Wow. It’s been a long time since i’ve moved in an unbelievable rush. Actually, i remember the biggest rush. It was 1997 and i was trying to move into the coops. And Dean Desrochers was being Dean Desrochers and refusing to let me move, because i was only a second semester first year and i needed the proper environment for my education (as though the drunken puking frat boys were the proper environment). So, i begged and pleaded and then did my research, only to find out that they had overbooked midyears by a hundred so i convinced him based on logic. Only problem is that i convinced him at 3:30PM and he told me that if i had returned my keys by 5PM, i was allowed off campus. Like the angel that he is, my dear friend Glenn picked up garbage bags and his car and came a runnin’ and we booked through my room in 1.5 hours.

This time, it took more like 12. But i have a lot more stuff. And now, i’m in PA with a large Ryder truck full of stuff, cause i have a lot of stuff. Of course, home is the only place that you can always take your stuff, even if you intend to be homeless for months on end. Ah yes, the power of a digitla life.

Now, i am just longing to finish the thesis and start booking through this intriguing country – off to Fusion and Burning Man in less than a month!!

Every time that i spend any time with Eve Ensler and the V-Day folks, i’m always emotionally overwhelmed. This time was no different. Since i was tearing down the exhibit, i missed the Gujarat press event (systematic raping in India). But that wasn’t all of the considerations for the day… During the evening, we got to think deeply about the issues of rape and violence, through the viewing of video clippings from the opening of the Safe Place on Native Land and the creation of a Safe House in Kenya).

As much as i love working with V-Day, i am constantly overwhelmed by the issues whenever i get in too closely, whenever i have to hear the stories and see the images. I remember that about producing V-Day events – it was always hard to hear people’s horrific stories. Yet, i love helping, i love trying to make it better, trying to make it never happen again. At the same time, i’m just not emotionally equipped to always be on the front line. I’m so much better at creating the technologies to help people, to work behind the seens. As much as some people are motivated by the gore, i’m stunned by it, and become incapable of functioning. ::sigh:: Still trying to figure out if that’s a good thing or if it just makes me weak…

I *love* bellhops. Love love love love bellhops.

I’m going to explode, implode, go insane. Sometimes, i want to shoot myself for getting myself into these binds that involve too much chaos for me to feel comfortable that everything/anything is going to work out. It all started with that damn exhibit. Well, no one is in town to tear it down, so guess who’s gotta go to New York by herself and tear it down? Well, that’s fab, if i didn’t also have to be at a meeting in New York, while my head is on my thesis. Plus, shit for V-Day needs to come together by September 1. And to top it off, i realized this afternoon that i absolutely must move ASAP because the stress level is only going to get worse.

So the next three days require me to pick up a rental car tomorrow morning, drive to New York, pack up the show, drive to the hotel, unpack the show, go to a photo shoot, sleep, go to meetings, repack up the show, drive to Boston, unpack the the show, move everything from my office to my house, pack up my house, return the rental car, pick up the rental van, finish packing my house, pack up the rental van, drive myself to PA, unpack the rental van, figure out how to get back to Boston.

Needless to say, i collapsed tonite, broke down and started crying. Well, first i started getting all giggly and hysterical. And then i tried to find someone to help me. And then i realized that wasn’t going to happen so i went kinda batty and curled up in a ball, which didn’t help the packing nor my sanity. I feel like i’m juggling the kinds of shit that i juggled when i did Tracy.

And shit, i’m too wrung up to eat or sleep. Shit. I hate this feeling. Anxiety sucks. Goal number one for the fall: no more anxiety-driven energy.

By journalist Sydney J. Harris (and thanks to the pointer from Jeff, who loves to collect and distribute interesting readings):

It’s odd, and a little unsettling, to reflect upon the fact that English is the only major language in which “I” is capitalized; in many other languages “You” is capitalized and the “i” is lower case.

The primary purpose of a liberal education is to make one’s mind a pleasant place in which to spend one’s leisure.

Most people are mirrors, reflecting the moods and emotions of the times; few are windows, bringing light to bear on the dark corners where troubles fester. The whole purpose of education is to turn mirrors into windows.

Once we assuage our conscience by calling something a “necessary evil,” it begins to look more and more necessary and less and less evil.

We have not passed that subtle line between childhood and adulthood until we move from the passive voice to the active voice–that is, until we stop saying “It got lost,” and say “I lost it.”

During my dinner break out by the lake, i was rereading a section in The Unbearable Lightness of Being where the doctor talks about his relationship with women and his wife, discussing the possible roles of a man in the pursuit of women. As the book is wont to make me do, my mind quickly wandered from the book to a state of internal discussion about the descriptions of relationships.

We are trained to label all of our relationships with people – daughter, friend, student, lover, etc. These labels provide roles and those roles come with expectations. When one fails to live up to the expectations, one is seen as a bad daughter/friend/student/lover. Even within these labels, we have to evaluate the magnitude of our role there. I hated the middle school negotiations between friend and best friend. The latter implied a large committment, a stronger bond, and a greater responsibility…

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