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Sunday, August 26th, 2007
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8:55 pm - im baaaaack....beeeyooootchhhess!!
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| Thursday, June 23rd, 2005
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10:53 am - A Farewell Tribut to Chastity, Paragon of Mammalian Rights and Equality
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NYTimes, Special Edition, National Desk - This just in:
As news of Miss Chastity's (1992-2005) untimely demise leaked out,
thousands of mourners appeared across the country to show their grief and
to pay tribute to this symbol of animalitarian beliefs and feline rights.
Mourners dressed in black static filled clothes that had collected cat and dog
hair. They stood proudly by their pets and held aloft a tuft of lawn grass -
the late Chastity's favorite snack. The New York Times is honoring this paragon
of the animal rights movement by printing some of the stunned public response
to the news of her loss.
Even though your NYT obit made me laugh out loud, I can only imagine you
are quite sad right now and missing your companion. Besides being US
Weekly's most sought-after correspondent, Chastity was sweet when she could
be, and I hope you both had a nice last moment to say goodbye.
Sending all of my love, Erin
i'm so sorry about chastity.
love,
maya
I'm very sad to hear about your loss. I know you gave Chastity a very happy
and comfortable life, one in which she was always free to express her political
opinions. I know you always showed her a lot of respect and consideration
in that regard. And I know you took good care of her in the past few months
as her health was failing. I know you'll miss her a lot, but hope it will be
comforting for you to look back at your most happy memories of times spent
with her.
Abrazos de
Natalie and Lily
So sorry to hear about Chastity. She lived a good life and was lucky to have a
housemate like you.
Joanne
I am so sorry to hear about Chastity. I hope you are doing well and am very
glad that she didn't suffer too much in the end. Great obit, though she would
approve and scratch you mildly to show it.
J
I'm so sorry about your cat. How sad for you.
Besos Wendy/xxx
ohmygod, that's so sad. are you sad? i know you loved chastity a lot.
i'm so sorry.
love,
leigh
I'm sure kitty heaven is a much better place for her, filled with mice, fish, and
mountains of catnip. Plus I think she was always a little lonely for Elvis. All of
us will remember Chastity with a fond heart (Even Dad!). Stay strong Sister!
Love,
Auntie Claire
So sorry! Its always hard to lose a pet no matter the circumstances.
xoj
If your dissertation is half as clever as this note, you will be the first New York
Times Book Award Winner to get the Nobel Prize in Economics! [He meant to say
anthropology… - Ed.]
Love, Dad, Chastity's Grandfather
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| Wednesday, June 22nd, 2005
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11:18 pm - R.I.P. Chastity - "She didn't take no shit"
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Special to the NYTimes Obituary Section
Chastity Bono Yezer, of Durham NC, Chicago IL and
Bethedsa Maryland passed away this morning, June 22nd,
in what can only be described as a very satisfying
overdose of sodium penathol.
Chastity, a feline tortoiseshell shorthair, was best
known for her appearances on the living room and back
porch easy-chairs, and growling presence at the front
screen door.
Known as a "difficult creature" to some, Chastity
enjoyed expressing her political opinions: "She saw
herself as a revolutionary, protesting the ways that
pets were expected to be quiet and look cute" her
owner, Caroline Yezer, recalled in an interview. "No
one pissed her off more, for example, than Paris
Hilton's dog Tinkerbell, which she called a 'slave to
the facist humancentric system.'" Her owner also
remembered that Chastity had an amazing ability to
predict romantic outcomes "She went beserk when JLo
and Ben got together, and totally predicted their
breakup down to the date, which she scratched into her
litter."
Miss Yezer, who died due to unresolveable asthmatic
complications, did not suffer much in her final hours.
She is survived by her owner and housemate, and
several close family members.
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| Sunday, May 15th, 2005
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6:24 pm - Out of hibernation
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Its beautiful out and Im stuck here in Komputor-Landia writing Chapter XXX of my dissertation, "The Sexual Life of Academics". Its sort of a tretise on kinship and copulation among students at a large private university in the South. I was busy being on the job market these past few months and I had to put my writing of this chapter on hold along with my blog for a while. But now I feel the need...the need to blog.
Yes folks here I will drop you some wisdom about the yearly ritual of the Academic Job Market, as I experienced it: You send about 50 two pound packages of letters, diss summaries, articles and student teaching evaluations to various universities, then you dont hear anything for months. Finally you get a call from a few (1-5 seems to be the average) jobs, and if you are lucky a campus visit or two. Then you dont hear anything until March and April when the rejection letters start streaming in. I got about two per day. After a while I started comparing them: which was the nicest? the classiest? which just couldnt be bothered to write much other than:'We found a candidate and you are not it'? Seems that I am not alone in my collecting and sorting of rejections - check out Ms. Candidate, a blogger who put her letters on the web for all to see. (note the one from dollycake).
Now back to the salt mines. Enjoy the weather,
dc
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| Wednesday, September 22nd, 2004
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1:56 pm - I heart action!
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Sorry Ive been writing a job letter over and over again so I havent had much time to blog. My priorities, it seems have gotten out of wack.
In any case, I was wondering if anyone out there knows where I can get this cool shirt I saw someone wearing on campus today? It says "I heart action". Does anyone know what that means?
I dont want to be the only one who doesnt know.
dc
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| Monday, September 13th, 2004
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8:25 pm - Time out for pre-academics
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Confidential to academic job searchers:
In a fit of panic I googled some advice on academic job letters. Now, I am passing this on to you, for, I am doing this as much as myself as for you. Or, perhaps I should say, this hurts me a lot more than it hurts you. Or something.
Finds include: this nice archive of advice from faculty women and this from the authors of The Academic Job Search Handbook. I also came across this funny article about how letters of recommendation and grad school is just one giant pyramid scheme!
Enjoy… dc
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| Saturday, September 4th, 2004
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10:30 am - Making Mythology Sexy
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First off, I just want to say Im Sorry to anyone who has gotten the "dancing cat" song from the link in the last post hopelessly caught in their heads. I did not realize that the video was so insanely engrossing, because I was under its spell myself. Second, I was going to put today's FUN LINKS at the end of my blog, but I doubt anyone will get to the end. So I will just tell you right now to check out this ARTEEST Isabel Samara . Isabel paints what naughty TV characters of the '60s and up might do off camera, especially if they were in Greco-Roman myths. My favorites are this HOTTT one of Robin and The Hornet, and this romantic kiss that just seems so right. Or maybe this one entitled "the Matyrdom of Pee Wee" --- eek there are just too many lovely ones, so please decide for yourselves!
Despite my forays into fine art appreciation, September has started and I am now in high anxiety mode. Every single restaurant, cafe and bar has been inundated with [a certain private university's] undergrads. My fellow grads are sweating away putting reading on reserve and making syllabi that inevitably will be ignored by about half of their students. This would not be so bad - after all, college is about more than just learning - if most of the undergrads I encountered in drinking and other establishments were not so...well, downright scary. No, I do not mean politically, or because of their huge SUVs - though those are reasons to be scared enough. I mean, just the sheer levels of conspicuous CONSUMPTION. It seems that, with every year, the students are richer and richer and spend more and more. Yesterday I saw a couple of undergrads out on a first date. The woman wore long dangling diamond earrings and the man had just ordered a bottle of expensive champagne served in its bucket of ice. This was a *first date* people! And, the restaurant was full of similar couples - about 90 percent were undergrad folks with nose jobs.
Moments like these I think, what the hell am I thinking going into academia? I mean, this is my *clientele* for God's sake. I'm not changing the world by teaching - I helping these folks to make better cocktail conversation. Why don't I just wise up and become these people's lawyer, or better yet SHRINK - and get paid decent to deal with it?
AND THEN, I remember that the job market is so bad that I will most probably not be hired at a place like [a certain private university], but at a public institution -- IF I am lucky. Perhaps there can be some kind of satisfaction in that, if not job security.
I will be honest though, all this kvetching is inspired by something other than the undergrads. Its my first year on the academic 'job market' which is scary enough, but to be right smack in the middle of writing your dissertation raises the bar a little. Somehow graduate students are supposed to have a key summary to what our dissertations are about before they are actually written, and be able to produce highly sexy, consumable nuggets about ourselves in a job letter sent out to various university hiring committees. The job letter is like one of those griffins or other Mythic Beasts - part pure shining intelligence that is "thoroughly committed to teaching" and part shameless disgusting self promotion.
Like any other beastly thing the letter is surrounded with an aura of rumor and speculation. What makes a great letter, what gets you the job? I get two pieces of advice from faculty about the job letter. First IT HAS TO BE PERFECT. Not perfect as in no spelling or grammar errors but in terms of content one professor told me, "it has to be the most perfect thing you have ever written". Second IT HAS TO BE SEXY. "Sexy" is an ambiguous concept in academia. But I generally translate it into citing a foreign theorist of some kind as key to your work. Its best to think of Sexy as a game with Points, so that you don’t get too caught up in the politics of it all. Extra points are given if the theorist is a male or, at least one of THE TWO honorary "sexy" women (this can be either Gayatri Spivak or Judith Butler). Next, the theorist should be from a sexy place, usually not North America, but France, Italy or Germany. Number one here, of course is France. Other sexy places include: Africa and India - especially those places that are post-colonies of Europe and as always especially France. BUT not Latin America, or other parts of Asia. These are NOT SEXY!! Beware. For example, you don’t get any points for theorists from Ecuador, say, or China. And, of course never forget the mantra - "no women other than THE TWO" - Butler or Spivak - and the game is on.
I think that if I can remember all of this I will do fine.
dc
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| Sunday, August 29th, 2004
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11:14 pm - Dancing fiber cat
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| Friday, August 27th, 2004
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3:45 pm - What we talk about when we talk about ostriches
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Just a quickie today:
Please buy yourself a nice 'jews kick ass' t-shirt.
In other news: I hear tell that Terminator X owns an ostrich farm in North Carolina. True, or rural myth?
Discuss amongst yerselves.
dc
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| Thursday, August 26th, 2004
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3:39 pm - Rock-n-Roll Satanic Ayn Rand Ipods
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Well the mystery of an earlier post has been solved by none other than "Maria" (yea, sure, thats her REAL name) that "burning parties" are indeed nothing more sinister than a few kids drinking beer and swapping illegal mp3s. And here I thought my little sister was in some kind of RocknRoll Satanic Ayn Rand cult. I guess I owe my sis an apology, though I am still not convinced there is something cult-ish going on at that "university" of hers. I mean, what kind of "university" allows their incoming freshman to take classes without the aid of Free Apple IPods??
[Confidential to Duke - Next time perhaps the $500,000 you spent on undergraduate IPods might go towards the high fees you charge your advanced grad students? You know, those are the ones who cant afford health care and are reduced to boiling thier shoes in order to make soup. If you think that is too many people to cover, how about only to the HOTTT advanced grad students? Just a thought.]
Indulge me a moment longer; I just cant seem to get the "cult" thing off my mind today. As you may be aware about half of the population of this country describes themselves as "born again" Christians while across the world Evangelical sects are growing. Now I am noticing that the Evangelical Left Behind book series is sprouting a parallel academic industry on Apolcalypticism. As the End of the World becomes the subject of more and more summer blockbusters, bestsellers and academic careers, has it now become the new hipster thing to be a Believer? And, if so, how long until being reborn becomes the latest celeb fashion faux pas, like for example, Madonna's kabbalah or those trucker caps?
In an era of insecurity, is the Apocalypse the new black?
Please discuss amongst yourselves,
dc
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| Monday, August 23rd, 2004
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7:41 pm - Burning Parties???
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Yea, I survived family visit nightmare no 101. Thank you to my lil sis http://www.livejournal.com/users/mmmm_pie/ who helped me by administering strip-mall-sushi at the appropriate time.
Having just read my much younger sis's live journal, Im a little anxious. She says she is going to a "burning party". Does anyone know what a "burning party" is? Is that what the kids are doing these days? Or is this some kind of "radical" behavior? Should I be worried about this? What about her Ayn Rand fetish that even a full year of undergraduate liberal arts education has yet to quell?
dc
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| Tuesday, August 17th, 2004
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12:05 pm - Gnawing issues
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Today I am blown away that I survived another family dinner, now this makes two in a row! Im going to see the Gramps today, which means I have to drive around the scary scary DC beltway. I love the Gramps, but I'd much rather be in the rat basement than on the beltway on a weekday.... brrrr. Evil road rage lawyers with shotguns...
Im very pleased to be linked to www.rebecky.com, the most fabulous designer this side of Calvin Klein. Rebecky doesnt design jeans like Calvin, she does books and art (for now), but I bet she COULD design jeans if she wanted too. My sister says that jeans should have low pockets because that makes your butt look higher, btw, if there are any inspired jeans folks out there. Yesterday I tried on some pants using this pocket placement theory and by God it did seem to work.
The amazing thing about Rebecky is her very funny entertaining blog which my little livejournal can only bow down to in humble reverence. I especially like it that she had a link to a Quechua website, which I followed and found that the author also produces plays performed by Quechua speaking robots. Check out:
www.ullanta.com/ullanta/
I just cant imagine that these little robots can act their hearts out like the producer says, but you should be the judge.
In other news why havent any of my thousands of readers thought to tell me that I spelled "gnawed" wrong in several posts?
duuude.
dc
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| Monday, August 16th, 2004
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4:23 pm - The 'Burbs
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The many thousands of readers of this blog can now exhale because my fearless sidekick Chastity Bono (the cat, not the rock star) is, like, totally on top of the rat issue. She doesnt chase them yet, but she has taken to watching the knawed hole in the basement wall like it was HBO. I believe that Chastity has supernatural powers and that just by looking at the hole with her beady kitty eyes she will force the rats into submission.
Either with her stare or her stinky tuna breath.
Speaking of which, Im visiting my family now in the suburbs of DC where you get one free SUV with every happy meal! Tonight my main goal is to get my dad to watch Roger and Me. If I could only save his libertarian union-hating soul before its too late...
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| Thursday, August 12th, 2004
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12:06 pm - How we do things in Rat Country
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I was cosily settled in at the computer in my basement when I looked out my window and saw a big rat ambling across the backyard. I say "ambling" because he did really seem to be out for a leisurely stroll, not in any hurry or "scurry" as rats are commonly seen to do along city street curbs. No, this rat was taking its own sweet time, because he and his little buddies know I cant do a damn thing about it. Yes, the basement windows are large, from floor to ceiling, allowing me a spectacular view of what can only be called Rat Country.
Rat Country earned its name due to the fabulous city of Durham, North Carolina (motto: "Durham -A Great Place to Live!"), whose storm pipe goes from the interior of downtown through my backyard and towards some dump area. According to my ancient neighbor Jo - who informs me of the goings on around town when he is not telling em about his gun collection - he has "fought the city" for ever about the storm pipe which broke five years ago on the side of my back yard. The rats come from downtown through the pipe and grab a bite out of our garbage cans, then they do their ratty things in the back yard, which they have the run of, then go back to the drain, or check out the basement windows. This happens all with impunity as the city of Durham, a great place to live, has yet to respond to Jo's petitions.
(You may at this time be wondering do I have a cat and I do, but what she does with the rats is the same as the squirrels. She looks at em with distaste, as if they were trying to be cats but not cool enough, emits a burpy mew, and then roll over on her side to get the summer breeze on her belly).
In any case I was considering trying to get along with the little critters, perhaps domesticate them as they seem so able to adapt to the pleasures of the backyard at least. The internet holds many informative articles on rat domestication, including such articles as, "Is a rat right for you?" and "When you are not a cat person or a dog person" (see http://mutantspud.com/frc/info_pages/interacting/introducing.html for some pointers). I was thinking about this when I discovered the hole - about the level of my shin and size of a coffee mug - in the drywall of the basment wall. It was completely knawed as if by little ratty teeth.
To be continued... dc
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| Wednesday, August 11th, 2004
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1:19 pm - Anthem to the Third Cosmopolitan
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Thank you everyone who came out to drink to my spinsterhood last night! I had a blast! I especially appreciate that everyone loved the medley of Abba covers I performed sometime around the third Cosmopolitan....
Speaking of which, I got slammed by some Dutch dude on Big Whicker's blog (note to self: BWV owes me a beer). In fact, I think that the spam was politically motivated, because he directly attacked mah "American" English - How un-American! This is obviously something that the homies at the Department of Homeland Security should look into toot sweet. I am glad that so many of them read this blog - I feel much safer now.
On another note (sorry forgot my ritalin today) please check out this no-sweatshop website:
www.nosweatapparel.com
ciao bella, dc
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| Tuesday, August 10th, 2004
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1:26 pm - Happy birthday to Me
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Im 35 today! Things to count on: my mother will forget to phone. Grandma wont forget to phone but she may call me by the wrong name.
The government or some-such says that a woman over the age of 35 has a better chance of becoming president than of getting married and reproducing! Thats it for me then, since I lost the Democratic nomination and havent yet fulfilled my 2.5 reproductive quota for da Man, I guess Im officially a spinster.
(Thats *spinster*, not sphincter. Jeesh.)
Now that I know for sure I wont be having kiddies or a hubby I can start selling all the expensive crapola in my trusseau on ebay. I told my paw that Bridewealth was an old fashioned idea even back home in Papua New Guinea, but he wouldnt budge. Now I wonder who is going to buy all the monogrammed sheets and mother of pearl desk sets?
Tonight in celebration of my new electoral campaign Im going to do a handstand in yoga class at 8 and then get wasted at 10pm. Townies, please join me at Joe and Jos (or tomorrow too, as I guess Im going to be there agin then).
Things I am thinking now as I contemplate my doomed spinsterhood: I wonder if I blew it with that nice Peruvian boy who wrote me on messanger? Surely I will be musing over the ghostly internet paths not taken tonight as I stare into my cosmo.... Sigh.
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| Monday, August 9th, 2004
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2:19 pm - Unsexy Andean Messaging
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I just learned how to do messanger (yes, im a little slow) and the first message I get is some guy in Peru. I was just living in Peru doing research in the Andes, so I'm thinking maybe I know this guy. He said he was a miner and knew me from Cobriza, a town near my research site. Lord knows who he was, I did give my card to various folks at the mine at the bottom of the valley where the villages are.
So Palestino Sulca Macca writes me asking whats up. Course I dont know who this guy is so I ask him something in Quechua to try to narrow it down. (Quechua is the 'language of the incas' - nuf said). And then I get responses in Quechua, which blows me away. Here i am in some cafe in North Carolina getting these messages in Quechua. Suddenly im getting that giddy dizzy internet world-village feeling. Im thinking, maybe this is some guy from one of the villages down there? What are the odds? The whole area is pretty remote, but the mining company which overshadows the towns is owned by a rich US company who has satellite internet and cable, all in the middle of this mountain chain in the middle of nowhere. Lots of the villagers and miners down there dont know how to write even, so accessing the internet is amazing.
So I continue writing him and then I start getting these stupid hearts and stuff everywhere in the message, you know how messanger allows you to put those things in the text. Next he is calling me "nena" - baby - and next thing I know I get hamusaq simiki - which literally means 'im going to come in your mouth".
Needless to say this is a phrase I never knew in quechua, I never knew it could be expressed in quechua, and I was pissed off. Man, is this what happens on messanger, is this what i can expect? Not the boundless communication that equalizes the world, but friggin machismo taken to a whole new level?
I wish i could say I took the high road but I told him off. Ladies, if Palestino ever comes texting you, let this be a warning. In fact, here is a little something you can paste into messanger if he ever bothers you: "oye chapla siki ama fastidiaychu, loqlo runtu!" and dont forget to tell him i said hi.
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| Sunday, August 1st, 2004
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1:54 pm - The Village
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I saw The Village last night. It was scary - enough so that I missed some parts of it because i was peering through my hands. But I went in knowing the ending of the film - dont worry im not going to spoil it - because I read some reviews on the internet. Oh, actually I went looking for spoilers about it on the internet because I thought I wasnt going to see it. OK - I know that sounds dumb. But, I figured that if can still read Jackson's The Lottery even though I know they are all going to stone the couple at the end, I can do the same with the Village.
The dollycake review is: Yep, I liked it. It looked beautiful and the directing and actors were excellent. I was surprised because the reviews were pretty bad. As the reviews say, it has a dumb ending that doesnt do justice to the characters and setting, a deus ex machina as we liked to say in high school english. And it was scary, but iit wasnt SCARY scary like the 6th Sense. That one actually made me want to pee my pants (when you see the people hanging in the elementary school?! yikes). My biggest worry was that I was going to get too scared to go jogging in the forest after seeing the film. In the story, the forest is inhabited by creatures called "those whose name we do not mention", and last time I saw some movie with similar creatures (blair witch project) I couldnt sleep or get near to a forest for three days. My forest fear index is relatively low right now just a day after The Village, which means that it aint as freaky as I imagined from the trailer.
In other news - after getting very used to my premium cable that my housemate and I split we have decided to cancel it. Thats right, NO MORE HBO for me! This is so sad. I am especially going to have a hard time without HBO on Demand's Curb and Six feet Under. Sigh. We are going to try to wean ourselves off of it with Netflix. The idea is that it will be like a Methadone clinic. Im not sure if it can be done, but it MUST be done. Our bill has now gone up to $160!
OK got to go thrifting!
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| Saturday, July 31st, 2004
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7:31 pm - Im eating carolina BBQ peanuts
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My godless commie friend Big Whicker Ventriloquist told me about this site so its his fault if I write stuff here instead of on my dissertation.
I just drank a ton of cafe coffee so am feeling a little like surfing. Chastity (my cat) says you should check out this website:
www.mycathatesyou.com
Until next bout of procrastination,
dc
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