I’ve been in a blogging drought lately.  I drive around town plotting what kind of blog updates I’m going to make, and then I sit down at the computer and get lazy.

I’ve been working on the frontmatter finding aid elements at work, which translates into a lot of hours starting at the computer in my cubicle.  When I get home I have absolutely no desire to turn on the laptop.

Mostly I’ve been watching a lot of British TV on Netflix.  For the longest time I’ve really wanted to like Doctor Who, but I watched a few episodes with David Tennant as the Doctor, and these randomly selected shows just didn’t hook me in.  I decided to do it proper and start with episode 1 of the 2005 season.  Ding!  That hooked me.  Guess I just had to watch them in order for the later episodes to have more meaning.

Once I finished that season I started watching Torchwood, and holy crap, next thing I know I’m an addict.  It’s like a slightly goofier X-Files, and I now need my crack fix several times a day.

New digs.

Okay, so I had a period of time last fall that was filled with some big (and unnecessary) dramarama, but now things are better.  I moved to a new locale in the Los Angeles region, and I am busy setting up my new abode.  It doesn’t have the old tyme charm of the last place, but the air conditioning works at this new place and the windows keep in the right air temperature.  I’m making it charming myself.

After a brief period of time working hard to find another old apartment in a relatively safe area with hardwood floors and a parking space (preferably under $1,000 per month to rent), well, I flat out gave up.  I’m pretty sure anything with those qualifications does not exist in Los Angeles.  If you’ve found it, double triple super bonus points for you!  I found a nice alterative place to settle down at though, that still clocks in at under $1,000, is a one bedroom, and is just the right size for me.  I’ll bring the personality.

My work commute is amazing.  On an all-lights-are-green day I can make it there in 5 minutes.  10 minutes on a bad day.

Guess I should take some photos sometime of the new digs.  It is still very much a work in progress.

For now though I’m going to bed – it’s been a very productive day of work, but also mentally exhausting.

In Light of Recent Events.

This quote is a lovely summation of how I feel due to privation of soul:

When a man’s life is destroyed or damaged by some wound or privation of soul or body, which is due to other men’s actions or negligence, it is not only his sensibility that suffers but also his aspiration toward the good. Therefore there has been sacrilege towards that which is sacred in him.

-Simone Weil

Weil is a pretty interesting character.  I’d like to read more about her.

Routines and Regulars

Now that I have a bit of a routine going in my first two weeks of full-time work I’ve begun to notice “regulars.”  When I run at the park in the morning before work there is a woman who always wears a blue hair bandana who runs.  She tends to run the opposite way around the track than I do and when we pass each other I have the urge to give her a high five or cheer her on for working hard (she’s not one of the track people who zooms around – she falls in the category that I also fall into – people running around the track trying their hardest to keep their legs moving and their lungs working).

There is also a tall guy who walks the track, and even though he’s walking I still want to high five or fist bump him for showing up all the time too.  You go regulars!

I work at a museum in a park, and the road I take after getting off the freeway runs along a jogging/walking/horse riding path.  Today and yesterday there was an older woman power walking alone – another regular that I’ve started to notice!

I’ve always wanted to be able to walk into a bar and have the customers and bartender know my name.  I think “knowing” the regulars of the exercising-in-the-park world is probably a healthier familiarity, haha.  (Though if there was a bar I liked within walking distance of my apartment, I would also go for knowing the bar regulars!)

Now that grad school is over I can drone on about cleaning instead!

I have no idea what this says about me, but nothing provides such instant satisfaction as cleaning something ridiculously dirty and seeing it sparkle afterward.

Thanks to the magic of Apartment Therapy readers, I recently learned that Magic Erasers are truly magical when it comes to cleaning tile grout.

When my roommate and I moved into this apartment, I am 99.9% sure that the bathroom floor tile looked dingy and scratched and generally grout-nasty.  Frequency of cleaning doesn’t seem to matter.  I started to think that the tiles were just so old that they were too dinged up for repair.

About half-way through the process: Clean white grout > Nasty black grout

And then – POOF!

Magic.  Magic Eraser + Elbow grease = nearly new looking floor!  There were a few grout spots I couldn’t get up, but I also only spent 1/2 to 1 hour on the floor, so maybe if I tried a little harder it could’ve been 10 for 10.  I don’t know why 10.  It’s a nice rounded number and easier than counting the actual floor tiles.

At any rate, the bathroom floor doesn’t look like its 60+ years.  It’s like Botox for the floor!  hah  Next up are the kitchen counters.  The tile is nicer looking, but the grout is nasty there too.  Time for some magic!

I was also going to write about how Bar Keepers’ Friend is now, in fact, my friend too, but this involves using pictures from Mr. H’s Nintoaster project and I don’t want to give away any of those exciting details!  Here is a sneak peak shot he took:

Me through the dissected toaster grates.

I’ll have to get him to blog a post!

MEAT.

I have a very strange relationship with meat.  I’m not sure how to explain how I feel about this food category.  I guess in a way I’m like a little kid refusing to eat their vegetables without much other reason than “they look weird!”

I was a really picky eater as a kid, though now I’ve outgrown nearly every picky eating habit – except my weird feelings toward meat.  Actually, if anything, I eat way less meat nowadays than I did as a kid (kid meat being things like chicken nuggets, hot dogs, sandwich lunch meat)

When I look at a piece of steak I think, “Cow goes moo.”  Even though a slab of steak is so far removed from its original home, I still associate it with cows, and cows are cute and scary and wonderful and I don’t want to eat Bessie.

When I look at a piece of chicken I think, “Yum!”  Especially if I don’t have to cook it and its white meat/chicken breast.  I’m weirded out by brown meat and anything with bones and grizzle and any piece that resembles a former body part.  There is something comforting and edible about homogenous chicken breast meat.  No surprises.

And fish.  Oh man, such a strange thing.  I think I ate some fish sticks back when my age was in the single-digits range, but at some point I just turned away from them (just like I stopped eating hamburgers at age 3).

In my play kitchen I’d put pieces of plastic neon-green lettuce in the toy frying pan.  I’d cook up a mean sauteed lettuce.  At the time I thought I was being innovative – who cooks lettuce in a frying pan! – but now that I’m an adult I can see that the magic of cooking lettuce was only magical because my parents never put lettuce in a pan.  Now I do it all the time (and I imaginary fist bump my 3 year old self for being so vegetarian and forward looking without even knowing that it was not abnormal – though being “normal” has never ever really been a goal of mine).

So yeah, meat.  You can take it, I’ll leave it.  Token gestures to the chicken gods, occasional pig prayers (skinny slices of bacon cooked until burnt, no-surprises sausage – familiar, mostly homogenous), and the rest will be lettuce for me.  Warm up that skillet!

Constructive Time Use

I live next to a giant intersection where two major and one minor streets collide.  Every day on my way home from work I have to make a green-light yield left turn through this monstrosity.  As I sit in the middle of the intersection, waiting for the light to turn yellow or red so traffic stops and I can turn, I think about the zombie apocaplyse.

Actually, it starts with me thinking about what a giant chunk of real estate is in the middle of the intersection.  If only these streets had been planned better this space would be less of a car clusterfuck and more of a useful space.  Just imagine the price of the land!  And then when my mind starts thinking more and more, as cars going the opposite direction whizz past my car, I start thinking about what a wasteland this intersection is.

A vast, massive desert.  A challenge to cross as is, but!  What if – What if there was a zombie attack!  I live on one side of the intersection, but the grocery stores I visit are on the opposite end.  How would I cross the abyss undetected so I could go pilfer the grocery store for supplies to hoard?  These are important questions.  So I sit in the middle of the intersection and plot out which streets I’d take north or south of the vast wasteland.  I start thinking about potential zombie distraction techniques, so while the deadbrains are looking right, my livebrain darts left.  And then the light turns yellow, and then red, and the cars stop coming and I make my left turn and head home.  Back to the road, leaving further emergency planning for the next drive home.

What do you think about during your work commutes?

Support for the National Women’s History Museum

Somehow the National Women’s History Museum got ahold of my mailing address.  I’ve recently been involved with preservation organizations and have given money to the National Trust for Historic Preservation, so I have a feeling they found me through one of those veins.

At first I was unsure how I felt about such a museum.  When I wrote my undergrad thesis I was annoyed that books on women’s history were labeled with pinky-purple stickers marking them as “gender” history books.  They were sequestered on a floor away from the history books and in their own nook next to all the different “studies” books (African-American, Chicano, etc.).  While I think there is nothing more awesome than acknowledgment of women’s achievements throughout the past (or the achievements of any other understudied, marginalized groups), I don’t see why these books can’t rub shoulders with the “non-gendered” history books.  So in this way, my first reaction was to feel that women don’t need an entire museum – they just need greater recognition in the Smithsonian American History Museum.

Yet the more I started thinking about the divergent ways in which women experience and engage with history, the more I started to feel that maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.  While there is something of a collective American experience that affects all residents of the country, there are different expectations for how to fulfill what it means to be an American man or woman.

Senators Jim DeMint from South Carolina and Tom Coburn from Oklahoma essentially crushed the bill put forth to the Senate that would allow federal land near the National Mall to be sold (at fair market value) to the National Women’s History Museum for a museum site.  DeMint and Coburn placed a hold on the bill that stalled its progress until last year’s Congress closed, forcing the supporters of the bill (Senator Carolyn Maloney from New York and Susan Collins from Maine) to reintroduce it again this year.  The objectors’ protests centered around allegations that the museum was a politically driven organization desiring to put up only pro-abortion messages, despite the lack of evidence to prove that this was the case.  The museum will not be receiving taxpayer support, it is a private non-profit, and all it wants to do is purchase land to build a museum.

All this says to me that there is a great need at present for more dialogue on women’s role in history.  When all that can be said about women’s history is abortionabortionabortion there is clearly a need for greater education.  A Women’s History Museum should not just be about birth control and feminism (though these two are important components of a larger story), but should tell all facets of the female experience.  The Museum is currently running (and expanding) an online exhibit about motherhood, which I have a feeling is intended to soothe the naysayers’ worries that the Museum will only celebrate rebellion or stories that might be perceived as “non-traditional” to the more conservative sector.  I applaud the efforts of the exhibit and really hope that it shows how we arrived at our present attitudes and how complicated the choice to be a mother is at present!  Having it “all” seems like a heck of a lot of work and I applaud those who choose motherhood, those who choose careers, and those who tackle them both.

So even though I want to buy an HD TV, I just shelled out a couple hundred for thesis binding/copying/graduation fees, my car needs new break pads, and I just had my giant car insurance bill arrive in the mail, I’m going to get out my checkbook and send in some monetary support.  And if someone were to send me a call for support for a National Men’s History Museum, I’d jump on board there too.  I think what it means to be a “woman” or a “man” in any given time period is very important in discerning how we choose to act and shape ourselves.  I don’t think women should be privileged over men by any means (or vice versa), we just need to reach a greater level of understanding and respect for all conditions of life.  I think that the National Women’s History Museum is a good way to do just that.

More info on the museum at their website.

To dos.

Things I want to do this summer (post-thesis turn-in and final grad essay writing):

1. learn/practice Spanish

2. (finally) learn how to play the ukulele

3. learn how my car works and how to replace the cabin air filter

Getting warmer.

I’ve spent a lot of time flooded with worry about how in the world I would finish my thesis on time.

Now, seventy-seven pages later, it is in the hands of my professors for editing.  I think it just might be okay, as long as they get the edits back in a reasonable amount of time.

Things are also going smoothly on the work project front as well.  I’m entering a data entry phase – I think I need to put together a good data entry music playlist, hah.  I went strong through the morning and early afternoon, but past 3pm I needed to come up for air.

Now, once I get my thesis edits back and put in the corrections and print out 5 copies on fancy cotton paper for binding – then I have a 20 page paper to churn out – and then I’ll be an MA graduate.  So close.  Come on May 15th!  I am ready for this song and dance to be over.