possibly the best dream ever

Jesus (who was kind of small and scrawny but only sometimes) had a sidekick named Watson.

Why have I never thought of this before?

Don't steal my idea, people. Way not cool. Supersleuth Jesus and Supersidekick Watson will hunt you down. With Chuck Norris. Who is probably watching you right now.

Think of it: The Casebook of Jesus and Watson.

1. The Curious Case of the Fishes and Loaves

"But, Jesus, how did you do it?"

"Elementary, Watson. I merely rearranged the laws of matter and physics to create more matter out of some matter. You know my methods."

"When you explain it that way, Jesus, it all seems so simple, and yet I am sure I couldn't do it."

But I'm still re-reading it.

On the one hand, Jane Eyre is a super role-model, and I couldn't properly appreciate that until just now. I didn't have the appropriate Romantic, post-Enlightenment, modern, feminist, ontological, or social tools to appreciate (and perhaps even question) Jane's insistence upon sexless, genderless justice, egalitarianism and equity, and authenticity to self.

(I also didn't see how completely unsubtle Charlotte Bronte was in her pictures of the adult Eliza and Georgiana Reed. Wow.)

On the other hand, Mr. Rochester, for all his romantic meltingness, is so obviously a projection of female desire, that the relationship between Jane and Edward is not one of equality, of two spirits meeting above and beyond the mediators of flesh and of morality. Instead, we get an enviably individual, authentic Jane and an Mr. Rochester who is the imagined but not real ideal lover for her.

I need a better Jane Eyre--the book, not the character. Keep Jane as is and make Jane more believable.

the philosophotarian is growing her hair

For most of my life, my hair-styling efforts have been aimed at preventing people from seeing what my hair actually looks like.

My hair is very fine, rather thin, and, when clean but un-styled, hangs limply from my head. It's not terribly flattering.

For years I have kept my hair very short. When it is very short, I can make it look a lot thicker than it is with little effort: a little thickening goo, a blow dryer, a flat-iron, some texturizing paste, and about fifteen minutes and I'm done.

When I was very small and suffered from severe acne, my parents would take me to an aunt's house and we would perm my hair to dry it out and give it some body. (It was the 80s. That should explain a lot.) When I got a little older and my skin had cleared up, I still curled and teased and sprayed it to create the illusion of more hair.

I've not stopped putting the goo in my hair. I still blow-dry it, run the flat-iron through it, and add a little paste for texture. But my hair is lying closer to my head than it has in years. This makes me nervous.

I feel more naked with smaller hair than I do with no clothes on. I feel exposed, as though, in some way, I am revealing my limitedness. I am only so much and no more.

I feel less attractive but slightly more honest. I've also been wearing more (and brighter) lipstick. Make of that what you will.

I've joked for years and to many people that I am terrified of anything having anything to do with commitment. Of course I commit to things all the time. Sometimes I commit to silly things, or to things that require little to no thought. Sometimes I commit to things without realizing it (or without realizing it right away, or without having made a prior and conscious choice). It isn't commitment (like having to commit to my dissertation and the fact that I chose to get a Ph.D. in philosophy) that bothers me, actually. What terrifies me is disclosure. Exposure. Revelation. Being identified as a particular something or someone. Committing to myself, to being a self. That makes me extremely uncomfortable.

I wouldn't say I hide. Not exactly. I don't usually mind sharing all kinds of things about myself. I quite enjoy giving my opinion and pronouncing judgments, when I have them. Doling myself out--on purpose, in ways I can see and measure and evaluate--is not a problem. Being identified or identifiable in ways I can't see as well, don't know, cannot evaluate provides a seemingly endless source of anxiety.

I've preferred being a potential someone to becoming a particular person. Found it safer anyway.

I'm sure there are a lot of things I could suggest as catalysts for the growing conviction that there is no real safety in potentiality. That the safety I sought there was only ever illusory. I won't try to determine precisely why or how it is that just now I have felt burdened by the need to become something particular.

My hair is growing. I'm not sure it's the only thing that is changing or has been changing. But I can see it, keep my eye on it, and that's a bit of a comfort.

not the post I promised. Still a new post, though

There was a fire today just down the street, just a block from my place, in a building I pass on my way to work. When I got outside this morning, I could hear shouting. After a few minutes, I realized someone was shouting for help. I didn’t think much of it right away: there is often a lot of shouting in my neighborhood. But the shouting didn’t stop, so I started looking for the source. I don’t know which I saw first, the smoke or the two men leaning out of an open window shouting for help.

Three people were on the phone to 911 as I passed, so I continued on to work. By the time I was a block past the fire, you could see the smoke blocks away. One fire engine screamed past me on its way to the building. For the next twenty minutes or so, I kept hearing more and more sirens.

I was tingling with nerves by the time I got to the office. My boss reminded me that I could check the breaking news on the Tribune page. I did, and got the news as it arrived. At least eleven hurt. At least two jumped. No one seems to have died.

I was a little surprised at how upset I was. I can’t imagine how I would react if I were trapped in a burning building. Would I shout for help? Would I be as calm as one of the men in the building seemed to have been? Would I try to save anything other than my flash drive? Would I jump? I can’t imagine jumping. Jumping seems like death, even if it’s not that high.

When I imagined myself in the same situation as those trapped men, I couldn't keep from thinking that their most pressing thought, behind the cries for help, must have been, “I might die today. In minutes. Soon. Today.” We all know that any day could be our dying day; something like a fire a few doors down makes that thought a bit less abstract than it usually is.

I felt terribly weak for leaving, for walking away while those men shouted and shouted and shouted. There was nothing I could do. Three people were on the phone calling 911. I would have been in the way. And still. Perhaps I could have talked to them until the engines arrived. Encouraged them to keep from panicking. Assured them that engines and ambulances were on their way and that they would be rescued. I could have done that. I didn’t do that. I am ashamed.

trivia

things that I have no good reason for disliking but dislike anyway:

• water anywhere near my eyes
• when a wet shower curtain touches my body
• cheerios
• the word 'armpit'
• cremini mushrooms
• feet, generally speaking
• the feeling of two fingers rubbing together, as when one tries to snap
• eyelids
• plain green tea
• exposing my knees
• black shoes
• toothbrushes
• exercising
• making phone calls
• yellow gold
• sardines
• blue ink
• couscous
• white rice
• parties

new post in the works

For now:

thou shalt not place periods after subtitles

thou shalt not type subheadings in UPPER CASE LETTERS

thou shalt not create new heading hierarchies for each chapter

thou shalt not capitalize the word following a colon in a sentence

thou shalt not type table titles in _italics_

thou shalt not neglect to indent run-over lines in the TOC

thou shalt not use more than one typeface in your dissertation

thou shalt not place commas or periods outside quotation marks

thou shalt not use quotation marks for epigraphs or block quotes

thou shalt not use hyphens in place of an em dash

thou shalt not make an en dash do the work of an em dash

thou shalt not neglect the left parenthesis in a run-in list

Check out my new idea!

It's so new and shiny and pretty and new, you'll be so impressed. Ready? Delayed Gratification. Yessss!

What does this lovely new (did I mention how new this idea is?) idea mean? Ah, sweet readers, it means that one delays the acquisition of some new thing until one has (a) decided it is really necessary/perfect/awesome/the right new thing, (b) determined that she can afford it, and (c) put into a ranked list of other necessary, perfect, awesome, right new things to see which is the one (one! not two!) that should be gotten now--assuming any can be gotten.

whew!

It turns out that a good deal of the pleasure of these nparnts (necessary perfect awesome right new things) comes before they have been acquired. In order (I think. Revision is for other people):

1. identification of a need
I need an airtight canister for my coffee beans! and new underwear! and a bright yellow, otherwise plain, giant yellow (must be yellow!) coffee mug

2. plotting the importance of the need
It is more important to have a canister than a mug. I have mugs. I do not have a canister. Both the mug and the canister are more important than underwear. Except for when I'm exercising, at which time, underwear may be the Most Important Thing Ever.

3. determining where to acquire the thing that will meet the need
Brick and mortar store? Amazon? Etsy? eBay? Small online retailer? Thrift store?
What will be the environmental impact of meeting this need? Who will be helped or hurt if/when I meet this need? How can I maximize the benefits of meeting this need and minimize the harms?

4. replot importance of need; add more needs
small insulated reusable handmade lunch sack! hair goo! homemade hair conditioner! shirts for spring! big yellow mug! glasses!

(repeat all steps until purchasing is possible)

I still haven't gotten to the point where I am allowed to purchase any of these things (hello, March!). I don't want to spend in one day (March 1) the equivalent of a whole month's worth of spending: part of the goal of the Month of Xtreme Thr!ft is to reduce my impulse purchases (with a larger goal of reevaluating what I consider necessary) and to trim my overall budget.

I still haven't decided how I will rank all of the things on this month's list of "things I think I need to buy or have." I have decided that in April or May, I'll do a thrift project wherein I don't buy any things. I'll buy food and toothpaste; I'll buy tickets to plays if there are any I really want to see. But no things.