me = grumpy old woman

I was an at Important Academic Event today and something happened that rather annoyed me. So, as is usual, I'm laying it out here.

It was a seminar-type situation where one person was presenting. There were a couple of professors and junior scholars, including a good friend of the presenter. When it came to Q&A, the Good Friend kept on finishing the presenter's lines/arguments and jumping in when she (presenter) was asked a challenging question or asked to follow up/explain.

It got to the point that the presenter looked at Good Friend, GF jumped in and voila! Later, GF was making a lot of comments about how "tough" the presenter had had it and how the Q&A was unfair.

I was wondering what academics or academics-in-training would make of this? I found it insulting but then I'm the sort to prefer making an arse out of myself solo (and have a regrettable tendency to become highly sarcastic when publicly-challenged/pushed). But, still, I can understand a supervisor/advisor helping out if/when their student is under fire* but a Friend? Especially one who jumped in without the presenter actually being in trouble?



* I'd like to make it clear, though, the general view was the the Presenter was not under fire and the questions, while wankerish in their repetition, were straightforward ones, asking for clarification.

Interlude.

"Why, hello there, Fanny. Why don't you come on up?"


(Clive Owen, Rome, May 27. Image via Bauer-Griffin via Jezebel.]

moving on

Earlier this weekend I was thinking deep profound thoughts about friends and friendship. I realised that the friends I hang out with these days do rather different things to those I used to hang out with a year or two ago. It's as though I've reverted to my (usual) self--my time at uni and work overseas--a time before I came to the USA. A time when I refused to set foot in anything resembling a "club" or a "lounge", a time when I hung out watching football (and other sports) in dark, seedy pubs at odd hours of the day, a time when I hung out with people who have "game days/nights" (with the "game" in question being board games or video games), a time when I go watch films and plays with people (and end up in a pub after, discussing those).

I also realised that I have two groups of friends: one, people I keep in touch with via email (or, now, through Facebook) and whom I've known for over a decade and who seem to visit me at odd times and places (I had a vistor last weekend, a friend I'd not seen in nearly 4 years). The other group is friends I've just recently acquired--most of them in the past year. Sadly enough, apart from Fanny*, most of my friends from the years-in-between seem to have dropped out of touch and/or are living elsewhere.

I wonder if that means I've somehow become stable and set in this place where everyone is transient? I wonder if that means I should look into moving on elsewhere?

* Fanny doesn't get the luxury of not being in touch since, apart from us here, I also invite myself to her place every once in a while. Next month, for instance.

hot.

The previous post was the 100th for Fanny and I, btw. I didn't realise till just now. If I (we) had, I (we) might have put forth something profound and thought-provoking. Or so I tell myself.

In the meantime, it's been over 85 degrees (Fahrenheit, of course) here and I've wandered down to the stadium to watch my first DC United match this season.

Where I saw this (see right). Where had he been in my past few visits to RFK stadium, I wonder?

The Road

I, like many others, was one of the people who didn't believe Viggo would make a good Aragorn. I preferred Sean Bean, just because I'd seen his work before and, hey, Sean Bean! and yet was a Viggo-fan by the end of LOTR.

What extent of a fan, yous ask? Well, I've watched Hidalgo more than once.

So, I'm rather excited about The Road (pic above). I liked the book though I'm curious as to how things will change in the film.

Now

Now, I've been thinking I really should have woken up earlier to work on my thesis.

Now, I've been thinking that having a "late lunch" shouldn't mean eating your first meal of the day at 325pm.

Now, I've been thinking it would be nice if Fanny were here in my town so I could drag her to watch a film/hang out and do something this evening.

Now, I've been thinking the day has turned out lovely (bright sunshine, a cool breeze) and I'm sat indoors writing on the computer.

Now, I've been thinking I should have accepted the BBQ invite I got a few hours back (instead of the dinner invite I ended up deciding on)

Now, I've been thinking that three years is too long not to see my parents.

Now, I've been thinking I should really get off my arse and start doing some daily exercise (and not just lift pint glasses as I watch soccer).

Now, I've been thinking I should confess I voted for American Idol on Tuesday.

Now, I've been thinking this list is getting too bloody long and yet I have lots of things I could add to it.

But not now.

Now, I reckon I'll go sit outside in the backyard for a few moments and will do the daily crossword.

Lately.

I've had this recurring thought. I'm not sure I'm meant for this life.

This isn't a mid-life crisis or existential crisis or dissatisfaction with what I've got going on. I'm quite satisfied with what I've got going on, more or less. It's not angst-driven.

It's more like thinking that if I didn't have these parents, if I hadn't made these decisions, I would be an entirely different person. I would be a tattooed up baker, in a large city who wore matte red lipstick everyday and had blunt cut bangs. I would be a jeweler at the sea, with long skirts, dirty feet and unwashed, ass-length hair in messy braids. I would be a writer in a garret, thriftstore chic and smoking foreign cigarettes. I would be someone else.

If I had more courage, more conviction, would I be more comfortable in my skin? Happier? Thinking that if I had different parents, made different decisions I would be the therapist with shiny lipgloss, many shoes and many cashmere cardigans?

I don't know. It's like peering into the looking glass, seeing something that was/is possible if not for the decisions made I didn't even know I was making. Possibilities out there that may not be better possibilities that what I have now, but different ones all the same. It's a disconcerting feeling, deep in my belly, that those possibilities are out there and I would be someone else.

I think I would like to know her. She sounds like fun.

(Apologies for the dramatic use of italics. That's how it sounds in my mind.)

World domination...

...one Asian girl* at a time.

Land, Infrastructure, Transport and Tourism Minister Tetsuzo Fuyushiba, center, poses with South Korean singer Younha and kimono-clad Hello Kitty holding certificates they received at his office in Tokyo, Monday, May 19, 2008. THE ASSOCIATED PRESS/Koji Sasahara

Obviously, we* are all very excited.

*Us Asian girls (women?), don't you know.

(almost) friday frivolity: no more football

So, the English Premiership season is over. Liverpool, as always, didn't challenge for the title, lost in the semis of the Champions League and are in the midst of uncertainty about what's happening with their owners (who are fighting among themselves).

But, there's hope. Here's Xabi Alonso giving his opinion on quite a few things. I love the furrowed brow look and the confusion over "mushy peas or gravy"

Life decisions.

I love this article.

I wanted to be Indiana Jones. I realize now that I am not terribly original.

Indy's main value in the academic world has been as an inspiration to aspiring archaeologists, said Zimansky, who noticed a spike in new students in the early 1990s while teaching at Boston University.

"If you asked these people why they were becoming archaeologists, it always starts off with Indiana Jones. It actually converted a number of people. They got their initial interest in archaeology from Indiana Jones," Zimansky said.

But, you know, I had to learn the hard way. I had to go and get the degree.

The reality of archaeological field work is not a lone hero dashing into hidden chambers with a bullwhip and a pistol and coming away with a priceless relic. It's large groups of academics and students painstakingly sifting through grids to retrieve artifacts as mundane as pottery fragments.

I had to sit for 8-10 hours a day, soaking, cleaning, brushing, cataloging tiniest bits of flotsam, because maybe! Just maybe! That bit of flotsam was a link to the Lower XiaJiaDian, and would tell us about these people, who were not unlike you and me. That little bit of pottery would lead the way to Important! Discoveries! To! Mankind! So I better handle it carefully and who cares if my hands were sunk in muddy water so much, they stopped wrinkling up? I was making Important! Discoveries!

Except my mind kind of went numb. The red-tape and rigmarole and ass-kissing and permits and politesse was just crushing the life out my dreams.

So I went away and became something else and have learned to like it. With no where near the fervency and love and zeal as I did for archaeology, but that's okay. I can still have uncrushed dreams.

But sometimes I would really like to wear a fedora and sit with my hands in muddy water for hours at a time, handling jumbled pieces from a very long time ago.