Proust’s birthday
Marcel Proust was born on July 10th, 1871. Here are the questions from the two versions of the Proust Questionnaire: a battery of questions that MAY give people stunning insight into your personality. Or may not, but it’ll probably be fun to answer them anyway.
What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Where would you like to live?
What is your idea of earthly happiness?
To what faults do you feel most indulgent?
Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?
Who are your favorite characters in history?
Who are your favorite heroines in real life?
Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
Your favorite painter?
Your favorite musician?
The quality you most admire in a man?
The quality you most admire in a woman?
Your favorite virtue?
Your favorite occupation?
Who would you have liked to be?
Your most marked characteristic?
The quality you most like in a man?
The quality you most like in a woman?
What do you most value in your friends?
What is your principle defect?
What is your favorite occupation?
What is your dream of happiness?
What to your mind would be the greatest of misfortunes?
What would you like to be?
In what country would you like to live?
What is your favorite color?
What is your favorite flower?
What is your favorite bird?
Who are your favorite prose writers?
Who are your favoite poets?
Who is your favorite hero of fiction?
Who are your favorite heroines of fiction?
Who are your favorite composers?
Who are your favorite painters?
Who are your heroes in real life?
Who are your favorite heroines of history?
What are your favorite names?
What is it you most dislike?
What historical figures do you most despise?
What event in military history do you most admire?
What reform do you most admire?
What natural gift would you most like to possess?
How would you like to die?
What is your present state of mind?
To what faults do you feel most indulgent?
What is your motto?
Filed under: general rambling and so forth | Leave a Comment
Tags: proust, proustquestionnaire, psychology
Anthem Blue Cross, heal thyself
I am an under-30, single-income person in the United States and I have private health insurance. I pay a few hundred bucks a pop to go see a doctor who:
- isn’t going to listen to me,
- will minimize my concerns,
- will tell me it’s stress, because every physical ailment I have can potentially be attributed to stress,
- and will then do a bunch of tests I have to pay a few more hundred bucks for (but won’t tell me anything about the results until I call the office 2 months later because no one is calling me to tell me anything).
I had never had the flu, but ended up with a terrible case of it right as flu season hit last fall, and I was not able to work for a week and a half (which meant no pay, because there is no sick pay at my job). I ended up needing to go to Urgent Care because I was having trouble breathing and maintaining balance so that I could walk, and I paid around $400 for that one-hour visit, including an EKG that I pleaded with the doctor not to give me because I knew it would be expensive (it came out fine, and showed that my heart was incredibly healthy, of course). They didn’t prescribe any medications or anything, just said “drink lots of fluids! get lots of rest!” and sent me home. I was late paying the balance of the bill because I couldn’t afford to pay it all at one time, and was terrified that it was going to drive my already-bad credit (due to several thousand dollars of educational debt) through the floor. I caught a tiny glimpse of what it must be like for people who have catastrophic emergencies without any insurance, and then have to declare bankruptcy because of medical debt. My eyes are wide open.
Do people really think that this system is working?! I can’t imagine what it would total for me to go get everything taken care of that I need to get taken care of (dermatologist, orthopedist, gynecologist, gastroenterologist, allergist, and dentist), and so I don’t go to the doctor. I’ve put thousands of dollars into my monthly insurance payments, and yet have a huge cost whenever I actually go to an office visit. And even if I do go to the doctor, will they record something that will then make it even more difficult/expensive for me to get care later (until 2014, according to the US’ new health care reform provisions)? What is wrong with this picture?
And if it is stress that apparently causes all of my pains, problems, and pre-existing conditions, then what will a doctor do about that? I know, because it’s happened ever since I started having stomach pain and GERD: the doctor will refer me for mental health care, right–but then the insurance company will cover like 10 visits to a therapist. How is someone supposed to get rid of all (or even a meaningful amount) of the external stress in their lives in 10 visits to a therapist? I AM a therapist, and I don’t even know how to do that. Also because I’m a therapist, I know better than to use insurance to pay for any mental health services I might use, because the therapist will have to use a (likely to be inflated in severity so that the insurance company will pay her/him) diagnosis that will stay on my records, and those records will be accessible to insurance companies, some government agencies, and potentially to employers who request those records as part of a background check.
All that said, I have the chance to go to the doctor, and not everyone does. So I will save my pennies and nickels, live cheaply, and eat cheaply to save money for one doctor visit. And then I will save for the next one, and then the next one, and so on. I’m pretty lucky, comparatively, and I’m certainly not the worst off in this country in terms of health care accessibility. But having access to affordable doctor visits is going to change my life, and that impact is just one tiny drop in the bucket of reasons why health care reform really is a Big Fucking Deal.
Filed under: social issues | 3 Comments
Tags: capitalism, crazy, health care, health insurance, i'm a special snowflake, insurance companies, power, privilege, stress
Catastrophe
I’ve been having incredibly vivid and strange dreams lately. And a lot of them have imagery that I can’t quite explain or figure out.
I was alone, and the world was in the midst of some kind of major, massive-scale disaster. A huge, worldwide flood. I was in a house that was dry (and was not the house I live in), getting ready and packing a bag, with clothes and necessities. I think that it had been a long time since the initial part of the flood, the part that had killed so many people. I was almost like a refugee, ransacking someone else’s things for something I could use. The house was abandoned, and I was the only one there. I had nothing but a backpack that I filled with some other person’s clothes and an extra pair of shoes. I boarded a huge boat, still alone, where I met up with several hundred other people who had survived the initial disaster. No one spoke to me, and I spoke to no one.
On this boat, there were a lot of people who looked alone, like me, and some small groups of people who huddled together closely. It was dark inside of the ship, but it felt warm and dry. I wandered around the various decks, and came to an area that looked like the inside of a luxurious mansion, with ornately-framed paintings on the walls, and candelabras on top of polished wooden console tables and armoires in the hallways. I came to a staircase that led downward, and there was a man standing at the top, holding a shotgun and watching carefully over the balcony top of the stairwell, looking down into the lower decks. I briefly looked over the edge of the stairs to see what he was watching, and saw people with faces that showed the true devastation that had overcome our shared world. I pulled back, looked at the man with the gun, and he did not look at me.
Descending the stairs, I came to a tiled pool within the ship. The pool was small and the tiles were mostly a deep blue color, with a mosaic mural of a man with white hair and a white beard, with simple white robes. Above his image, the words ‘John the Baptist’ were tiled [this is odd, because I know that most images of John the Baptist show him with dark hair and beard, not white; it's also odd because I'm not religious at all, and quite certainly am not Christian or Catholic]. I moved closer and closer to this tile pool, trying to get a closer look at the mosaic, and I slipped into it on accident. The water was warm, and smelled and felt utterly clean. I reached for the edge of the pool, trying to pull myself out, but my hands slipped and slipped, and I was unable to get a strong enough hold. I tried to touch my feet to the bottom of the pool, but I couldn’t find the floor, even though it had seemed to be so close when I was looking into the pool from the outside. I started to become afraid, and called out to the man at the top of the stairs, who I thought might help me out of the pool. He looked to me, expressionless, but didn’t move. I paddled my hands more and more frantically, but couldn’t stay afloat. I choked and gasped, realized that I couldn’t swim. I was so confused, not understanding why I couldn’t swim, when I knew that I was fully capable of swimming and keeping myself safe in water. I woke up just as my vision started to blur and darken. When I got out of bed, I was incredibly dizzy, and the dizziness didn’t subside for hours.
Filed under: general rambling and so forth | Leave a Comment
Tags: brain, crazy, dream, miscellany, psychology, symbolism, thoughts, weird
We’ve had a higher frequency of large earthquakes lately, it’s no secret. But what causes earthquakes to happen? A cursory glance around the internet reveals that there are many schools of thought:
1. Boring old plate tectonics and plate shifting.
2. Global warming and the melting of glaciers.
3. Moon phases.
4. Pacts with the devil.
5. Deepak Chopra’s meditation practice.
6. Those infamously slutty Iranian women.
7. Your mama, taking a walk.
8. Solar flares.
9. A creature in Japanese mythology called Namazu, which is a giant catfish who lives under the mud but whose guard is falling down on the job.
10. Greek god Poseidon’s bad temper.
11. Norse god Loki is wiggling around because there’s poison dripping on his face (see, the poison is a punishment for Loki killing his brother Baldur).
12. Thales of Miletus theorized that–because the earth floats on water–whenever there are waves in the water beneath us, we feel earthquakes.
Filed under: online, science | Leave a Comment
Tags: climate change, earthquakes, feminism, global climate change, information, mythology, pseudoscience, quackery, science, thinking
Anti-thanatos
What, exactly, is the prize one wins for being a climate change denialist?
Looking out your window at snow and saying “HA! it’s snowing, so ‘global warming’ is false!” is like looking out your window and saying, “HA! the ground looks pretty flat to me, so the planet Earth can’t possibly be round!”
It reminds me of the Twilight Zone episode where the neighbors with no bomb shelters break down the door of the bomb shelter built by the one neighbor who was actually paying attention and prepared, and they think it will mean they get to be safe too, but the reality is that no one can benefit from the protection of the bomb shelter because THEY EFFING BROKE IT.
The fact remains that the vast majority of scientific bodies all over the planet have come to consensus that human activities (burning of fossil fuels) are contributing to a worldwide shift in warming of the climate (some geology organizations, which are trying to contextualize a global climatic shift with the millions-of-years-long history of global climatic shifts, do not outright deny the fossil fuel impact but do not endorse it either). I am a person who feels that she understands–and accepts–scientific inquiry and method as a valid and reliable system for knowing about things going on. I have a hard time understanding why people resist, deny, or choose not to understand or accept scientific inquiry. And more specifically, I don’t understand what anyone gains from denying science. Does it mean you get to keep being completely self-interested and stomp all over whatever you want for the rest of your life? Cool, I guess. Does it mean you get to keep using up fossil fuels like there’s no tomorrow, only to find yourself at war with oil-producing Middle Eastern countries because you realized you’re running out? Does it mean you get to live a happy life of excess and gluttony because you’re going to die before the earth does anyway?
I kind of wonder if it has, at least in part, something to do with the confrontation of mortality. A lot of people work hard throughout their entire lives to avoid the uncomfortable, and thinking about being dead is certainly uncomfortable for many people (note: I’m tempted to draw in religious themes here as well, but I’m not sure if it’s a completely separate topic that requires a completely separate discussion, actually). Is denying climate change a way to pretend like no one’s going to die or be harmed? It’s kind of an immature and short-sighted way to imagine the future–that it’s ok to do whatever we want, because it won’t affect us–but it will affect our future generations, certainly. Is denying climate change actually a way to confront death in a way that’s extremely far-removed from the individual and personal? I would suppose that most people would rather imagine death as an uncontrollable, unalterable force, rather than to imagine the possibility of having a role or responsibility in the context of death. We’re all so comfortable with the idea that we can create life, but so afraid of the idea that we can end it. Just some thoughts.
Filed under: article, science, social issues | 1 Comment
Tags: acceptance, climate change, denial, global climate change, mortality, psychology, science, thinking
Anti-information
A school district in Riverside County, CA had banned dictionaries from its 4th and 5th grade classes earlier this week, due to the presence of a definition for “oral sex.” Today, they have apparently rescinded the ban.
Really, parents? Really?! The dictionary, incidentally, also has things like murder, mayhem, machine guns, machetes, marijuana, and methamphetamine. And that’s just in the Ms! I hope all of those 4th and 5th graders learn a lot more from that dictionary about the things that, at their developmental level, they are well within their rights to be curious about, and I hope they learn as soon as they can, just in case someone realizes the dictionary also discusses “masturbation.”
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Tags: crazy, education, information, kids, people, sex
Heifers for the Holidays
I got a catalog in the mail, advertising the purchase of livestock for the holidays. I was confused at first–I can’t really afford a cow, llama, or water buffalo right now, and also don’t know that my mom would like to clean up cow patties as a holiday gift–but it turns out that it’s a nonprofit that sends livestock to communities in impoverished nations. It sounds cool.
I’m not quite sure how I got on their mailing list.
Filed under: general rambling and so forth | Leave a Comment
Tags: good deeds, miscellany
Embodiment
My relationship with my body is changing.
Around age 12 or 13, one of my elementary school friends mentioned, as though stating a fact we were memorizing for a history test, that I was “chubby”–it was sort of an off-hand remark for her, possibly meant more to accomplish some sort of “oh, I meant to tell you” peace of mind for her than to provide me with any important information. Before then, I had never really considered the idea that I might be chubby. Honestly. I knew I had a little round belly, and thought it was just one of my many unique characteristics, like my single slightly crooked tooth, or the birthmark I have on my left knee, or my skill at spelling, or the fact that I had only one parent. These were some of the things that I recognized as parts of myself, just neutral parts of my entirety.
In retrospect, I can see that the “chubby” incident changed the trajectory of my adolescent emotional life. I became more depressed and angry at people, and the fairly healthy sense of self-esteem I’d had was simply dissolved. I noticed the change, even at that age, and thought how unfair it was that I was feeling this way, and read Reviving Ophelia. I learned a lot about body image, but still struggled constantly to find ways to relate positively to myself. I was afraid of people, and showed it with angry, tantrum-like outbursts. In high school, I gained confidence by doing very well in school. But I always compared myself to other girls, always had an internal dialogue about who was prettier or thinner or better than I was. I developed a health issue that caused me, more than once, to drop a lot of weight in a short period of time. When I would lose weight suddenly, I felt unhealthy and looked unhealthy–but felt this narcotic experience of being a “thin” girl. I always gained some pounds back, and my weight has currently stabilized at a point that, for a long time, felt like it was “too much”/”too fat”. I feel like my struggles with learning to feel comfortable inside my own body have, for years, been such a drain on my self-confidence and my ability to be close to other people, and even when I was very thin, I was jealous, afraid, and angry. It was, and is, hard for me to show myself to people when I feel like the only thing they will learn about me is that I have myriad terrible qualities.
It started sometime in the past year: I felt like moving my body–not just to make it look a different way, but to feel a different way. I started to walk a 3-mile track/route, among bicyclists, runners, moms pushing strollers, friends gabbing away, and people whose Bluetooths would still be stuck to their ears even while they exercised.
Chuckie
And after a few weeks, I decided to try running. In order to do this, I had to open a door that I had not ever even tried to peek through before–I grew up hating to run for P.E. at school, and actively defied any instructions to do so. Running has opened my relaxing walks into an ability to focus intensely on being inside my body and listening to what it’s telling me. I’m not running long distance or anything; I start out walking, then run for as long as it feels good, and then walk, and then when I feel like running again I run, and I keep switching off until I’m done. Sometimes I run slowly and steadily, and feel the muscles in my legs extend and contract, and feel my breath pick up a faster rhythm until it becomes too much, and then I slow back down and give my attention to the changes in the muscles and the breath as I walk. Sometimes I run faster than I know I can handle for very long, and see how long I can push my own physical limits and when my body lets me know I need to slow back down. Running, and the mindful embodiment I experience when I do it, has been critical to the way that my relationship to my body is changing.
I try not to linger at a mirror, and even if I do, I think of something nice to say to myself about the way I look, instead of the usual automatic negative thought that leads to another negative thought that just spirals out of control until I’m depressed and want to crawl back in bed. I stopped trying to cover myself up with makeup, and my skin improved immensely such that I barely “need” makeup the way I used to feel I did. I rarely straighten my hair anymore (it’s naturally wavy, and straightening means spending 30-45 precious minutes with expensive straightening/smoothing products, sweating under a hair dryer and/or a straightening iron), and spend that time reading or sleeping in. I choose clothes based on what will make me feel most confident, and don’t spend time thinking about what size the clothes are. I try not to use other women’s looks as a reason to pick on them inside my head (because she’s pretty, she’s probably dumb or annoying), or to pick on myself. Every physical experience I have is savored in my mind as it is happening. I know what it feels like, now, to live inside of my body, rather than existing as a separate thing outside of it, judging and criticizing and abusing it.
But it’s not my body that’s changing so much… it’s my mind and my heart. I’m so much quicker to notice myself being successful, rather than to dwell on perceived failures and continue to define myself by them. I’m kinder, gentler, more aware of things outside of myself, because I’m not spending all of my energy thinking about what I look like to other people. I can relax, because I know that the people whose opinions count already think I am interesting and smart and beautiful. And I have freed myself enough to be able to spread the message–it will never matter how many other people think wonderful things about you, if you can’t think them about you too. What would it be like to congratulate yourself a little? To appreciate yourself a little? What would it be like to experience yourself from inside, to just feel your feelings and experience your experiences?? The first steps may be some doozies, but there certainly is an enormous payoff.
Filed under: general rambling and so forth | 2 Comments
Tags: body image, embodiment, mindset, self esteem
I stumbled upon an illuminating article from Men’s Health magazine called “41 Ways to Make Her Swoon”, via Jezebel. Since I consider Men’s Health to be a great authority on What Women Want, I thought I would share some specific gems from the article with you, because I know you will find them to be useful tips:
5. Put your arm around her when you introduce her to your friends and family.
Yes. Let her and everyone else know she is your property and belongs to you.
6. Grasp her hand when a scantily dressed, beautiful woman walks by.
Don’t be listening to what she’s saying as the scantily dressed, beautiful woman walks by. Don’t forget to turn your entire body around to follow scantily dressed, beautiful woman as she passes you.
I can show you the world.
10. Wash her from head to toe in the shower.
This may shock you, but most women are actually able to do this on their own. If you’re in the shower together in the first place, priority #1 is not shampooing and exfoliating.
12. Stand her naked on a sturdy chair and lick between her legs.
The type of dude who is reading this article for serious help needs A LOT MORE DETAILED INSTRUCTION THAN THIS. Thanks, Men’s Health, for not helping at all in the spiritual journey toward the clitoris.
13. Occasionally call her by her first and middle names.
This will remind her of the way her parents would do the same when she was a child and they were upset with something she had done. This will confuse her boundaries and make you look like a real champ.
14. Buy her your favorite rock album of all time on vinyl.
… make sure you include tickets to your favorite sports game, the DVD of your favorite movie, and some really fucking uncomfortable lingerie in which you can enjoy looking at her. She will appreciate your thoughtful gift.
16. Undress her and put her to bed when she falls asleep in the car.
ALL WOMEN love to wake up naked and in a bed, unable to remember how they got there.
18. Send her something in the mail. Anything.
Pipe bombs are lovely this season.
22. Try desperately to make her laugh when she’s feeling down.
Especially if she is trying to talk to you about something serious, such as, perhaps, the reason she’s feeling so down.
27. Worship her breasts.
Let her know how glad you are to be in a relationship with her breasts.
28. Give her jewelry.
33. Send her very expensive flowers when you screw up.
Nothing says “love” like the assumption that the woman you love is a shallow idiot who will forgive you anything in exchange for a diamond or bouquet. Never use the words “I’m sorry”.
30. Ask her specific questions about her work.
For best results, feign interest in the answers.
And, drumroll please… my personal most favorite tip for how to make a woman swoon:
19. When she’s feeling insecure, stare into her eyes and tell her there is no one in the world who could be as right for you as she is.
Because her only sense of identity comes from belonging to you, and that’s how it should be.
Filed under: social issues | 2 Comments
Tags: article, feminism, stereotypes
Voices
This girl–about 12 or 13 years old–was saying that she didn’t think that it’s realistic to think that girls her age would boycott or protest something if they didn’t like or agree with it. She was saying that girls her age would think it was a waste of time or that people would think negatively about them if they actually did protest. I caught a little glimpse, just then, of the same sheer powerlessness that I felt as a 13 year old girl, too. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind, and have been remembering the times when I felt like I was being made into a victim and thought that I couldn’t fight back.
I am 26, and I have protested. I have boycotted. I have chanted, screamed, marched, debated, questioned, discussed, listened, made signs, made alliances, made t-shirts, peeled the backings from bumper stickers, I have stood up and I have spoken up, and felt my own power as one person with a voice. In Iran, we have seen people give their lives for the notion of having the freedom to live those lives authentically and with a voice. And then we saw the news media fall silent about it, and the injustice and death became easy to ignore again. And then we began to lose our own voices again, because we forgot we had them. How lucky we must be, to be able to be silent.
Filed under: social issues | Leave a Comment
Tags: dissent, girls, power, privilege, voice
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