(Or: How can you tell when a place isn’t right for you?)
Monday:
I’m not sure if Psych is working out so great. Everything seems so groundless, and none of it seems to have anything tangible to go on. I can just see it now. “Holy smokes, commissioner! Saddam has escaped and stolen a nuclear arsenal!! But wait, before we warn the people, let’s try and psycho-analyze him, based on theoretical hypotheses and unfounded facts that may or may not ever be “proven” in the future…”
Right, so my imagination is into overdrive nowadays. But seriously, there is so much I don’t understand about people. I don’t know. Just maybe, studying Psychology isn’t the way. It doesn’t help to have all my classes at 9am, including a 3 hour lab on Mondays, and a 2 hour lecture on Fridays. They’re practically on their knees begging me to hate them.
8:58am on every Monday and Friday: “AAARGGGGHHHHH! **** Psych ****, **** *********! ****!!” [EXPLETIVES CENSORED BY BLOGSPOT MANAGEMENT. Ah it’s you again. We’re not running a cussing factory here, you know. Although those really were quite extraordinary. What’s wrong with you woman? You would think no one else ever had to get up so early.]
Tuesday:
Me so tired. Me not enjoying this. Me not like this place. Me wants compose poem, but me not remember how. Me will try anyhow.
The little bee is a busy soul
He has no time for birth control
And that is why
in times like these
there are so many sons of bees.
Me sad. So sad, me.
So what’s with the bees?
Wednesday:
I read this article about sexual imagery in the language of defense intellectuals. This lady, Carol Cohn, attended a summer workshop on nuclear weapons, which incidentally is dominated by men, and wrote this brilliant piece on it. It was really strange, stuff like “vertical erector launchers, thrust-to-weight ratio, soft lay-downs, deep penetration, and the comparative advantage of protracted versus spasm attacks” can be taken seriously. Those officials also have a habit of "patting" the missile (which is vaguely disturbing, why would you want to “pat” something which is going to destroy thousands of people?) and abbreviating most of their programs. Which makes me think that when you’re in an environment like theirs, with the lives of so many others at stake, maybe it’s rational to dehumanize your work. Like she mentioned this guy who said that they “don’t bomb people, (they) bomb shoe factories.” Honestly, that world doesn’t seem very rational to me, which is quite worrisome.
I have finished reading Kissinger’s Diplomacy. Talk about pro-american sentiment. Also, in other Rachel-related news, I have finally decided to start on my Cold War essay. (Cue dramatic orchestral music, which heightens to a climax and then ebbs out into sad tired pokes at a toy piano. Plink plink. Plink?) Maybe later. After a nap.
Thursday:
I was so sad all I wanted to do is curl up under my blankets and cry. I can’t go on like this. I miss home and I miss my friends. I miss the baby. I miss not feeling lonely; I miss my life. I want it all to get better now but it can’t. I don’t know how to make anything better. I just want to feel better.
Anyways, I finally started reading Gaddis’ We Now Know! Rethinking Cold War History. About a year too late huh.
Friday:
Yao, Jackson and I went to Pancake Parlour for dinner (where I learnt more about black holes and what would happen if you drill a hole through the Earth to the other side). It was so fun, we just sat there talking about a lot of nonsense for about 3 hours. After which we went to watch the Simpsons, Homer: “Why would you pay for something you can watch on TV for free?” Hmm I don’t know. (Cause I'm a sucker for cartoons on the big-screen that's why.) Today was probably one of the best times I had in awhile though. I realize this is sad, at least I know it right?
Saturday:
You know, I really should get started on my essay. But I’m in the throes of probably the most insidious writing block to ever be. Bleh. I guess it’s cause my head is still filled with popcorn and pancakes from yesterday. And what little grey matter I have left in my brain is slowly but surely being burned off by the gamma rays of those aliens hiding in the black holes. Aaiiiigh. I will just go do some free laundry.
Sunday:
I wake up at 8. (and… cue laugh track. Roll credits. Thank you.)
