sipping licorice tea, listening to the soundtrack to “Cadillac Records,” revising my “resolutions.” New playlist up.

oh, oh, it’s magic

I have been complaining for weeks, since my Archive concert, that I lost my H&M sunglasses. The next morning after the concert, I looked in the case and they weren’t there. They weren’t in my backpack. They weren’t in my purse. They were gone. It was depressing. There were a few reasons for complaining. First, we all know how hard it is to find a good pair of sunglasses. They have to be the right size and shape for your face. They have to have a tint that doesn’t distort your vision. They have to be loose enough (if you have a big head like me) that they don’t give you a headache. Second, I couldn’t buy another pair, because I bought them last December in New York, and not only would they not still be selling nearly a year later, but we don’t have H&M in Arizona, anyway. Third, they were kind of awesome, because people often ask me if they’re Chanel, and it’s like, “Yeah, bitch; but yours cost $200 more than mine.” That’s always fun.

So I’ve just been mooning around for weeks, wearing an old pair of sunglasses that are so tight, I get massive headaches every time I wear them. Seriously. Finally I caved yesterday and bought a new pair at some kiosk of scarves, jewelry and sunglasses on the mall. I got a yellow scarf as well, and in total it was $10, so no matter what, not a total loss. The new glasses are brown, which I almost never do, and what I didn’t realize until I walked away is that they have nasty zebra stripes on the side. But that you don’t see when I wear my hair down, which is almost always, so whatever. Sunglasses are sunglasses, and squinting is annoying.

The old case for my old glasses has just been sitting on my desk forever. I knocked it down yesterday, and since I was cleaning my room just now, I figured I’d pick it up and put it back on my desk. Strangely, it felt heavy. So I opened it. And my old sunglasses were inside.

I swear that I checked when I couldn’t find my sunglasses. That’s how I realized they were lost–because they weren’t in the case. How did they get there? Magic is so cool.

i got a man and he’s so good to me, la la la la

For once, being happy isn’t killing my writing. My knuckles ache tonight, and I’m nowhere near done with my story. I need to finish the whole thing, or at least a good chunk, to send to my discussion group for tomorrow. Procrastinating is obviously still a demon in my life, but at least I’m writing now. It’s been so long since I’ve felt like this, having so many ideas in my head I have to keep switching from this story to that journal to that list and so on… It feels so good to be overwhelmed with ideas. Ever since my computer crashed this summer, even starting to write felt depressing. I found no joy with it. Now it’s coming back.

It helps that I had a really good advising session today. My music advisor is an asshole, so I prefer to email him rather than meet with him. But I’m required to go the English office for advising for my creative writing minor, otherwise I can’t register for classes, so today I went. I had the session with the guy who was just made head of the department, and he’s also my fiction professor, and we ended up having a good conversation. As a result, I’m taking far more English classes than I originally planned for next semester. I have priority registration on Sunday, and at the moment there are about 7 classes in the Excel schedule I’ve been making. I’ll have to drop some, but I just can’t decide which ones, because they’re all great. I will also have a Tuesday/Thursday-heavy schedule for once, instead of the other way around, and I should be done really early on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. All of a sudden, life is good. Even my concussion and my neck are healing.

The story I’m writing now I’ve had in my head forever. It usually takes me a good year or two to write a story I’ve memorized in my head. So I knew exactly what the interesting points were, some of the lines of dialogue, the visuals, the motifs, the theme, etc. But as I’m writing now, I’m seeing all of my anxieties transfer on. I think they still work with the story, but I’m not sure, because I feel so overcome by them right now. This is the first week I’ve been able to say this phrase, and I’m having a lot of trouble with it: “My boyfriend.” It’s on Facebook, so it’s real, and apparently when someone requests to change your relationship status, you get a message that says “[Name] requests that you add him as your boyfriend.” I beamed, as if it were a personal message from him to me. I’m a little bit of a freak.

I really want to say that phrase, because it’s like a really tempting slice of cake. A cake that you’ve seen in the window for days and you really want to eat, and then finally you get to buy it (and it’s just magically not stale, days later) and eat it. But you’re scared to eat it, because it’s probably about ten million calories. And I’m scared to say it, because I don’t want to go and rush things like I always do. I shouldn’t be, because it’s true. It has to be. He decided it to be so, and I wanted it, and when both parties want and one decides, it becomes fact. But if you eat the cake, it will never, ever taste as good as you imagined, and you’ll probably feel gross after you finish, because you just ate diabetes. I don’t want to seem overly happy or rub him in anyone’s face, even accidentally, because I hate it when people do that around me. But I’m just so giddy about the fact. On my superficial level, I just want to shout it from the rooftops because I’m just so damn happy about it. And on a serious level, I just feel good about myself and him.

I finished my Creed for this year today. It took me weeks to write, which has never happened. I don’t know what that means.

bee-tea-dubs, the title of this entry comes from a santana song featuring mary j. blige, sleepy brown, and big boi, called “my man.” and it’s actually good, so you should listen to it.