is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.

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Rubber, Glue, and how to pronounce, spell, and cook �potatoe.�

Lately I keep writing things and then not posting them, because I�m not sure they need to be said, or that what I�ve written is in finished form. For instance, I have a number of entries written, in a quasi-phenomenological style, about what it means to be �hot��i.e., how is it possible to �feel� �hot��and about existential as opposed to situational loneliness, the light and dark sides of all that. Maybe sometime soon. We�ll see. But today let�s just talk about the strange controversy of me going off to have sex in the city! Man, who knew? Sometimes it can be illuminating to see how I look in others� eyes, and I guess this is my week for that. If one fictional character named Miranda Hobbes (a character on Sex and the City, no less!) thinks I�m a diva and so on (as stated in comments, yesterday), then odds are others think that too. And that�s just fine.

For the record, it seems to me that of all the things I�ve ever said about Quaker Bubble, 98% of them are resoundingly positive: it is beautiful, inspiring, quietly lovely; I love living here; I love the students, they work hard and have taught me so much; I love the colleagues I�ve gotten to know, who have engaged me in great conversation and helped me with the work I�m doing; I appreciate the consensus approach to governance, not to mention all the support I�ve had while I�ve been here, and so on. These are the things I think and the things I say when asked about QB. Nothing I say in this diary would have to be altered to be said to anyone here on the campus (where it is well-known that I think rooms without windows feel like elevators, that I have pronounced ideas about public speaking, and where one could never say that comments on what job candidates do have anything to do with the caliber of speech here at QB�.). I think the things I say about QB tend to make it look very good indeed, in fact, many times what I have to say makes QB look better than it would if it were described by many who have permanent jobs here (so much so that last year I was often heard talking people out of their negative comments, whereas this year I gave up and decided that life is different when you are a permanent faculty member, so I should just shut up with my idiosyncratic QB-zeal).

In short: me + QB = high regard. If that is not how it seems to you, gentle reader, if, that is, you do not think that my reports about QB tend resoundingly toward the positive, do say so. It would be good for me to know this.

Also, does it really seem like much of my life is spent at parties? I really do wonder. I mean, does it not also seem, even more perhaps, that I�ve spent three years largely alone? That there is a price to be paid for taking the path I�ve taken, and that I am not always certain it was the right decision, given the extent and expanse of my loneliness since I chose this path? I try to be true to that reality as much as I do to my love of escaping it on occasion to pursue other joyous things�or, simply, to keep intact my relationships with people who are geographically distant from me if always also close to my heart. Is that the life of a diva? I feel like I hardly know.

Here�s another thing I�m really curious about right now. Is my life all that public? I guess you (gentle reader) can�t really answer that. However, perhaps I can, because I�m the one with access to the stats tracking system I�ve installed in my diary. I can see how many people visit the diary each day, how long they stay, how many pages they look at, what server they use to access the pages, how they found the diary, their rough geographical location, whether they are new or return visitors, etc. All these things I can see if I am in the mood to see such things. So I can say with a fair amount of confidence that my life isn�t all that public. Not only do I keep a lot about my life to myself, but there just aren�t that many people coming here to read about what seems to some to be a fabulous life (also: I have code installed in my pages that stop search engines from listing my content). What�s more, very few of these who do visit are doing so from the Philadelphia area, and even fewer from servers attached to the QB as an institution or a location. I have a feeling that not many peeps around here even know I have a webdiary (though some friends of mine definitely do). But even if many people around here do know, I think most of them wouldn�t find much to be angry about herein. Of course, I could be wrong. People do disagree.

So, speaking in terms of stats, my life seems not to be all that public. But even if thousands or even hundreds of people were reading my diary daily, my life would still not be all that public. There is always so much I don�t say. Especially lately, with the decrease of loneliness that comes along with finding someone so amazing as my Best Ever. Almost daily I dream up stories and anecdotes I could tell about what it is like to live life alongside such a cute, intelligent, and inspiring boy, but those I keep for myself, because they belong only to me and him.

That�s what I think: not so public. But it strikes me as interesting to continue to think about how to make the division between what gets said and what doesn�t, what can be public and what can�t, and what can withstand the light of publicity and what cannot.

The long and the short of it is: You may continue to think what you think of me, whatever that is. I have only so much control over what that will be, and that is a risk (or a truth) I accept! Hannah Arendt would say that our lives are made up of stories, the narratives we form by being our selves over time. And we, as individuals, are not wholly in control of what our stories will be: others will help form them, and those others may have different ideas, aims, needs, and principles than do we, and those different goals will alter, aid, or impede us in the paths we would otherwise freely choose. (Do you remember this story from my past years of loneliness?: "Do you think you and I would ever date?" "No.") In addition, none of us entirely dictates what others will think of us when we present ourselves to the world. We are never able to calculate beforehand whom we reveal when we reveal ourselves to others. (This is why it can be really surprising to see what others think about who �we� �are.�) The difficulty of communication, even in a shared language, is reminder enough of that.

But man, isn�t it great to attempt to reveal yourself to others? (Ha!) Sometimes yes, sometimes no. It sucks to be surrounded by people who don�t know you, and who are therefore more than likely to misunderstand whatever revelation you might undertake. That�s what makes moving around a lot harder even than the simple stress of not knowing your surroundings.

But. We reveal ourselves only through our relations to others (what would 'revealing' be if there were no one there to witness it?), and that is why we cannot be only who we set out to be (your will is not and cannot be that strong), and also why the uncertainty imposed by those conditions is both inescapable and not to be regretted. You might think you regret this uncertainty wherein the person who you think you are is beyond your power to determine on your own. But that uncertainty is what makes love and friendship and maybe even art and things like commitment to justice possible, and so I am saying that the uncertainty is not to be regretted even when what it produces is, on occasion, regrettable.

So: I am whoever you think I am, sure, but I am also my own person, with huge parts of myself shielded, kept in darkness, from anything you might ever think of me. It�s the grown-up version of �I�m rubber, you�re glue.� It�s like, �I�m indiscernible, you�re insatiable (and neither of us will succeed entirely in our aims).� �Let�s call the whole thing off.�

It�s all fair.

However, no matter what you say, you will not succeed in convincing me that saying �Jill�s off to have sex in the city� was appropriate, or deserved, or even that I should have seen it coming. Seen it coming? Ugh. Where would I have to be looking to have to see such a thing? I�ve got better things to do with my eyes. (By the way, you look GOOD today.)

7:47 p.m. - May 19, 2007
jd - 2007-05-19 21:35:39
I really can't believe someone said that. It's so fucked up. And I'm really sorry that it happened. Just read it today (check the stats, sister! Ha ha). Lame taste to have left in your mouth. Icky all the way down. Other than that, what's up!
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Martine - 2007-05-21 11:09:03
Ball up all of that waxy pretentious Godiva and form it into a little chocolate figure of that horrible woman. Roll it in Quaker Oats, douse it in her non-rotgut champagne, then set it on fire. Do a little dance, make a little love, get out tonight!
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majortominor - 2007-05-21 15:18:26
i'm sorry for the cavalier comment, but i honor snarkiness. also, this whole incident makes me realize how much i've gotten used to people here making little comments suggesting they see my life and interests as weird, wacky, and frivolous. There's a hyper, hyper-normative culture here, and you've been really careful and generous about not just adopting the cynicism others of us have toward it.
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Liz Dunn - 2007-05-21 16:02:08
Having people write sort of anonymous and mean things in comments is always so jolting. From my perspective, which is someone who knows you pretty well and does not know your colleagues, that town, or even academia at all, your description of the party and what you said about the chocolates was SOOOO benign. I didn't even think the remark about the chocolates was snarky, more just an observation that you weren't excited. "Haters wanna hate, lovers wanna love..."
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