Jessie

Once upon a time there were three little comp students. The three little comp students lived on a beautiful sunny campus far far away. One day, the three little comp students were given essay assignments by their comp professors. "I need you to take these assignments to yonder Writing Center and bring back final drafts," their professors told the three little comp students. So they packed up their laptops and began their journey.

The first little comp student's assignment was about ethical and unethical interactions on Facebook. "I just need to get my grammar checked," said the first little comp student. "My paper condemns cyberbullying by telling all Facebookers that using Facebook for purposes of criticism is unethical." But woe, the first little comp student's argument failed to differentiate between (ethical) criticism and (unethical) abuse and harassment, since the first little comp student's limited worldview included only Facebook interactions which were friendly in nature and based on a theoretically level plane of power relations, as opposed to the multiple uses of Facebook which come from a multiplicity of sociopolitical perspectives. And the first little comp student got lost in the woods of argument revision, with the 5 pm deadline fast approaching.

The second little comp student's assignment was about evaluating Inside Job as an ideal example of the documentary film genre. "I just need to check my MLA citations," said the second little comp student. But the second little comp student set up his criteria for ideal documentary film by privileging film style and narration techniques and ignoring all responsible journalistic ethos and political importance, thereby allowing it to win a few counterargument battles before it met its match against the dreaded So What.

The third little comp student had no paper at all, only a prompt from his comp professor and some scribbled notes from his last journey to the Writing Center. "I am not a good writer," said the third little comp student. "I am a computer scientist and electrical engineer who thought I would not be writing more papers after high school." The writing consultant asked how he was having trouble with this assignment. The third little comp student said, "My professor wants me to talk about how online communications technology has changed humanity. The last consultant I talked to pushed me to write about how online communication devolves interpersonal relationships into a self-absorbed, base voyeurism, devoid of rich intimacy. I guess I have to write that. I want to get an A." The third little comp student and the consultant were sad for awhile, until the consultant asked, "Do you really believe that?" and the student said "No." Because as a socially awkward teen with very specific interests, the third little comp student said, the internet has helped him express himself and make friends more than any in-person interactions have. And lo, then the Brainstorm came, and the third little comp student made a list of people who are helped by the internet and decided that it was wrong to characterize the means these people use to socially interact, share art, get support, and make relationships with other people, as base and craven.

And so, the third little comp student went off into the essay with a mission, and that mission was both to speak truth to power and kick ass.

~~~---THE END---~~~

I have a new follower today, so I will break down how this livejournal works for you:

1. It doesn't.

2. I used to post in it a lot? Like when I was a sad little high school kid. Most of the posts are from then! I am not a sad little high school kid anymore. Like, now I am a little more understanding that other people, besides me, have feelings. And I identify as an out-and-proud bisexicle, instead of all-the-way-gay. This still surprises some of my high school friends, because I have not kept in contact with them very well, and some of them were guys, and some of these guys end up astounded that I didn't want to date them in high school, even though apparently I also liked guys the whole time? They are confused, and after that I don't feel that bad about losing touch. HIGH SCHOOL! IT WAS A TOUGH TIME. So then for part of college I was like, "I must be a lesbian because (a) I like girls, and (b) I was not interested in any of the high school guys!" and that identity worked out until I noticed that there is also a part (c) of "there are other guys besides dumb high school guys you feel no attraction for, and now you need a new word for what you are." So now I have to be okay with the word bisexual bisexicle.

3. Most of the content of this blog is about OH WOE IS ME; I HAVE CONSERVATIVE FUNDAMENTALIST BIGOT PARENTS. I still have conservative fundamentalist bigot parents, but I have learned some healthy strategies for having conservative fundamentalist bigot parents, like, being honest with them, and, having boundaries. We see each other not very much anymore, because they live in a different time zone from me. And when we do see each other, they try not to trample all over me with their Christian bigot stuff, because they know I will tell them how wrong they are because my feelings are allowed to matter now too. It annoys them, but I am okay with being Annoying To Fundamentalism as part of my identity.

4. I spent most of high school 100% convinced that I was not only going to be a biotechnical engineer, but also be THE BEST AND SMARTEST AND MOST SUCCESSFUL BIOTECH ENGINEER EVAR, AND THEN THEY WILL SEE, OH, WILL THEY SEE. So this built a lot of my identity, as a Future Person of Science, and it also sounds like a supervillain backstory. I tried that out for a semester of real college and I found out right away that being SUPER ENGINEER JESSIE made me way more miserable than just cutting down my enemies with my awesome statements of THEN YOU WILL SEE. So I became an English Writing major. No, I don't know what I'm going to to with that. But, rather than making me miserable, my area of study enriches my life and makes me laugh and cry and want to create and tease out meaning in the world around me. So that is okay.

5. What are the other things you should know about this blog? It is still open to the public (mostly) because I originally wanted it to function as a sort of It Gets Better statement, but the downside to that is that even the Past Persona of Scared Sad High School Kid is not 100% sympathetic or appealing. Past Jessie, among other things, is an obnoxious oversharer and not totally conscious of stepping on other people's identities as she struggles to find her own. She did things like: Out people as disabled, or financially struggling! Tell her friends they are not good friends, passive aggressively! Paint her faults and discourtesies as hilarious incidences whose responsibility she is not involved in! She can be a little asshole, much like a real high school kid would!

6. I don't know what to do with it now. I really don't want future employers to find it, or, like, worse - future fans maybe? Or, like, kids and grandkids, if I opt for those (???) oh god I just got really scared by that possibility, because people my age are having kids on purpose now and that is not a choice I want to think about for like ten years because I still think of myself as a kid. ANYWAY. Maybe I should delete the whole thing, but look! There are like over 500 posts in it, which represent a significant investment of time by my High School Self. I knew my aunt read it at some point, and my sort-of-cousin, and my mom (through my sister), and geez I don't know, there is nothing private about it anymore, if there ever was, which was maybe one more oversight on my part. Or maybe it was on purpose?

7. I don't follow any particular fandom? I just sort of latch on to some as they come and go and don't have particularly strong feelings about fandom community. I've never written for fandom. If you are not a spambot and you're not really into memes or fandom, Livejournal is not really the place for you anymore. But I will let you know when I move somewhere else.

Dad copied me on an email to Mom saying he got me back on BlueCross, effective January 2011, even though they canceled it when I turned 22. Thanks, Obamacare! (He actually did call it Obamacare, because of course he would.) So, suck it, insurance providers who want me to buy my own healthcare right now. I'm coasting for four more years, bitches.

But apparently what they do when you fill out the paperwork to get your 22-year-old daughter back on your BlueCross insurance that they didn't do before is ask you whether she has the same last name or if she's changed it. BECAUSE, DUH, MARRIAGE. Which I guess struck him so, that he asked in this email: "First time I've gotten that question on one of the girls... How's that make you feel, Mom?" I guess this is what it looks like when old people commiserate about being old and having daughters who are old and can't buy their own insurance. CAT'S IN THE CRADLE AND THE SILVER SPOON.

So of course I email back that I ain't changing my stupid last name for anybody! I'm a feminist. And thanks for the healthcare, Mom, Dad, Obama. I love you guys.

Me: I went to a straight bar this weekend.

Caleb: You did?

Matthew: What was it like?

Me: People drank beer! And they watched sports on wall-mounted TVs! No one sang Miley Cyrus, and there were business majors there.

Matthew: Then the drag queens must have really stood out.

Me: You're not going to believe this, but... there were no drag queens at all.

Caleb: WAT

I think maybe I'm in a place where I can write again. Here's what it feels like. It feels like I am allowed to be angry when, before, I was telling myself and telling myself not to show anger, because I would lose everything. You'd think this new freedom would make me calm, but it doesn't. And that's good. Fuck calm. It feels like I have woken up and I am hungry and I have sharp teeth.

So it's 3 pm, you're the last one in the office for the day, and you REALLY NEED CHOCOLATE CAKE RIGHT GODDAMN NOW. ( Whatcha gonna do about it? )

So my boss asks me to step in for her lecturing a class. "Okay," I say, tentatively. "What is the lecture about?"

( Lions. Just, all about them. Everything that you know about lions. )

To celebrate my last day off before I fly back to Oklahoma, tomorrow I am going to see Avatar in IMAX 3D with my Old Jewish Hippie friend Connie and her electrical engineer husband, Marshall. We're sneaking in Outside Popcorn because we are rugged theater denizens who are too cool for the rules. The plan* has been in the works for weeks now.

* Marshall's engineering skills will come in handy if we find that we have to cross any laser grids, and I don't know any Kung Fu, but I have been watching a lot of it on television, so I might be able to fake out the guys with the vests and the red-tinted flashlights, if it so happened that push were to come to shove and they didn't have any AVI bootleggers to bother instead.

Other than planning covert corn-eating operations, my efforts in Indiana have mostly amounted to:

1. Closing my mouth to prevent entrance of flying meat particles, exit of offensive words
2. Not thinking about anything related to college or drinking
3. Trying to remain become warm

I have not always been successful in these efforts, most notably with the third, because it is Indiana and it is winter, a cursed time when pantlegs are steeped in road salt and The Sun abandons humanity.

Instead of a sun, though, I have had family around to give me cheer - this Christmas featured an appearance from The Amazing-2D-Dad, who lives simultaneously in front of a webcam in Kabul and as a talking laptop image in our house. Mom and Pete, as always, are wonderful to sing Beyonce with. Sarah, as always, is way cooler than me but is also more interested in being liked by people who treat her badly. Tom is made very uncomfortable by my existence, ability to speak, etc, and has been waiting very patiently for me to go away, only rarely succumbing to the desire to put me in my place when I bring up corrosive arguments like how maybe we all, in general, shouldn't give so much of a damn about our bad reputations.

At least in hell, I'll be warm.

I have had this blog for a couple years now, and it has helped me through some bad times, but it has also changed a lot, I think. I think I have always held the view that we go off into the world to bring back stories for ourselves and our friends - but unless all you want to hear about are my deli stories, well, just, I am having a hard time convincing you that sneaking popcorn into a movie is a noteworthy act, is all. Pretty much all the people I meaningfully interact with are readers already, and I don't really have any areas of expertise - children, politics, tech culture, crafting, fandom, music - that other bloggers have. I could try awkward fiction, but being an English major is already a gamble without working for free on top of it. I could make shit for you and scan it. I know a blog that's just a record sheet for killing spiders. Maybe I could do that. I will think of something.

Oh, and quick question: does the 3D effect in movie files work if it's in a bootlegged download? Do you need the same exact glasses from the theater or can they be different ones? Just a hypothetical.

Closed the deli last night with Little Krystal and Mexican Maggie (both under age 25), with whom I shared sympathy about their two-year-olds keeping them awake. "Just wait until you have one," says Maggie, and then she and Krystal laugh together, knowingly, as if reproduction were simply a matter of waiting around. Earlier, Maggie had asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend, and the best I could come up with was, "Well, they seem to be awfully complicated." At ten pm, they both went home to theirs. I went home to be the only source of movies with cussing and nudity in my household - you know, good movies.

It's not a bad life.

And I don't even read het:



A smiley face? Megan Phelps, you saucy minx.

This is why you should all stalk celebrities' twitters on Google Reader. (Bless you, Google Reader. Bless you.) If any of you can write @michaelianblack/@meganphelps fic, I will personally deliver makeouts to your face.

EDIT: This is a lot easier than screenshotting.