is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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Identity.
Identity.
There are many mirrors in my small apartment, and I don't spend very much time looking in them. Rather, they function to make the apartment look larger than it is. Nonetheless, every now and then as I am walking by one of them I'll catch a view of myself and I'll have to stop and look and wonder: WHO AM I?! What I mean is, who am I in Amherst, Massachusetts? I don't think I know.
But first, photo of Adam and August!
And now back to me.
Am I really a professor at a small private New England college? Is this my life? Clearly, it presently is my life. But is it a good life? Of course it is on some levels. But what does it mean if I am abstracted from all the things that normally give my live meaning? I don't know.
Didn't I recently write a long article about how identity is always fractured? Is this what I meant? (No, it is not. But maybe I need to think more about what it means to be WHO I AM! Ha. That's right. I need to think MORE about that. Because clearly I don't spend enough time thinking about miniscule things.)
(Yes, It's only week three in Amherst. How could I feel settled yet? But still. TIRED! Socially Challenged! Also: BROKE!)
There is a much longer story to the tired/socially-challenged aspect of all this, but it is not diary material. I recently described it over the telephone to Evany, and to Mr. Perrone. Mr. Perrone offered one of his classic practical solutions in the form of: soon it will be snowing and no one will expect you to go anywhere. Ha.
Eric has warned me that he is afraid of "the fever." By which he means cabin fever. I guess things really do stop happening here once the snow freezes everything. Eric is currently working at his own feverish pace because parts of his house in Ashfield don't even have windows yet.
Check out my cute room in Adam's Claverack house, with view of pretty leaf-changing acreage and a pond where geese stop on their way south:
My descriptions of fitting or not fitting into Amherst are to be taken with huge grains of sodium-rich material. Because this is far from a sad and alienating situation I've found myself in. There are people all over the place who have known me for years, either professionally or as a friend. I rarely enter the faculty dining room without seeing someone I would like to sit with already there. The class I'm teaching is going well. The students are good, and most of them are attentive and seem to have done their reading. They make interesting contributions to discussion. Plus, it is beautiful here, and I am a short-ish drive away from lots of people of whom I am fond.
But right now I have been working all day, it is about 3:15, and I would really like to be able to call someone and say, "let's go out to dinner." And I would like that dinner to be comfortable and fun, not me trying hard to be sufficiently social and entertaining.
Anyway. Amherst: not like San Francisco.
Case in point� Caroleen sent me a hilarious email. Here is part of it: " it's hothothot here. gotta be hot for the folsom st fair. the leather captains are in full effect, fyi. I'm sure it's the same in amherst. the main thoroughfare bustin with assless chaps and chest harnesses. sorry to bore."
Ha. Ha ha ha ha. Ha ha ha ha ha!
Evany called yesterday, saving me from my then-current predicament of knowing I should be working but instead laying on the couch paralyzed with "what is the meaning of it all!" thoughts. Turns out she will be HERE for a few days while I am in SAN FRANCISCO. Funny. But perhaps she will use ye olde Joseph Smith house as a hotel?
Amherst excitement: tomorrow they begin power washing the house in preparation for a new paint job. Also: I found a liquor store and bought an expensive bottle of bourbon.
And I really don't have all that much time on my hands. This is actually the first weekend day I have ever spent in this apartment. I've been to NYC, Albany, and yesterday I woke up in Claverack, NY, with my cousin Adam, his wife Kate and my 6 month old nephew August! (If you are about to tell me that my cousin's child is not my nephew, STOP BEING MY MOM.)
On Friday night in Claverack I proved I could make an impromptu apple pie without recipe and in a strange kitchen. Forgot to put a pinch of salt in the crust, which does make a difference, but the pie was still very tasty.
When Adam and I went to the rural gourmet grocery store to get some food, we stepped into a place where we truly belonged: the cool room. Actually, it is a very very cold room full of cheese, fish and produce. Adam picked out five fancy cheeses. I chose a slab of tuna for him to grill. We got some hearts of romaine. Then I said, "Damn, it's freezing in here." Adam replied, "Brrr. Brrrr. Must be Toros in the room!" Which is a quote from the cheerleading movie Bring It On! My cousin! Always busting out the strangest but most perfect of jokes.
9:10 p.m. - September 25, 2004
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