Archive for the someday I’ll be a real middle class girl Category

what a girl wants.

Posted in blogging, books are bliss, disney princesses got nothin' on me, dissertation, domestic goddess, drama drama drama, facebook is the new crack, i hate vegetables, i love my life, i promise you that you won't care, i'm so much cooler online, me, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, teaching, the internets, the joys of living in Florida, wish i may wish i might on May 19, 2008 by drbolte

i want to fill up my gas tank without thinking about how it’s as much as i spent for electricity…for the entire month of april.

i want a body that lets me eat a pop tart without regard to its caloric content.

i want a world where women are paid the same as men for the same job.

i want to go on facebook and not see naked people. seriously.

i want people to be naturally kind.

i want to barbecue hot dogs.  i love them all burned and crinkly.

i want dissertation committees to pay by the word. or at least not make me read boring crap.

i want to be able to be good at everything that i try. everything. even sport.

i want a puppy.

i want it to rain for two straight days, a steady rain that will make the green go back to lush and will, as a bonus, wash my car. for free. and get all the lovebug remnants off of the grill.

i want to get up from this chair and make something yummy for dinner. i want that yummy to be sublimely yummy.

i want plane tickets to be cheap and the travel experience to be one that resembles a spa weekend rather than herding and penning cattle.

i want my rug to stop buckling, bending, shifting, and in general moving around from the wonderful place that i put it. it’s really starting to annoy me.

i want postage to stop going up. i hate having to supplement my stamp.

i want to not burn in the sun, or at least to finally figure out that magical time when the sunscreen stops being effective.

i want to find something amazing to do this weekend.  beach? pool? river floating? sprinklers? water balloons? obviously something related to water.

i want an unlimited supply of strawberries. it’s the food that screams summer to me.

i want to understand everything right now.  but at this moment, i could take understanding one thing.  what that one thing is varies from moment to moment.

i want my hair to be amazing, thick, luscious, and wonderful instead of fine and needing a cut and not as thick as it used to be (and how do i make it thicker? i need more hair.).

i want to have a dance party in my living room.  life needs more dancing.

what do you want?

monday monday…can’t trust that day

Posted in blogging, dissertation, domestic goddess, grrrrr., i promise you that you won't care, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, the internets, the joys of living in Florida, wish i may wish i might, you have to be a chick to understand on May 18, 2008 by drbolte

i hate mondays.

i don’t know why. i should see it as the beginning of a whole new week, a new opportunity to accomplish the things that i didn’t get the chance or have the inclination to accomplish the week before.  instead, i see it as this great big fat flag that says “hey! you have five more days to get through before you get to play.”

terrible attitude, really.

nevertheless, this week i sort of welcome it because it ends the supernaturally boring weekend that forced me to find things to do to keep the quiet at bay and brought me cramps.  i’m glad it’s over is my point.  and even though i have to wake up hecka early on wednesday to do a classroom presentation, all i can think is that this week i get to try to accomplish something substantial.

are you looking forward to anything this week? any big plans? any good goals?

my biggest goal? get back to the gym.  it’s intimidating the heck out of me again, and i just…have to get back to that place where i care more about doing it rather than how much effort and confidence it takes.  i’m a basketcase, the end.

my biggest hope? that i get fellowship news. at this point, i almost don’t care what it is (that’s a lie. i still want it bad). i just want to know already. and i hope that i get some good mail.

back to the end of my lame weekend, which is currently involving army wives on lifetime and crossstitch.

oh me.  behold the cliche.

help me help you help me.

Posted in blogging, celebrities, dissertation, grrrrr., i hate vegetables, i promise you that you won't care, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, the internets, TV and me are pals on May 13, 2008 by drbolte

hey you. facebook new guy who friend requested me apparently because we’re in the same department but who i do not know from adam. yeah, you.

while i’m sure that you think that’s it’s utterly charming to create dummy facebook profiles for the characters of bleak house, accompanied by pictures of the actors who brought them to life in the pbs miniseries, it’s creeping me out. i already don’t like the “people you might know” feature, and now it’s populated by fictional characters.

my life is surreal enough without you screwing with it. cut it out.

also…facebook chat? i think i might love it. but i can’t decide.

how is it that when i set out to condense my 60 page masters thesis into a 20 page essay, two things happened:

a) i realized that my writing was not nearly as assertive as it is now (yay for confidence!)

and

b) IT ULTIMATELY ENDED UP TOO SHORT.

someone explain how that happened. i think it had a little something to do with me being disillusioned with the crap and padding. but whatever. i still should have ended up with more than 17 pages.

grr.

the unholy attraction of the hills and why, after he busted into her meeting, heidi would leave with spencer WITHOUT EVEN CALLING HER BOSS TO TELL HIM OF HER PLAN.

discuss.

i need a fake tan. how? help me look not northern european pasty white but not damage my skin any more than it already is. i’m too old for that idiocy, i’ve decided.

i’m excessively tired of doing dishes.

this revelation just hit me today.

are you tired of a chore that won’t go away? can you make me feel better about my life? dishes, trash (which i have effectively managed to get out of for like eight months now…i have no idea how except that i have amazing roommates), and ripping up stupid credit card offers that come in the mail so that i don’t get my identity stolen are my least. favorite. things. ever. except for maybe the gynecologist. yeah, that one tops them all. but i feel like that’s a given, right girls?

so, yeah…long story short too late…dishes. hate them.

just realized i didn’t pay my car payment today when it was the last day to do it without seeming like a giant bill flake.

super.

updated to say: they told me i have to wait “another week or two” to find out fellowship results. could they just shoot me, pour honey all over me, stick me in the hot burning sun on top of an anthill instead? that would be kinder.

freaking bureaucracy. give me MY MONEY! mine. mine. mine.

i think. i hope. bah.

i’m just profusely sorry about the five-year-old kid nature of this post, the whole “and then, this happened, and then, this happened and then, this happened, and then there was cake!” of it all, but…it’s how i feel. i’m all ADD girl lately.

and now i want some cake.

and if it wasn’t 2:20 a.m., i’d go buy some.

because sometimes, you just need some cake.

i need all the chances i can get.

Posted in blogging, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, the internets on May 12, 2008 by drbolte

hey!

need some money? some TARGET money? to buy cute shoes or shorts or shirts or a big pile of paper towels?

go here and enter to win (or click the button below)!

we all could use some magical bounty in our lives, couldn’t we? i know i could.

things that unexpectedly happen on a random wednesday at 6 p.m. that make you want to throw something.

Posted in drama drama drama, etcetera, grrrrr., someday I'll be a real middle class girl, yet another reason why i don't understand men on May 7, 2008 by drbolte

dear liberal-minded acquaintance,

i know that we share things in common–we’re older, we’re in grad school, we are somewhat disillusioned with mormon singlehood–but don’t you judge me for shopping at wal-mart.

(this really happened, btw.)

i can appreciate and even respect that you don’t like wal-mart or their business practices. actually, i quite admire people who feel fervently about things that i don’t necessarily feel that fervently about. sometimes their attitudes make me rethink my own. but usually that doesn’t happen when i’m told, rather judgmentally, that by shopping at the rollback center of the universe, i am contributing to treating people in other countries like modern day slaves.

number one. what i do or do not care about is really none of your business.

number two. just because i shop there doesn’t mean i don’t care. it means that, right now, i value the fiscal savings over whatever small impact my boycott of a national supercenter behemoth might have on the larger issues a capitalist economy has on the world. when i have a real job and more of a discretionary income, how about i shop at target? will that make the world safe for democracy? excuse me while i doubt it.

number three. when you lecture me about things that you think i am uneducated in, all you do is make me angry. everything has a cost, as you were so quick to remind me. so…the cost is that i don’t respect you much at all anymore. how about you stop living in the black and white world that’s so easy for you, where you are always right and everyone else is always wrong, and come join us in the very grey world that i live in.

basically, let’s just agree that you don’t lecture me and i don’t talk to you about my shopping experiences. oh, and fyi…anarchy isn’t any less a political groupthink than being republican or independent or libertarian. stop thinking you’re so cool and above being american. it’s really annoying.

i appreciate it. thanks.

this post brought to you by the “shameless self-promotion” department.

Posted in books are bliss, disney princesses got nothin' on me, i'm so much cooler online, Life, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, teaching on April 4, 2008 by drbolte

yes.

i am published.

in an actual book.

(that you can find here.)

what’s that? what’s the name of this brilliant article?

(i’m so glad that you asked.)

my article is called “‘normal is the watchword’: exiling cultural anxieties and redefining desire from the margins” and is it brilliant?

why, yes it is. AND it’s about veronica mars and buffy the vampire slayer…which means (GASP!) it was FUN to write and research.

also, freaky times when you google yourself and see that someone is talking about YOUR MASTERS THESIS in terms like “i’m looking forward to mining bolte’s work for additional resources.”

(but WHHHAAAAT?!?)

i remember when both of these things were just embroyos of documents on my computer…how trippy is that?!? and now they’re both like for real publications that people read.

i’m flipping out a little.

and doing a little happy happy joy joy dance in my soul.

(it’s nice to realize that you’re actually moving, progressing…and that you have a hopeful future in your chosen profession.)

letters the third.

Posted in faith is action, family, friends, ghetto life, i love my life, my amazing mother, perfect brightness of hope, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, Uncategorized, wish i may wish i might on March 7, 2008 by drbolte

dear crazy weather that belongs not in winter,

i understand that terms like “rotation” and “warning” are meant to make me be smart and take cover. what they really make me want to do is crawl back under the covers and hum a little tune loudly until it’s all over. either that or go screaming madly around town, possibly saying something along the lines of “it’s the end of the world!”

(and i don’t feel fine about it, fyi.)

so, if you could NOT bring your tornado self quite so close to my ghetto-but-loved apartment with its inhabitants, furry, human, and reptile, that would be swell.

many thanks,

the girl who thinks flying monkeys and a tin man don’t quite make up for the head trauma.

dear dr. ng,

you frickin’ rock. thanks for the clean margins and for having an amazing bedside manner for a surgeon. i watch grey’s anatomy occasionally. i know how bad it could be. instead, you make mom confident–and that makes me happy.

may your practice thrive and your name be praised throughout all the land,

your newest groupie/fan.

hey law school girl.

yeah, you!

i love and appreciate you more than you know. you deserve every good thing. i couldn’t be getting through all this without you. or i could, but there’d be a lot more of the crazy.

and you KNOW where the crazy leads.

someday we’ll be friends in the same time zone again. i can’t wait!

your gchat partner in crime.

dear REM sleep cycle (not to be confused with the supremely amazing band to whom i referred a few short lines ago),

please give me a break. i’ve had one sublimely great night’s sleep since i got back. i’m headed for futon land again tomorrow. please? for the love of my sanity, could i sleep…a lot and well?

in case this request is at all unclear, this would include NOT the following: ambient noise that wakes me up enough to not sleep well but not enough to be awake and productive (hello thunderstorms and dripping rain spouts outside my window), loud neighbors, tossing and turning, fitfulness, nightmares, the phone ringing, or anything else that could possibly disturb me.

also, if you could throw me another one of the dreams like i had night before last (aka the sublime sleep night), that would be super. appreciate it more than i can say.

many thanks and all that (we won’t mention that this is your JOB). don’t make me quote hamlet and that to sleep perchance to dream junk.

awcrapijustdidit,

the girl who is just craving the covers to be pulled over her head.

dear you,

you can’t burn a bridge and then rebuild it out of twine and a prayer and expect it to hold the weight of a real friendship.

please stop trying. my attempts to navigate this are swiftly becoming the straws that might just break this camel’s back.

yours in cliched phrasing, chillin’ on my side of the proverbial water,

me.

to whom it clearly refers:

you are my optimistic cheerleader, my valiant support system, my crazy comedy show, my stuffed giraffe hug. you are merry-go-rounds and card games, road trips and pumpkins, waiting in line and getting lost in traffic. you are random silly quotes that make me laugh and surprising kindness that makes me cry. you are inspiration and frustration. your writing is eloquent, your thoughts perceptive, your heart incredible. you are trustworthy. you are a dreamer. you show up. you have exquisite faith. you are beautifully flawed. you are you. people who think they know you don’t see the half of how amazing you truly are.

i do.

LOVE!

c.

inventory.

Posted in blogging, books are bliss, dissertation, drama drama drama, faith is action, ghetto life, holy smartness batman, i hate vegetables, i'm so much cooler online, my amazing mother, perfect brightness of hope, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, teaching, TV and me are pals on March 5, 2008 by drbolte

point 1:

26,973 conferences with students left. they’re actually not as bad as i thought they would be, possibly because students actually have done what i asked them to do (for the most part) and come prepared with questions and at least part of a draft. maybe it’s also because i am feeling fairly forgiving, during this midterm week, of those who aren’t as prepared as others. who knows?

and as i’m sitting here, blogging inbetween most of my appointments, i realized that i am literally like a doctor. (i know…you’re like DUH. a literature professor is a doctor. we get it. don’t beat that dead horse.) no, i mean a medical doctor. i was listening to one of my students talk about her paper, and about the trouble that she was having with it, and i realized…i am diagnosing writing diseases, writing ailments, that infect the whole composition and then prescribing remedies.

i am a doctor! hooray for me!

point 2:

hunger but the appearance of a sparse cabinet. i haven’t any idea whatsoever what to eat. this is not a “i should eat healthy–what am i going to eat?” situation. i was considering eating deep fried wontons stuffed with cream cheese yesterday. i don’t care at all right now. yet, i am poor enough to not consider eating out every day until saturday, when i go back home to chill with mom, but i am lazy enough/internally stressed enough that i don’t want to try to be creative in my “what can i whip up out of macaroni and a package of hot chocolate” delusions of grandeur. it’s not really that bad, but with three people’s food everywhere, i honestly forget sometimes what i have and what i don’t have. i fear this may mean eating…well…not well for this week, which is i think exactly the opposite of what i need to be doing.

point 3:

one lesson plan to do. that one i think will be cake. oh dear. did i just really say that? oh bleak house, how i love thee. how bleak house, how i wish that you were written by a woman writer so i could include you in my dissertation since i just got a brilliant idea yesterday while sitting in class. oh bleak house, how you mock me with your 1000 pages and yet make me feel so very accomplished to have not only read you twice but taught you successfully once. now to wrap you up in a tidy package that engages issues of victorian crisis of confidence. that’s the task, you see. it’s so easy to just talk about the crazy characters for weeks. now? now i must make meaning out of it! it’s a task that makes me think of the lady in the water kid who reads cereal boxes. you know, it’s important, but it’s a little bit ridiculous at times too.

i am almost a doctor. yay for me. sigh.

point 4:

how i feel. i can’t describe it. i tried for my mom who, poor soul, is actually worried about ME rather than herself (i think that she would find some reason to be worried about me, because it keeps her thinking about things other than herself and i TOTALLY understand that, but i was legitimately so tired and worn out and stressed out this weekend that i understand why she would be…i was a little bit worried about me myself). the best i could do was to describe it as when there are so many things going on and you can’t quite get a handle on any of them–there’s just too much. so, instead, you sort of disengage and proceed on, feeling a little like a disembodied head floating around. that’s how i feel. it’s WEIRD, i don’t like it, and i don’t know why it is. my mind is working, working, working all of the time…but on what? it’s not as if i’ve achieved anything. instead, i feel like things are slipping through the cracks (although i actually am on top of most everything, thanks to the power of prayer and the Spirit bringing all things to my remembrance). i feel disconnected to most things that, i guess, seem unimportant to me. but i also feel TOO connected to things that are completely unimportant–twizzlers, stupid people and their stupid lives, sleeping too much, TV. i guess i feel pretty much like i’m running on empty and i’m doing whatever it is that i need to do, whatever occurs to me, to make the engine keep going just a little bit longer.

and i’m taking airborne, on the off chance that this “running on empty” feeling actually is, in fact, me running on immune-system empty.

point 5:

is it friday yet?!? please? pretty please?
point 6:

the people on facebook sort of scare me. i mean, i’m on facebook. i love facebook most days. i have something like 4300+ wall posts in the two years that i’ve been on there (yeah…i’m sickly proud). but now everybody’s on it (oh…days when it was only the college students, where art thou?) and there are five million applications and people use it as a therapy mechanism. listen. i have a blog. i love my blog. i speak honestly on my blog, but i understand that a) i am not really as anonymous on here as i think since people that i know and love read it and 2) it’s nevertheless completely separate from my real life and i’m not forcing anybody to read it, so i can say what i want and whine if i need to.

sometimes…people on facebook forget that i know them. i know what they’re talking about. and if they want to, say, be 12 year old girls about stuff and fight with their friends via their status updates i will, in fact, think that they are being 12 year old girls when they are…not. or if you post that picture that makes you look crazy, i’m going to think you’re crazy. or if you post albums full of you taking pictures of yourself (hey…i’ve done it…glorious photobooth inauguration), i’m going to think you’re really that bored or vain. facebook sucks you in, makes you think that you have a supportive community when, really, what you have is essentially a room full of people trying to look good themselves and thinking about/talking to themselves and their friends and their inside plans/jokes. so…please stop whining in your status updates. i’m working hard not to do it myself because, honestly, nobody really needs to hear it. or, if you’re going to whine, please at least do it creatively, okay?

point 7:

how cool is it when you get a dissertation idea from talking about a passage of poetry with a student? SO cool.

how much does it suck that it’s out of my period and i’ll have to put it in my epilogue? SO much.

how awesome is it that i even GOT an idea for my dissertation? SO awesome.

how many questions can i write in this way? SO many.

how much do you wish this post was over?

yeah, me too.

perplexing.

Posted in disney princesses got nothin' on me, etcetera, faith is action, family, magic, my amazing mother, perfect brightness of hope, someday I'll be a real middle class girl, the joys of living in Florida, wish i may wish i might on February 29, 2008 by drbolte

things i don’t understand:

–the appeal of twizzlers when i’m under stress.

–why i still eat papa john’s pizza. it’s so gross.  and by gross, i mean i can’t quite ignore how disgustingly bad it is for me as i’m eating it and i feel awful after i do.

–how a grad student with two kids can afford prada anything.   am i missing something?  some fountain of money that is available to the intelligent?

–why i am suddenly really worried about wrinkles and how old i’m looking.  am i looking older?  is it my imagination? is that even a BAD thing?

–how people can be so utterly and completely wonderful to complete and total strangers like they were today to me and my mom.

–why i seem to be more tired than mom does today, and she’s the one who had surgery. i’m thrashed.

–why i even still think about/secretly wish for/anticipate the things that i do, even when i pray for them not to happen because i know it’s best for my sanity that they don’t.  it must be a sign of my stressed-out mental state.

–how these past few weeks have completely crawled and yet flown at the same time.

–what i will do to earn $2200 by october for the 3 day. i don’t even really have any idea how to start. if i could raise that much money, wouldn’t i NOT be in debt?

–my crazy indecipherable life with its astoundingly engaging and hilarious cast of characters.

just one more adoring fan

Posted in ghetto life, Life, me, shopping, someday I'll be a real middle class girl on January 4, 2008 by drbolte

I went to the car wash today.

Let’s just say it doesn’t see me or my little zippy car that I named once but now can’t remember the name…sad, right?…that often.  Like dusting, car washes just sort of fall by the wayside.

But when the accumulated dust on your dashboard has made you forget that you actually have a charcoal-colored interior, it’s long past time to visit.  It helps that Mom offered to pay (possibly because the guru of keeping her car clean and neat was horrified at the state of mine).  Really, it does.

But wow, did those 15 year olds who work the car was hate me.  Oh yeah. They did.

They had to scrub very hard to get the remnants of my birthday car paint (the one that said HOTT Birthday Girl on my driver’s side window) off. You remember how long that’s been, right?

Yeah.

And we’ve already talked about the dust.  And, also, I live in an area where there were lots of falling debris from…well..fall.  And since who really vacuums out their car without washing it?  I mean…they vacuum it when I get the oil changed (yes, I do take care of the engine…I promise), but they only do the bare minimum.  I had accumulated debris from all of the leaves in four different states and the last vestiges of a beach trip that…well, let’s just say that vacuuming up that leftover sand will be good for the “onward, better brighter and more amazing carrie who deserves much more” 2008 agenda.

So, you can imagine…by the time they were done, they had cursed my name and wished me ill in many creative ways.

I tried to be adorable and nice…and let’s be honest, it’s not hard for me to be those things…but I’m not sure it completely made up for the fact that my car was a trash hole that they guaranteed to be a clean and neat beautiful vehicle worthy of songs of praise.

It was, by the end. I mean, it’s not perfect, but it’s a darn sight better than it was.

I’ll just add all of those curses on my name to the pile offered by my students.

Poor adorable car wash attendant. Didn’t know what hit him.

I think that happens a lot when people encounter me.

I LOVE that.