I don't know how you could live through a week like we've had in the Northeast and not believe in global warming. First it's 60 degrees out -- great! it's spring! -- then it's 50 and raining -- fine, whatever, April showers -- then it's 94 degrees outside and your roommates are turning on the air conditioning and it's hot when you wake up under the comforter and it's not July so why is this happening already. Oh, yeah, then it's going back down into the 50s tomorrow.

Even if you say it's the natural cycles of the universe, it's still, on a micro, local, I'm-sweating through-my-clothes-and-I-just-left-the-apartment kind of way, pretty bizarre.

Today I did something that made me feel like an adult, and a really old person, and a kind of young person, all at once.

I bought a subscription to the print edition of newspaper. This makes me feel like an adult, because since I'm no longer a dependent or a student, newspapers don't suddenly fall from the sky. And also because, now that they've stopped falling from the sky*, I suddenly have some desire to read them (on Sunday mornings, before I change out of my pajamas/what I wore out the night before, maybe with coffee). And then it makes me feel like a really old person, because I'm buying a print paper and also because I'm getting the Observer and my purchase was (at least in part) inspired by an article in the Times about how much-beloved editor Peter Kaplan is leaving, which means I clearly missed the boat on what everyone else thought was a substantial and wonderful period in the paper's history. And then it makes me feel young because, rather than thinking of it as paying for a service I needed, I kind of think paying for the print edition is like a charitable donation because I could totally read all the articles online at work except that I want print journalism to keep existing. Also, because I don't really have time to add more online publications to my repertoire. Also, because I subscribed to the Observer, not the Times, and because I did this since I know I don't have the attention span or the free time on weekday mornings to accomodate a daily.

Next stop: The Weekender.


*There is some nerd-relevant "make it rain" reference to be made here, perhaps.

A new poem

by the great David Kant.

What exactly they
want interms of
exchange, can artists
apply at large?

(c) 2009

Sexism is a funny thing. Not "ha ha" funny, but like... weird, funny.

Like, as a woman, I don't feel like I've been actively discriminated against personally, despite working in a male-dominated industry and a male-dominated aspect of that industry. But I definitely notice instances in which women are treated differently (like someone was just described as "always being pregnant" when she only has 2 kids, which isn't evil and nefarious, just not something you'd every say about a man... because men don't have babies...) and there are definitely instances of man time, when we have to look for our bosses because they've all disappeared together. But that's not evil and nefarious, just a little bit of a hassle. Like the fact that my computer is slow or the air conditioning turns off at quarter to six every night.

In my mind, because my office is predominantly young-ish and liberal-ish and unconventional[-ish], we'll be insulated from those nasty old school woes. But maybe that's a matter of yet? Hopefully not.