The number one thing I don't like about having a dog is that my cat doesn't hang out with me as much. Because he likes my cat and wants to play with him and Nikos, generally, does not want. But today, shut up in the bedroom with presentations to write, notes to copy, and grants to prepare, the dog is out in the living room watching football with the boys. And my cat? He is stretched out on the bed right next to me.

The number two thing I don't like about my dog is that he does not know how to lie down on command. It clearly our fault (we don't take the necessary time to train him) but he is also far more obstinate than my cat ever was. He is also less easy to train with food because he gets so excited about it. My cat knows 5 times as many commands as my dog. What is up with that?

The number three thing I don't like about my dog is that he had two accidents today. He is six-months old and he rarely has accidents, but ... he shouldn't have any. Why, dog?

The number four thing I don't like about my dog is that, despite (what I think is) real consistency in leash-training, he still pulls when we are walking. I certainly can't trust him off-leash. And running is difficult, too (but more because of the occasional jerks than consistent pulling). It makes it harder to exercise with him and both Guille and I are getting less exercise now than before we got him.

The number five thing I don't like about my dog is my new theory that he is mostly NOT a border collie (despite what his foster mom suggested) but, in fact, a Smooth Fox Terrier (or at least that's the dominant breed). That's not good news for the long term safety of my cat, but despite his over-interest in Nikos, so far we've seen no behavior that suggests aggression.



Smooth Fox Terrier 1      Smooth Fox Terrier 2                 Odys, my puppy



You'd think, wouldn't you, with all that to complain about that I would not like my dog at all. But I do. I love him. He's a snuggle bug and a lovey and energetic outside with good indoor energy. He's crate-trained and very good about staying out of off-limits areas (like the kitchen and laundry room) despite the fact that we have no barriers there. He does not bark except when Guille is trying to get him to and then it's more of a yodel. And I love him. Oh well.

I'm writing a paper that's due tomorrow at 2pm. It's 10pm now, and I am just really starting. Here's what I've got:

The rhetoric of teen pregnancy is a crucial site to examine race. It carries enormous emotional weight for almost all participants in debate on the topic and sex education (one of the major goals of which is to avoid teen pregnancy) is “deeply grounding when it comes to morality” (Luker 185). Teens are between childhood and adulthood, and are moving from being “at risk” to “potentially dangerous,” and the act of becoming pregnant is often seen as forcing that social transition. Thus, descriptions of pregnant teens are descriptions as passive as “children having children” and morally aggressive as “welfare queens.” Both of these descriptions are loaded with racial meaning, but it is a meaning that relies on a degree of flexibility that seems absent from biological conceptions of race. Instead, Stoler’s emphasis on the folk theory of cultural contagions (151) coupled with the idea that such contamination is never entirely erasable (Dawdy 150) provide a useful starting place. What they discuss indirectly, I hope to reframe here in an exploration of the role of aging in racialization.

Normally, this would all be erased by the time the paper got handed in, replaced by something that hung together a little better. But I just haven't had the time, so it may just make it all the way.

Wish me luck!

I am a beast. I finished the poster I'm going to present at the SMAs. I haven't checked it for punctuation or anything, but it's done. I leave for Yale this afternoon.



That's two cartoons about sex ed, a Female Reproductive System, a chart illustrating my data and a pretty white poodle-like dog with toenails painted pink. Can we review one more time how proud I am of myself? Or maybe that's just 4:30 a.m. talking ...

Good night!

It used to be that when I got stressed out I would dream of driving a stick shift car in first gear in circles around a Takoma Park parking lot, just barely holding it from crashing, scraping the wooden fence all the way 'round. But now I own a stick shift car and I actually enjoy driving it FAR more than I EVER enjoyed driving a standard.

Last night my dreams were about hamsters. Because I leave for the SMAs TOMORROW and I STILL don't have a poster that I'm happy with at all, I tried to dream about sex ed so that I would wake up inspired. Instead, I dreamed I was going through my old stuff back in D.C. and I found one of my old hamster cages. I was about to empty it of the pine shavings when I saw something moving. It was, beyond all reason, a hamster. It had survived the past eight years with no one looking after it. I went to look for some food to give it and when I came back I realized there was another one. And then another. My three cages were overflowing with hamsters. I tried to separate them, knowing that two hamsters together almost always means more hamsters. But I didn't have enough boxes! And suddenly it became clear how these hamsters - some now massive, easily as big as the rats I owned in college - had survived the neglect - they'd been living off each other's flesh. Although none of them bit me, I just couldn't keep up with separating them, couldn't find enough places for them.

Then G called to remind me to stop hiding in bed from my work. Thank goodness for supportive husbands.

Because I'm sitting here trying to read a friend's thesis and give feedback (omg, why am I such a friggin' slow reader of nonfiction?) I declined G's offer to join him in watching America's Best Dance Crew.

We had really enjoyed watching all the back episodes, marveling over the Jabbawockeez and excited about the presence of Vogue Evolution, a crew made up of four black men and one black trans woman. They weren't necessarily our very favorite dancers, but we liked their energy and we definitely liked their presence on the show. It seemed like Lil Mama, one of the judges was one of those people out to show off how cool they are by liking gay men, but there are worse sins.

Like, for example, when in the last show, Lil Mama took it upon herself to criticize Leiomy's femininity and to teach her how to be a real woman. While I could not be shocked, I was still SO disappointed. Leiomy's sitting there pissed as hell and all the boys around her are nodding and whatnot and I'm like, DAMMIT, NO ONE IS GONNA CALL THIS WOMAN OUT!

And they haven't, as far as I can tell.

But today, while I was sitting here and trying to read, I heard G and his bro talking about the show in the living room. And it was not G (who I expect such sentiments from), but his brother (the Iraqi war vet) who called her out. "'This is how to be a woman,' shut the fuck up! She was totally out of line," he said disgustedly.

And that was the moment I knew that he could live with us as long as he wants. :-)

[ETA: Thanks to my friends who help check my language.]

Life. It seems to be going pretty well, I think. There's some stuff going on work wise that is neither full of drama nor angst, but is still difficult. I think that's a good thing. School starts Monday.

Family is doing well, as far as I can tell. I got to visit my sister in San Diego over the weekend and that was very yay. That trip, obviously, also involved multiple instances of getting to be Auntie Sam, which is always fun. I have learned about myself that I am not the fun aunt. Despite insisting to Mason (my nephew) that he think of Jelly Bellies when he thinks of me, I think, instead, he thinks of a second-rate unbuckler of carseats and a really awful stroller-pusher. ("Mommy," the two-year-old darling announced to my sick sister upon our return from the walk to the park, "Auntie Sam is a bad driver.") The thing is that I really enjoy reading him picture books and letting him make me pretend sandwiches, but I guess I just don't have the energy to spoil him. I am a failure of aunt-ness!

It was nice to come home, though. Guille is sick, but nice, and yesterday I got to see a whole bunch of friends from school. I realized that I think I can actually count many of them as friends and not just mere acquaintances, despite the transitory nature of grad school peer relationships. Life with the puppy is going very well, too. He and Nikos get along very well so far (knock on wood) and play together a lot. Life in a house that I own is going pretty well, too. We might buy a new car on Monday, too.

Dear Work Ethic,

Where did you go? When our relationship took a new direction last Fall, I realize things got hot and heavy really quickly, but I need you in my life. I mean, it doesn't have to be like before. We don't have to call each other three times a day "just to check in" and stay on the phone for hours talking about our feelings. But maybe we could still hang out? 

I know things got a little stifling. We could have handled things better. Fine, I could have handled things better. But it had been a while since I'd done this while in school. We've taken a break now, and lied to ourselves that we weren't the whole time. But I'm in a better place now, and I think I can make this happen in a sustainable way.

Miss you ...

-Sam

I own a house and I am living in it.

Still moving from house to house. Yesterday we signed all the paperwork to buy the house. Today we signed it a second time because they didn't like Bill's signature. It has to read "[G's grandma's name] by [G's dad's name] Attorney-In-Fact" on every line. Some of those lines were tiny and it went to the next line. That's why they sent it back. We were supposed to have MOVED IN last Tuesday. Since then we've been shuttling between friends' houses.

If the story weren't different every day ... or maybe if it hadn't appeared that we wouldn't get to buy the place at all last Friday due to a major money difference (that our agent messed up) ... then perhaps I wouldn't be constantly on the edge of tears.

Of course, on top of that, the owners of the house we've been staying in all year decided that they think that the house is in bad condition. I can't tell you how hard we worked on it. But the fact that they went out of their way to do us a favor and now they regret it, despite me and G's mom working so hard, just makes me feel sick.

And then I found out that Corinne died Sunday night. She was not a person who should die young. She was a person who loved life and laughed maniacally when things turned to crap because of it. She was light.

If I were in D.C., now is the time that I would say, "I give up" and run and spend the night at my friend's house no matter how much it left G high and dry.

It's 3:30 and with the help of G's mom the house is in really good shape to pass back to its owners. These owners arrive tonight around 10:00 p.m. G's mom (and dad, brother, and nephew) are in a hotel.

But wait!, you might say, why aren't they in the house that you closed on yesterday. Your new house with three bedrooms and that unfortunate wall that previous owners painted black? You know the one!

Um, yeah. We didn't close on it yesterday. For whatever reason (it involves paperwork, and faxing between Boca Raton and Tucson and G's dad having power of attorney for his grandmother and omg I am so glad G's the one taking care of that end of things), we had to wait. So now we're hoping to close by Monday. It's (remotely) possible it will be done by Friday. It's (depressingly) possible that it will take all of next week and into the next.

In the meantime, G and I are hopping from friend's house to friend's house (thank goodness anthropologists do their research in foreign lands every summer) and blessing our lucky stars that we made some friends here. Also for the graduate student listserv.

I am taking the next few hours to catch up on some work taiwanese drama. I am so tired that I sort of want to cry. I feel like I should tell people I love (e.g. dad) the new state of things, but I really don't have the emotional energy to engage in conversation.

I'm sitting in Bookman's. A NEW Bookman's, with a much much smaller (but more manageable) kids section. I'm not actually here for the kids section, though. I'm here because I needed a place near campus to work where I wouldn't have to pay for the privilege. Mostly I've done coffee shops where I pay for coffee, which is usually much cheaper than paying for parking by the anthro building. But it's too tight for that these days, so I was planning to spend the day at the library. But it turns out that even the library downtown makes you pay for parking after an hour. Bookman's however, has Wi-fi and tables and chairs and outlets and is 100% free. I <3 Bookmans.

Today is a little scary. At 1:00 I am meeting with some top people at my site. I had an almost disastrous phone conversation with the executive director the other day where she asked me lots of detailed questions that I stumbled a lot trying to answer. I am determined to be more prepared today.

My We'Moon '09 Gaia Rhythms For Women Datebook is now full of meetings, and I'm beginning to really feel like I'm working on My Research. But I'm still moving too slow to be able to accomplish all the different goals I set for myself this summer. I'm not really sure what to do about it. I can't NOT do any of these things ...

One day at a time, I guess.

It's almost 3:00 pm. That means that I need to leave the house in an hour and a half to pick up Guille from work and go to the gym. I have been ready to work for the last six hours. I have accomplished nothing.

I have a lot to do. ( Here's a short list: )

But the thing is ... there are plenty of small steps and I'm just not taking them because what I REALLY need to be doing - getting the IRB so that I can start collecting data - is overshadowing everything. Like a big spaceship threatening to destroy Earth. Really, do you care about getting to work on time when you see a spaceship? No! Okay, that analogy makes sense in my head. I'm not going to worry if it makes sense to anyone else.

I'll let you know if this posting actually helped in a few days.

I had a massively unproductive day, intellectually speaking. I was supposed to be nailing down some general thoughts about my research, like, oh, why bother? But it wasn't happening. I was overwhelmed, and avoided thinking in lots of productive and unproductive ways.

Productive Ways:
+ folded eight loads of laundry
+ cooked lunch for myself
+ went for a morning run
+ showered and shaved my left leg (this is an incentive to shower again tomorrow and shave the right one)
+ wrote letters
+ continued Nikos' hoop-jumping training (okay, that's only minimally productive ...)

Unproductive Ways:
- read children's picture books! (OMG Shaun Tan is amazing. Like whoa.)
- watched three episodes of the Korean drama "My Girl" (and can I just ask: why do all drama heroines thoughtlessly step out into traffic requiring saving from hunky and disingenously disinterested heroes?)
- drank 3/4 of a bottle of wine

I avoided all day long, but the drinking began later. We don't normally have wine on hand, but I needed some for a recipe (BEHOLD: I AM COOKING!!!) and then, after Guille and I failed at the gym, we came home and hung out together in the kitchen. I don't normally talk about research at home, but I felt inspired. And, after a few glasses, I started talking about sexual citizenship and sensorial anthropology and thinking about "education" beyond cold cognition and BOOM! I was off to the races!

Don't get me wrong. I've got a long way to go (and the first round of the IRB is only a very early step), but this is still very exciting. Time to email some professors. Or maybe once the wine wears off a little more.

I feel like I have learned an enormous amount from the RaceFail posts. I have not engaged, except to occasionally thank people, because as I have watched other people make mistakes I would have made and be quite rightly corrected, I was able to understand the importance of just sitting back and listening, Of learning without burdening others with my slow steps.

But I face a dilemma. I am an academic, a grad student anthropologist, and I am writing papers and presenting at conferences. I have a responsibility to incorporate racism. I simply cannot sit back and listen, my career depends on me speaking up. And the big reason that this IS my career is because I WANT to speak up and make change.

That means that I'm going to try to make my slow steps public. It means that I'm going to try to benefit, professionally, from attempting to be anti-racist. And even though I am certainly not a white person whose social network is made up exclusively (or even predominantly) of white people, and even though there are WoC who write and work on issues related to racism who are helping me check my work, I am still painfully aware of how much of a novice I am in recognizing my privilege.

My problem is by no means a new one. Even though I'm not trying to speak for others so much as for myself and the world I want to live in, my failure, because of my privilege, will hurt others more than me. I am going to f* up, and I am going to hurt people in the process. And it is a fact of my privilege that I will be able to do this and it probably won't hurt my career. But the alternative, making my career about something else, is much worse. I feel called to educate. I feel called to make change for social justice. And I believe that it is my moral obligation (as a human being, as a Christian, as a future-mother of future-children of color, as well as my personal calling that I am morally obliged to follow) to make my life about this.

So, I am uncomfortable. As I should be. Discomfort is not fun.

--

P.S. Feel free to pat me on the back, this is MY lj, after all. However, if you're going to suggest that it's not a big deal that I'm going to hurt people, or that I shouldn't worry so much about my privilege, please refrain and read some of the amazing stuff by brilliant people on why that is not the case.

ETA: also feel free to disagree with me. Duh.

Yes, it's paper-writing time. I totally enjoy the researching part of it and I really really dislike the writing part. Getting all of the ideas in my head to lie flat on a page is never easy - I do much better with conversation/argument - and then organizing them into something that makes sense to anyone else seems like trying to decipher Linear A.

Luckily, this time around, I actually have something to say. And once I'm done, I'll have one more paper under my belt moving me closer to how to research and write about my real research interests.

This semester I learned that even when a professor tells you its too early to start worrying about writing their paper, it's really really not.

It's not that I'm a procrastinator (although I can be) so much as that I need time for ideas to settle, and for the crap to sift out of them. This is a lengthy process. The longer the paper, the more lengthy it is. A week is not long enough for the crap to fall out of a twenty-page paper.

1) The Journal of Computer-Mediated Communication is an amazing thing and will hopefully help me make my ethnographic discourse analysis paper on livejournal worth reading.

2) There's no way in hell this paper will be done by Wednesday.

Sometimes I use LJ to think "out loud" about my research, about theory, about papers, etc. Mostly, I make such entries private, mostly because I don't want to bore those who follow my lj any more than I already do.

If, however, any readers DO want to read such ramblings, comment and maybe I'll reconsider.

I went for a run this morning at 8:00am. I wasn't going to. I WAS going to attempt to do work, but probably actually screw around on the internet. But after reading another anthro blog, I was inspired.

This is the first time I've felt like doing anything healthy for weeks. Those of you who get personal correspondence from me will understand why. So it's big news.

Also, looking at this photo, I realize that my nose is bigger than I had previously appreciated. It's not a bad thing, but a little weird. I don't think it's my nose that's changed, just my perception of my own face.

And after that bit of inanity, it's time for work!

Didn't get the NSF. Life goes on.