8.31.2004
The Tongue-In-Cheek Gene
On a similar note, Cousin 007 recently revealed that he is rediscovering the insult 'up yours.' I like it. And the Jenna Bush route, sticking out your tongue. I've been doing the anatomically impossible insults for a few years now - I think it started 3 yrs ago, with my friend A's habit of telling me to stop breaking her balls.
I think retro-kid-cute could be a lot of fun, and just as empowering.
It wasn't surprising when on her first day of campaigning, Jenna Bush did what we all are tempted to do when verbal arguments fail. She stuck out her tongue...As Charles Darwin argued back in the 19th century in his classic "The Expressions of the Emotions in Man and Animal," all humans signal the same state of mind with the same movements. Stick out your own tongue. Doesn't it feel bratty? The gesture engages the so-called paleocircuits of the hypoglossal nerve, which are connected to negative stimulation of the amygdala portion of the brain. These neural linkages also explain why some people stick out tongues while studying hard or performing jobs that involve precise manual dexterity. Tongue-show, as the scientists call it, has been shown in experiments to indicate dislike, disagreement and disgust. Some scientific journals refer to it as the "yuck-face."
Our cranial nerves control expression, and these nerves and the connected muscles constrict when we are having unpleasant thoughts, causing wrinkled noses and protruding tongues. They widen and flatten into open smiles when we're safe and happy. Scientists believe that these expressions began as ways to protect ourselves from dangerous substances. For the children of presidents and presidential candidates, news photographers are definitely dangerous.
At any rate, the human tongue is a paltry thing. Even when stuck out, it lengthens a pathetic 25 percent. Some people have longer and more flexible tongues than others - Jenna's appears normal - but other mammals, like anteaters, can double the length of their tongues. Salamanders and chameleons, whose tongues are attached to their pelvic regions, can shoot their tongues out more than half the length of their bodies, unfurling them at a rate of 20 feet per second.
I think retro-kid-cute could be a lot of fun, and just as empowering.
It wasn't surprising when on her first day of campaigning, Jenna Bush did what we all are tempted to do when verbal arguments fail. She stuck out her tongue...As Charles Darwin argued back in the 19th century in his classic "The Expressions of the Emotions in Man and Animal," all humans signal the same state of mind with the same movements. Stick out your own tongue. Doesn't it feel bratty? The gesture engages the so-called paleocircuits of the hypoglossal nerve, which are connected to negative stimulation of the amygdala portion of the brain. These neural linkages also explain why some people stick out tongues while studying hard or performing jobs that involve precise manual dexterity. Tongue-show, as the scientists call it, has been shown in experiments to indicate dislike, disagreement and disgust. Some scientific journals refer to it as the "yuck-face."
Our cranial nerves control expression, and these nerves and the connected muscles constrict when we are having unpleasant thoughts, causing wrinkled noses and protruding tongues. They widen and flatten into open smiles when we're safe and happy. Scientists believe that these expressions began as ways to protect ourselves from dangerous substances. For the children of presidents and presidential candidates, news photographers are definitely dangerous.
At any rate, the human tongue is a paltry thing. Even when stuck out, it lengthens a pathetic 25 percent. Some people have longer and more flexible tongues than others - Jenna's appears normal - but other mammals, like anteaters, can double the length of their tongues. Salamanders and chameleons, whose tongues are attached to their pelvic regions, can shoot their tongues out more than half the length of their bodies, unfurling them at a rate of 20 feet per second.
Nuke the Whales
Oh yeah. Check out how little bling there is in my ATL now that WH is gone, ex-best friend (EBF) is forbidding Umbrella and V. Wolfe to hang out with me, and B. is at Burning Womyn:
I rented Waterworld last night.
I love that movie. Its like the movie version of Lexx, my favorite bad Sci fi miniseries. Only head scratcher is: Fishman's precious jar of dirt is worth a bucket of money at the atoll. Fishman sells all the dirt, then uses half the money to buy a tomato plant growing in a similarly sized jar of dirt. Postapocalyptic economics - go figure.
Other only head-scratcher is: Why didn't they cast Kevin Costner instead of Tom Cruise for The Last Samurai? I thought those 'champion of a dying breed' movies were Costner domain.
Peace, out,
- Ms. No bling left in the ATL
The Kool-Aid Gene
Someone where I work is doing a study about The Political Brain. They are doing brain scans on republican and democratic right handed men ages 25-39. No comment. I posted the most relevant article below since its now archived on the NYT website.
Meanwhile, I am still here at work getting double-teamed by faculty who want - actually, I don't know what it is they want. Its not what they say they want, unless they really do want everything, perfect, publishable, yesturday. I think they want tenure and they think that in some tiny tangential way, I am standing in the way of that. Maybe they should start writing articles for the Sunday Times correlating political affiliation with blobs on brain scans.
Alright. Back to work. Only 3 more hours. I know I gave up getting here early a long time ago, but I have to stop coming in at 11AM, its killing my social life and probably isn't helping my reputation.
------------------
SECTION: Section 6; Column 1; Magazine Desk;
THE WAY WE LIVE NOW: 8-22-04:
IDEA LAB; Pg. 16
LENGTH: 1208 words
HEADLINE: The Political Brain
BYLINE: By Steven Johnson.
Steven Johnson is the author most recently of ''Mind Wide Open: Your Brain and the Neuroscience of Everyday Life.''
BODY:A few months before retiring from public office in 2002, the House majority leader Dick Armey caused a mini-scandal when he announced during a speech in Florida, ''Liberals are, in my estimation, just not bright people.'' The former economics professor went on to clarify that liberals were drawn to ''occupations of the heart,'' while conservatives favored ''occupations of the brain,'' like economics or engineering.
The odd thing about Armey's statement was that it displayed a fuzzy, unscientific understanding of the brain itself: our most compassionate (or cowardly) feelings are as much a product of the brain as ''rational choice'' economic theory is. They just emanate from a different part of the brain -- most notably, the amygdala, the almond-shaped body that lies below the neocortex, in an older brain region sometimes called the limbic system. Studies of stroke victims, as well as scans of normal brains, have persuasively shown that the amygdala plays a key role in the creation of emotions like fear or empathy.
If amygdala activity is a reliable indication of emotional response, a fascinating possibility opens up: turning Armey's muddled poetry into a testable hypothesis. Do liberals ''think'' with their limbic system more than conservatives do? As it happens, some early research suggests that Armey might have been on to something after all.
As The Times reported not long ago, a team of U.C.L.A. researchers analyzed the neural activity of Republicans and Democrats as they viewed a series of images from campaign ads. And the early data suggested that the most salient predictor of a ''Democrat brain'' was amygdala activity responding to certain images of violence: either the Bush ads that featured shots of a smoldering ground zero or the famous ''Daisy'' ad from Lyndon B. Johnson's 1964 campaign that ends with a mushroom cloud. Such brain activity indicates a kind of gut response, operating below the level of conscious control.
Could the U.C.L.A. researchers be creating the political science of the future? Consider this possibility: the scientists do an exhaustive survey and it turns out that liberal brains have, on average, more active amygdalas than conservative ones. It's a plausible outcome that matches some of our stereotypes about liberal values: an aversion to human suffering, an unwillingness to rationalize capital punishment and military force, a fondness for candidates who like to feel our pain.
What would that kind of insight tell us that we didn't know already? One thing is certain: evidence of a neurological difference between liberal and conservative brains would not be another instance of genetic determinism, since patterns of brain activity are shaped by experience as much as by genes. (Those who suffer from post-traumatic stress syndrome also show unusual patterns of amygdala activity, but those patterns are almost inevitably the imprint of a specific event, and not the long arm of DNA.)
Nonetheless, opening up the brain's black box might provide new explanations for how people become Republicans or Democrats, not to mention libertarians or Maoists, in the first place. It's pretty to think that we all decide our political affiliations by methodically studying each party's positions on the issues. But a recent study by Paul Goren at Arizona State found that voters typically formed their party affiliations before developing specific political values. They become Democrats first and then decide that they, say, oppose capital punishment and support trade unions. But how do they make that initial decision to be a Democrat? The most likely indicator of political preference is your parents' party affiliation, but if everyone simply voted along family lines, the dominant party would simply be the one whose members had the most voting offspring. The real question is why someone would ever break from the family tradition -- without feeling strongly either way about specific issues.
Those M.R.I. scans suggest an explanation. Perhaps we form political affiliations by semiconsciously detecting commonalities with other people, commonalities that ultimately reflect a shared pattern of brain function. In the mid-1960's, the social psychologist Donn Byrne conducted a series of experiments in which the participants were given a description of several hypothetical strangers' attitudes and beliefs. They were then asked which stranger they would most enjoy having as a co-worker. The subjects consistently preferred the company of strangers with attitudes similar to their own. Opposites repel.
Say you're inclined to form strong emotional responses to images of violence or human suffering, and over the course of your formative years, most of the people you meet who respond to these images with comparable affect turn out to be Democrats. That's a commonality of experience that exists beneath conscious political affiliation -- it's closer to a gut instinct than a rational choice -- but if you meet enough Democrats who share that experience, sooner or later you start carrying the card yourself. Political identity starts with a shared temperament and only afterward deposits a layer of positions on the issues.
Seeing political identity as a reflection of common brain architecture helps explain another longstanding riddle: why do people vote against their immediate interests? Why do blue-collar Republicans and limousine liberals exist? The question becomes less puzzling if you assume that 1) people choose parties primarily because they desire the companionship of people who share their cognitive wiring, and 2) they desire that companionship so much they're willing to pay for the privilege.
These are all hypotheses now, and indeed it may turn out that some other region of the brain plays a more important role in creating political values. But if the U.C.L.A. results hold water over time, it won't justify the Armey theory that liberals are somehow less rational than conservatives. One of the most celebrated insights of the past 20 years of neuroscience is the discovery -- largely associated with the work of Antonio Damasio -- that the brain's emotional systems are critical to logical decision-making. People who suffer from damaged or impaired emotional systems can score well on logic tests but often display markedly irrational behavior in everyday life. Dustin Hoffman's autistic character in ''Rain Man'' was brilliant with numbers, but you wouldn't necessarily want him in the White House.
Is there something intrinsically reductive or fatalistic in connecting political values to brain functioning? No more so than ascribing them to race or economic background, which we happily do without second thought. Isn't it more dehumanizing to attribute your beliefs to economic conditions outside your control? At least your brain is inalienably yours -- it's where the whole category ''you'' originates. No one denies that social conditions shape political values. But the link between the brain and the polis is still uncharted terrain. Prozac showed us that the slightest tinkering with brain chemistry could have transformative effects on a person's worldview. Who is to say those effects don't travel all the way to the voting booth?
Meanwhile, I am still here at work getting double-teamed by faculty who want - actually, I don't know what it is they want. Its not what they say they want, unless they really do want everything, perfect, publishable, yesturday. I think they want tenure and they think that in some tiny tangential way, I am standing in the way of that. Maybe they should start writing articles for the Sunday Times correlating political affiliation with blobs on brain scans.
Alright. Back to work. Only 3 more hours. I know I gave up getting here early a long time ago, but I have to stop coming in at 11AM, its killing my social life and probably isn't helping my reputation.
------------------
SECTION: Section 6; Column 1; Magazine Desk;
THE WAY WE LIVE NOW: 8-22-04:
IDEA LAB; Pg. 16
LENGTH: 1208 words
HEADLINE: The Political Brain
BYLINE: By Steven Johnson.
Steven Johnson is the author most recently of ''Mind Wide Open: Your Brain and the Neuroscience of Everyday Life.''
BODY:A few months before retiring from public office in 2002, the House majority leader Dick Armey caused a mini-scandal when he announced during a speech in Florida, ''Liberals are, in my estimation, just not bright people.'' The former economics professor went on to clarify that liberals were drawn to ''occupations of the heart,'' while conservatives favored ''occupations of the brain,'' like economics or engineering.
The odd thing about Armey's statement was that it displayed a fuzzy, unscientific understanding of the brain itself: our most compassionate (or cowardly) feelings are as much a product of the brain as ''rational choice'' economic theory is. They just emanate from a different part of the brain -- most notably, the amygdala, the almond-shaped body that lies below the neocortex, in an older brain region sometimes called the limbic system. Studies of stroke victims, as well as scans of normal brains, have persuasively shown that the amygdala plays a key role in the creation of emotions like fear or empathy.
If amygdala activity is a reliable indication of emotional response, a fascinating possibility opens up: turning Armey's muddled poetry into a testable hypothesis. Do liberals ''think'' with their limbic system more than conservatives do? As it happens, some early research suggests that Armey might have been on to something after all.
As The Times reported not long ago, a team of U.C.L.A. researchers analyzed the neural activity of Republicans and Democrats as they viewed a series of images from campaign ads. And the early data suggested that the most salient predictor of a ''Democrat brain'' was amygdala activity responding to certain images of violence: either the Bush ads that featured shots of a smoldering ground zero or the famous ''Daisy'' ad from Lyndon B. Johnson's 1964 campaign that ends with a mushroom cloud. Such brain activity indicates a kind of gut response, operating below the level of conscious control.
Could the U.C.L.A. researchers be creating the political science of the future? Consider this possibility: the scientists do an exhaustive survey and it turns out that liberal brains have, on average, more active amygdalas than conservative ones. It's a plausible outcome that matches some of our stereotypes about liberal values: an aversion to human suffering, an unwillingness to rationalize capital punishment and military force, a fondness for candidates who like to feel our pain.
What would that kind of insight tell us that we didn't know already? One thing is certain: evidence of a neurological difference between liberal and conservative brains would not be another instance of genetic determinism, since patterns of brain activity are shaped by experience as much as by genes. (Those who suffer from post-traumatic stress syndrome also show unusual patterns of amygdala activity, but those patterns are almost inevitably the imprint of a specific event, and not the long arm of DNA.)
Nonetheless, opening up the brain's black box might provide new explanations for how people become Republicans or Democrats, not to mention libertarians or Maoists, in the first place. It's pretty to think that we all decide our political affiliations by methodically studying each party's positions on the issues. But a recent study by Paul Goren at Arizona State found that voters typically formed their party affiliations before developing specific political values. They become Democrats first and then decide that they, say, oppose capital punishment and support trade unions. But how do they make that initial decision to be a Democrat? The most likely indicator of political preference is your parents' party affiliation, but if everyone simply voted along family lines, the dominant party would simply be the one whose members had the most voting offspring. The real question is why someone would ever break from the family tradition -- without feeling strongly either way about specific issues.
Those M.R.I. scans suggest an explanation. Perhaps we form political affiliations by semiconsciously detecting commonalities with other people, commonalities that ultimately reflect a shared pattern of brain function. In the mid-1960's, the social psychologist Donn Byrne conducted a series of experiments in which the participants were given a description of several hypothetical strangers' attitudes and beliefs. They were then asked which stranger they would most enjoy having as a co-worker. The subjects consistently preferred the company of strangers with attitudes similar to their own. Opposites repel.
Say you're inclined to form strong emotional responses to images of violence or human suffering, and over the course of your formative years, most of the people you meet who respond to these images with comparable affect turn out to be Democrats. That's a commonality of experience that exists beneath conscious political affiliation -- it's closer to a gut instinct than a rational choice -- but if you meet enough Democrats who share that experience, sooner or later you start carrying the card yourself. Political identity starts with a shared temperament and only afterward deposits a layer of positions on the issues.
Seeing political identity as a reflection of common brain architecture helps explain another longstanding riddle: why do people vote against their immediate interests? Why do blue-collar Republicans and limousine liberals exist? The question becomes less puzzling if you assume that 1) people choose parties primarily because they desire the companionship of people who share their cognitive wiring, and 2) they desire that companionship so much they're willing to pay for the privilege.
These are all hypotheses now, and indeed it may turn out that some other region of the brain plays a more important role in creating political values. But if the U.C.L.A. results hold water over time, it won't justify the Armey theory that liberals are somehow less rational than conservatives. One of the most celebrated insights of the past 20 years of neuroscience is the discovery -- largely associated with the work of Antonio Damasio -- that the brain's emotional systems are critical to logical decision-making. People who suffer from damaged or impaired emotional systems can score well on logic tests but often display markedly irrational behavior in everyday life. Dustin Hoffman's autistic character in ''Rain Man'' was brilliant with numbers, but you wouldn't necessarily want him in the White House.
Is there something intrinsically reductive or fatalistic in connecting political values to brain functioning? No more so than ascribing them to race or economic background, which we happily do without second thought. Isn't it more dehumanizing to attribute your beliefs to economic conditions outside your control? At least your brain is inalienably yours -- it's where the whole category ''you'' originates. No one denies that social conditions shape political values. But the link between the brain and the polis is still uncharted terrain. Prozac showed us that the slightest tinkering with brain chemistry could have transformative effects on a person's worldview. Who is to say those effects don't travel all the way to the voting booth?
8.30.2004
The Organizational Soc Guide to Online Dating
1. Increase Social Presence Gradually
In general, social presence increases with media richness. Media richness increases as follows:
In general, social presence increases with media richness. Media richness increases as follows:
- text based online post/email
- realtime text based chat/lots of emails
- phone
- realtime video
- face to face
- the sticky-icky
Its probably good to increase gradually. Why? That way you can screen out folks at stage 1 and 3 instead of stage 6. Certain decisions involving trust, honesty, clear judgement are more effective at higher degrees of social presence. And if 6 is the goal and social presence is not, skip this blog.
2. Situational Ethics, Shared Mental Map
Ethical behavior has individual and structural components. We have little control over an individuals lack of morals, but a lot of control over the situations in which we encounter them.
Once you've set the scene, set some standards. The 'rules of the game' are not fixed, but are created by each interaction. I know I've treated most guys fairly decently, except for that one guy I used to scream at and nag all the time. Even now when I apologize, he won't admit that he deserved to be treated better. And then there was one guy who I was ALWAYS NICE TO, because he was always nice to me, and made a point of looking hurt every time I was snappy. Create the rules you want and get rid of the ones you don't.
I don't have a list part II, but I can give you an example:
One time, after a bad night at a stupid bar with some horrible philosophy PhDs, I decided I'd downed my pint a little too quickly and needed to stay for another 30 minutes. After getting all my 'friends' to leave, I sat down at a table with what looked to be 2 moskovites and a kazakstanian. They thought I was psychic when my appraisal proved correct (OK, it was kazakstanians and one moskovite) and the night turned from terrible to ridiculously fun from there. They ended up coming back to mine, playing chess, drinking lots, making stupid jokes.. then they crashed in the living room. Then one of the above described underaged kazakstanians came to my room for some sticky-icky.
I have a theory that everyone, even Ted Bundy, is sensitive to 1 moral rule. Could be family (mother/sister), country (you should represent mother russia better than this), the other man(I have a boyfriend/husband/my dad is asleep upstairs) - whatever. When you're in a tough spot, just put yourself in the context of that moral framework and you're gold. With this particular boy, none of the first 3 worked. But what DID work was - charmingly enough - hospitality. I started complaining that here I was, trying my darndest to be a good host, and he was throwing my hospitality back in my face by being an overly demanding guest. He practically bolted back to the sofa. And in the morning we all skipped work and they cooked me breakfast and we would still be friends if they hadn't done some other ridiculous stuff the next couple times we hung out.
Anyways. Moral of the story is:
1. don't take home 3 drunk russians you just met. Its fun, but its also very stupid.
OK. I'm done. Back to work.
I make no claim that organizational sociologists make any useful contributions to online dating, nor do I claim to BE an organizational sociologist. I just think thats what they might say if they were going to.
8.29.2004
How Not to Call a Guy
1. write him a poem.
2. buy yourself flowers.
3. call your ex-boyfriend.
4. call your dad.
5. be money - get a calendar and count down the days.
6. decide you're only going to call if you're not obsessing about it.
7. decide you have to cook yourself a nice meal before you call.
8. change his name to 'not money' in your cell phone.
9. reminisce.
10. think about what you took away from the relationship. (a newfound appreciation of silence, etc...)
2. buy yourself flowers.
3. call your ex-boyfriend.
4. call your dad.
5. be money - get a calendar and count down the days.
6. decide you're only going to call if you're not obsessing about it.
7. decide you have to cook yourself a nice meal before you call.
8. change his name to 'not money' in your cell phone.
9. reminisce.
10. think about what you took away from the relationship. (a newfound appreciation of silence, etc...)
Drink the Kool-Aid
Has anyone else noticed the word ' Kool-Aid' popping up in articles about the Bush administration?
Like today's article in the Washington Post, 'Series of Misjudgments Cost President His Lead':
A top official from a former Republican White House said Bush's governing operation created critical problems for his political arm by deciding to "divide and conquer rather than unite and win." ... "There's nobody over there saying 'No,' " the official said. "It's all the same Kool-Aid. Instead of the art of governing, it's been, 'Are you for me or against me?' "
drink the Kool-Aid v. To become a firm believer in something; to accept an argument or philosophy wholeheartedly or blindly.
Notes: This phrase comes from the 1978 "Jonestown massacre" in which members of the Peoples Temple cult committed suicide by drinking cyanide-laced Kool-Aid (although some say the drink of choice was actually Flav-R-Aid).
I did a search in Lexis Nexis and came up with 125 articles from the past 6 months.. pretty funny.
- www.esquire.com/features/ articles/2004/040729_mfe_reagan_1.html
None of this, needless to say, guarantees Bush a one-term presidency. The far-right wing of the country—nearly one third of us by some estimates—continues to regard all who refuse to drink the Kool-Aid (liberals, rationalists, Europeans, et cetera) as agents of Satan. - http://www.usatoday.com/life/columnist/mediamix/2003-09-14-media-mix_x.htm
On last week's Topic A With Tina Brown on CNBC, Brown asked comedian Al Franken, former Pentagon spokeswoman Torie Clarke and Amanpour if "we in the media, as much as in the administration, drank the Kool-Aid when it came to the war." - Slate Magazine, June 10, 2004, Thursday, Palestine Policy Paralysis
...... Col. Patrick Lang writes, who think they are the 'bearers' of a uniquely correct view of the world. In his essay Drinking the Kool-Aid, Lang explains that officials with experience in the Muslim world are strangely absent from Team Bush. Rather, the administration stacked the deck with people who were willing to succumb to the prevailing group-think that typifies policymaking today "or, drink the Kool-Aid. - Charleston Newspapers Charleston Gazette (West Virginia), August 2, 2004, Reagan, Amazing cry against Bush
THE SON of former Republican President Ronald Reagan has taken a remarkable step. In the upcoming issue of Esquire, in an essay titled "The Case Against George W. Bush," Ron Reagan continues:"The far-right wing of the country - nearly one-third of us, by some estimates - continues to regard all who refuse to drink the Kool-Aid (liberals, rationalists, Europeans, et cetera) as agents of Satan. - Star Tribune (Minneapolis, MN), August 4, 2004, Kelly: This duck flies DFL coop; And some good party eggs in St. Paul feel left behind.
Among other things, I voted for Kelly in 2001, but, like a lot of his voters, I am wondering why he decided to drink the Kool-Aid. Just in case I was blinded by the brilliance of his self-immolation strategy, I drove out to the mayor's home turf to see whether he has managed to turn St. Paul into easy pickings for George Bush and Randy Kelly into a two-term mayor. - The Houston Chronicle, April 07, 2004, Staying the course? (Yeah, till June 30)
... A telling moment came Sunday on NBC News' Meet the Press when host Tim Russert asked Hughes: "What do you think (Bush's) biggest mistake has been and how has he learned from it?" It was a good question, if only as a veracity meter or reality check on Hughes. But she long ago drank the Kool-Aid, earning well the $ 15,000 a month she has been paid as a consultant by the RNC. - San Antonio Express-News (Texas), March 7, 2004, Random Notes
TOXIC LEGISLATIVE MIX "The conservatives at the statehouse are known as the ' Kool-Aid Drinkers,' after the religious cultists who committed mass suicide, while the few remaining moderate Republicans call themselves the 'Mushroom Coalition' - kept in the dark and covered with excrement." - Columnist Sidney Blumenthal describing the Arizona Legislature (Guardian Unlimited)
8.26.2004
T-22 days to the GRE
Someone told me I have to learn calculus and trig and that there are volume problems. Uh oh.
Maybe I should take a practice test this weekend.
Maybe I should take a practice test this weekend.
Property is Theft
The New York Times > Arts > Art & Design > Stolen Art Can Reappear in Unexpected Ways
Huh. The nature of the object/property is self-enforcing - it dictates how it can be owned. Its difficult to create value out of a recognizable famous art piece outside of a legal, public framework.
"Why are people stealing art that cannot be sold to anyone? What are these people searching for? Are they searching for money? Are they searching for honor within their own criminal world?"
OK, so whats the alternate source of value? Paintings are not liquid. As soon as the Scream was removed from the wall of the museum, it entered an alternate value framework where it was revalued in terms of prestige, money, honor...
"The pieces often become millstones for the criminals, said Tony Russell, a former investigator in Scotland Yard's art and antiques squad. They try to do deals within the criminal fraternity, to swap them for drugs or forged goods or whatever, and the new people who take them on realize that they can't do anything with them either," said Mr. Russell, who now works for Art Recovery Limited, a company that helps track down stolen works. Unseasoned criminals who steal fabulous art to gain prestige in the underworld often prove to be the architects of their own undoing when they are unable to keep quiet about their triumph, Mr. Russell said. "
Those trying to regain famous art create a competing value system that undermines the 'criminal underworld' and destroys the value of the painting created there. They assume that within the criminal underworld, there is no demand for art, and the pieces are illiquid. So criminals create value for the painting based on prestige and status, which has its own security risks. Cops establish rewards, making the paintings liquid again for anyone who is willing to break ranks.
I guess its just classic capitalism. You can steal a painting, but you can't steal what its worth. Eventually, what it is worth will drive it back to the position/location/ownership/control in which it is a placeholder for the most value.
Reminds me of Tyburn gallows, England, 1700s, in which relations of the deceased and surgeons would literally get in fist fights over the condemned mans dead body. The mans family wanted the body for its cultural and political significance - it could be used to carry out 'hauntings' and 'rough music' - rituals in which the poor would exact their own justice, complementing the state justice system. The surgeons wanted the body to advance science. I guess we can see who won.
Also reminds me of stories about anesthesiologists and surgeons duking it out in the OR over whether the patient could be operated on.
The value of a body. I don't watch TV too often, but when I do I am struck by the monetary value placed on excercise tapes which are like little transparent windows onto, or tunnels to, 'after' photos. Or ads that add up the cost of waxing, microdermabrasion, botox treatment, liposuction, mystic tan, so you can see that you can buy the body of the woman in the photo for only $3,450. Or you can just buy her legs for $1,720.
And the criminal who steals a beautiful body? Well, I will have to think about that. There are stories about the black market liposuctions which end in death, and of course some people manage to have an expensive body because nature gave it to them. But are they able to steal the value that an expensive body stores?
How do bodies store value?
Alright, back to work. No more meandering.
Huh. The nature of the object/property is self-enforcing - it dictates how it can be owned. Its difficult to create value out of a recognizable famous art piece outside of a legal, public framework.
"Why are people stealing art that cannot be sold to anyone? What are these people searching for? Are they searching for money? Are they searching for honor within their own criminal world?"
OK, so whats the alternate source of value? Paintings are not liquid. As soon as the Scream was removed from the wall of the museum, it entered an alternate value framework where it was revalued in terms of prestige, money, honor...
"The pieces often become millstones for the criminals, said Tony Russell, a former investigator in Scotland Yard's art and antiques squad. They try to do deals within the criminal fraternity, to swap them for drugs or forged goods or whatever, and the new people who take them on realize that they can't do anything with them either," said Mr. Russell, who now works for Art Recovery Limited, a company that helps track down stolen works. Unseasoned criminals who steal fabulous art to gain prestige in the underworld often prove to be the architects of their own undoing when they are unable to keep quiet about their triumph, Mr. Russell said. "
Those trying to regain famous art create a competing value system that undermines the 'criminal underworld' and destroys the value of the painting created there. They assume that within the criminal underworld, there is no demand for art, and the pieces are illiquid. So criminals create value for the painting based on prestige and status, which has its own security risks. Cops establish rewards, making the paintings liquid again for anyone who is willing to break ranks.
I guess its just classic capitalism. You can steal a painting, but you can't steal what its worth. Eventually, what it is worth will drive it back to the position/location/ownership/control in which it is a placeholder for the most value.
Reminds me of Tyburn gallows, England, 1700s, in which relations of the deceased and surgeons would literally get in fist fights over the condemned mans dead body. The mans family wanted the body for its cultural and political significance - it could be used to carry out 'hauntings' and 'rough music' - rituals in which the poor would exact their own justice, complementing the state justice system. The surgeons wanted the body to advance science. I guess we can see who won.
Also reminds me of stories about anesthesiologists and surgeons duking it out in the OR over whether the patient could be operated on.
The value of a body. I don't watch TV too often, but when I do I am struck by the monetary value placed on excercise tapes which are like little transparent windows onto, or tunnels to, 'after' photos. Or ads that add up the cost of waxing, microdermabrasion, botox treatment, liposuction, mystic tan, so you can see that you can buy the body of the woman in the photo for only $3,450. Or you can just buy her legs for $1,720.
And the criminal who steals a beautiful body? Well, I will have to think about that. There are stories about the black market liposuctions which end in death, and of course some people manage to have an expensive body because nature gave it to them. But are they able to steal the value that an expensive body stores?
How do bodies store value?
Alright, back to work. No more meandering.
Only AAA But I'm thinking XX
Not much to say today. Had a lovely sushi dinner last night. Fatty tuna, uni, eel.
This AM, Jack and Shira were bugging out. They just wanted attention, and food, and to go outside, and attention, and food, and to go outside.. I fed them, petted them for half an hour, then put them outside and drove to work. Last I saw, Jack was leaping through the backyard like a maniac. He's started cleaning himself more thoroughly, (thank god) so he's white again, not yellow with little brown feet.
Anyways, plugging along at work and things are getting more and more under control. Sometimes I just start working and make a huge mess and then once I plow through a lot of work I can breathe and organize and plan. 2 more weeks and I'll be in stage 2. Right now, everything in life is a mess, but a good mess. I'm establishing a healthy, productive rut. Come September I'll be ready to put the bling back in the ATL again, I think.
This AM, Jack and Shira were bugging out. They just wanted attention, and food, and to go outside, and attention, and food, and to go outside.. I fed them, petted them for half an hour, then put them outside and drove to work. Last I saw, Jack was leaping through the backyard like a maniac. He's started cleaning himself more thoroughly, (thank god) so he's white again, not yellow with little brown feet.
Anyways, plugging along at work and things are getting more and more under control. Sometimes I just start working and make a huge mess and then once I plow through a lot of work I can breathe and organize and plan. 2 more weeks and I'll be in stage 2. Right now, everything in life is a mess, but a good mess. I'm establishing a healthy, productive rut. Come September I'll be ready to put the bling back in the ATL again, I think.
8.25.2004
You're So Vain
I used to enjoy reading your Blog, but now I feel guilty. I feel as if I’m reading your diary.
-----Original Message-----From: Ms. Bling In the ATL [mailto:e.l.ATL-alumni@lse.ac.uk] Sent: Wednesday, August 25, 2004 3:18 PMTo: Umbrella Subject: RE:
slice this six ways to sunday, fool
Ms. Bling In the ATLe: Ms. Bling_ATL@
-----Original Message-----From: Umbrella [mailto:r@.com]Sent: Wednesday, August 25, 2004 1:21 PMTo: Ms. Bling In the ATLSubject:
You can slice it six ways to Sunday, but it’s still a journal.
http://microgravity.grc.nasa.gov/balloon/balloo02.mpg
-----Original Message-----From: Miss Bling
Sent: Wednesday, August 25, 2004 12:30 PM
To: Umbrella
Subject: FW: Free double feature Thursday: Unprecedented/Outfoxed
it is NOT a journal, fool!
Mail Myself To You
I had a dream this morning that my boss was telling me kindly and gently to get up and go to work. I opened my eyes and Jack was mid-meow an inch from my face. Sometimes he looks like a lab rat.
Made it here by 10:20 AM which ... is an hour and 20 minutes past the last possible moment I could be close to on time.
I don't really know any statistics. I don't think anyone else in the world does either, so no ones ever pointed at me and said 'the emperor has no clothes' or 'that stripper singing 'i rocked the cradle of love' has too many clothes' or..
Oooh, I just remembered a spectacular olympics launch Shira did into the mosquito net, this AM, followed by a twirl/backflip so she landed trussed up and swaddled in tulle or organza or whatever that thing is made of. What a sexy cat. Reminds me of that scene in Monkey King in the beginning when Joker is the robber baron and the spider immortal is still bad and she is hanging out in the Joker's robbers den to look for the monkey king and the robbers attack her while she is taking a steam bath in their hot tub and she launches herself out of the bath and spins into a red curtain, beating them all up and getting dressed at the same time. Ka-pow pow pow!
Anyways. Avg arrival time for the past month: 11:07 AM. Standard deviation: 90 minutes, which means I almost always arrive between 9:32 and 12:43 PM. Official time when I am supposed to be here: 8:30 AM. I should say that there must be a considerable amount of skew in the distribution towards 12:43.
That said, here I am. I'm licking envelopes. No sponge, no tape, I'm licking 'em. I figure real human spit will emit pheremones that might increase our survey response rate. I don't think me and empiricism were meant for one another.
8.24.2004
Mess
Its 10PM and I've made a mess of my office. Its littered with tilted boxes full of envelopes and tapes and scraps of used up stamps and more minitapes and tilting folders and rolls of stamps across the floor and poster sized postits shoved behind the filing cabinet and - well its such a darn mess now.
House looks the same.
*shrug*
I'm looking around and I guess no one minds but me.
Is it bad to sing karaoke at a strip club by yourself?
House looks the same.
*shrug*
I'm looking around and I guess no one minds but me.
Is it bad to sing karaoke at a strip club by yourself?
Bloggers Delight
I've lost my bloggers delight.
Blogs of a personal nature are fundamentally indiscrete. Momentary emotions, thoughts & statements get pulled out and preserved beyond their acceptable timeframe - and theres not great control over what gets said or why. Its a distortion of the presentation of self.
Also, I reckon the kids in my dpt are taking note of every time I log on. Or else just taking note of the sites I visit and keeping a little list titled 'innapropriate use of company ... laptop" or something.
Twin peaks quote: don't write down anything you don't want anyone else to know.
My cousin 007's standard for all actions: from the quakers, "can I hold this up to the light?"
Maybe I should go to the beach.
Blogs of a personal nature are fundamentally indiscrete. Momentary emotions, thoughts & statements get pulled out and preserved beyond their acceptable timeframe - and theres not great control over what gets said or why. Its a distortion of the presentation of self.
Also, I reckon the kids in my dpt are taking note of every time I log on. Or else just taking note of the sites I visit and keeping a little list titled 'innapropriate use of company ... laptop" or something.
Twin peaks quote: don't write down anything you don't want anyone else to know.
My cousin 007's standard for all actions: from the quakers, "can I hold this up to the light?"
Maybe I should go to the beach.
8.23.2004
FLSA and the American Dream
OK, this deserves comment.
Ppl prefer the empty status of being salaried to actual overtime pay. This deserves comment. And lots of statistics about how Americans work more hours than employees in any other industrialized nation (including Japan - for some reason thats the natural completion to that sentence, as if every reader must be thinking "no, the Japanese work much harder than we do") and how real income has been declining for the past 30 years and how its all because of the American Dream.
- e
To all Emory Staff:
I write out of concern that some Emory employees might feel that their
value as colleagues is somehow lessened because of new federal regulations.
These regulations require Emory and thousands of other universities and
businesses to change the way they document the work week.
As you may know, regulations effective today, arising from the Fair Labor
Standards Act, mean that many formerly "exempt" employees will become
nonexempt. This means that, instead of being paid monthly, they will become
hourly employees, paid biweekly, and eligible for overtime pay. At Emory,
this change will affect some 900 of our 18,000 employees. A fuller
description of these changes can be found in this week's "Emory Report,"
and Human Resources will be offering information sessions to help answer
the logistical and technical questions that inevitably will arise.
Two particular concerns, however, have come to my attention, and I want to
address them immediately.
First, while Emory must comply with these new regulations, we will not
allow broad-gauged and impersonal standards to impinge on the inherent
dignity of each person who works here. Whether one is paid once a month or
twice a month, whether one is eligible for overtime or not, whether one
must "clock in" and "clock out" -- none of this should be allowed to
diminish our sense of each other's worth or our own. Every position at
Emory contributes in substantial and important ways to the University's
mission.
The second point to note is that, for some employees, the change from being
paid monthly to being paid biweekly could initially create some timing
issues for personal finances, even though the total annual compensation
will not change. For instance, the change might affect direct deposit,
payroll deduction of mortgages and other loan payments, and so on. I am
aware of this concern and have asked our financial and legal analysts to
study the best way to address it.
In the meantime, those employees being changed from exempt to nonexempt
will continue to be paid monthly until the end of January,2005. During
this time we will review the changes necessary for compliance with federal
law, while giving employees and departments time to prepare for the
significant effects the changes will have on them.
If you have questions about whether and how these changes will affect you,
I encourage you to contact your departmental HR representatives or call the
HR hotline at 404-712-4744; you may leave a message with your question, and
someone will return your call with more information. You may also email
your comments or questions to flsa@emory.edu.
With best wishes and gratitude for all that you do for Emory,
Sincerely,
Jim Wagner
President
Alice R. Miller
Emory University
Vice President for Human Resources
The Ms. Bling in the ATL Rules
OK. In my thoroughly humbled opinion, the answers to most guy related questions are either:
A. He got hit by a car while running across the street to buy you flowers, and died. Theres no point in calling him or worrying about it.
B. He's fucking. Sorry.
C. He wants you to leave him alone.
--------------------------------------------------------
examples...
Q. Why doesn't he call?
A. He got hit by a car while running across the street to buy you flowers, and died. Theres no point in calling him or worrying about it.
Q. We had plans. Why'd he stand me up without calling?
A. He's fucking. Sorry.
Q. Why'd he cheat on me?
A. He wants you to leave him alone.
Q. He went to a party last night and hasn't called me since. Maybe he's super hung over but hmm... Whats up with that?
A. He's fucking. Sorry.
Q. Why does he seem annoyed by little things I do?
A. He wants you to leave him alone.
Q. He's descended into some sort of emotional train-wreck state, he won't talk to me, and now he's breaking up with me. I'm worried about him. What the...???
A. He had a one night stand, and is being hounded by his conscience and is trying to do the right thing because thats the standard to which he holds himself. No point in calling or worrying about it.
Q. He seems to want space, but I really want someone who is going to be there for me. What happens if I don't leave him alone?
A. He will start fucking.
Q. He's been emotionally absent for a few weeks now, and I think he might be upset about it but he doesn't really want to talk about the things that are bothering him. Am I not being open/receptive enough?
A. He may be ABD, but you are being dumped high-school style. He wants you to leave him alone and is probably fucking.
Q. He called at 6 and said he'd pick up some movies and then come by mine for movies, popcorn and a snuggle. Its 72 hours later.. where is he?
A. He got hit by a car while running across the street to buy you flowers, and died because he wants you to leave him alone because he's fucking. Theres no point in calling him or worrying about it.
A. He got hit by a car while running across the street to buy you flowers, and died. Theres no point in calling him or worrying about it.
B. He's fucking. Sorry.
C. He wants you to leave him alone.
--------------------------------------------------------
examples...
Q. Why doesn't he call?
A. He got hit by a car while running across the street to buy you flowers, and died. Theres no point in calling him or worrying about it.
Q. We had plans. Why'd he stand me up without calling?
A. He's fucking. Sorry.
Q. Why'd he cheat on me?
A. He wants you to leave him alone.
Q. He went to a party last night and hasn't called me since. Maybe he's super hung over but hmm... Whats up with that?
A. He's fucking. Sorry.
Q. Why does he seem annoyed by little things I do?
A. He wants you to leave him alone.
Q. He's descended into some sort of emotional train-wreck state, he won't talk to me, and now he's breaking up with me. I'm worried about him. What the...???
A. He had a one night stand, and is being hounded by his conscience and is trying to do the right thing because thats the standard to which he holds himself. No point in calling or worrying about it.
Q. He seems to want space, but I really want someone who is going to be there for me. What happens if I don't leave him alone?
A. He will start fucking.
Q. He's been emotionally absent for a few weeks now, and I think he might be upset about it but he doesn't really want to talk about the things that are bothering him. Am I not being open/receptive enough?
A. He may be ABD, but you are being dumped high-school style. He wants you to leave him alone and is probably fucking.
Q. He called at 6 and said he'd pick up some movies and then come by mine for movies, popcorn and a snuggle. Its 72 hours later.. where is he?
A. He got hit by a car while running across the street to buy you flowers, and died because he wants you to leave him alone because he's fucking. Theres no point in calling him or worrying about it.
Oh my god, they stole the Scream!
Wow. Someone stole the scream. AGAIN. Our banner of existential dread, our darkly comic, campy pop-icon. Makes me feel better for losing my wallet, my meds (and therefore my mind) this weekend.
"Maybe there are some sick people who would have joy hanging one or two of these paintings on the wall," Jurgesen said.
> and then we can kill them and eat their babies, yes?
"Norway is immensely proud of it. Yesterday the nation was groping to make sense of how it could be stolen -- twice.
"People are frightened and scared and they are wondering what this is and how this can go on," Jurgesen said. "The whole police [force] in Oslo are now working with this case."
> what, all 12 of them?
Jurgesen predicted the latest case of the stolen "Scream" will prompt some national soul-searching: "There must be some discussion after this in the municipality, or the police, or the museum or the art society of Norway: How can this happen?"
> Munch's Scream provokes national soul searching... appropriate.
8.20.2004
Good Morning Vietnam!
Funny how going to bed at 12 didn't help me get into work before noon. Didn't do jack last night on purpose - just chatted with WH, made dinner, did aht to see if I could make some DIY decorations for the house.
I think I got a bad batch of cigarettes. Double does of arsenic or something. They're making me feel woozy and yet I'm addicted to them still. Anyways, I don't feel well. Thought about calling in sick, but who would believe me? Not that I call in sick a lot.. I just don't show up.
Saw another accident on the way to work. I'm not sure what it is about the cross of N Decatur and Briarcliff, but theres a lot of fender benders there. Gotta make sure that its not me. And gotta change my oil.
Anyways, going to a party tonight with the BIB - whats imported underground? I've never been - and then hopefully playing catch up with this study thats been my 'work from home' excuse for the past 2 weeks. Was hoping to wear my new 4 inch stilettos with the rasberry ribbon ties, but the scrapes on my leg from breaking into BIBs house 2 wks ago haven't healed yet. Bummer. Updates on Monday.
- ATLMmim
I think I got a bad batch of cigarettes. Double does of arsenic or something. They're making me feel woozy and yet I'm addicted to them still. Anyways, I don't feel well. Thought about calling in sick, but who would believe me? Not that I call in sick a lot.. I just don't show up.
Saw another accident on the way to work. I'm not sure what it is about the cross of N Decatur and Briarcliff, but theres a lot of fender benders there. Gotta make sure that its not me. And gotta change my oil.
Anyways, going to a party tonight with the BIB - whats imported underground? I've never been - and then hopefully playing catch up with this study thats been my 'work from home' excuse for the past 2 weeks. Was hoping to wear my new 4 inch stilettos with the rasberry ribbon ties, but the scrapes on my leg from breaking into BIBs house 2 wks ago haven't healed yet. Bummer. Updates on Monday.
- ATLMmim
8.19.2004
Show Your Work
So finally got up early today - 7:45. Made it in by 9:32. Not too bad. Not sure why it takes almost 2 hrs to get here... I guess its all that playing with the cats and sipping coffee, etc. Beautiful morning though, saw some lovely little red flowers with one cute cute cute blue mutant in the mix on the walk in.
Took a coworker home for dinner last night, worked on the personal statement, talked with WH who is roaming the streets of Somerville, dodging Ivanho. Around 10:45 I msgd BIB to go to twains. He accepted, but by the time I got there, he'd changed to drinks at home. So I went to his, no one there. Went home disgruntled, wanting to tell him about Burning Womyn. Just as I was turning off all the lights and changing into PJs, he knocked on the door, white tshirt and jeans as usual.
We sat and finished off the very last of my liquor, some red wine, and chatted about our days. Teaching has him busy, and he's got 8 days to make a ton of costumes for Burning Womyn. Then I put it to him... I'm not going to BW with him because we're still ambiguously dating. He countered with visions of lots of fun and bonding, and I put it to him again.. it would be great, but its not going to happen because the conditions (emotional honesty from him, consistent accountability and self-respect from me) for us to go on a trip together just aren't there. And I asked him the overwhelming question again, oh do not ask what is it, let us go and make our visit.
So .. he said we'd talk about it again today, cuz he really wants me to go and he just needs to figure out why. We'll see. Fare prices are ticking. He tucked me in, put the mosquito net in, turned off the lights and left. Nice visit all in all.
In other news, HR tried to make me hourly yesturday. Around 5PM, just as I was getting into the swing of things, my boss stopped by. He said that while having to clock in might work for my office mate (who works all the damn time, must be here for 60 hrs a week) it wouldn't work for me - he seemed really interested in preserving my flexible hours and working from home stuff. Don't laugh too hard, I think the guilt is kicking in.
Anyways, we'll see. Made it in today within 2 standard deviations of the average worker arrival time, so thats a success. We'll see what tomorrow will bring!
Took a coworker home for dinner last night, worked on the personal statement, talked with WH who is roaming the streets of Somerville, dodging Ivanho. Around 10:45 I msgd BIB to go to twains. He accepted, but by the time I got there, he'd changed to drinks at home. So I went to his, no one there. Went home disgruntled, wanting to tell him about Burning Womyn. Just as I was turning off all the lights and changing into PJs, he knocked on the door, white tshirt and jeans as usual.
We sat and finished off the very last of my liquor, some red wine, and chatted about our days. Teaching has him busy, and he's got 8 days to make a ton of costumes for Burning Womyn. Then I put it to him... I'm not going to BW with him because we're still ambiguously dating. He countered with visions of lots of fun and bonding, and I put it to him again.. it would be great, but its not going to happen because the conditions (emotional honesty from him, consistent accountability and self-respect from me) for us to go on a trip together just aren't there. And I asked him the overwhelming question again, oh do not ask what is it, let us go and make our visit.
So .. he said we'd talk about it again today, cuz he really wants me to go and he just needs to figure out why. We'll see. Fare prices are ticking. He tucked me in, put the mosquito net in, turned off the lights and left. Nice visit all in all.
In other news, HR tried to make me hourly yesturday. Around 5PM, just as I was getting into the swing of things, my boss stopped by. He said that while having to clock in might work for my office mate (who works all the damn time, must be here for 60 hrs a week) it wouldn't work for me - he seemed really interested in preserving my flexible hours and working from home stuff. Don't laugh too hard, I think the guilt is kicking in.
Anyways, we'll see. Made it in today within 2 standard deviations of the average worker arrival time, so thats a success. We'll see what tomorrow will bring!
8.18.2004
Burning Woman
So Umbrella stoped by yesturday evening to say hi to Jack, sip some aged English Ale and enjoy good conversation. Says he's kind of having a terrible month, and for all that, seems to be reassessing the situation and looking forward to having some not terrible months next year. Overall seems to be doing OK.. fending of the ladies with some success, and thinking about NYC. Nice.
I spent the rest of the evening cleaning and sewing and msging BIB, who was drifting in and out of sleep and rock climbing. Have made 2 new miniskirts from WH's linen and sari-silk pants, as well as a nice pillowcase which handily covers the sharpie stain on the duvet cover. I'm wearing my khaki skirt and one of WH's outdoorsy fashionably frumpled collared shirts today, and its a lovely look for summer, if I do say so myself.
Jack and Shira have taken to the mosquito net on my bed - they love poking their heads into it, walking forward, getting all tangled up, tearing the shit out of it, then meowing for me to let them out. Good thing its a decorative mosquito net, I don't think it will keep a bug out ever again. I've been searching for the 10 flourescent rabbit fur mice I bought them, and for the life of me I can't find them. Its a small studio - Where could they be stashed?
So I don't think I will be going to burning man and I'm sad. It sounds like a super fun vaca and I'm sure I'd have the time of my life, but for me its a relationship-committment thing and the relationship right now doesn't support that kind of thing - I'll just feel anxious and overextended.
Not expecting this to go over well and I expect its probably the first step in phasing down expectations of whats going to happen between me and the BIB. Or he could call my bluff and shape up some more, which would probably make me more anxious than ever.
Anyways, I should think of a backup vacation. Maybe I will go to greece and visit Antonia, for once and for all. The islands should empty out in a month.. we'll see.
In other news, I didn't get into work until 1PM today, even though I went to bed early and ate dinner and did all the appropriate go to bed rituals and DIDNT drink (much) or go to karaoke till all hours with Umbrella and Tia and Jen and BIB. On the plus side, my boss is fighting a move to make me hourly and having me clock in, which HR is trying to do to all us salaried workers due to changes in FCLA regulations. And he recommended me for a merit raise. I guess the message is that he supports me having irregular hours, working from home, coffee shops, outside on the patio with the MBAs, etc, as long as I manage it well and keep faculty happy. I guess thats what I want, I just wish I had a little more self-discipline over when I get into work in this absence of external structure.
Ciao,
Ms. Bling in the ATL
I spent the rest of the evening cleaning and sewing and msging BIB, who was drifting in and out of sleep and rock climbing. Have made 2 new miniskirts from WH's linen and sari-silk pants, as well as a nice pillowcase which handily covers the sharpie stain on the duvet cover. I'm wearing my khaki skirt and one of WH's outdoorsy fashionably frumpled collared shirts today, and its a lovely look for summer, if I do say so myself.
Jack and Shira have taken to the mosquito net on my bed - they love poking their heads into it, walking forward, getting all tangled up, tearing the shit out of it, then meowing for me to let them out. Good thing its a decorative mosquito net, I don't think it will keep a bug out ever again. I've been searching for the 10 flourescent rabbit fur mice I bought them, and for the life of me I can't find them. Its a small studio - Where could they be stashed?
So I don't think I will be going to burning man and I'm sad. It sounds like a super fun vaca and I'm sure I'd have the time of my life, but for me its a relationship-committment thing and the relationship right now doesn't support that kind of thing - I'll just feel anxious and overextended.
Not expecting this to go over well and I expect its probably the first step in phasing down expectations of whats going to happen between me and the BIB. Or he could call my bluff and shape up some more, which would probably make me more anxious than ever.
Anyways, I should think of a backup vacation. Maybe I will go to greece and visit Antonia, for once and for all. The islands should empty out in a month.. we'll see.
In other news, I didn't get into work until 1PM today, even though I went to bed early and ate dinner and did all the appropriate go to bed rituals and DIDNT drink (much) or go to karaoke till all hours with Umbrella and Tia and Jen and BIB. On the plus side, my boss is fighting a move to make me hourly and having me clock in, which HR is trying to do to all us salaried workers due to changes in FCLA regulations. And he recommended me for a merit raise. I guess the message is that he supports me having irregular hours, working from home, coffee shops, outside on the patio with the MBAs, etc, as long as I manage it well and keep faculty happy. I guess thats what I want, I just wish I had a little more self-discipline over when I get into work in this absence of external structure.
Ciao,
Ms. Bling in the ATL
8.17.2004
The Perfect Hipster Accessory
8.16.2004
If I go I won't be lonely
So shot some pool with the BIB last night, then hung out at mine with sister and GIG for PBJ sandwiches. Fun times in the ATL.
BIBs half talked me into going to burning man with him and, you know, it does sound like fun. If only he didn't make me so anxious so I could relax and enjoy the insanity.
Anyways, his sell is that it will be a nice time. If he goes alone, he will spend a lot of time alone on the playa. If I go with him, we will explore together and spend a week wandering the desert.
I pressured him to talk about 'us' and he was real good about thinking about himself, or worrying about me, but when asked about what the hell we're doing together, or how he feels about me, he comes up blank. No word yet on why exactly he fucked around, why he fucked around in a way calculated to do the most damage, and what has changed so that he won't do it again.
I think I will put it to him that I need an answer on that. God, I'm such a pussy.
In other news, works going ok, and if I do take a vacation in 2 weeks thats a kick in the but to get a shitload of stuff done and stop spending so much money on beer and cigarettes. Correction, tequila and cigarettes.
BIBs half talked me into going to burning man with him and, you know, it does sound like fun. If only he didn't make me so anxious so I could relax and enjoy the insanity.
Anyways, his sell is that it will be a nice time. If he goes alone, he will spend a lot of time alone on the playa. If I go with him, we will explore together and spend a week wandering the desert.
I pressured him to talk about 'us' and he was real good about thinking about himself, or worrying about me, but when asked about what the hell we're doing together, or how he feels about me, he comes up blank. No word yet on why exactly he fucked around, why he fucked around in a way calculated to do the most damage, and what has changed so that he won't do it again.
I think I will put it to him that I need an answer on that. God, I'm such a pussy.
In other news, works going ok, and if I do take a vacation in 2 weeks thats a kick in the but to get a shitload of stuff done and stop spending so much money on beer and cigarettes. Correction, tequila and cigarettes.
What did you think Miss Kitten was doing on the road?
So I think I'm going a little bit nutty. Lots of guests in town, had a jam packed weekend of BIB, sister, sister's Good-Idea-Gnat (GIG), BIBs NYC friends, hiking, gourmet beer, shopping, spinning, cooking, eating.
I am, however, one guest short. My lil' bro apparently flew to Orlando last week, then drove back to Boston. My sister was in Orlando last week, and I live in (you guessed it) ATL. In fact, I left him a voice mail on Saturday saying what the ? and he never returned that call EITHER. Maybe its because I didn't get him a birthday present this year. Well, maybe I'll do something now - better let than never. Frog has helpfully suggested that I buy him a map of Atlanta.
Anyways, currently working on a transcription project for which the price to beat is $3K. I'm thinking of giving it to some grad students for $1.5K. That makes me happy, they will like the work and the money. Little windfall. Just have to work up a quote.
Feels like the weekend will not end. Mentally, I'm still there, which makes it difficult to look my coworkers in the eye. BIB called last minute last night, said he was going to hang out with the burning man crew, so we went. I had fun, talked with a lot of folks. Got the official invite to join BIBs camp at burning man, but its two weeks away and a few hundred dollars so don't think I'll make it. Plus I'm nervous about this weirdo relationship and the increasingly strange locales in which it plays out. I have that feeling that well - if it doesn't work out, at least it will make a very funny story a few years down the road. Problem is, I already have lots of funny stories from up the road. I don't want any more, I want a honey.
Anyways, they had a swing there, and lots of fun movable sculptures, and a table, and fun ppl to talk with. And a forklift, which I played with a little bit. As new guests they asked me to move sculptures across the warehouse, to which I replied "I'm unionized!" ha ha ha. They're super-boys, easy to amuse, disposable, replacable, lots of turnover. They remind me of those boy clicques in high school I never hung out with. Something about the interaction is highly enjoyable but lacking substance. Take it, or leave it?
I am, however, one guest short. My lil' bro apparently flew to Orlando last week, then drove back to Boston. My sister was in Orlando last week, and I live in (you guessed it) ATL. In fact, I left him a voice mail on Saturday saying what the ? and he never returned that call EITHER. Maybe its because I didn't get him a birthday present this year. Well, maybe I'll do something now - better let than never. Frog has helpfully suggested that I buy him a map of Atlanta.
Anyways, currently working on a transcription project for which the price to beat is $3K. I'm thinking of giving it to some grad students for $1.5K. That makes me happy, they will like the work and the money. Little windfall. Just have to work up a quote.
Feels like the weekend will not end. Mentally, I'm still there, which makes it difficult to look my coworkers in the eye. BIB called last minute last night, said he was going to hang out with the burning man crew, so we went. I had fun, talked with a lot of folks. Got the official invite to join BIBs camp at burning man, but its two weeks away and a few hundred dollars so don't think I'll make it. Plus I'm nervous about this weirdo relationship and the increasingly strange locales in which it plays out. I have that feeling that well - if it doesn't work out, at least it will make a very funny story a few years down the road. Problem is, I already have lots of funny stories from up the road. I don't want any more, I want a honey.
Anyways, they had a swing there, and lots of fun movable sculptures, and a table, and fun ppl to talk with. And a forklift, which I played with a little bit. As new guests they asked me to move sculptures across the warehouse, to which I replied "I'm unionized!" ha ha ha. They're super-boys, easy to amuse, disposable, replacable, lots of turnover. They remind me of those boy clicques in high school I never hung out with. Something about the interaction is highly enjoyable but lacking substance. Take it, or leave it?
8.13.2004
fire me, fail me, dump me
Todays Friday and its a day of reckoning I suppose. This week I:
- helped a friend leave town,
- hosted my sister,
- did two 300 piece mailings,
- got quotes for transcription companies,
- submitted 3 IRB applications.
And slept a lot. Still need to clean, do some home improvement projects.
Think I might be in trouble on a few projects at work, ugh. I guess I've been cutting a few corners and its not quite the quality one should expect. Sometimes it seems like everything is going to be OK and sometimes it doesn't. We'll see what the fallout is in the end.8.12.2004
You Had Me From Shalom
Yawn.
I've given up on work.
Its 12:15.
I'll put in a few more hours, take some work home with me, go shopping with my sister, hang out with the skitzofrenic cousins for a few hours, go to bed.
Last night had dinner with Umbrella, BIB, Pauk, sister, and WH. Everyone was dead. Dead tired. Its the cold weather from the north followed by the penubra of the hurricane blowing over - makes us think of fall, makes us tired. Dunno why Umbrella is so absent these few weeks. I think he formally warned me that he would be absent in late summer and here I am taking it personally anyways. I started to tell Umbrella my petty theivery story - the hospitality principle vs. EatheRich principle, but didn't get too far. Haven't worked it out in my head.
Tomorrow, BIB's friends A& are coming to town. As far as I can tell, BIB hasn't slept all week - maybe an hour or two. I wonder what thats all about. I was kinda curious so I told him I'd stop by after helping WH clean, prob to sleep. He wasn't opening the door at 2:30 (I HATE locked doors) so I climbed up the wall onto the roof and in the window, scraped up my leg too. B walked in as I jimmied the window open and said, "can you stop doing that?" I guess thats a boundary I should respect, a reasonable request, etc. etc. What can I say, I was born in a country without walls. Literally.
I keep buying all this cocoa butter in the hopes of healing myself, but unfortunately I cut/scrape/burn myself faster than I can heal, and all the cocoa butter, aloe, and vitamin E in the world can't change that. Maybe when I'm rich, I can buy some new skin, some new limbs, straighten & stripe my hair, implant my lips.
BIB was working when I broke in, had the TV and the radio going. No insights forthcoming, not that I dug, I just bled on his couch and then tried to go to sleep. But couldn't so around 4 I left. Got up at 8AM, conned my sister into doing some take home work, then drove in to the office to make an appearance.
Too tired to write much. Wild Honeys leaving today, said sayonara last night. I hope she has a good and safe drive. Gonna miss that girl.
I've given up on work.
Its 12:15.
I'll put in a few more hours, take some work home with me, go shopping with my sister, hang out with the skitzofrenic cousins for a few hours, go to bed.
Last night had dinner with Umbrella, BIB, Pauk, sister, and WH. Everyone was dead. Dead tired. Its the cold weather from the north followed by the penubra of the hurricane blowing over - makes us think of fall, makes us tired. Dunno why Umbrella is so absent these few weeks. I think he formally warned me that he would be absent in late summer and here I am taking it personally anyways. I started to tell Umbrella my petty theivery story - the hospitality principle vs. EatheRich principle, but didn't get too far. Haven't worked it out in my head.
Tomorrow, BIB's friends A& are coming to town. As far as I can tell, BIB hasn't slept all week - maybe an hour or two. I wonder what thats all about. I was kinda curious so I told him I'd stop by after helping WH clean, prob to sleep. He wasn't opening the door at 2:30 (I HATE locked doors) so I climbed up the wall onto the roof and in the window, scraped up my leg too. B walked in as I jimmied the window open and said, "can you stop doing that?" I guess thats a boundary I should respect, a reasonable request, etc. etc. What can I say, I was born in a country without walls. Literally.
I keep buying all this cocoa butter in the hopes of healing myself, but unfortunately I cut/scrape/burn myself faster than I can heal, and all the cocoa butter, aloe, and vitamin E in the world can't change that. Maybe when I'm rich, I can buy some new skin, some new limbs, straighten & stripe my hair, implant my lips.
BIB was working when I broke in, had the TV and the radio going. No insights forthcoming, not that I dug, I just bled on his couch and then tried to go to sleep. But couldn't so around 4 I left. Got up at 8AM, conned my sister into doing some take home work, then drove in to the office to make an appearance.
Too tired to write much. Wild Honeys leaving today, said sayonara last night. I hope she has a good and safe drive. Gonna miss that girl.
8.11.2004
1:07 PM
so here I am at work, 1:07 PM. Stayed at the clairmont last night til closing. Those people are embarrassingly drunk, its too easy to choke back Margaritas until you're slipping into foolishness yourself.
Slept on the new bed last night, its fantastic.
Didn't get my dads call this morning and I'm wondering if I should call this week a wash. I didn't come in on Monday, came in from 10 - 4 on Tuesday, and stumbled in at 1:07 today. This is a joke. I feel like my friend Guthrie, who never used to go to work in NYC because he hated NYC... finally got a job in a town he was suited for, living happily ever after in Woods Hole ever since.
Oh well. Time to put stickers on little pieces of paper.
Slept on the new bed last night, its fantastic.
Didn't get my dads call this morning and I'm wondering if I should call this week a wash. I didn't come in on Monday, came in from 10 - 4 on Tuesday, and stumbled in at 1:07 today. This is a joke. I feel like my friend Guthrie, who never used to go to work in NYC because he hated NYC... finally got a job in a town he was suited for, living happily ever after in Woods Hole ever since.
Oh well. Time to put stickers on little pieces of paper.
8.06.2004
race in the workplace
So that tech guy I just dressed down? He got fired 30 minutes later. And he's black. I think everyone thinks I ratted him out. And I feel guilty, because I know that theres a double standard here. My shit does not smell like roses, but I know how to act because I know how to act. And I'm not gonna get fired or even reprimanded because I'm not black, because I'm educated, because because because.
Its not fair.
Its not fair.
Amy downstairs has a nice bootie
I just gave one of the tech guys at work a dressing down. He's always telling women around the office they have nice legs, etc. Last night he was doing it to one of the Emory students who work the computer lab after hours. So today I asked him why he's so eager to hand his job over on a silver platter to anything with breasts, and doesn't he know that the cardinal rule of working is 'Never give your boss the tools to fire you with.' Not that I'm gonna turn him in, but jeez thats stupid.
Idiot didn't get the drift. Thought I was being 'uptight'. Some folks never learn.
Idiot didn't get the drift. Thought I was being 'uptight'. Some folks never learn.
8.05.2004
merit raise
Argh! So I had my performance evaluation and my boss said im great, merit raise, get out of here you're wasting my time. So I went home and napped for the rest of the afternoon and then I didn't come in today until 3:16 PM. Which is bad because I've got an experiment to run at 6:30 and I haven't created any of the materials yet.
Wish me luck.
Wish me luck.
8.04.2004
Goodbye Patricide
So I said goodbye to my Aunt Ula last night. She's the oldest sister of my mothers family. We had a Maine feast - my cousin cooked lobster, mussels, deep fried cod, salmon with dill, and we ate with our hands and cracked open the lobster claws with a chefs knife and dipped it in cups of melted butter. Yum.
My aunt said a little thankyou and grace in Samoan in the beginning of the meal, and we called my mother and the oldest son of the older generation after dinner. Harry is a schemer and sketchy, like my grandad. He always sounds tired and irritated while he says sweet things, and he makes lots of promises. He told me he'd send a CD of photos and video from our last family reunion, when we disinterred my grandfather from his resting place in the living room floor of the old Lee house, and reburied him in a homemade concrete tomb in the backyard. I told Harry I was lookforward to getting the photos. Shades of Abu Ghraib; I have pictures of Harry giving a thumbs up sign and grinning over a box containing his fathers remains.
It was great seeing Ula. She is turning into the kalofai older generation; the sweet, emotional, wise elder who helps the young folks take care of their first child, and resolves family quarrels in a way that reminds me of a grand master shifting a rook in on the back row, reinforcing the pawns dying in the center. Her oldest son, Peter, eloped with my cousin Nettie in 2000. The way Ula handled her son's incestuous relationship was to buy a new house; create a new space that was clean of memories, and then slowly pressure the 2 children to come back from the outside and move back to the new house. Strange, but it worked. There were a lot of fistfights etc. involved as everyone in the extended clan took sides. Ula resisted a lot of pressure to ostracise the two of them. I don't know what Grandma, the true matriarch, did; perhaps she was shielded from this bad news. Anyways, Peter and Nettie are no longer, though they still sneak off to the movies etc, and who knows what will happen. Peters working as a criminal defense lawyer in southern auckland, getting us Samoans out of scrapes with the law. He's still the old Peter though; when I took him out last week, he insisted that we both drink lots, then take a cab back to my place. He kept conversation up late into the night, until at one point he mumbled that if he was going to do something stupid, he should have done it with me. What a family.
Anyhow, seeing Auntie Ula was great, and I felt terrible for being such a palagi and not doing more of the Fa'a Samoa - sending a suitcase of cheap gifts with her back to NZ. Her son in law is a joy to be around, but I am a little worried that he is a serial killer or something. He told me last night that his stepfather killed himself and framed him for it; and hes currently enmeshed in a lawsuit over the money he inherited from a man he calls 'Dads'. I don't know too much about dads, except that he is Vincents adopted dad, and that the man was wealthy. Dads's bio-kids are fighting his will, and accusing Vincent of murdering him. Seems strange to me that a man would have two false accusations of patricide in his past... does that seem strange to you?
Anyhow, Vincents ingratiating himself with the family just fine. Doesn't hurt that he is white, and that his shares his christian name with my grandfather, who is the spiritual guide of the family. My grandmother Toilalo actually spoke to Vincent in English, which I don't believe has ever happened before. Toilalo likes to pretend that she doesn't speak English so she can mysteriously know everything that is going on. In dire circumstances, like when she was staying with me after her eye surgery, she will bust out with a few phrases. Toilalo is kind of like queen Elizabeth; she runs the show with the baby boomers. She's beat up every single one of her son-in-laws except my dad. So Vincents got her blessing, and I guess he's here to stay. He can swap patricidal fantasies with Uncle Harry, I suppose.
Long blog, I'll stop. I love my family and they are sweet sweet people, very human. But the kinds of pathologies they are willing to let drop; well.. its the stuff that only comes out in dreams this side of the pacific.
My aunt said a little thankyou and grace in Samoan in the beginning of the meal, and we called my mother and the oldest son of the older generation after dinner. Harry is a schemer and sketchy, like my grandad. He always sounds tired and irritated while he says sweet things, and he makes lots of promises. He told me he'd send a CD of photos and video from our last family reunion, when we disinterred my grandfather from his resting place in the living room floor of the old Lee house, and reburied him in a homemade concrete tomb in the backyard. I told Harry I was lookforward to getting the photos. Shades of Abu Ghraib; I have pictures of Harry giving a thumbs up sign and grinning over a box containing his fathers remains.
It was great seeing Ula. She is turning into the kalofai older generation; the sweet, emotional, wise elder who helps the young folks take care of their first child, and resolves family quarrels in a way that reminds me of a grand master shifting a rook in on the back row, reinforcing the pawns dying in the center. Her oldest son, Peter, eloped with my cousin Nettie in 2000. The way Ula handled her son's incestuous relationship was to buy a new house; create a new space that was clean of memories, and then slowly pressure the 2 children to come back from the outside and move back to the new house. Strange, but it worked. There were a lot of fistfights etc. involved as everyone in the extended clan took sides. Ula resisted a lot of pressure to ostracise the two of them. I don't know what Grandma, the true matriarch, did; perhaps she was shielded from this bad news. Anyways, Peter and Nettie are no longer, though they still sneak off to the movies etc, and who knows what will happen. Peters working as a criminal defense lawyer in southern auckland, getting us Samoans out of scrapes with the law. He's still the old Peter though; when I took him out last week, he insisted that we both drink lots, then take a cab back to my place. He kept conversation up late into the night, until at one point he mumbled that if he was going to do something stupid, he should have done it with me. What a family.
Anyhow, seeing Auntie Ula was great, and I felt terrible for being such a palagi and not doing more of the Fa'a Samoa - sending a suitcase of cheap gifts with her back to NZ. Her son in law is a joy to be around, but I am a little worried that he is a serial killer or something. He told me last night that his stepfather killed himself and framed him for it; and hes currently enmeshed in a lawsuit over the money he inherited from a man he calls 'Dads'. I don't know too much about dads, except that he is Vincents adopted dad, and that the man was wealthy. Dads's bio-kids are fighting his will, and accusing Vincent of murdering him. Seems strange to me that a man would have two false accusations of patricide in his past... does that seem strange to you?
Anyhow, Vincents ingratiating himself with the family just fine. Doesn't hurt that he is white, and that his shares his christian name with my grandfather, who is the spiritual guide of the family. My grandmother Toilalo actually spoke to Vincent in English, which I don't believe has ever happened before. Toilalo likes to pretend that she doesn't speak English so she can mysteriously know everything that is going on. In dire circumstances, like when she was staying with me after her eye surgery, she will bust out with a few phrases. Toilalo is kind of like queen Elizabeth; she runs the show with the baby boomers. She's beat up every single one of her son-in-laws except my dad. So Vincents got her blessing, and I guess he's here to stay. He can swap patricidal fantasies with Uncle Harry, I suppose.
Long blog, I'll stop. I love my family and they are sweet sweet people, very human. But the kinds of pathologies they are willing to let drop; well.. its the stuff that only comes out in dreams this side of the pacific.
8.03.2004
tell him to buy an acre of land
Umbrella won't join in any of my reindeer games. He considers blogs 'ridiculous.' Karaoke - it offends the dignity of a man. Games, most games of any sort, like battleship, chess, checkers and cards, are childlike and unbecoming a man of a certain age. By certain age I mean 26.
And yet in, mid-day, with families milling around, he will squirt Bojangles in the face with a water gun and call him a "bad, nasty, naughty boy."
I think its not dignity he is preserving, he just doesn't think anything I do is fun.
-----Original Message-----
From: Umbrella [mailto:umbrella@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 2:21 PM
To: ATLMmim_@
Subject: RE: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
Mmim, a man has to maintain some sense of dignity.
-----Original Message-----
From: ATLMmim [mailto:ATLMmim_@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 2:18 PM
To: Umbrella
Subject: RE: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
what do you consider karaoke?
-----Original Message-----
From: Umbrella [mailto:umbrella@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 2:14 PM
To: ATLMmim_@
Subject: RE: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
You know how I feel about karaoke.
-----Original Message-----
From: ATLMmim [mailto:ATLMmim_@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 1:12 PM
To: Umbrella
Subject: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
clairmont karaoke 10PM.
And yet in, mid-day, with families milling around, he will squirt Bojangles in the face with a water gun and call him a "bad, nasty, naughty boy."
I think its not dignity he is preserving, he just doesn't think anything I do is fun.
-----Original Message-----
From: Umbrella [mailto:umbrella@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 2:21 PM
To: ATLMmim_@
Subject: RE: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
Mmim, a man has to maintain some sense of dignity.
-----Original Message-----
From: ATLMmim [mailto:ATLMmim_@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 2:18 PM
To: Umbrella
Subject: RE: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
what do you consider karaoke?
-----Original Message-----
From: Umbrella [mailto:umbrella@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 2:14 PM
To: ATLMmim_@
Subject: RE: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
You know how I feel about karaoke.
-----Original Message-----
From: ATLMmim [mailto:ATLMmim_@]
Sent: Tuesday, August 03, 2004 1:12 PM
To: Umbrella
Subject: whatcha gonna do when you get out of jail?
clairmont karaoke 10PM.
8.02.2004
GEICO Auto Insurance
GEICO Auto Insurance keeps e-mailing me. I signed up for their insurance 2 months ago, then decided I couldn't be bothered to change the title on my sisters car and get a GA license. I actually made it down to the DMV on Moreland ave, but the scene was remniscent of a hospital in Samoa - millions of people sitting around, fanning themselves, with all their family there for company - except I didn't know anyone so it was boring. I stopped next door at a cheapo ATL Bling Bling shoe store, where the shoes were arranged in aisles by price - $6 shoes, $10 shoes, and then the nice aisle, $12 shoes. Ended up not buying anything or going back to the DMV, and signing up for progressive when GEICO cancelled my insurance. They sent me a statement every day that gave a different balance (like the shoe shop, always between 6 and 12 dollars) and also a check for $3 and change. Now they're emailing me at work. Should I bother responding or should I wait a few months until they figure out whether I owe them 3 dollars or they owe me.
WH finally did her safe sex demonstration by the pool on Saturday with a bottle of oyster sauce and some special Haitian condoms. Not sure what to do with the BIB. We are finally taking a few steps back to regroup. Goffman writes about presentation of self and interaction rituals.. and I just wish relationships were 'treat others as you would treat yourself' and people would naturally respond. Or 'I'll see what you're made of by what you make of me.' Like there is a proper separation between yourself and the other party, not that you are constantly creating each other in your interaction. I don't like that idea. Maybe thats why my cats won't listen to me when I tell them politely to get off the table.
WH finally did her safe sex demonstration by the pool on Saturday with a bottle of oyster sauce and some special Haitian condoms. Not sure what to do with the BIB. We are finally taking a few steps back to regroup. Goffman writes about presentation of self and interaction rituals.. and I just wish relationships were 'treat others as you would treat yourself' and people would naturally respond. Or 'I'll see what you're made of by what you make of me.' Like there is a proper separation between yourself and the other party, not that you are constantly creating each other in your interaction. I don't like that idea. Maybe thats why my cats won't listen to me when I tell them politely to get off the table.
