Pick my dissertation or something

Guys, it's kinda down to the wire. I'm supposed to participate in some sort of dissertation workshop next semester, and I don't even have a topic yet. No committee, no proposal, no nothing. I've been thinking probably I'd write about some ghost show shit, but I don't even know anymore. Why am I still doing this PhD thing? Anyway, in hopes that they'll inspire me to get my ass in gear and think about it and choose some shit, here is my fantasy dissertation committee with some helpful input:

I feel more motivated already.

Feel free to propose which topic I should propose in the comments. At this point, I'm like, whatever.

Oh hey, I finished that thing

That thing being course work for my PhD. While there are many, many things yet to be done (exams, proposal, dissertation, defense, etc.), this is a glorious milestone. I am kind of not sure how I managed to get through this last school year without failing everything and/or having a complete meltdown while teaching because nobody did the reading AGAIN. But you guys, I don't have to take classes anymore and I don't have to be a teacher anymore. This is exciting! And I don't know if you know this, but I'm planning to follow my dreams. My dreams involve being able to display both a doctorate of philosophy and an Emmy Award for my fabulous television comedy writing on a mantle that will apparently be devoted solely to my achievements. Isaac can put a small trophy up there too, I guess.

I'm getting out of academia, friends. The job market is TERRIBLE* and I have found through the experience of teaching that I do not particularly enjoy the experience of teaching. So why would I work my ass off for a shitty, underpaid and insecure position doing something I don't really like anyway? That is why I'm getting out. I still want the doctoral bragging rights, to be sure, and since I plan to write, writing a dissertation would basically be, like, a good first book project, amirite? And since my dissertation is sure to be something American culturey/history-y/morbid-y, I think that will point me on a good path to becoming the next Sarah Vowell. This is obviously when I'm not busy producing hilarious and awesome videos and working on becoming the next Amy Poehler. Though I should say that despite lacking any drag queen qualifications, I would make an exception to the academia rule by accepting an adjunct position at RuPaul's Drag U.

It would be like this, like, all the time.

So team Laurac (Lauren & Isaac) is preparing for a move (back) to ye olde Twin Cities in Minnesota. We are seeking out real-people jobs and a home where we can store all of our books and DVDs and a stuffed woolly mammoth and two full-size couches for optimal cuddling and lounging purposes. We have dreams that one of us will get a job with health insurance (!) and that we can start paying down some of the credit card debt accrued during grad school. I plan to stay a full-time student technically so we don't have to start paying off all my loans (somehow Isaac managed to not accrue ANY in 10 years of schooling?) yet, and we hope to be busy and not as poor as now and filled with hope for our futures instead of despair for the present. RuPaul believes in me, and I believe in you and your ability to make a plan for your life to be less terrible just like I have.

*Also, duh. Remember this? It is SHOCKING to the Chronicle that "smart" people might be poor sometimes!

Energy Drink Review: Rockstar Xdurance Performance Energy

I'm still not buying "XDURANCE" as a thing, but I do like your science words, Rockstar!

Guys, it is finals week. And I have a lot of work I've procrastinated so I'm in my office on a Sunday afternoon with a new flavor of Rockstar, a giant stack of books, and a seething resentment of everybody who ever made going to grad school seem like an okay idea. The selling points on this can of Rockstar are the following:

1. I haven't seen this kind before. I have to try all the kinds (except for tea flavors because those will be gross, though perhaps not as gross as this shit).
2. It promises only 10 calories per serving (because girls are supposed to count those, right?)--which of course is two per can because who drinks and entire 16-ounce energy drink? Obviously we all stop halfway through and just let the rest get really flat and gross and drink it another day.
3. It claims to contain "branched chain amino acids" and electrolytes. I think they're just making shit up now. It's like science water.

I didn't realize it was red until I saw this photo. It is red! It tastes pretty red, too.

This beverage is blueberry/pomegranate/acai* flavor and lightly carbonated. It is DELICIOUS. Now, since I am a little bit anxious today already, I cannot wait to see what 1.245 grams (x2) of "energy blend" does to me!

Update: 2/3 done with the drink and it is still delicious. I feel rather alert, though my anxiety has definitely increased mildly. Caffeine is dangerous for the crazy. But SRSLY, I will not do ANYTHING if I don't drink it, I will just give up and go home and nap even though I got up at, like, 3:00 p.m. again.

Further update: It's good. It's doing its job. I have completed a few tasks at least. I will continue to complete things. I believe in myself now that I am full of xdurance or whatever.

*Ah-SAH-ee? (see 2:30)

It's too late for me, but maybe you can save yourselves

Hey, does not trying to find a job for a couple more years sounds good?(1) Have you always enjoyed school?(2) Do people tell you that you're "smart"?(3) Do you qualify for massive federal loans?(4) If you answered yes to any of these questions, you're a prime target for these schemers:



I will say that I resent the idea that "linguistics" as an entire discipline is useless and obscure. My BA in it that I'm not using comes in handy occasionally while watching Jeopardy or during drunken debates over language families or etymologies (I'm in grad school, okay? Even our drunken debates are ridiculous.). But with an MA, most of the coursework for a PhD, and a bunch of student loan and credit card debt under my belt, I am ready to be even more over-qualified for all the jobs I won't be getting in the future! (Can you tell I'm over this a little bit?) But anyway, the video is funny. That is all.


(1) Haha! You will be scrounging for money the whole time and even if you have an assistantship, will probably have to scramble for a job every summer to fill in the gaps! Don't work too much, though, because then you won't qualify for food stamps anymore.
(2) This feeling will not last much longer!
(3) You do not actually have to be smart to go to grad school, just gullible enough to think it's a good idea and desperate enough to fulfill all the requirements.
(4) I don't think you even have to prove you are breathing to get this money! But it will never be the right amount at the right time or you will have to fill out another form or check with the grad college that tells you to go back to financial aid but they can't do anything until you go to the library to pay off your overdue charges but then they tell you that the bursar takes care of that now and the bursar says there's a problem with the registrar's office who tell you to go back to your department and then it takes 3-5 business days to process disbursement and then you can check with your bank to see if it has been deposited, which it probably hasn't yet!

What I'm up to

I know all .2 of you who aren't my Facebook friends and therefore don't get to see my constant finals/procrastination whine-a-thon are like, "What is Lauren doing since she released her last awesome video? Also, remember when she used to actually write posts?" I am not sure who you are talking to. Each other? Yourself? Me? Anyway, I'm trying not to fail out of school/life right now, but I've got some more (slightly-less-epic) recipe videos ready to be edited and I've also been working on a secret Twilight project since I sucked down a bunch of vodka at a The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn: Part 1: Mostly Boring Wedding Crap screening a couple of weeks ago. I will give you a taste of the awesomeness/crazy ridiculous time-suck on my part to come:

We all do, Jacob. We all do.

Anyway, at least there's new Very Mary Kate. She's funny and also has a real camera.

I would like to thank the ROCKSTAR Company for saving my life once again

Friends, I am in my office hours right now. I am required to sit in my office for a number of hours each week so I am available to students. Even if my students knew where the building where my office is, they would not come. No, they only come if they have to make up a quiz or talk to me about a paper (try-hards), and we haven't had any of those things yet, so they're definitely not coming by. But before I showed up late to the office hours I myself scheduled but it doesn't matter because no one will ever come, I went for a run. Yes friends, a run. As I believe I've mentioned here before, my "running" is more like "jogging and gasping for air while sweating profusely," but "running" is a more concise description. Anyway, Ohio swamp summer had been taking a break for about a week, but today it was like, "Fuck you guys, HUMIDITY YUCKYUCK AGAIN." Because apparently the weather is a foul-mouthed five year-old.

Anyway, I was running in a far less shady area than usual today because of course I chose today to "switch it up" and "explore." Anyway, it was terrible and hot and the air was heavy with mocking bits of moisture. My lungs were like, "Where is the oxygen?" And my limbs were like, "Stop trying to move me." And I basically had to keep stopping to walk a bit and I felt like one of these:

Get it? SLUGGISH?

But with lots and lots of sweat instead of slime. Basically, I got real dehydrated. And then I had to ride my bike home, shower real quick, and show up late to these office hours. But I stopped at my local Bro Supplies Depot and picked up another one of these Rockstar Recovery guys. This time I chose grape flavor.

Now, me and real grapes are only friends in champagne and red wine forms. Me and artificial grape flavor have an even more ambivalent relationship. Sometimes I am like, "Oh, it is sweet and contrast-y with all the other flavors I like better like yellow and green and orange for their citric content." Other times I am like, "This purple shit tastes sickly sweet and/or like poorly disguised cough medicine!" So I was vaguely nervous about my decision to drink the grape. I want you to know that I do not regret this choice. The Rockstar Recovery flavors are non-carbonated and relatively subdued (but not in a gross, mixed-with-tea kind of way). I had a dehydration headache when I got to the office, but through a magical combination of lots of water, this drink, and most of a bag of Gardetto's, I almost feel human again. I should really know better than to exercise.

Anyway, I re-endorse this product in grape this time. I am nervous that the lemonade flavor would make me feel more dehydrated, you know, the way that actual lemonade is kind of like that. But I can't know until I try it, I suppose. I also picked up a Lo-Carb Monster to review soon, so look forward to that since I know it won't last long in my fridge at home.

First Time Teacher Thoughts

Me: Whoa, that's my syllabus? It looks so professional!

Voice of reason: You copied and pasted most of that shit from other people's syllabi.

Me: Oh yeah. Other people are so good at being professional.

Energy Drink Review: Jolt Blue Bolt

Hello friends,

I have been meaning to blog more. The SGJ has a question to answer, I've been planning another presidential post, etc. But let's talk about the truth, people: I am lazy. I'm also kind of busy. I am teaching an online class and trying to avoid having a nervous breakdown by doing things like dropping the class I was going to take this term and now I have to pay back my federal loans from this summer because I no longer qualify and blahblahblah whatever.

Anyway, today I'm reading, grading, and responding to some discussion board posts by my illustrious students, motivation for which required some outside help. So I ventured out in the 95 degree heat with like 2635786% humidity to the Rite Aid and bought the cheapest energy drink I could find: a Jolt. There were a number of flavors, and I chose blue. I will let you know how it goes.

Tragically, Jolt no longer uses the battery-shaped cans, but I do appreciate that they have a tie-in with Breaking Bad which is awesome and also about meth. Coincidentally, Isaac and I finally got season 3 disc 1 from Netflix today and we are going to watch the shit out of it this weekend.

Flavor: It tastes blue, I'll tell you that! Like a blue raspberry candy or something. Not bad. As I make my way through the can, I must say the flavor holds up even as the can heats up some. There is really no chemical aftertaste, so it could be a good choice for those who don't usually like energy drinks but like things that taste like candy.

Efficacy: I'm not feeling any overwhelming surge of energy, but between the Blue Bolt and a family size bag of Doritos, I'm on a bit of a roll with my work. I also find I have many things to say in response to my students that are more "but what about this?" than "oh my god you have totally misread everything"--which is really encouraging!

There was never a spike in my energy, but I felt a small uptick in general alertness, and it tasted good all the way through. If you've got a low caffeine tolerance and/or preference for less chemical-tasting beverages, the Jolt Blue Bolt's a good (and affordable at under $2) choice.

Maria Bamford Does Male Characters

A video I made for another class blog. Gogo Gadget Halberstam!

School starts boo boo boo

Today was the first day of class. Luckily I only had to go to the lecture for the class I just found out last week that I'm TA-ing for. Then I came home and took and nap and I don't have to be anywhere until class tomorrow night. This wonderfully out-of-context panel from the amazing Comically Vintage really sums up how I feel about the start of a new school year:

WTF? But also: yes.

In other news, Isaac and I got hooked on a bunch of terrible reality TV this summer, which has led us to the trashily awesome Bachelor Pad. Right now I'm on Team Weatherman. I think he's a real dark horse candidate, and he's a lot more interesting than all the other bros who look the same and appear to have no discernable personalities. So my life is awesome and filled with thrills a minute. Oh, and FINGERSCROSSED/KNOCKONWOOD/CROSSYOURSELF/DEFLECTTHEEVILEYE, the fleas seem to have taken a severe hit and we are feeling pretty pest-free in the house. Not quite ready to declare the Great Flea Holocaust of 2010 complete yet, but we're well on our way.

Odds 'n ends

Good news for all you hungry fans (hungry for my WORDS--if you need food, you should go get a snack, I can only provide intellectual sustenance): my part-time temporary office job may turn into a full-time temporary but for the whole summer office job. In which case, I imagine between commuting to Toledo, living off of Diet Coke and granola bars, and copying and pasting shit into spreadsheets all day, I may begin blogging more regularly, what with the being stuck a computer for eight hours in a row-ness. In other news, I graduate next week (finally). I suppose I'm going to do the whole walking thing; I think Isaac has a cap and gown I can borrow. If for some reason you would like to download the PDF full text of my thesis, "Raising a Monster Army: Energy Drinks, Masculinity, and Militarized Consumption," you can do so here. Totes related, via Emily, I saw this cool collection of soda packaging at Web Urbanist.

In light of an alternative energies documentary we watched recently on NOVA (slightly less depressing than the "American Experience" on My Lai the other night), I dug this photo collection from Chernobyl then and now at Sociological Images. There is a bar in Chernobyl where disaster tourists and occasional residents can get drunk on vodka AND lingering radiation poisoning!

A poignant (and I mean that sincerely) piece on girl-on-girl middle school bullying: The Lessons My Bullies Taught Me at No Points for Style (I read it first re-published at Jezebel). It just reminded me of how bitchy I was to one particularly friend of mine in the seventh grade. I thought she acted really young and got sick of having every class together and being compared to her all the time (we were both in advanced classes and went to church together and did all the same after school activities), so I basically did my best to ditch her and get our other friends to do the same. Eventually her mom called my mom and my mom gave me shit, igniting the ol' Mormon guilt, and I started to repair the friendship, which lasted a few more years, though we were never particularly close again. I never did know how to say I was sorry (and I genuinely was and am). I never really knew why I would do something like that when I had been ditched by girl friends before and spent a huge chunk of my time talking trash about all the mean "popular" girls who were doing the same thing I was. It's not an excuse, but in some ways I think thirteen year-olds are some of the least well-adjusted humans on earth. I thought I knew some shit, was smarter and more mature than the other kids my age, but it turns out I was just as big of an asshole as they were.

Thesis: defended, Pluggers: still terrible

Well, in case you were wondering, I still exist. I successfully defended my thesis last week and am enjoying a bit of relaxation during this spring break. It is actually sunny and warm. Weird. But I do have some final edits to do, and though they are relatively minor, being back here in the library has not brought me much inspiration to dive back in to my 100-page project. Frankly, I don't really ever want to see it again. Though my committee seems to think I should turn some of it into articles this summer. Blech. Still not sure what I will be doing this summer or after it. I have been rejected by a surprising number of PhD programs. I'm still waiting on the one I thought was the biggest reach, so it looks like I'll probably be staying here. Which is not the end of the world, but not really exciting either. On the plus side: I just got three more months' worth of a Prozac prescription, I am going to Chicago to have a giant drunken slumber party with a bunch of old college friends in a couple of weeks, I have an awesome boyfriend who I refuse to call my fiance because I don't like the associations that come with admitting to strangers that you're engaged as if somehow our relationship is all different now, and I picked up a new box of Frost & Glow hair dye to touch up my unblonded roots. Basically my life is awesome and interesting and I swear that any day now I will stop complaining about my thesis. Anyhow, let's talk about some things that are supposed to be funny and why they are not and why that makes us laugh/cry in the form of recent editions of the notoriously awful one-panel comic Pluggers: Gross. That towel will be covered with cat hair! Do I need to remind you of the Bengay incident? (You're welcome, again.) Wet fur-on-fur action is ICKY, Pluggers, not cute. Also, this would make me sneeze a lot. Pluggers think that a crappy two-inch piece of metal will protect them from the inevitable nuclear/terrorist/scary black intruder/government coming to get your guns-ocalypse. Haha! See, I am like a Plugger except that I try to get appointments for after 2:00 p.m., because I don't want to get up before then. This is not a joke, just an observation. Naps are awesome. I'd take them all the time if I didn't, you know, get up after 2:00 p.m. every day. First of all, I'm a little shocked that Pluggers were able to successfully set up and use their caller ID, but perhaps one of their 'Lil Plugger grandkids did it for them. Second of all, clearly, these doctors are calling to tell Mr. and Mrs. Manbeast to stop using their names on forged prescriptions. Pluggers clearly also still write checks in the grocery store. On behalf of all current, future, and former grocery store/gas station clerks and every other customer ever who knows how to use a debit card and/or cash for god''s sake: I HATE YOU. You take too long. It is no longer 1993, which was about the last time ordering shit over the phone and using a checkbook for in-store purchases was acceptable. The scary internet box will not eat you, and will probably not even steal your identity as long as you're not stupid. Fucking Pluggers. Pissing me off just thinking about standing in line behind them.

Preliminary Thesis Consequences

Here are some things that have happened because of the death plague known as trying to get a master's degree: 1. I Googled "Viagra presidency" for a chapter where I talk about the Clinton years and masculinity just to make sure I didn't make the phrase up. I couldn't find an original source, but I have gotten about 5x more Viagra emails in my Gmail spam folder every day since then. 2. I am not drinking alcohol right now (almost at two months, it is really weird), but I am drinking a lot of caffeine. I was never going to sleep at normal hours anyway, and the energy drinks and Diet Cokes keep me awake and inspired for working, making silly MS Paint projects, and blogging when I should be working. I already have too many cavities, and I'm sure all the soda ain't helping, especially since I have no dental insurance right now, but it's probably easier to get dentures than a new liver, so I think it's a fair trade-off for now. 3. Here is something I made yesterday in response to a Facebook thread on staying on task (the constant struggle for us academicians):

SRSLY.

While I write my thesis, other people write funny things on the internet

Exhibit A: Jill induces us all to embark on a worthwhile experiment involving observing our fellow human beings. Predictably, the results of which culminate in the conclusion that "exceedingly few non-aborted fetuses become saintly millionaire football players." True. (I Blame the Patriarchy) Exhibit B: Josh's choice of comics to mock falls in line with my ongoing thesissary investigation into militarism and masculinity. Some highlights from the other day include: "[General Halftrack] secretly harbors fantasies of someday becoming a 147-star general." Ha! Also, " Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go wash my mustache for the next nine hours." Ha squared! Oh, the funnies. (The Comics Curmudgeon) And here I sit on the seventh floor of the library, half hyped on a random plastic 22-ounce bottle of Rockstar Punched (orange mango & passion fruit flavor) from a flat Isaac found a the Big! Lots!, copying and pasting things from other blogs in lieu of actually blogging and copying and pasting paragraphs and pages from old papers of mine into a document that will one day be the second chapter of my thesis (chapter one does not exist yet, either, mind you), entitled "Selling Masculinity, One Camouflaged Can of Soda at a Time: War and Gender in American Culture." I might insert "Post-9/11" in there somewhere. I have been known to throw around the term "post-post-9/11" also which totes sounds like something that would be included in a spoof of a humanities paper, but I recently read it in a published scholarly book so somebody else pulled the same term out of their ass and are apparently employable, so I am clearly a genius and will totally get 100 pages written in the next couple weeks, successfully defend my thesis at the end of February, and graduate in May on schedule. Also, I will have shiny, lustrous hair while I do it. I don't know why. I've had a lot of this Rockstar.* Better get back to poaching my own academic work now. Huzzah! I promise one day to return to the webernets on a semi-regular basis and write some silly presidential posts. *"What is going on up here?" -Charlie, It's Always Sunny, gesturing to head.

Intensive thesis writing to ensue*

I have to defend my as-of-yet nonexistent thesis at the end of February, so I should probably be blogging more than ever in the near future. Here are some things I have to say: Never see 500 Days of Summer. Emo bullshit piece of Nice Guy (TM) crappy crapness. Sorry, JGL. You could probably afford to skip Jennifer's Body. Meh. Go see the new Guy Ritchie Sherlock Holmes because of hot boys, awesome old-timey facial hair and also lots of great three-piece patterned suits. I have a flat of Rock Star Punched energy drinks and several stacks of library books. Let us pray to the Sexy Gay Jesus that I survive relatively intact. Though for the time being I have traded in my prodigious boozing for excessive caffeine, so hopefully that will affect my work ethic positively.

Hello dear blog-readers (if there be any of you left)! It has been an intense few weeks what with doing actual work so I can not fail out of grad school and have to get a real job--this in combination with a tireless search to actually find not-terrible job(s) for the summer since I will be here taking classes and not assist-ing with the women's studies until fall again. Luckily, I turned things in for all my classes! Three papers of adequate length and quality! Here are this semester's paper titles*: 1. Edgy or Icky? Daria as an Immanent Critique of Postfeminist Popular Culture 2. Bloggers, 527s, and Vietnam: How the Internet Made Swift Boat Veterans for Truth 3. Raising a Monster Army: Militaristic Masculinity and the Recruitment of Free Digital Labor Yes, I read many articles and book chapters and then wrote these things and I turned them in and now the semester is over and I'm a little confused about not having something I should be working on. I am practicing just lying on the couch, not doing anything but playing with the internet. Not that this is much different than the school year, mind you, but this time I am not actually slacking. No, now I am filling my time by 'staying informed' about celebrity gossip and the latest Colbert videos while 'maintaining vital relationships' via Facebook stalking. Later I will be going grocery shopping, as it has been many many moons and all I have left in my house is some spaghetti, granola bar flavors I don't like, frozen limeade, and mini-tortillas. I have been eating a lot of mini-tortillas (perfect hangover/drunk food), and am left actually with only regular sizes of tortillas now. I must remedy this. In other news, Karaoke Jesus spent a very long several days graduating and moving out and having her entire extended family including a small child and an overly pissy mother of said child over constantly while I was trying to finish my last paper and then, like, sleep. I was going to miss her loud, sincere singing a little bit until this recent series of events and now say GOOD RIDDANCE and have fun in Austria or whatever because even though we've never met I hear EVERYTHING that you and your LOUD family and friends have ever said inside your apartment which is pretty much inside my apartment. Also, the neighbor known as Mesh, popular for wearing only mesh shorts in front of his TV, snoring quietly, and once banging on the wall while I was drunkenly trying to play the guitar and sing at 4:00 in the morning has appeared to have moved out also. I eagerly look forward to these apartments being filled by equally lovely folks. Or better yet, staying empty all summer. Too bad the kids who play loud, crappy crappy music with too much bass before 8:00 in the morning (NOT AN EXAGGERATION I HATE THEM I HATE THEM) are not moving out at this time also. Alas. Ooo! Last night was grad student prom (a party, not an actual school-sponsored event):

Hot hotness, right?

Anyhow, I will be doing a library job and a psychology/language-y/research job this summer and taking one class during the two summer sessions. I may have less sleeping-all-day time, but I plan on being very relaxed and hopefully making my clever and adorable presence, like, more present on this here blog. Anyway, I'm off to keep laying on this couch. Love, pinkipoos, and to finishing that fucking semester finally! Laurenzo *In humanities/cultural studies, subtitles are pretty much required. Duh.

Updates, Excuses, Energy Drinks, Google

Dear faithful readers and also the faithless ones too, I apologize for my recent negligence as I have actually had shit to do. This shit comes in the form of an academic conference at which I presented an energy drink paper Saturday (who'd a thunk, right?), had to write another paper for today, have my regular work for both of tomorrow's classes, and have to read a book and lead a seminar on it for Wednesday. So obviously, I am blogging right now. Also, I am trying out the latest Rockstar flavor, Punched Energy + Citrus. It kinda tastes like a more delicious Sprite or Mountain Dew and supposedly will give me a good kick, so there ya go. I need it so I can read about U.S.-Middle East relations and 1950s biblical epic films or whatever this book is about and then coordinate with my partner and make a power point. I'm not going to lie, I really do hope I have time for the power point because I not-so-secretly like making them. It's like blogging, but with slightly more bullet points and even more Google image searches. GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH BREAK:

The Egyptians will have to tear that staff from his cold, dead hand, bitches!*

Oh! Speaking of Google! Like, how I'm pretty much a Google-human-energy drink cyborg or whatevs these days, the keynote to our conference was by Siva Vaidhynathan and it was awesome. He read us the intro to his new book (The Googlization of Everything) and showed us pretty slides and made funny jokes and was smart and awesome. He also has really critical and incisive things to say about the Google Book Project. He wonders why the Library of Congress doesn't do this. And of course this is because for the past few decades the Milton Freedmanites of the world have been pushing for the privatization of everything. Bastards. Anyway, I should get on my little ol' way with this PUNCHED drink and epically encounter the Middle East in this book. (Don't worry, we read Orientalism last week, so I know everything I need to know pretty much for everything now.) Spring break starts as soon as I'm done with my shit Wednesday night, so history posts to come. Thrift Store Champion and I also have tentative plans to visit one of the Ohioan presidential historical sites for nerdy museuming and picture-taking. Hooray! Okay, seriously this time, I'm going to read. Love and problematic orientalist discourses, Lauren J. 43%Taurine P.S. Apropos of nothing in particular, I have used my fancy free video-converting software to put my music video on the Toobz. See here. *Got to admit the man can grow a sweet beard.

Blech

My finals are very much like this picture: slightly awkward, overly made-up, uncoordinated with teammates, and with abbreviated costumes. Plus a lot of reading and writing. Or whatever.

Friends, I apologize that there was no (super-awesome) history post yesterday. I am in the midst of final papers/projects and am quite sure that the only way I will finish them all in time will involve that time-traveling-necklace-thingy Hermione had that one time. I wonder if witches take food stamps? Anyhow, I am doing a lot of work and the only fun allowed is the occasional illicit nap (what I just did all afternoon) and attending a previously planned Festivus party (tonight! hooray! Feats of Strength!). I will do my best to let you know occasionally that I am alive. But until my papers are finished, bon voyage to you and hello to 24-oz. Rockstar Juiced can after can. Love, Slightly bedraggled and unshowered Lauren

I continue to do a great job writing final papers

La dee da, I should be working, but instead I'm drinking one of the Rock Star Juiced (Guava) 24 oz. cans that Thrift Store Champion bought a flat of at Big Lots! and playing on the internet. I am working on which direction to take my paper on Walter Benjamin and the democratization of the means of cultural production. I wanted to do something with that awesome Pin-Up Grrrls book I read this summer, and got a bunch of books about feminism and art blah blah blah. But I was rereading The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction last night and all I could think about was YouTube. And I said to myself, "I do not want to write a YouTube paper. Also, I'd have to restart all my research. And it would have to be like recent journal articles, etc., which are harder to find than books in a cursory search." So here I am trying to figure out where to go with it and just fucking around on the internet instead of reading more. Annnyway, enough about my working block. I just have to have, like, an outline for tomorrow or whatevs. So, links! -Amanda talks about an Evangelical Christian who realizes that maybe morality doesn't have to be based on specific belief in one specific version of god. This is a minister who traces his spiritual journey in a segment of the always-awesome This American Life. Amanda says:

What made the whole thing even more fascinating was that Pearson got all these letters from people who conceded outright that the existence of a hell where the majority of people go was a moral outrage, but who nonetheless suggested that he best comply with god’s wishes. God, in other words, is a terrorist holding a gun to people’s heads. And, more importantly, if you’re moral you do everything in your power to save other people from the wrath of this evil, torturous being by spreading the, um, Good News. Their entire system relies on the belief that people are more, not less, moral than god. Jesus’ role in this is that he became a man, and thus basically adopted some of man’s morality, and he pleads with the vicious, nasty, vindictive god to show a little mercy to his creation.

Obviously, most Christians would deny that this is what they really believe, but thinking about it in these terms is intriguing and ultimately kind of revealing about how much of religion is based on fear. Christian minister finds morality doesn't come from god. (Pandagon) -There's a buzz going around the feministernets (yes, I just made that up) about some bullshit article that I am too lazy to find and actually read and link to that basically blames third-wave feminism for increases in binge drinking among young women. Blah blah blah, women having equal rights and feeling freer to do shit that guys have always done is BAD. I'm not going to pretend that my frequent excessive drinking is healthy or something, I know it's not, but I also know that I can get away with it right now (I'm young, a grad student, live in a small town and have nothing better to do, etc.). I also won't claim that I don't enjoy feeling like somewhat of a badass when I down straight liquor or can match guys twice my size drink-for-drink. I also won't pretend that I don't also use alcohol to lower inhibitions and enjoy casual hook-ups. I realize mixing sex and alcohol can be problematic, but I think the fact that it is so common is largely due to restrictive cultural conceptions of female sexuality that are at odds with physical reality. Getting drunk is fun. Having sex is fun. Often hooking up is far easier when you're both drunk. So what? I'm in my fucking twenties. Is this not the time to sow my wild oats? Why has no one in the past been concerned about young (or old, or any) men and their oats, but get all pearl-clutchy when it comes to girls doing it to? I WANT MY FUCKING WILD OATS AND I WILL SOW THEM ALL I WANT. I'm a feminist. I also drink a lot. I have no bullshit ideas that drunkenness is somehow a "feminist" state. Duh. Just because feminism has allowed for women to "behave badly" without the same kind of social consequences that would have come with them in the past doesn't mean everything I do makes some sort of feminist statement. I'm fucking sick of fucking pseudo-feminist or anti-feminist or just generally "concerned" journalists and pundits blaming feminism for anything they believe is wrong with society, without actually examining the roots of certain phenomena. As if just because our coping strategies have changed means that we live in a fucking post-patriarchy. Assholes. Anyway, there are a lot of good posts out there (see Jezebel, Feministing, etc.), but I particularly enjoyed Jill's discussion: Chicks Drink. Blame Feminism. (Feministe) -This has been bouncing around the 'webs, and if you haven't seen it yet, it's fucking awesome. Jack Black as Jesus as the best idea ever. Also, perennial faves Allison Janney, Andy Richter, Margaret Cho, and that guy who plays Darrell on The Office, as well as NPH!

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and many more... by Jack Black

Trying the Monster Hitman Energy Shooter: Hoping My Organs Don't Start Shutting Down

So at long last, friends, I have decided to try one of these "energy shooters" that the Manly Energy Cabal* have been coming out with. I have been intrigued by the tiny plastic bottle and the awesome concentrated energizing juice contained within. And I have wondered if it would kill me. At the liquor store Friday when we picked up the fateful bottle of absinthe, we grabbed some of these Monster Hitman(s)/Hitmen? Not that Monster is into promoting the idea of energy as some sort of violent assault on your body or whatever. But I will discuss their militaristic and masculinist rhetoric another time (perhaps in my master's thesis, but we'll see). Anyway, I have a paper to write this afternoon, a reading response, 6-8 pages for my history class. I've written four of these already this semester, and I've done well on all of them, but I really have to have some chemical help to get me motivated. I've hired the Hitman for the job.** I'm a little bit nervous since I've heard it fucks you up and even the guy at Energy Drink Reviews says it's the strongest shooter he's had. It's possible that I may never sleep again. But I have begun sipping at it, and it is quite delicious. I shall update the review as I make more progress. And just so you know:

CAUTION POTENT: Limit intake to maximum 1 bottle every 4 hours. Do not combine with other caffeinated products. Too much caffeine may cause nervousness, irritability, sleeplessness, and occasionally rapid heartbeat.

UPDATE: It's been about an hour and I finished the 3-oz. shooter a little bit ago. Nothing too crazy yet, but I am feeling good. My hands are not too shaky to type, but the legs are even more fidgety than usual. I have a heading and a title for my paper. I am the most productive producer of products ever. FURTHER UPDATED: It's been another hour, and I'm still feeling something, but nothing super-intense. Perhaps because I didn't just shoot the whole thing at once. If I flag in the next hour, though, I officially call bullshit on the Hitman's viability as a hardcore energy drink. EVEN FURTHER UPDATED: It has been four hours since I initially began this adventure, and I am totally crashing. I'm tired, somewhat dehydrated, and have a vague headache. I am only halfway done with my paper, also (though I did manage to shower, which was a desperately-needed accomplishment). After consulting with Thrift Store Champion and considering consuming the second Hitman, I decided it might kill me and he is going to bring me something nice, safe, and effective. Like Rockstar Juiced. Fuck the Hitman. Full review forthcoming after I finally write the rest of this stupid reading response. *Seriously, how the fuck do you spell that shit? Apparently with a c and one b. **See what I did there? Eh?