Boring Entry #1
Aug. 12th, 2004 06:45 pmTitled in honor of
sildra; best of luck at Michigan!
I'm sitting now in the Dartmouth main library, Baker-Berry. Dartmouth's campus is wireless, which is convenient. After I write this, I might go in the stacks to hunt for a book that Jean-Vincent Blanchard mentioned last semester, but which I never got to read: Foucault's Histoire de la sexualite. Yes, I could hardly stomach parts of Surveiller et punir (tr. Discipline and Punish), as I had to read parts of it standing up to keep from falling asleep, but I think there's a lot more I could get out of Foucault were I to read anything by him again. Part of it, also, has to do with
fiddledragon's comments on evolving standards of beauty here.
( Toothpaste U )
Wednesday morning we "slept in" until 7:30 or so, went swimming, and then went to the NY state capitol complex in Albany. We had excellent weather and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. The State Museum had part of the set of Sesame Street, one of my favorite TV shows growing up and something with which I can still entertain myself sometimes.
What was really moving was their 9/11 exhibit. I had seen all the images on TV, of course, and had driven near Ground Zero in Manhattan, but to see some of the bent and twisted steel beams and a mangled, half-burned fire engine was undescribably heart-rending.
It was my senior year, and I was in AP Calculus when 9/11 happened. I heard about it from my AP Gov. teacher, Mr. Welsh, the following period in study hall, when it seemed incredible. The day was one of horror and disbelief; it didn't sink in until lunchtime when the principal put CNN on in the auditorium. I had classmates with parents in the WTC; my junior English teacher's husband was starting a new job there that day. Although there were several casualties from West Windsor, no one I knew even tangentially was killed. I think only of the Latin:
( Dartmouth )
What irked me was that people seemed to think I was a spec too. Never mind the Swat physics t-shirt (the maroon smiley faces/courses one) that I was wearing. I am indeed shorter than Julian and maybe do look younger, somehow. I certainly do not see myself as having conducted myself in a juvenile or sophomoric manner, by any stretch of the imagination. It's just dreadfully annoying sometimes. I'll not forget how, when I lost my Burge meal card in Iowa, I was referred to the Currier front desk where the manager proceeded to ask me what camp I was in! Quelle insulte! The thought of that experience is enough to make me want to puff out my shoulders and sniff in mock indignation as did my HS advanced French teacher, M. Ray, whenever a student addressed him as "tu."
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I'm sitting now in the Dartmouth main library, Baker-Berry. Dartmouth's campus is wireless, which is convenient. After I write this, I might go in the stacks to hunt for a book that Jean-Vincent Blanchard mentioned last semester, but which I never got to read: Foucault's Histoire de la sexualite. Yes, I could hardly stomach parts of Surveiller et punir (tr. Discipline and Punish), as I had to read parts of it standing up to keep from falling asleep, but I think there's a lot more I could get out of Foucault were I to read anything by him again. Part of it, also, has to do with
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
( Toothpaste U )
Wednesday morning we "slept in" until 7:30 or so, went swimming, and then went to the NY state capitol complex in Albany. We had excellent weather and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. The State Museum had part of the set of Sesame Street, one of my favorite TV shows growing up and something with which I can still entertain myself sometimes.
What was really moving was their 9/11 exhibit. I had seen all the images on TV, of course, and had driven near Ground Zero in Manhattan, but to see some of the bent and twisted steel beams and a mangled, half-burned fire engine was undescribably heart-rending.
It was my senior year, and I was in AP Calculus when 9/11 happened. I heard about it from my AP Gov. teacher, Mr. Welsh, the following period in study hall, when it seemed incredible. The day was one of horror and disbelief; it didn't sink in until lunchtime when the principal put CNN on in the auditorium. I had classmates with parents in the WTC; my junior English teacher's husband was starting a new job there that day. Although there were several casualties from West Windsor, no one I knew even tangentially was killed. I think only of the Latin:
Dies illa, dies irae,
Calamitatis et miseriae,
Dies magna et amara valde.
( Dartmouth )
What irked me was that people seemed to think I was a spec too. Never mind the Swat physics t-shirt (the maroon smiley faces/courses one) that I was wearing. I am indeed shorter than Julian and maybe do look younger, somehow. I certainly do not see myself as having conducted myself in a juvenile or sophomoric manner, by any stretch of the imagination. It's just dreadfully annoying sometimes. I'll not forget how, when I lost my Burge meal card in Iowa, I was referred to the Currier front desk where the manager proceeded to ask me what camp I was in! Quelle insulte! The thought of that experience is enough to make me want to puff out my shoulders and sniff in mock indignation as did my HS advanced French teacher, M. Ray, whenever a student addressed him as "tu."