July 16, 2003, 8:58 p.m.
I traveled. I gave a few talks. I edited a
raft of papers. I took pictures of cloudless blue skies over Midwestern
rest stops. I bought three Members Only jackets to give to friends.
I read the entire Wolves Chronicles by Joan Aiken. I was best man at my
brother's wedding. I stood in line the night before to buyHarry Potter and
The Order of the Phoenix. I discovered Fametracker. I
finished the third chapter of my dissertation. I started the
fourth. I edited Mark's presentation for this conference. I saw Whale Rider, Pirates of the Carribean, and
Finding Nemo each twice (thanks to my brother). I bought three or
four summer dresses at a local thrift store for a dollar each.
Here is the latest Punk Planet
column. It's my version of optimism. Enjoy!
April 23, 2003, 11:09 p.m.
I made some guitar pick earrings because I
was avoiding the dissertation. One pink, one red -- I pilfered the hooks
from another neglected pair. I must be channeling my eighth grade
homeroom teacher, who had decorated the classroom in pink and red. All
year. Recruited to assist, I remember stapling red streamers around a
pink noteboard with papers and notices as N., who fancied herself a
pre-teen fashion maven with her sparkling eye shadow and tight blue
jeans, rolled her eyes expressively. "I know it clashes," the
teacher said, defensively, "but I can't stop myself."
I walked out of the house the other day in:
beat-up blue Adidas, striped ankle socks, black leg warmers, a cut-off
denim skirt, red-and-pink striped bra, white tank top, my new earrings
and red Members Only jacket. (I sometimes think it's a bizarre
compulsion.) On Shattuck, a trio of "no wave" girls stared at
me as I walked past them, hostile-like. It rolled off them like small,
hungry waves. Did they covet my jacket? Or am I not worthy
enough to wear it?
The last Punk Planet column I wrote is here. It's sort of filler, really.
The newest one will be formatted soon for the site: Boy Bands Against
the War, break-up songs, and the appropriation of the intimate,
emotional address for a democratic practice.