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“ I have never been really able to believe that human affairs were serious matters. I had no idea where the serious might lie, except that it was not in all this I saw around me - which seemed to me merely an amusing game, or tiresome.
—

-Albert Camus, The Fall

Am I right or am I right?  Or is Camus right?

posted : Monday, September 7th, 2009

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This is one of those times where I am too tired—emotionally and physically—to exist as a human being.  It is most accurately described as feeling empty, dead, or hollow inside.

posted : Wednesday, July 15th, 2009

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“ Can I ask you a personal question? Are you enough of a Berkeley Hippie to take our plastic bottles and cans to the recycling center when the recycle is full?
—

My boss.

After searching deep inside my personal self, I realized that, yes, I am.

posted : Thursday, July 2nd, 2009

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Greek sums up my feelings about therapy

  • Rebecca: My dad sent me to a therapist because he was convinced I was a shopaholic.
  • Evan: Really?
  • Rebecca: It was great. The therapist helped me see that I was buying all sorts of expensive crap, which I was, to get back at my father for treating me like some kind of prop in his political career.
  • Evan: So did you stop?
  • Rebecca: No, but now when I do it, I know why.

posted : Friday, June 12th, 2009

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Better to teach kids than to birth them!

Thinking about my most-Berkeleyan-possible occupations: Began with executive assistant for a nonprofit.  Then went into green business intern.  Now possibly inner-city teacher with a side of feminist/ Anti-“every single thing on the market is aimed at making women feel awful about themselves”-activist.

People always told me that Berkeley was where I belonged, but it was only recently that I realized how easily all these liberal tendencies come to me.  Guess that is where the “hippie” label comes from!

The “mommy” label I’ve yet to figure out since being pregnant is the last thing I ever want to do.  It combines so many things that I fear or hate: getting fat—and in such a gross way because my entire belly will stretch out, being put on bed rest, having unrelenting stomach issues, going through intense pain, and shooting huge objects out of little holes.  Not even shooting, more like pushing painfully and slowly.  Oh yeah, and losing control of my bowels in a room full of people (thanks for cluing me in to that one, Dan!).

In conclusion, becoming a teacher may be scary, but it’s probably not a big deal compared to crapping yourself in a room full of strangers AND YOUR HUSBAND as a giant head emerges from your (not-quite-)enormous(-enough), dilated vagina.  Whew.

Love,
Caitlin

posted : Friday, June 12th, 2009

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The General Motors Creative Think-Tank.

I am about to kill somebody.  I made 12 peanut butter cookies this afternoon and ate seven of them tonight—one for each hour that I have cried over the past two days.  Seriously.  It’s been one of those weekends, beginning on Friday (not included in the seven crying cookie hours because if I added all that I cried on Friday I would have needed to bake a double-batch) when I sat on the couch with a heating pad and bawled because of my carless, restless, happyless life.  Something about everyone else’s commitments taking precedence over mine because I don’t have a car.  Sometimes I make valid points even when I’m crazy; I just make them in a more “we’ve always suspected she should be on medication but this really confirms it” sort of way.

Cookies greatly improved my night, and I happily munched through the basketball game and the beginning of the Tonys.  Unfortunately, I finished eating two hours ago, so my cookie-happy is wearing off and people are telling me to dispose of the smelly beans that I left in the fridge.  I would eat another cookie right now, but 1. I’ve not cried quite enough for that, and 2. I’m still really full from the previous seven, plus frosting, cream cheese, two biscuits, and a giant bowl of ice cream.

Hopefully tomorrow is better!  And hopefully next week is REALLY better because I start teaching on the 16th and the students should be the only people crying at school (we are very strict)!  Plus, experience shows that it’s hard for others to understand me through a veil of tears and a fit of screams.

I’m not all depressed though!  Some great things:

  • Dan, as always!
  • My peanut butter cookies, duh
  • Free samples!
  • Gluten-free gnocchi, and a new favorite place to eat Italian food!
  • Sarah Haskins
  • The new GM commercial If you ever need cheering up, watch this commercial and imagine its origins!  I envision a room full of GM executives, facilitated by a therapist, and probably being observed by a film/production/creative team. “Guys, I feel like our company is a true American a hero.  Like, I don’t know, like I’m an amputee who is rising against all odds to learn to run again.  Anyone else get that?”  “Oh man, I am so there right now!  I feel, I feel like a natural disaster just ripped through my heart and now I have to start from scratch to rebuild—like one of those selfless volunteer who constructs homes for the needy.  Ya know?”  “Yes, YES!  And…football!”

Goodnight.

Love,
Caitlin

PS: Congratulations Dan for making it on to White Wine and for having such high-caliber friends!

posted : Sunday, June 7th, 2009

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On my mind today:

Marriage: Yea or Nay?  I’m leaning toward Nay-ver.

Kids are cute, I like them.  (I guess it’s good I’ll be a teacher, since, according to the above, I will not have kids of my own! [Yes my mind works parenthetically]).

You never notice your boobs and butt until they are the only ones in the entire pool.  And until they have outgrown Speedo’s ability to cover them.

I ate peanut butter in my room today and now my room smells like peanut butter.

Trader Joe’s Brown Rice California Roll everyday of everylife?  Yes.

Love,
Caitlin

posted : Tuesday, June 2nd, 2009