* There are days when I actually kind of like teaching composition. Maybe it's just teaching in general. But for some reason, there is a satisfaction in doing some of these things.
* My students remain awesome. Sadly, they made the teaching schedule for the fall without anyone actually asking us what our preferences were, so I don't think I get to have any of them in the next part of the course. Also, the thought of teaching a third straight semester of this section is kind of meh. Still haven't heard from Other College if they're going to hire me or not.
* Petty blog-related drama aside, I am significantly happier than I was a year ago.
About Me
- the other woman
- "She did not know if she did it on purpose, but she lived as a fatality the necessity of destining her pleasure to the absent one, who moreover was not always the same, the other of the other always possibly being an other. This is naturally, and here I have to quote her, a 'surplus' of always available pleasure, and a 'fatal deprivation.' After a silence: the day that I love someone, man or woman, I am certain, or I believe that it will stop, in any event this is how I will recognize love. I have loved a lot, however, without ever abandoning myself to those I loved, presently I mean. And up to the present. Another silence (I had already asked for the bill) and without anything provocative or vulgar, with a kind of confidence which I still like to think of: I have the feeling that with you [vous] it would be different." (Derrida, Envois)
1 comment:
well . . .
how about writing about certain kinds of sex without necessarily having it? This is my plan for writing smutty fiction set in the victorian era in order to entertain myself during these hard dissertation months. if it's formulaic enough could one get away with it? I know this isn't really an important feminist issue but it may be important to my new goal to write a potboiler involving spanking scenes in 19th c. brothels or whatever . . .
--"frostflowers"
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