March 27
Kola Kiss and a scrap book
1965
I went shopping with H again. This time I got "Kola Kiss" - the new flavored lipstick. It's neat. It really matches my skin shade. I also got a scrapbook. The poor thing's so crowded now I can hardly shut it. Someday, though, it will be of great sentimental value to me and my family, just like this diary.
I hope V likes me, but I'm almost sure that he doesn't. After all, I'm not a tall, willowy blonde.
Comment 2023
And here it is, falling apart, and even more embarrassing than the diary. Kola Kiss? The idea was that it would make your lips taste nice for that special someone. (In this case, me.)
1979
Getting back on track is not possible, at least not very quickly! I just spent 10 minutes in gradually mounting panic looking for my 628B notes. Finally I remembered they were in a drawer in the lab. Is there no hope?
My seminar is next Monday; it is starting to click, miracle of miracles. But there are also 2 exams (Spivak’s this week, mine next week) and various other things. I hope to finish the seminar and do a first draft of my 610 paper this weekend. That would leave my main worries the AMST/Smithsonian paper and my independent study (which I have been neglecting).
The more I chip away, the less I have to do. Yo ho.
Comment 2024
See? Even 29-year-olds can have “senior moments”.
1997
Kiddo 2 and I are happily settled in a Residence Inn in downtown San Antonio. I may never willingly stay anywhere else. We have two rooms (and two TVs!), a kitchen with microwave and dishwasher… so great. We went on the Riverwalk boat ride and ate at the Hard Rock Cafe. Today I work on my paper, tomorrow I present it.
2003
At the Rising Phoenix retreat center, two days before the rest of the women arrive. I am sorta pre-retreating this year. I didn’t bring work, just things to think about. Crafts, but no computer. The new building is awesome, and it smells all new. What makes this place so great? The space. The woods, especially the pine trees on the slope outside, waving at eye level. The sky, especially at night. (Stars!!) The smells. The flowers and colors. The quilts on the bed. The great food. The nice people. The hot tub!!! The fireplace. The distance. The wood and stone. The labyrinth. I took the big bed. (I am taller than Nancy.)
I am thinking about writing this weekend. Thinking about writing and doing writing. How is writing different from talking? For me, not much. I could just as easily be saying these words as writing them. I talk pretty much like this. I can write more formally if I have to, of course. That’s the stuff that has gotten hard. I am very self-conscious since moving to American Studies and realizing that my existing vocabulary wouldn’t cut it. I suspected I didn’t have a big enough brain for American Studies. I still don’t know. Not much I can do about it, at this point. I think I have done pretty well for having been cast away on this exotic shore with nothing but my wits and a CV full of articles no one cared about. Why does American Studies drive me crazy? Is it the field or the department? The faculty or the graduate students? American Studies could have some real value in these troubled times, if they could relearn to write in plain English. But what are we doing? They? What am I doing? Fucked if I know, Terry.*
Comment 2024
*Jimmy Rabbit, The Commitments
2004
3:30 PM. So here I sit in the Union Station waiting room, nearly two hours before my train leaves. That’s just me, isn’t it? And I just realized I could be n the first class lounge. Duh!
5:30 PM So I moved and had a more comfortable wait. We just left the station, got as far as the overpass near the RI Avenue Metro station and here we sit. Hope this isn’t a preview of coming attractions. I certainly brought enough work along, if there are delays. But today (tonight) I am going to relax, having spent my day frantically getting ready to go. Ah, we are moving again.