angry inside

June 19, 2011

i’m not often so, so angry inside. however, when this severe irritability takes hold, i tend self-impose isolation. there’s a violent rage pinging off my insides.

friends have told me that i would benefit from surrounding myself in good company. while that sounds comforting, i can fathom nothing worse than familiarity while in this mood. i worry that i will on the one hand have to act fake or bring another down in my muck, and on the other hand i will unreasonably lash out.

my isolation is less about solitary confinement, and more about away from anyone who might have expectations of me. i prefer loud and crowded anonymity or quiet alone time. please don’t engage me in a conversation. and then i wonder if this is because i’m “faking it” in my daily life. i also question the roots of my inability to show a “weaker” side of myself – is it insecurity, distrust, perfectionism, guilt…?

hopefully i wake up on the right side of the bed tomorrow.

Advertisements

i’ve had this blog for some time now – what, maybe 6 years? – and have not published many posts. to be sure, i’ve been writing – jots, random thoughts, and a lot of unfinished drafts. but then i would hem and haw, fiddle, delete, insert, delete, fudge fudge fudge with structure, point, flow… too many voices.

it’s time i learned to structure my arguments, more quickly and concisely.

i’m going to write more often. i won’t set myself up for failure with a schedule of posts yet, and “more often” won’t be difficult to achieve given my track record.

i’m doing this because… rather, i didn’t do this earlier because i thought that it might put me in a box. i wasn’t ready to choose a theme for my blog. i’m still not. and that’s ok.

as well, i resisted the idea of writing short quips because i felt i could not support my arguments and some topics are just worth much more than a few lines afford. i realized that could and would try to support too many arguments, and maybe in the future i’ll pick one perspective and write holes into the others. i recognize that a blog is not an academic forum, but it is a good place to work out some ideas, and hopefully get some feedback. moreover, with ¬†i just caught my self trying to defend another point. yay, progress!

cheers! here’s to the first of potentially many, voice-schizophrenia* blogs!

all voices will remain anonymous, but it’s still just.ness ūüôā

i thought that i would begin a new blog today. the one you’re reading has been around and back again, with disorder as a theme and infrequent posts, often representing (or reflecting) my musings as a professional full-time graduate student and samplings of careers ranging from… well, actually, i don’t write as often as i should. there have been many. many many!

the new blog would have chronicled my efforts to streamline, and as far as blogs go, i figured it would be a theme i could stick to. plot: the evolution of a non-nerd.

i’ve been imagining starting anew. but i thought it might be premature to be stake my claim at a new life. it’s only a few days before i will know whether or not i will matriculate into a doctoral program. or rather, when i get “that letter” that tells me that the academy (and thus my mother) thinks i’m good enough.

i can’t deny that i want to know and it means a great deal to me too. but i’m quite realistically pessimistic about my chances to gain admission in the one and only school that i applied to, and even in my wildest dreams, i’m unsure about whether or not i would got in.

always with my hands in several pots, that means i have begun preparing for another life – outside academia. really. no looking back, no university-community research gigs for insecure and insensitive, asshole, non-paying principle investigators (dude. i just said, i’m trying to start anew. browse my blog to piece together who is the witch). it’s time to make something of myself.

that’s how far i got. so, you see, i really am at the very beginning phase of thinking of a non-academic me.

today, i picked up the 2010 version of “What Color is Your Parachute?”. once upon an undergrad job, i was a career advisor. i encountered phd students days from defending, in tears, asking little ol’ me what they should do with their lives?! i kept on. now, for the first time, i’ll read one of these career books for real.
I’ll let you know how it goes…

mid-length hair sucks

January 8, 2010

just a mini gripe:

mid-length hair sucks in terms of attractiveness and being able to style or tie-up.

i had the guts to hack my lovely, long, long black hair into a great croppy mess. didn’t even cry. it was such an excellent cut that as it grew back, for five months i liked it.

however it’s at that unfortunate mid-length that there’s nothing to do except hide it under a toque.

speaking of toques; they only look good when your skin is doing the dew. i, unfortunately, am also having a bad skin week :S

at least it grows back quickly. or do i chop it again?!

done mini gripe.

heady fuzz or purplebananas

September 12, 2009

after starting-stopping new blogs, pondering focus affected & effect by place & people in my space & time, i feel as though i’m back to the beginning. i suppose with an appreciation for the difficulty in pigeon-holing she, who is me!?

look to the right :::> and…

down.

those are my latest delicious links with imported bookmarks. i’m still learning how to use delicious to my benefit (streamlining?), but in the meantime, i think the links are able to convey quite a bit about what i’m up to… until i get around to writing posts more frequently.

i’ve written previously about¬†the meaning of how one thinks of his/her own story, the background information, which they reflect upon and select from towards¬†a sort of¬†presention to others.¬†i considered how such narratives amongst men have tended to assert their¬†self-made-man-liness. the discourse similarly running through their stories was about proving themselves amidst a struggle.¬†

i also considered my own story and how i used it to project myself in a manner to protect myself.

or this is what i vaguely remember writing about here.

stemming from that discussion, and recent events, i’ve become ever more aware of the ambivalence i had¬†experience in writing this blog over the years. i¬†often checked my statistics, hoping that someone(s) care and read often; but also worry about anonymity. this concern limited what i wrote at times as¬†i wondered, what/if anything they were getting. in particular, when¬†i’d written about dating interracially, the popularity of this posting led me to think about how in-group and out-group readers might perceive my thoughts, and me.

for a while, i tossed around the idea of writing a new, entirely anonymous blog.¬† but rather, i¬†will just take a new approach to this blog.¬†i don’t like the idea of erasing or discarding the past from which i’ve learned;¬†it’s important and not to be taken-for-granted, even if it no longer centrally defines who i am.¬†after all,¬†the common denominator amongst past posts is me. across, interweaved, and throughout thoses posts, i believe that if one (such, as myself) is so inclined may find a core upon¬†which to grow.

drunk ([e]’n) dating

June 14, 2008

we don’t (necessarily) drink on our dates, but i’m drunk with him.

i realized the second morning that i’d woken up with him, looked in his eyes, and felt as though i had been drinking the night before. turns out he felt the same way – a rush of quickened, blurry, blissful moments the days and nights before: sporadic jumps into the cold lake, long hot walks through a flat city, wine, mussy hair, multiply tangental convos, travel tales, planning, our first “comfortable silence” when both of us wondered if the other was comfortable…

halt. symptoms of addiction. of course,¬†upon my first ‘withdrawal’ today. i realized i didn’t want to do the things we’d planned for the evening if he couldn’t, which he couldn’t –¬†understandably and responsibly, so. i’d been feeling the creeping of my own romantic evasion of responsibility too, but i didn’t care just yet. not too too much.

despite not really wanting to go out, being tired, and feeling guilty about work, i went out anyhow. i felt like i had to; to reassert my independence (or test/prepare my wall).¬†in that¬†moment of recognition, of wanting to stay home, i began to worry about being caught up. but it’s gone now, because the truth is, i actually wanted to stay home with or without him anyhow. still, had fun out with the peeps without him. phew, my fears of “falling” are premature.