Wednesday, June 16, 2010

stuff i'm like totally into right now

Well, okay. It's been two weeks since I announced that I would deliver a blog post every week of this summer, meaning I've already broken my promise. Lame. I went to Portland for a week and I thought I'd post there, but I was too busy, like, hanging out in Portland, getting tattoos, piercing various parts of my face, and resuscitating my early 90s wardrobe...well, no. Fine. I didn't do any of those things. I did, however, go to Portland, where I did Portland-y things like run and hike in Forest Park, go to Powell's bookstore about a zillion times (that place is the MOTHERSHIP), ride lots of public transportation, eat at a different microbrewery every night, and in general soak up the joy of being in a city set in a location of magnificent natural beauty and run by liberals. We never would have been able to afford such a vacation were it solely on our own dime, but Eric had a conference for epidemiologist types going on there, and as soon as I heard that such a conference was occurring, in Portland, in June, I said, bring ME. And it coincided with our ninth anniversary, so that was nice.

So. Anyway. I'm going to make this blog entry into a list of stuff I like and am all into right now. That's all. Because that sounds fun to me. And I warn you that at least half of this list will probably be books. Because I am momentarily free of the professional obligation to read nothing but ethnography and theory and have been rampantly indulging my true passion, which loyal readers know is YA fantasy. And people, I have had some serious finds. Let us begin.

Stuff I'm Like Totally Into Right Now:

1. Sunshine by Robin McKinley. Here's what blows. That atrociously-written, anti-feminist, simultaneously sexually conservative and sexually perverse load of Twilight garbage is floating around out there making crockshits of money while a mindblowingly good vampire book like this one flies completely under the radar. And you know, I hate to make this all about Empowerment and Agency in Female Leads and other such preachy stuff from a Feminist Concerned about the Self-Esteem of Young Girls, but if you are sick of fantasy universes that are all about manly conflicts between males in which girls are helpful sidekicks at best and helpless pawns/victims at worst, please, oh please, read this. Sunshine (and yes, her name really is Sunshine—sort of) is not a Buffy-style heroine in the sense that she does a lot of warrior-type stuff; it's more about her learning to rely on other, more subtle gifts while at the same time having to call on tremendous courage and problem-solving in the face of extreme duress and, you know, evil vampires. And there is nothing cheesy or at all romantic about those vampires, although there is some weirdly sexy and seriously intense chemistry between Sunshine and the main vampire character, who does not look like Angel, Spike, any of the vampires from True Blood, Brad Pitt, Edward “Glitter Boy” Cullen, or any Sexy Pop Culture Vamps of recent history. In fact, his skin is described as “mushroom gray.” HOT.

And for your information, there is no such thing as “vegetarian” vampires. Vampires suck your blood. Deal with it.

Also? Get this. Sunshine is a young, unmarried female character in a young adult fantasy novel...and she has SEX. And? And? She doesn't feel guilty about it, receive horrific cosmic punishment for it, die horribly as a result of it, or embody a man-eating whore archetype! It's amazing! She wants it, she has it, it is regarded, in this fictional universe, as, well, normal! Wow! Try it, authors! You'll be amazed how much there is left to write about when you totally leave aside the need to punish female characters for having sex!

2. The Forest of Hands and Teeth by Carrie Ryan. This is a novel that takes place seven generations after the zombie apocalypse. Yes, you read correctly. The word “zombie” is not used once. It is intensely creepy. It is extremely well-written. It has an amazing girl protagonist. It really forces you to think about how horrible it would be people you loved became the undead, and don't you think that sounds like a valuable moral exercise? I don't know, folks. I really didn't care one way or another about zombies, but then, I had never seen the whole zombie trope, if you will, used this effectively. And in a spare, understated way, there is a lot in there about cultural isolation and control over historical narratives and how the passing of generations transforms history into myth. It's good stuff. There's a sequel I need to read next.

3. Graceling by Kristin Cashore. This book is stunning. Here is the author's website. Read it.

And yet again: Unmarried female protagonist has sex and it is just fine! Also professes a strong desire to remain unmarried, as marriage in this society would greatly circumscribe her freedom! Her decisions are not portrayed as tragic or neurotic! Unbelievable, I say! (There are many, many other things to recommend this novel as well. Again, read it. Just trust me.)

I tell you, I've probably been on about this before, but it's hilarious to me that the fundy Christian crowd got its panties in such a bunch about Harry Potter when the young adult section is in fact packed with any number of books that are way, way, WAY more subversive and just fly conveniently under that particular radar. (That's not a diss on old Harry, by the way. I do still love Harry Potter, but as fantasy novels/series go, others are closer to my heart these days.)

4. Emily the Strange. I know, I know, Emily started out as skateboarder insignia or something and now it's a whole franchise where you can buy everything from hoodies to home décor to express Goth attitude by means of the image of a scowling black-haired girl in a black dress, with cats. Which should probably make me cynical. But the Emily novels, The Lost Days (in which Emily has amnesia) and Stranger and Stranger (in which Emily inadvertently duplicates herself and creates an evil twin) are incredibly clever and hard to put down. Also, I was a scowling dark-haired girl who wore lots of black and loved cats. I was not, alas, a genius mad scientist, unlike Emily, who is. But let's just say we have some style simpatico. Therefore I construct my identity in this consumerist society by doing things like sticking Emily the Strange stickers on my planner.

5. The ocean. We spent one night on the coast last week, in the slightly rinky-dink tourist-y coastal town of Seaside. It was cold and rained for part of the time. It was overcast. The town was nothing special. But we had an inn with an oceanfront view, and the sand was firm enough to go running by the ocean, and it was marvelous. I feel that, given decently comfortable weather, I would be pretty happy sitting on a beach and just watching and listening to the ocean all day. How can anyone help but to feel connected to the ocean, regardless of how landlocked your home may be? We're all descended from marine ancestors. We are residents of planet Earth, a planet of water. I can barely stand to think about what's happening in the Gulf.

6. Getting stronger arms. No, not firearms, silly. I didn't up and join the Tea Party or anything. I'm speaking of my own monkey appendages. When I was a teenager, I was self-conscious because my upper arms were—get this—literally smaller in circumference than my forearms. I have become stronger over the years, and lifted weights or done a few lame push-ups off and on, and when I was doing a lot of vinyasa yoga I was fairly ripped, but during the school year, while I maintained my running schedule, I slacked on the upper body stuff. And I felt it, too. My backpack tired out my shoulders; my upper body ached midway through long runs. Once the summer started I bought myself some heavier dumbbells and got serious. This past week in Portland I carried a messenger bag around all day every day and even ended up running with it at one point, and not once did I feel tired of carrying it. This may seem like nothing to many of you, but I always get muscle pains in my shoulders if I carry bags or purses for too long. It's great to be stronger. Also, though I don't much like to think about it, good for osteoporosis prevention. I have every freaking risk factor in the book for that stupid disease, so it's best I start applying myself now.

7. Arugula pesto. I really should just submit this post to the Stuff White People Like blog already and have done with it. I've already mentioned Portland, a massive bookstore that is still independent, hanging out by bodies of water, microbreweries, running, a fictional character designed specifically for marketing to ironic hipsters, yoga, environmental concern, and the fact that I am a graduate student. All of these things are integral to my racial identity.

Yes, I love arugula pesto. I pick the arugula from my own garden. I eat it with homemade foccacia or whole wheat pasta that I purchased at the natural foods co-op. I freeze it for future use. However, my olive oil is the generic Kroger brand (still extra virgin, of course). Does this make me just slightly less white? Or did my need to assure you that my olive oil is generic and yet extra virgin in fact make me doubly white?

(I have very mixed feelings about that whole blog/book/concept. I suppose that could be a post at some point.)

OK, enough for now. I must put on some outdoor performance clothing, gather some fresh greens for my lunch, which I will eat alongside some leftover hummus. Then I'll take in my recycling (all the while grumbling how my liberal town should have curbside recycling), and perhaps make a stop at the aforementioned natural foods co-op on the way home, as well as perhaps picking up a six-pack of beer which I will justify by telling myself that at least it's a local microbrew, which I will share with my husband, who has two last names. And I hope that you all feel bad for not going outside.

Wednesday, June 02, 2010

I'm back.

A few months ago I was on the phone with my friend Tess, who is married to Animal of Cranial Flatulence. As we were getting ready to hang up, Tess called to Scott/Animal, “Anything you want to tell Steph?”

“Update your fucking blog,” I heard him holler.

I didn't at the time, because I was in the middle of a Hell Semester. Or it would have been a Hell Semester, were it not for the fact that I quite enjoyed most of it. I tell you, people, whatever its flaws, academia is the place for me, and I was probably crazy to ever think otherwise. I had about four years of feeling like absolute crap about my professional capabilities because I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do, where I could realistically seek employment, what to say when people asked me what my job was. Which you know, if you were reading this blog during any of that time. Then I entered a PhD program, started teaching again, started working on research, and suddenly, presto-change-o, I'm a person with professional skills that garner respect. And an insane schedule. Nothing confers self-esteem in this culture like the badge of professional busyness. That, of course, is shallow, but I don't mean to trivialize my sense that I'm at last on a career path that fits me.

I get really excited about the work that I do. I often enjoy teaching. (Anyone who says they always love teaching is probably lying. College teaching involves humiliation, difficult personal interactions, paperwork, and freshman males. I hate much of it, but the rewards are still remarkably tangible.) I loooove my research. I wish I could write more about these things, but I still have the same confidentiality concerns I had a year ago. If I could write a completely honest blog about teaching, it would be the most side-rippingly fucking hilarious thing ever. I could tell you about the time...and the time...and the guy who...and the other guy who...and that paper with the song lyrics...alas. It would really cathartic and fun, but I'm not going to make that mistake.

It's kind of strange to be sitting here at my kitchen table, writing this. Part of why I wasn't really able to keep up the blog during the school year was that I was writing so much already, in every working moment in which I wasn't teaching, planning my teaching, sitting in class, or reading. So in my spare time, insofar as I had any, I just wanted to be with Eric, cook good food, see friends, run, and veg out in front of Netflix. Consequently it's been a long time since I've written anything other than e-mails that doesn't contain words like “ontology” and “discourse.”

It's also been a long time since I've taken out the trash. I'm pretty sure it's my turn to do it. I can smell it right now.

As a partner in housekeeping, I really dropped the ball this year. Eric picked up a lot of my slack, but he also likes to relax after work, so things have built up somewhat. Every time that we have noticed that something is covered in disgusting filth in a way not befitting mature adults, I have defaulted to “once this semester's over, I'll take care of that.” And now Eric is hitting a hell stride at work, so I have resolved to undertake some of these projects on my own. I have been free for over a week now, and have accomplished these domestic tasks:

1. Went through my clothes and stuffed everything I no longer wear into a bag to go to the Goodwill.

2. Rinsed out approximately 200 empty, dirty cat food cans on the basement floor for recycling. Received several really nasty cuts on my right hand in the process.

3. Swept under the upstairs futon/couch. Wow.

Uh...hmm. I really thought I'd done more than that.

OK, here's what I still have to do:

1. Take the clothes to the Goodwill

2. Take the cat food cans to the recycling center

3. Take a lot of other things to the recycling center—like, oh, I don't know, maybe an entire closet's worth of things

4. Go through a shitload of old bills and papers that I currently can't get to because of the recycling

5. Organize the books and papers in my home office, after removing the veil of cat hair covering them

6. Remove veil of cat hair from entire house

7. Paint the bathroom which has remained unpainted since it was remodeled over a year ago

8. Remove forest of weeds and small trees from between the neighbor's deck and ours

9. Figure out what's going on with the upstairs toilet

10. Clean the basement

In addition to these things, I plan to go to Portland for a week, do a weekend workshop on oral history, run a half-marathon, do some archival research for my dissertation, attend a family wedding, hang out a bunch with friends, and read every piece of quality young adult fantasy fiction I can get my hands on. Also, update this blog at least once a week. That's a promise.

I know there are probably only about four or five people reading, but those of you who kept me in your feeds and blogrolls despite my bailing on you for over seven months, and then gently prodded me to take things up again over the summer, thank you, thank you, thank you. It really does mean a lot to me to know I still have loyal readers. And friends. I missed you all.

Stay tuned for news of my cats, my shin splints, and my lousy housekeeping. It's good to be back.