is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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Bodies as Heavy and Light, and No, I�m not saying you�re fat.
Moving is hard. I haven�t been getting much work done, what with the chaos, and also the mental labor it takes to work through packing up all one�s belongings while deciding what one can afford to get rid of in the move from huge apartment to moderate-sized (though huge for new york) apartment.
The phrase "mental labor" makes me pause here for a moment of truly specialized humor: here is what Levinas says in Otherwise than Being about Hegel�s idea of subjectivity: �The multiplicity of unique subjects, entities immediately empirically encountered, would proceed from this universal self-consciousness of the Mind: bits of dust collected by its movement or drops of sweat glistening on its forehead because of the labor of the negative it will have accomplished.� That makes me laugh, out loud, every time I read it.
Sorry.
I�m supposed to be working on manuscript-editing for one of my mentors, who recently checked in with me, and who offered up the suggestion that moving is one of the greatest reminders of human mortality. I tend to think that it is men who are obsessed with mortality much more than women, but then again what is a man? (by which I mean gender is a social construction anyway�) Aging also reminds one of one�s mortality, on a fairly constant basis, and moving while aging is a compound fracture wherein one�s back hurts at the same time one�s brain and heart hurt, and then one isn�t quite sure whether one�s intestines are fomenting revolution because of something one ate, or because of the mental and emotional turmoil caused by the disruption embodied (um, literally) in moving house!
I�m also supposed to be editing essays for that edited volume on Nietzsche and Levinas I�m doing (with a colleague) for Columbia University Press. At least I did a few hours of organizational work on that yesterday morning. And then there�s my �book.� Ugh.
So that�s how things are. Also, I don�t have a cat. Though I do have a Gus, and Gus has a Thurgood, and all that is very very handsome and good. Of course that leads me directly to the part about the intestines because thoughts of Gus and Thurgood are inevitably attached to thoughts about soon living in a city that is not the same city where they live. You see what I mean?
Anyway, yesterday the Humanities Center here had a little reception to bid farewell to me, and to two other people departing from QB. It was nice, in that tiny QB way where there wasn�t as much food there as you would expect (though it was tastier than usual) and it was held in a room that feels like a large elevator because it lacks windows. Also, the party was thrown and the speech given by someone who isn�t all that fond of me, so there was a notable drop in enthusiasm when it came time to say things about me and hand me my gift (Veuve Clicquot and Godiva chocolates, no complaints) (except that apparently I really am a chocolate snob because Godiva causes no excitement in me at all) (though I really will eat them all. I really will).
The party was nice mostly because many of the people who came are the very people who have made my time at QB what it has been: really wonderful. I am going to miss being here, and not a little, not because I feel any love for Philadelphia�s affluent suburbs, but because the students and colleagues I�ve had are so wonderful, and also because this campus is so beautiful and serene and I feel attached to it and its cute animals more than anything else, for some reason. Perhaps it�s because the other things�colleagues, friends�can be brought to other places but the campus stays here.
Gus and I took a short walk after the reception before parting ways to get back to our works, and it was a perfect early evening when the light breeze is the same temperature as the still air which is in turn roughly the same temperature as human skin. I had a semi-flowy dress on, which makes such breezes doubly better. Then as I walked home I took off my heels and walked barefoot across the newly mown cricket field, and I had had just enough Prosecco to make my enjoyment of that, paired with a deep appreciation for the Magnetic Fields song �I Don�t Believe in the Sun� (which suggested itself into my ears via the shuffle function on my Ipod), that kind of almost-drunk transcendent-type experience of loving living in a body. It�s good to have those sometimes, because a body is the only place we live.
I put my shoes back on before crossing the campus green (aka Duckshit Alley) over to my house.
11:00 a.m. - May 16, 2007
nola - 2007-05-17 21:40:33
Sorry you didn't like the chocolates. At least you got some, plus a goodbye party, and booze, and some statements in your honor. Isn't that better than being told simply to drop off your key at the front desk on your way out?
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majortominor - 2007-05-18 14:43:41
you also got to make a snarky comment about the chocolates.
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jill - 2007-05-18 16:16:37
ha. sorry to sound like an ingrate. but here's what was said about me: after an almost tearful send-off to someone else, the speaker turns to me and says "and jill's going off to have sex in the city." no mention of my new job or that i'm moving to new york or anything. and i'm in a gathering of colleagues? i'm having sex in the city? i'm the loose woman instead of the tenure-track colleague? and then later when i get handed the champagne, here's what gets said: "you can save the rotgut for the human pyramids!" (a reference to my excellent 40th bday party). those are the only two things said to me. so, yeah, i felt snarky. but i also got chocolate and champagne. all good.
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