I Write To Understand. I Write To Stop Time
Inspired by another blog post that appeared in my reader, (and PSA, you should get tested to see if you’re a feminist – they gave us a sure-fire way to determine that HERE.), I was reminded of a meme that helps us understand Feminism and it’s sister, Feminazi:
Except it isn’t. At all.
I don’t remember exactly what the inspiration was, but since last night, I’ve been mulling over a new idea about news. Like, The News. Tom Brokaw and the New York Times. (I know; exciting, right? See why I had to tell you about it?)
I briefly heard someone talk about today’s news stories as something they go to for entertainment, rather than true information. Bread and circuses to keep us entertained. The implication was that current news stories are hyperbolic, a little bit made-up and sensational. As I type these words, I suppose in some sense, this is true, but… really?
Yesterday’s daily prompt asks me think about a hero I had at five years old. There isn’t much I can remember from that year, and I even looked up past news headlines to see if that would job any memories. No joy. So I tried to reflect on someone I looked up to, which is my understanding of a hero.
My supervisor, I mean, my direct just-above-me supervisor, has many positive qualities. In many ways, he has been a breath of fresh air. He gave me more direction and positive feedback than any of his predecessors.
However.
Like all writers, and probably more than most, I appreciate as much help with my craft as possible, help to make it something I could admire. With this in mind, I have chosen to take part in the Zero to Hero challenge and am going to start my introducing myself: Hi. I’m Sarah.
At the end of every year, different people do different “Best ofs.” I don’t always agree with them, until this year, I realized I could do my own, with my own things that are the best. 🙂
Instances of detail – cool challenge. This is, maybe, a week or two late in publication, and I should have written three, not two, but I don’t want to let either of those things stop me from publishing. I like these. What do you think of them?
What You Believe About Homosexuality Doesn\’t Matter.
This cuts right to the heart of this debate – opinions and beliefs, while they are valuable and have a place in discourse – are irrelevant here. The facts are that people dying. Fact.
Yesterday was one of those days I love and hate my work. We had a Christmas party for the clients, and it went really well – it was a lot of fun, and I was seeing some things I’m going to miss when I’m gone. For example, the clients were in groups playing Pictionary and one of them was trying to draw “Angels we Have Heard on High.” One of the guys said, totally serious: “Angels got high.” I was rolling with laughter, and it’s something I’m going to miss when I’m gone from here.
Then, we served lunch to anyone in the community, like we always do, and I got harassed by one of the guys. He took something I said to my boss and twisting it around sexually. I was embarrassed and angry and I put him out for the day. Things got better and I was walking to get some coffee before an afternoon meeting, and there was this guy in front of me…
I’ve been silent for the past several weeks, not trying to write or respond to prompts like I usually have. On Sunday night, I got my last three PhD applications in. I did eight in all, and am still considering applying to Oxford or the London School of Economics.
I’ve been working on this for several months, although I wish I had gone longer. Crash studying for the GREs and figuring out how to describe my research interests, seeking out scholars, trying to figure out what I want to do. Making sure all the scores and transcripts and references are sent in the particular format the school requires. And writing. Writing. Writing. Making my personal statement sing, or at least warble, enough that they will want to hear more. Then suddenly, with a “send” to UC-Santa Cruz…
Continue reading “What is “mojo,” and why do I want it back?”
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 