clearly not learning from Aristotle

When I do work in earnest I am quickly shown how little I work in general, how lazy I am most of the time. If I used my time better, I could be so much more accomplished. I am, as it is, so very far behind. When I do see clearly how undisciplined and lazy I’ve been, I become very disappointed in myself and quite ashamed of myself. When I am not working, although I recognize that I am not working, I do not take a measure of work left undone. When I begin to work again, I remember how quickly (and slowly) I do work, and am able to take better account of just how much work I have not done, just how much more work I have made for myself, just how much longer it will take before I can even begin to catch up.

This is a very ugly habit. It has deleterious effects upon my character. I grow resentful and envious of those who are better disciplined and more accomplished. I grow angrier and angrier with myself. Moreover, I despair. I grow discouraged. Petulant. I become so disappointed in myself that it seems inconceivable to me that I am not a disappointment to everyone I love. How can anyone stand me? I am lazy, careless, weak, cowardly.

It becomes clear that no one but my own self has ever stood in the way of my success. When I am not working, it is easy to point to all the teachers who did not encourage me, even those who declined to offer guidance when asked for it. It is easy to point to the family from which I sometimes feel alienated. It is easy to point out that I meet few people with whom I can discuss philosophy in ways that are simple enough for me to understand without being trite or silly.

When I begin to do work again, I remember (why do I ever let myself forget?) that I never had to be brilliant. Never had to be the smartest person I know. I only ever have to (ever had to) work consistently to the best of my ability and always try to improve. That’s all. I don’t have to move at leaps and bounds. I will never be able to do so. Avoiding work because I cannot do everything at once is so foolish—and I know this, of course. There is not—there never was—any time limit. Had I kept plodding at my own very stupid pace, I would be so much further along than I am now.

And then I think of the ways in which I spend my time, the things with which I fill my head. If I’d spent half of the time I currently spend reading magazines reading texts in the history of ethics, I would be very well read. When I then remember that I reread these magazines, sometimes more than once, I am very ashamed. I could have written at least one conference paper. I could have read books that are much more edifying. I could have lost five pounds. I could have tried a dozen new recipes.

file under "not getting it"

Dear Sir,

Yes. I did give you my phone number last May. You asked for directions to Clark street (what don't you understand about a grid system?) and I gave them. We were both walking to Clark and you started talking to me. You were pleasant enough for a stranger. Fine. Then you suggested that we might hang out sometime. That surprised me and I probably responded something like "uh. maybe. sure." Then you asked for my phone number. I gave it.

You texted that evening or an evening or two later. I don't really remember. I apologized for having given you my phone number. Said I didn't have time for new friends--hardly had time for the friends I already had--and I was seeing someone and I wasn't available to hang out. I think you asked if it was okay if you hung onto my number in case I had time at some later date. I'm pretty sure I said I would not have time at some later date.

I don't remember if you actually texted at some point a few months later at which time I would have responded that I still did not have time. Then you said ok, you'd delete my phone number. At some point you did say you would just delete my phone number.

(keep in mind that we met once, briefly, on the street, strangers)

So why did you text me Sunday evening, after a year and a half, to ask if I remember having met you? "Hey. This is ------. We met a while back. Do you remember?" I believe that the event I remember is the last time I gave out my phone number to a boy. So I believe I am correct in thinking the text message I received Sunday is from that boy I met a year and a half ago. What don't you understand? I am not available. I will never be available.

I didn't respond. If you text again, ------, I will say "No. You must have the wrong number."

"What's FGM?"

I've only had two sips of coffee but I'm wide awake and all abuzz. I wish it were the coffee. Shock, anger, fear, frustration and horror produce a more potent rush of adrenaline than caffeine.

I have attended a few training sessions to refresh my knowledge before doing advocacy work again. The sessions have a large number of attendees - probably at least 40 people. A social worker came in to give a brief presentation that introduced the special concerns that immigrant survivors of sexual violence face and briefly described the legal/social remedies created to help survivors get help and remain in the country: VAWA, U-Visas and T-Visas. The social worker displayed a list of the crimes that constitute VAWA violations. One of these was FGM. As if on cue, more than half the room asked: "What's FGM?" I was surprised. I don't think of myself as terribly aware of, well, the world, generally. "What's FGM?!"

What surprises me too is the misinformation that courses through the room. A D&E is not a "medical" abortion. The Sexual Assault Survivor Emergency Treatment Act (SASETA) does not cover abortion costs. At all. Ever. A survivor may not have an abortion performed in the emergency room. Emergency contraception will not hurt a fetus.

It will never be appropriate to stare in surprise or disgust at evidence of physical harm or at symptoms of STIs.

It will never be helpful to give incorrect information. If you are unsure whether a person will be able to take 8 or up to 12 weeks unpaid leave from work, then do not pull a number from your head and hope you are right. If you don't know when the first trimester ends, don't just guess at some timeline (1/3 of 40 weeks, folks). If you don't know the difference between making a police report and pressing charges, don't talk yourself into knots. If you don't know the difference between an order of protection, a civil no contact order or a restraining order, then don't offer them up specifically.

Giving misinformation hurts others. But what about when you don't even know you have or are giving incorrect information? Why is this not addressed explicitly in training? Giving bad information confuses and re-victimizes survivors. But I have not heard a single staff worker say anything about the harm false "facts" can do.

Abstract writing makes my life sooooooo hard

I might start posting drafts on this blog just to
a) prove that I am working on it
b) beg feedback in a friendly place
c) record drafts so I can see that I am actually making progress.

To those who doesn't want to slog through 500 word chunks of clunky, incomprehensible prose, come back in a month. If I'm not done by then, I'll be uploading revisions of my résumé and looking for a big-girl job.

It is a truth universally acknowledged

that a single woman in possession of a good dissertation topic must be in want of a quotation.

Wrote my 1000 words on Tuesday. Hoping for about 1000 more today. The goal is a full draft by the end of the month. There are a few places in my current draft where additions and revisions will be relatively easy, and I plan to work on those first. There are others where revisions and additions will be more like pulling teeth.

There is a quote I am missing and I don't even know how to go about finding it. I'm pretty sure I read it this semester which should narrow down the pool of possible sources, but even with that limitation, I cannot find it. Something about the ethical value of a text - any text - not residing within the text itself but being a product of the interaction with the text.

I spent all yesterday evening looking for this quote and now I've spent all morning doing the same. This is very very frustrating. I am stopping now so that I can write, but will be haunted by these missing words.

With a smile....

Dear [insert name here]

Every time you make dirty insinuations about how dirty I am; every time you let me know that you might fantasize about me; every time you indicate that you might masturbate while thinking about me; whenever you let me know that I only have to call you ...; whenever you ask me if I like that, do I like that?; whenever you lewdly approve of my supposed desire for violence -

I am disgusted.

I am disgusted because I can't tell you to go f**k yourself in as serious a manner as I mean; I am disgusted because I feel pressured to play along; I am disgusted because, in order to keep peace, I feel compelled to pretend that what you say is witty, clever, subversive, edgy, hot.

No, I don't want to sleep with you. No, I don't think this "banter" is hot. No, I will never call you. No, I don't like being an object for your fantasy. No, I don't want to think of you being rough with me. No, I do not dream of you, in any way. No. No, No, No, No, NO.

But I also don't want to deal with coldness, silent aggression, sabotage.

Dear Chicago,

Dear Owners of Property,

Please salt your sidewalks *promptly* after snow/sleet/freezing rain. Some of us use the sidewalks for our primary mode of transportation and trying to walk on ice is sufficient to ruin our days. Think of us.

Dear Drivers of Cars and Other Motor Vehicles,

Please look both ways before turning or before proceeding after a stop sign. There are pedestrians on your right you simply did not see because you were so busy making sure there were no cars coming from your left. I have a bright red jacket and a bright orange one. This is on purpose. But still, you don't see me. Please look! Otherwise you will be repaying my student loans.

love,

kristy

how do i love this? no seriously. someone tell me.

it makes me angrier than i can express when otherwise brilliant people name an anti-anti-abortion position "pro-abortion".

NO ONE IS PRO-ABORTION, PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

that is sick. and really offensive when people suggest it. like we're picketing maternity wards and trying to convince people to have abortions.

no. we want abortion to remain legal (better, to have it decriminalized) to PROTECT WOMEN'S HEALTH. because that's a good thing.

and when you call it "pro-abortion" and talk about its immorality, don't then say to me, "Oh! but I don't mean you. I don't mean to judge you for having had one."

fuck you. you just did.

is it so wrong to not want to lots of babies while i'm doing my doctoral work???

contraception is ridiculously stressful.

[and for everyone who wants to tell me to just 'get over it' and 'stop bitching' and 'complaining is stupid' and 'just accept the compromise already', please don't. i get it. it's just still frustrating]

so the combination pill is out:
- associated with cervical dysplasia, which is a condition of which I am trying to be rid
- personally associated with feeling crazy, a feeling i would like to avoid

the mini-pill (progesterone only) is out:
- associated with increased depression. this seems like something to avoid while i write my dissertation
- associated with increased frequency of developing ovarian cysts, a condition to which i am already prone

the iud seems unreasonable:
- mirena = progesterone. see mini-pill
- copper - heavier bleeding, heavier cramps
- both - possibility for puncturing my uterus. ouch.

the male condom:
- possible. not fun. i don't like how they feel
- increased yeast infections on my end (though this is workable)

the diaphragm:
- possible. need to be refit. mine may be too big. uncomfortable to keep in for 6 hours
- less effective than hormonal contraceptives

not under consideration:
- cervical cap, female condom, sponge. no.

so it seems that no matter what i do, i have to be ok with a higher failure rate, with making contraception part of 'sex', with accepting a certain level of stress every month hoping to get my lady time.

sigh

so hungry

but i can't seem to eat anything. all food is unappetizing. very frustrating.

First of all -

people are assholes.

correct me if i am wrong, but i have found nothing disrespectful or impolite about gently removing dry clothes from a dryer when you need to use it. you take the dry clothes out of the dryer, place them on top of the dryer and then you use the dryer for your own wet, freshly laundered clothes. yes?

i just went down to check my laundry after having done just this and found the dryer turned *off* and a typed sign on the dryer saying "quit taking other people's clothes out of the dryer". my clothes were still wet because the asshole stopped my drying cycle. i should not be as angry as i am but i am sort of furious.

so i left a note back. i'm sure it will do nothing. i won't be surprised if the dryer is turned off again if they see the note soon. all i said was that i had done nothing disrespectful and that if the note-writer had a problem with people touching things in public space then they should remove their clothing promptly. and to quit cheating folks out of their laundry money (i.e., the $1 that i lost because i had to restart the drying cycle).

now i will have to calm down and refocus before i write the post i planned to write today, the one about how much love there is in the world and how grateful i am for it and how much i want to emulate my loving, amazing friends