And the world spins madly on
Frequent question: So, what are you doing for your [unbelievably small] Thanksgiving break?
My frequent answer: Writing a paper.
At least, those were the initial plans.
I haven't completely started on the paper, but I'll get to that in a sec. All I really wanted to do was sleep in. Today was the first day I actually got to do it. (Yesterday, I should've been able to, but my insomnia was all like "Rah, I rock at horrible timing! Rah!" Yes, insomnia, I get it. You totally pwn menstruation in terms of chrono-centric annoyance.) Naturally, I slept. Woke up. Slept some more. Slept more than some more. In short, I started this wink-catching cycle last night at 10:30PM. I woke up on and off, trying to get myself to not waste time and actually work on that paper, and that failed as I slept until the early morn circa 7. Was up for a while. Fell back asleep. Did the fun on and off game until 3:30 freaking PM, and only woke up because a flatmate called to check with me on something. Wasted a whole day on sleep. (Maybe my mistake was leaving the TV on the History Channel, which usually has interesting things. Maybe I should have left it on MTV on which some horribly worthless programming would air which even my subsconscious was morally offended by.) Didn't help because I proceeded to waste the second half doing online crossword puzzles. Nice.
Tomorrow/today actually is my first Saturday off of work in the longest time. (I do have to work Sunday, though, as usual.) I didn't realize how burnt out I was until I felt so relieved having this day off. (When you get so used to working weekends, you forget what it's like to actually associate Saturdays and Sundays with what most people associate them with: a break.)
Anyway, reasons for interrupted and deferred sleep this week:
1.Good-ish reason: no class on Tuesday, but did have to get up early in the morning to trek to NYC for an internship interview for the Spring. Only sent out applications last weekend, so I was rather surprised to hear back from this one place so soon. Position would be in the development department of a reality TV production company. While I usually take a moral (read: intellectual snobbery) high ground when it comes to reality TV, the person I'd be working under seems nice. Plus, they've got some pretty popular shows on cable networks right now, and it's not an opportunity you should really pass up if offered. No, I haven't sold my soul to capitalism. But I'm getting there.
2.Had press internship Wednesday morning in addition to work that afternoon. (Rutgers was on a Friday schedule Wednesday, and Thursday schedule on Tuesday. Yeah. Don't ask.)
3.Napping was pretty difficult too with all the flatmate drama. Basically, we finally managed to oust one of our flatmates. (And then there were three...) To paint the picture for you, the chick was the pinnacle of 1.inconsiderate 2.passive aggressive 3.schizophrenic paranoid 4.intolerance of everything that's not her(s). Her taste in men spoke ill of her, as well, as her current beau is King of Creepy for, among other things, his belief in treating pot as water and performing backyard abortions. We tried to set our bar of expectations super low to retain tolerance of her for the duration, but not even we could play that cruel, backbreaking, metaphoric game of limbo. I mean, we did manage to live with all those aforementioned ills for three months and only went mildly deranged. She does still have a key/card to the apartment, so we haven't completed the exorcism yet and probably won't be able to until the end of the semester. Until then, we'll just have to live with the paranoia that she will drag her boyfriend over to do things in/on our stuff when we're out. And yes, thanks to true tales, we have every reason to believe that's a possibility. And no, you don't want the real examples.
Anyway, to the paper I'm writing. So, it's for my pop culture class. I'm taking a look at 4 different episodes of 30 Rock specifically looking at what, if any, difference the sex of the writer has on the comedy in the episode. No, I'm not a crazy feminist who thinks the world's out to get me because I have a vagina. (I'm well aware if they're out to get me, it's because of the aliens talking to me in my head. Duh.) I've just seen discussions about the impact a writer's sex has on the material often enough for it to be noteworthy on forums related to SNL and 30 Rock.
I also remember discussing some feminist literary theory back in my Lit Theory class a couple years ago. (Apparently, Charles Dickens wrote to George Eliot something along the lines of "Madam, I know you are a woman!") My professor of the current class recommended I at least mention it a little bit in this one, in a paragraph or less. So, I'm hoping the library I work out has some good, succinct feminist theory. Of course, I would save some time if someone with a lot of experience on this topic could point me in the direction of some good gender-related literary criticism. You know, just saying. In case anyone on the f-list had been working on a project giving itself to an inevitable encounter of such criticism. Not that I have anyone specific in mind. Nope.
I think that does enough post-midnight ranting and rambling by me. Oh, almost forgot my weekly acknowledgment of slacking on the f-list commenting and the inevitable oath to catch up on all your post. Well, you guys know how this goes by now. So, just insert that bit at your whim.
My frequent answer: Writing a paper.
At least, those were the initial plans.
I haven't completely started on the paper, but I'll get to that in a sec. All I really wanted to do was sleep in. Today was the first day I actually got to do it. (Yesterday, I should've been able to, but my insomnia was all like "Rah, I rock at horrible timing! Rah!" Yes, insomnia, I get it. You totally pwn menstruation in terms of chrono-centric annoyance.) Naturally, I slept. Woke up. Slept some more. Slept more than some more. In short, I started this wink-catching cycle last night at 10:30PM. I woke up on and off, trying to get myself to not waste time and actually work on that paper, and that failed as I slept until the early morn circa 7. Was up for a while. Fell back asleep. Did the fun on and off game until 3:30 freaking PM, and only woke up because a flatmate called to check with me on something. Wasted a whole day on sleep. (Maybe my mistake was leaving the TV on the History Channel, which usually has interesting things. Maybe I should have left it on MTV on which some horribly worthless programming would air which even my subsconscious was morally offended by.) Didn't help because I proceeded to waste the second half doing online crossword puzzles. Nice.
Tomorrow/today actually is my first Saturday off of work in the longest time. (I do have to work Sunday, though, as usual.) I didn't realize how burnt out I was until I felt so relieved having this day off. (When you get so used to working weekends, you forget what it's like to actually associate Saturdays and Sundays with what most people associate them with: a break.)
Anyway, reasons for interrupted and deferred sleep this week:
1.Good-ish reason: no class on Tuesday, but did have to get up early in the morning to trek to NYC for an internship interview for the Spring. Only sent out applications last weekend, so I was rather surprised to hear back from this one place so soon. Position would be in the development department of a reality TV production company. While I usually take a moral (read: intellectual snobbery) high ground when it comes to reality TV, the person I'd be working under seems nice. Plus, they've got some pretty popular shows on cable networks right now, and it's not an opportunity you should really pass up if offered. No, I haven't sold my soul to capitalism. But I'm getting there.
2.Had press internship Wednesday morning in addition to work that afternoon. (Rutgers was on a Friday schedule Wednesday, and Thursday schedule on Tuesday. Yeah. Don't ask.)
3.Napping was pretty difficult too with all the flatmate drama. Basically, we finally managed to oust one of our flatmates. (And then there were three...) To paint the picture for you, the chick was the pinnacle of 1.inconsiderate 2.passive aggressive 3.schizophrenic paranoid 4.intolerance of everything that's not her(s). Her taste in men spoke ill of her, as well, as her current beau is King of Creepy for, among other things, his belief in treating pot as water and performing backyard abortions. We tried to set our bar of expectations super low to retain tolerance of her for the duration, but not even we could play that cruel, backbreaking, metaphoric game of limbo. I mean, we did manage to live with all those aforementioned ills for three months and only went mildly deranged. She does still have a key/card to the apartment, so we haven't completed the exorcism yet and probably won't be able to until the end of the semester. Until then, we'll just have to live with the paranoia that she will drag her boyfriend over to do things in/on our stuff when we're out. And yes, thanks to true tales, we have every reason to believe that's a possibility. And no, you don't want the real examples.
Anyway, to the paper I'm writing. So, it's for my pop culture class. I'm taking a look at 4 different episodes of 30 Rock specifically looking at what, if any, difference the sex of the writer has on the comedy in the episode. No, I'm not a crazy feminist who thinks the world's out to get me because I have a vagina. (I'm well aware if they're out to get me, it's because of the aliens talking to me in my head. Duh.) I've just seen discussions about the impact a writer's sex has on the material often enough for it to be noteworthy on forums related to SNL and 30 Rock.
I also remember discussing some feminist literary theory back in my Lit Theory class a couple years ago. (Apparently, Charles Dickens wrote to George Eliot something along the lines of "Madam, I know you are a woman!") My professor of the current class recommended I at least mention it a little bit in this one, in a paragraph or less. So, I'm hoping the library I work out has some good, succinct feminist theory. Of course, I would save some time if someone with a lot of experience on this topic could point me in the direction of some good gender-related literary criticism. You know, just saying. In case anyone on the f-list had been working on a project giving itself to an inevitable encounter of such criticism. Not that I have anyone specific in mind. Nope.
I think that does enough post-midnight ranting and rambling by me. Oh, almost forgot my weekly acknowledgment of slacking on the f-list commenting and the inevitable oath to catch up on all your post. Well, you guys know how this goes by now. So, just insert that bit at your whim.