is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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Relaxed, OK?
Relaxed, OK?
Tonight I was having drinks with Liz, Sunny, Leisa, Evany and Caroleen at The Phone Booth, when Sunny asked me if I was OK. And earlier today Julie emailed me to ask whether I was OK. Somehow I do not seem to be like myself, like maybe I am possibly depressed, or something is bothering me? This is the kind of questioning I've been getting from all over lately. So it made me think, hey, am I maybe depressed and I don't even know it?! Etc. So when I was voicing that question at The Phone Booth, Evany said (in a funny, slightly bored tone), "No, Jill, you are not depressed. It's Amherst. You are just more relaxed than usual." Ha. And I think she's right. (And she would know. I've seen her every day since I got home, sometimes more than once a day!) I just don't have the same city-ish energy currently, due to the existence I am living wherein the most exciting things that happen to me are chasing wild turkeys around the backyard and drinking bourbon with wine-and-ice-cream political scientist. Don't get me wrong�those are both activities I very much enjoy. But they are not frenetic, nor challenging, nor are they competing with a huge roster of other activities and commitments. I am RELAXED.
That may change soon, if I get any academic job interviews. But the future is unknown. The present is RELAXED.
Last night Evany and I went to Berkeley to see John Prendergast speak at the School of Journalism about the genocide in Sudan. His talk was very good. He knows what he's talking about, is a good speaker, handles an audience well, and has a coherent message. Evany thought he could have been more straightforward, or given more background, whereas I thought he did a really good job, but that is probably because he's talking about stuff in a field I've studied. Anyway, Dave Eggers introduced him as a speaker, and after the talk (and a slightly uncomfortable question and answer session during which chairs squeaked and an assortment of socialized human beings and wackjobs asked questions), we talked to Mr. Prendergast for awhile before going off to eat American Food with Dave. Turns out, not only is he smart and kind, he is a Good Man. The extent of the goodness he engages in on a daily basis is enough to make anyone feel like maybe the human race is not such a bad thing. He has worked for twenty years on conflict resolution in Africa and is still involved the Big Brother program here in the U.S. In fact he was going to work with children as a career until, in his words, his world was transformed by famine in Ethiopia. So he's worked for the Clinton Administration and for the National Security Council on African affairs. Plus he has a sense of humor, and seems to be a happy well-adjusted individual. How are such things possible?
Then Evany, Dave and I had food at Bongo Burger. We were all so hungry that we were either panicked (Evany) or headachy (me) or distracted (Dave), so when the food first came all we could do was talk about how good it was to have food, and to put it in our mouths. Then we talked about Prendergast, journalism, teaching, McSweeney's, flirting, Amherst, and how to apply the editing advice CDB ("could do better") to the larger non-written world. We also each contributed to an impromptu rendition of Paul Hardcastle's "19." You know. Ni-ni-ni-Nineteen Ni-nineteen.
11:16 p.m. - November 23, 2004
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