purely conjectural

Wednesday, April 4, 2007



Ah, the start of a new blog. I tried a resurgence of self-examination over at Myspace, but no use; while I thought that I'd enjoy writing for the people I hate (the only reason I keep a myspace, you know), it turns out it's pretty stifling. Not as stifling as writing for people you do know, though, because those mothers expect you to write all the time, and prettily, about events which they've observed.

So, for now, it's you and me, kid. And anyone else who stumbles upon this. This place doesn't seem overly concerned with sociability though, so for awhile it'll be me speaking to the echoes of myself.

The power supply in my PC blew, and I just had to spend 27 begrudging dollars on a new one. Since the birthday has rolled around, I have had delightfully more than I thought I would, but still, St. Joseph's collection of terrible vintage clothes is calling me and I'm quite cross that at least 27 useless items of clothing are now unattainable. Sonuvabitch.

I should be writing a one-page book review for women's history, due approximately a day and a half ago, but I think the thesis writing has made me unable to keep thinking, thinking, thinking all the time. I went to Something Brewing with Linda, hoping the scenery would change productivity, but mainly I just chatted with Justin about his life. Piss and vinegar. It seems like everywhere I go, no matter what I surround myself with, I feel this terrible malaise; at home I feel uncomfortable, like a guest, and here I feel unproductive and generally moody and prone to eating too many Cadbury Eggs.

I am getting married, blog, on July 21st. And then heading to graduate school, most likely choosing Utah or Kansas but desperately wanting to go to the University of Chicago, where I was completely out-of-the-blue accepted and where my fiancee was not. He has no problem talking about Utah and Kansas, which will keep me out of my dream school, gaily; why, then, do I feel so guilty talking about Chicago when it will keep him out of his? He talks about being happy, and established; at least he had the chance to establish himself without me inserting my interests into the equation.

I am not resentful that he is keeping me from going to Chicago, at all. I think that this malaise, in fact, stems from him not being here. But you'd think that he would show a little sorrow, or some sympathy at least, about me not going there. He says that he would automatically choose wherever I went, because he'd only be happy with me, but I don't see me making any demands on where he can go to school, so of course he has the luxury of the decision being made up for him.

I know I would be poor in Chicago but, quite frankly, it would be worth it. It's someplace I could reinvent myself. I'd probably feel the same way about my friends that I have felt in the countless other places I've lived--a little bit on the fringe--but all the music that would be there, and all the cool books, and the atmosphere, and oh God most of all the opportunity.

I feel like Nick, maybe a little unfairly, prioritizes his needs first. He tells me all the time that he wants to teach at a teaching university, no wait, a research university, no wait, a teaching university, but I've yet to hear him ask me what I want.

I'm not asking for him to completely sacrifice his future for me. He is only on the waiting list at NIU, and it's a highly competitive school, and I get the feeling that he genuinely believes he won't get in. That's fine if he doesn't. Then we will take the best we can get and run with it. But it seems that he can't muster any sort of optimism for my sake, and all I've heard about is him talk about what he, he, he will do. Is it because I'm a woman? Because he went to grad school a year earlier than me? Or does he not see my future in the same light as his. He says he's liberal, but when it boils down to me having children, for instance, does he just want me to stay at home, being intelligent and having fun, but taking a back seat to his career?

God, I hadn't expected all this to come out. I didn't even know that I was feeling so shafted. But I am itching to be an adult, and start a new life, and move out of the dorms and out of my parents' and go to someplace where I am in charge of the dishwasher, goddamnit, and I already feel like my choices are being considered secondary.

Speaking of things that I can purportedly control, I ate lasagna and french fries at lunch today, and cereal for dinner. So much for low freaking carb. Generally I don't let myself eat a meal if I weigh more than I want to--yeah, I know it's unhealthy, shut it--and then when I weigh a little less I go crazy. It's so frustrating. Can't I just control myself and eat a salad, or some hamburger? What is it about bread that's so ridiculously delicious looking?

I could pour lots more out, but I suppose I should just get to work.

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