Move over Tocqueville!

I’m thesising away, trying to get thirty pages worth at least on paper so I have plenty of time to edit, move around paragraphs, make things click, etc. I have some major reading on the state of exception that I have thus far neglected to do, which is somewhat of a nagging-stressing thing. It should still turn out okay though, I think.

I have been spectacularly anti-social since the end of classes. First, it was that I had final papers due earlier than most people. Then, everyone else was working on final papers, and I was done. Then, my parents were here. Then, I just felt very anti-social, and holed up and was unproductive. I feel much better now though.

I am looking forward to my IR focused classes this quarter. I’m officially signed up for Terrorism, but I know I’m going to have to petition to stay in anyway. I’m hoping the fact that my thesis title includes the phrase “war on terror” and uses the word “terrorism” about 100 times will earn me a spot.

Grades are supposed to be up, but I”m still missing a grade. I know there’s no way I got an incomplete and/or failed, so I’m wondering what gives. Okay, back to work. Have I mentioned I love Carl Schmitt? He’s such a drama queen! In bemoaning the possible rise of unipolar world order he says “the last round, the final step, in the terrible rings to a new nomos of the Earth!” Yeah, take that liberal internationalism!

How the hell is it the end of 6th week? I’m actually somewhat ahead of the game, since I have my thesis proposal on file and paper topics figured out for final papers. Because I can’t get out of my Schmittian mindset, I’m writing about “the exception,” as used by Machiavelli. Because Machiavelli basically says, it doesn’t matter what the law says, so long as you have arms to back them up, and then the prince (the sovereign) doesn’t have to follow the laws anyway, so long as he maintains the regime. And I think I’m writing about the tensions between love and equality as seen in Voltaire’s Candide but that is up in the air.

And also, I’ve done all this talk lately about “Abandoning The Plan.” I’m probably not applying for PhD programs after this is over. It’s a struggle for me just to complete this program because I don’t care about it; my heart isn’t into it. In hindsight, I chalk it up to one more thing I thought I was “supposed” to do, and realize I was definitely on to something when I bawled and insisted I did not want to go when I found out I got in here.

Another stark reminder that I should listen to my instincts, at all times.

This is just a post to say I am overwhelmed. Not neccesarily by work. Just by things. But it might be a good kind of overwhelmed soon.

I found a contradiction. So I’m checking my premises. Isn’t it obnoixous that I quote Rand (who is herself obnoxious) so shamelessly?

While I am quoting Rand, I am going to post one of my most favorite passage in possibly all of literature.

“She felt no anger toward anyone on earth. The things she had endured had now receded into some outer fog, like pain that still exists but has no power to hurt. Those things could not stand in the face of this moment’s reality, the meaning of this day was as brilliantly violently clear as the splashes of sun on the silver of the engine, all men had to perceive it now, no one could doubt it and she had no one to hate. ”

Thus concludes my shameless Rand-quoting. But since I know there is one other person in the world who can tell me exactly where in the book this comes from, I am not alone in my obsession.

Brent can’t tell me where this is from, but he does know that Charles Monet was a loner.

“The ability to make references that less than three people will get is a sign of talent”-Kevin

I ran a bunch of errands for my mom today, which required navigating through various suburban locales (in my mother’s car, which is rather unwieldy) and cursing the traffic. Just as I was in the middle of an internal rage about downtown Ridgewood (which I stupidly decided to drive through after missing the turn for Glen Avenue when everyone who grew up in the FLOW area should know that you shouldn’t go through downtown Ridgewood to get to Route 17) JBJ’s “Who Says You Can’t Go Home” came on the radio.

I took it as a sign that I should appreciate Jersey things, got some chai, and then managed to merge onto 17 in the stupid, unweildy car without having heart failure. There were lots of rageful drivers and flourishing commerce.

I also had thin crust pizza for lunch. I love New Jersey.

I had set aside today to work on my thesis proposal. It is not happening.

Things I Have Done So Far This Break Instead of Writing my Thesis Proposal

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I’ve gotten to talk briefly with both Laura and Sebastian this week; so good to catch up with the Original Misanthropes. Both of them are applying to UChicago at some point (Sebastian this year) so I’ve been dispensing advice on that front, and since Sebastian will obviously get in here, he’ll probably be visiting in April, yay! Sebastian is the one of the smartest people I know and very awesome; he entered Skidmore on a full scholarship demanding he be pre-med. Then he met Political-Theory-Professor, joined our drunken reading group, and got a government major in addition to the pre-med thing. Now he’s ditching med school for the ivory tower and I cannot image a better future colleague.

I remember how to do stats-math. You know, I don’t think I’m a total idiot in math. I think having BAD teachers 6th and 7th grade combined with my general disinterest meant I never got into the subject, never paid attention, and never tried. But I’m looking over the curriculum for quantative methods and I don’t know what my advisor meant when he said I needed a calculus background. This stuff is straight out of senior year sped math. I’m assuming you COULD use calculus formulas/methods that I’m not aware of to solve some of these problems, but I’ve been getting the right answers on the practice tests so I’m obviously doing something right.

I can be pretty arrogant about my own intelligence (defense mechanism much?) but on the other hand, it is weird realizing I may not be as stupid as I thought.

And my final paper topic got approved in my Schmitt class, so I am 1/3 of the way towards having my thesis topic approved. Or maybe 1/4. I can’t decide.

The amount of coffee I have consumed in the past 48 hours is disturbing. I was up until 2 AM the past two nights just thinking about academic nonsense.

Michael gets here in a week, and than I will have some sanity.

Wednesday I forced myself up early to edit my Midterm. Around 11 AM I hit the “I can’t do anything more about it” mindset, printed it out and turned it in. Then I went off to attempt to read for my Thursday class; I didn’t even bother to try and read any of the Foucault for my Interpretive Methods class. (And, because of Feminist Political Thought with Favorite-Professor, I knew enough about Foucault to still speak up in that class today. Thanks Skidmore-Government Department!)

There was a pizza & beer party for our program, but I didn’t stay long. I had some free wine, talked to some poly-sci people within my program, and then went home and returned the phone calls I’d ignored the past few days.

I talked to Jill-IAN tonight, and while we were on the phone she got a call from Drucifer, who she hasn’t seen since recently leaving our Workplace, and it occured to me that it is not so much that I miss him, but I do miss the three of us together. We were a team. When I think about all we did this summer together, I get sad because I have no equivalent here, and I miss them, and I miss New York, and I am thinking of our last night in Brooklyn and how whole I felt. I grant that I’m closer to Jill-IAN than Drew, and she would say the same for me, but we both love him for his no-BS advice, among other things. … What I wouldn’t give right now for a night at 3JP.

At my 2nd good-bye party (yeah, did I ever mention that? I had TWO going away parties because I became such a social-fucking-butterfly in New York…I don’t get it either) I pulled Drew and Jill aside for a second just because I needed a moment to formally recognize the awesomeness of our dynamic and friendship or something. I am lame.

I’m not neccesarily happy, overall, with the way things are going here in Chicago. But I am extraordinarily grateful for the best support system in the world.

I haven’t changed the time on my laptop to reflect Midwestern time. I have lived in the Northeast all my life (except for summer abroad) and so I am not into this whole “Central Time Zone” thing. It means the Daily Show comes on at 10 and that I have to remember to call my friends back home at eight-something my time, because it’s already 9-something there, and I don’t want to call too late.

They have various beers here that one cannot find in the Northeast. I’m sure there are brands of stuff that you can’t find here, but I haven’t noticed yet. Also, the Co-op by me takes off 5% if you bag your own groceries. I found this out because I made a big shopping trip, politely told the bagger I would bag my own stuff (it was my career for three years. I bag groceries better than you. Trust me. Also, I still remember a lot of produce codes) and found I got nearly $8 off. Eight dollars is important when you’re a student. I just spent an obscene amount of money on books for class.

Other Things:
There are imported squirrels here
There is a brand of soda called “Wildwood.” It tastes like RC Cola. They also make seltzer, orange soda, etc.
Different brands of bottled water than home
People are weirdly friendly. Like when we were driving out here, the toll collectors on the Ohio and Indiana Turnpikes were really happy and friendly. And the hotel people at the Ramada were friendly and not snooty.

I’m sure I will notice lots of other quirks. Right now though I am really, really tired and am going to go back to my apartment and take a nap. In the middle of the day. I like being a student.

Dusk is beginning to fall over Hyde Park and I’m high on life and a few plastic glasses of wine. (At college orientation they feed you. At grad school orientation they ply you with booze so you forget you have no income and 300 pages of reading.) Michael’s called me twice in the past week and so I finally return his call.

 I fill him in on the past few days, and he tells me again how different I sound on the phone “Different from a year ago…and totally different then five years ago.”
“Yeah. I’ve decided Hampshire Rachel is officially dead.”

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I’m safely in Chicago (and I guess I need a Chicago icon since I have half a dozen NY/Astoria ones) and the drive was not as bad as I thought. I have no internets in my apartment but that will be solved on Friday. My apartment is small, but perfectly adequete for one person and all mine. Um. I have a lot to write about but I’m standing at a computer in Reynolds Club and my brother is waiting for me so he can show me Chicago public transportation so this will have to wait.

Now I have to go get used to buses instead of subways.

And now I’m back at work, not doing data entry, and grumbling on Astorians about the power issues.

I’ve already lost the hat that I so smartly purchased, and this was the wrong morning to be without a hat. I am probably going to be reduced to buying an “I ‘Heart’ NY” hat from one of the touristy vendors by my office. It will probably cost $12. Yay Midtown-Tourist District. I’m at 52^nd and 7^th, so I’m mere blocks away from Rockefeller Center and the awful, awful tree (stolen from Wayne, NJ!) and Radio City Music Hall and the area is simply teeming with stupid tourists.

I really hope the MTA goes on strike because

a) It won’t affect me

b) I enjoy chaos (which is very un-Hobbesian of me!)

c) I like the fear-mongering in the media. Especially because it is also supposed to snow on Thursday

I am drinking disgustingly bad coffee that I bought at the kiosk downstairs. However, the bad coffee is kind of growing on me, and it does its job.

Also, I am a walking Ann Taylor ad today. Except for the functional footwear.

Apartment drama continues. I go back and forth between really, really wanting to stay in my place and wanting to just move and not deal with the increased rent/lease hassle, so I am making lots of phone calls and playing with budget numbers, and being all Type-A. And Brent would make my life sooo much easier if he would get over his “I don’t want to live with a girl” nonsense.

Grad School

Things are very decent. I am, at this time, very aware of “a year ago” and I am so, so, so thankful that anything going on now is NOTHING like that. That was so horrid.

Right now things are stable. The job is very good. I’m scared of the GREs because I am struggling with math that I haven’t looked at in 6 years, but I know the GREs will be alright. I am very aware that I will be “HERE” for about another year. And I am actually quite okay with it. I have a job that I don’t hate at all and it pays my rent. I have co-workers who amuse me, and provide a semblence of a social life for a loner like myself. I like it this way.

I still can’t believe I’m here. I’m in New York with a job and a place to live. Life is good. Drama sometimes, confusion prevelant…but still good. Some boy may not have any clue I’m alive (Grr, not this again) Meh. It’s life.

It was a fabulous, wonderful weekend marred only by the fact that I am returning to work instead of to school. I’ve been out of school for EIGHT MONTHS people, EIGHT MONTHS. Oh well, I’ll be going back at this time next year.

Laura was here visiting her brother, and though she was crunched for time, I got to see her on Thursday, which was lovely as always. We talked and talked, and went to Strand (I’m addicted), and I led her around like a blind lamb to slaughter. It’s only fair – I feel as if I’m carrying on a tradition, of sorts, as I was led around like a lamb to slaughter last summer. (Sebastian, you’re next!). I forget how much I miss her, even if she has become a liberal hippie. We hugged good-bye in the 14th Street Station and went back and forth like typical girls and made plans for my visit to Saratoga next month.

Friday at work, we were all pretty hostile because we weren’t getting a half day like everyone else on the planet, but it was quiet, and most of us were just wasting time online all day. After work I went out with some co-workers for awhile, came home, and read until Michael called.

I met up with Mike’s friend Iwho lives in SoHo. We drank beer whilst waiting for Michael to arrive and talked politics and books and made fun of Mike (who was an hour and a half late) Mike arrived and I bought a round of shots and we toasted to something, I don’t remember. Anyway, there was much merriment and I didn’t get home until 4 AM.

Saturday, Michael and I had quality time, lunch, sitting in Washington Square Park watching the NYU freshman (which I could write a book on in and of itself, it brought back so many weird memories), good-good conversation, stumbling into a table of political philosophy books, wandering aimlessly. We met up with Xina and her boy at the country music bar on the Upper East Side, and it was a fabulous time.

Sunday was recovering from Saturday’s antics

Monday, I went out to Rockaway Beach, which was lovely. It’s no Jersey Shore, but it’s okay. So I got a sunburn on the quintessential last day of summer, but it was just a really relaxing day, and I read a lot, and thought about the summer in my usual reflective way.

And now I’m back at work, and envious of those starting a new semester. Not because I miss college necessarily, but because I miss academia, and I belong in school. I was flitting around Washington Square Park, declaring “I’m enamored with this area, I want to go to school here!” but I worry about NYU’s Poli-Sci program. It’s…limited, to say the least, and while they do have a strong history department, I don’t really want a history PhD.

I am getting more and more serious about going to school in Texas. I mean, clearly I’m not quite cool enough for Manhattan, so why not go to Texas where every bar plays country music? And meet me a nice Southern Gentlemen. (To quote the favorite professor “Uck, forget about New York boys”) Although Brent was teasing that I am not graceful and refined enough to fit in down there. My take is I’ll be the vulgar Yankee girl. I’ll be a novelty. And I do know how to niche market.

My compliments to Jon who was a wonderful host, looked perfectly urbane, and ensured that every one of his guests had the opportunity to get sufficiently sloshed. Although my body is unforgiving of the decision to imbibe various delicious mixed drinks it is lovely to have a friend who goes to such lengths to ensure his friends not only get trashed, but enjoy their liquor. Love you Jon!

Edited to add, that although this is from Fourth of July weekend, I forgot to include it in my recap and so I’m preserving it for my own benefit, as all my journals are going to be stored in my parents attic upon my move out in 12 days

On the way to Target to buy baby presents:

Laura: …and so apparently there are still dancing bears in Romania
Sebastian: Of course there are still dancing bears in Romania!

Upon leaving Target

Laura: Is it okay if we go to the pet store too?
Me: Yeah, we don’t have anything else to do.
Sebastian: Yes, we are three useless college students wasting time.
Me: Hey! I am not a college student.
Sebastian: Sorry, sorry!
Me: I’m a useless, unemployed college graduate.

At the pet store, buying something for a rabbit.

Sebastian: The only thing I know about rabbits is…
Me: What the term ‘fuck like bunnies?”
Sebastian: Yes. I just didn’t want to say it
Me: You’re lucky you have vulgar American friends to say these things for you.

and “ewwww, it tastes like communism”

An “I’m Home” Entry

I got back to Jersey on Wednesday. I drove Sebastian to the airport on Wednesday morning, so I had someone to listen to me repeat “This is so weird. I’m leaving Skidmore. This is so weird.” The drive to Albany was very interesting and involved having to stop so I could put air in my tires (in the cold, while Sebastian sat in the car in his suit, (…so much for aristocratic treatment of women!), how Hobbes would approve of Cosmopolitan magazine, some frank advice from Sebastian for me (…well, you really shouldn’t, but it’s Christmas, so…), and relating Machiavelli to almost everything.

I hadn’t been very emotional beyond being in shock. I spent about five hours on Tuesday night on the phone with various people, being ridiculously happy. And then I completely lost it while driving away from Albany airport, because I was playing my “You Cannot Be Depressed Listening to This Mix” and apparently the song “I’m Movin’ On” when combined with actually ‘moving on’, and saying temporary good-byes to friends will make me cry. I am so maudlin. This is all very strange to me.

I sobbed until I hit the Thruway and then it was a very easy drive. I still haven’t unpacked, I’m back at B&N (and my new staff is amazing and I’m actually really happy to be back there), and I’m still in a good mood.

Dar Williams totally wrote “Better Things” for me, for December 2004

Tis hard to be back in the frozen North Country (as 100.3, THE POINT calls it) after a long, enjoyable weekend in Jersey. The air pollution keeps in the warm air.

This weekend:

-Wrote an insane amount for NaNo, taking my book in a new direction. And now it has a title!
-Climbed into my freezing cold attic wearing high heeled boots while tipsy to retrieve my high school yearbook to look something up and win a bet
-my high school picture reminds me I used to be a blonde. Ug
-Watched “Love, Actually”
-cried at the “To Me, You Are Perfect” part
-and the part where Emma Thompson confronts her husband about cheating
-Was accused of being a sap for aforementioned crying
-Duh
-This is why I prefer to watch my girly movies (I Capture the Castle, Eternal Sunshine, assorted Mandy Moore movies, among others) alone. Because I like to maintain my image as tough as nails

-Recieved Newsweek with Bush’s face on it. My parent’s arrived home:
Me: Oh yeah, and we got Newsweek. It has Bush’s smug face on the cover
Dad: Put it in the recycling
Me: I already did.
-Advised Jon that he should totally give up computer engineering and become a male Asian model
-Was hit by Jon for suggestion
-Got amazing, high class brunch food
-Made appeals to the Divine
-Cooked an insane amount
-Chilled with the cats, with a drink and some Dostoyevsky.
-Read bunches of essays, found authors I want to emulate
-Researched grad school programs, envisaged myself 35 and already a completely insane history professor
-Drove through deserted suburban streets
-Diner dwelled
-Fought with pillows. And my fists!
-Slept with all the lights on
-Kicked
-Insulted people
-Was read to

I love my Jersey weekends.

-It’s raining here. Remnants of Hurricane Ivan. Appropriate since much of my Russian reading this week has been Ivan III (The Great) and Ivan IV (The Terrible). Russian names sound so threatening and evil.
-”Drinking Green Mountain coffee is virtuous [because it's fair trade coffee]. You’re not addicted to caffeine. You’re addicted to helping people get fair pay for growing coffee.” – Modern Political Thought on Wednesday.

-Saratoga has the oldest operating race track in the country. That’s because after the Battle of Saratoga George Washington was like “We have all these ponies…lets have them run around in a circle and people can bet on them.” Yes. Ponies.- my brilliant housemate

-Buckley and Beer. And Baseball!

-I want to go to Russia. Or Italy.