Hugo Pooed in the House

I didn't get a picture, but Hugo pooed in the bedroom floor tonight. I saw him do it so maybe it was my fault. I was reading for Methods class and watched him wee wee on his wee wee pad in the bedroom, then he started sniffing around it and by the time he'd assumed the squat position and I realized what was happening, it was too late. But it was ok. I took him right outside and it was solid so easy to clean.
He's such a sweet puppy.
Anyway, we came back in and I was talking to him about what I was doing this time last year. And I thought, "why am I not blogging evey day so I'll have a record of it?"
So I talked to Hugo some more, grabbed my glass of wine and opened the computer.
Hugo is pulling at my pyjama legs right now but if I ignore him long enough he gives up.
Anyway, today was all right I guess.
Only slightly depressing.
I still feel scared that I won't be able to finish all my papers on time and I'll flunk out. So today I was even thinking about looking for a job as a manager (or even just as a worker) at Dominoes in Jasper. The stress I feel has been making my mouth get ulcers. And I don't even feel like talking to Sayed. Even though he ALWAYS makes me feel better.
I know I'm not stupider than the other cretins in my program. I just don't know if I can produce work as fast as I will need to here.
Anyway, I spent all day today working on a paper on that Tanagra figurine for Hellenistic (I found some Cupids with the same face veil so that is very promising. Or maybe they are Eros. Anyway, I didn't make much actual writing headway, but finding the cupids felt like a breakthrough.
And I didn't do any work on the Theban Tomb paper and that should be my priority. I have to meet with Dr. Robins tomorrow and tell her I didn't get anywhere over this past week.
Well, I did make a chronological powerpoint, but I still don't have all the images I need and now I'm confused about finding them.
I chose a painting to talk about for Methods - a watercolor and pencil of the Hypostyle Hall at the Temple of Isis at Philae. I love that temple and I hate/love Orientalizing art. It made me think maybe I should choose Orientalizing for my second subject instead of Medieval. Except I don't even know when Orientalizing is. I think it's like 19th century. Or maybe a little later.
I'm illustrating this with a painting by the Orientalist Frederick Bridgman from Alabama. And the watercolor by him that I want to present for Methods next week. And a picture of a Tanagra type figurine (not ours from the museum, but one very like it in Germany) and a cute-ass picture of Hugo. Because he's great.
But it all really makes me wonder, what WAS I doing one year ago today?
Today, is Hugo's 10 week birthday. And at least I have it recorded.
Oh, I forgot the part about the parade and the women in pink walking for cancer awareness. Hugo was scared of the parade and noise and then we joined the walkers and he kinda liked it. A little. They loved him - well, who doesn't?

Nag el Hamdulab

Rock carvings!
These were first identified and photographed in the 30s or so by an Egyptian Egyptologist, Labib Habachi. The photos were stored in the Chicago House at Luxor. Maria Catto has been working at this site in Aswan and reconstructed the images because, since Habachi photographed them, some IDIOTS have scratched at them and almost destroyed them. Probably in a fit of religious piety, thinking they were an affront to god.
These scenes were carved into the rock a little over 5,000 years ago. They date to around 3500 BCE, to the time between the Scorpion King and Narmer, and they show a mixture of royal festival iconography that bridges the differences in the early examples of these scenes. The earliest focused on boats while slightly later ones focused on the king and beasts. This one has both. The king with a dog and retainers carrying flags and boats.
So some lame-ass religious zealot almost erased a fascinating and potentially important part of history, out of misguided religious duty. This is one reason why I don't like religion.

Rock Stars

So, I don't have any actual photos of ME with Ruben, the lead singer of Cafe Tacuba. But I did meet him several times and hang out with him. I have been to his house many times and we even participated in a group therapy session together one afternoon (family constellations - interesting but with an evil, patriarchal perspective). I didn't know he was so bloody famous when I met him and he was actually more interested in my work in Egypt and what I knew about the revolution that I was in his work. Then I found out how bloody famous he is. Incredible.
Still, I never got up the nerve after finding out how famous he was to ask him for a photo of us. So I can't prove that he's one of my homies. However, I did manage to steal this picture of Ruben with his wife and kids picnicking with some of my friends. Is this proof enough of the exalted circles in which I roll?

Queen of Punt

Now I could complain forever about the lack of concensus, but that's probably what makes Egyptology fun :)
Anyway, here is the queen of Punt from the Cairo Museum, originally from Hatshepsut's Temple. As you can see, her back is curved and her body is fat. People go to great lengths to argue what this means. Some people say she has a disease, like elephantiasis. Some people say it is a way to make her look less beautiful than Hatshepsut. Nobody knows. But it is a rarity in Egyptian art for any woman to be depicted like this, therefor it must mean something. Maybe it was just how she looked, sort of. I mean, there's nothing wrong with being fat and lots of cultures find it attractive. So maybe the queen of Punt was just normal or even really cool for her culture?

Parrish Veterans Memorial

OK, about 3 years ago or maybe it was 4 or maybe even 5 - it all runs together for me these days- Daddy's friend George conned him into helping him organize this small "memorial park" kinda place on the corner of the 4-way stop in Parrish. It is dedicated to everybody from Parrish who died in any US war, and also to current veterans. It is just inside the corner of the BP gas station, across from Jack's and Lace Hardware. Every Veteran's Day they have a ceremony and for the past couple of years Daddy has been forced to emcee the thing. He HATES it. But he just can't say no. So here we are this year. You can see Daddy's brick.
Hmmmmm...I wonder if I should get a brick to commemorate my grueling 6 months of supreme sacrifice in the US Air Force?

And even MORE horrible US pottery

I say I blame the patriarchy for this. Maybe it's a simple case of capitalist patriarchy. In any case, American pottery is in a current state of crappiness that should have us all cringing in mortification. Observe it in comparison to (from top to bottom) traditional pottery from China, Japan, Morocco, and Kenya. The last is another stellar example of American tastelessness.
Ok, ok, maybe tastelessness is too harsh a word. But it's how I'm feeling right now.

Again with the crappy American pottery

Perhaps I cherry-pick my examples. However, if you have walked up and down the rows of any art show in the US recently you know I tell the truth. Again, I say - "compare!" From top to bottom I present you with pottery from Poland, Greece, Turkey, Spain, and, the USA. And for this travesty, I do blame the patriarchy.

Jenny-Tree: Or, Should I get a new Mac?

Well I am about to be fed up with myself for not knowing my own freaking password. Actually, it's not my fault. It's the fault of the patriarchy. If I were a dude I would have made more money than I did when I was working and would have been able to buy a new Mac back when this one got hit by lightening. But NO, I'm female so I'm underpaid and undervalued and if I'm competent people will think I'm a bitch and if I'm friendly people will think I'm incompetent. That's the meaning of OPPRESSION, people! When no options are good so you get squozen in. Anyway, so, I had to call some shade-tree techie who met me in a parking lot and replaced my hard drive, resetting the passwords and he apparently misspelled my regular password so I can't upgrade anything anymore. I can't download any new programs. I'm basically trapped, frozen in time. I LOVE this little MiniMac of mine but some days it just gets to me. ARRRGGGHHHHHH!!!!
On the plus side, I have a good friend who will do my photoshopping for me. So I get to be a Christmas Tree for Solstice!

The Emergency Room

So with all the skipping and jumping for joy after the first ride at the fair, I didn't see the power cords on the ground and I tripped over them. I spent the rest of the night in the Emergency Room downtown, where they treat people without insurance. Too many people don't have insurance and it's a huge act of cruelty and down-right mean-ness. But because of all the emergencies, I never got seen last night and I had to go back to a doc-in-a-box today.
I should have had stitches, but it will heal and it'll leave a fantastic scar on my knee. I did get to experience having my pants leg cut away by dudes with flashlights. (At least I think they had flashlights- it's rapidly becoming a blur).
And we first went to a private clinic but they were closed and the staff was leaving. One of the doctors there sat down on the sidewalk with me and examined the gaping hole in my knee by the headlights of Lindsay's rental car and told me that I needed stitches. He was nice about it while not helping me.
For the horrible state of healthcare in this country, I blame the patriarchy.

Angela Davis and Me

So, it sort of looks like I photo-shopped myself in here, but there I am, shoulder to shoulder with the great Angela Davis :)

I'm gettin' worried about Twisty

Well, Twisty over at IBTP hasn't posted in a long time. People are getting worried. What would we do without her?
In the hopes that she's just fine and having too much fun to post, here's a tribute song written by somebody else, and a picture of a salamander that is totally unrelated.

The Corrido of Twisty Faster's Brain

All the people who despise the Presidente
Love the Austin gal they know as Twisty Faster
She's the favorite of the blogging cognoscent-ay
And she bends her knee to neither god nor master.

She's the reigning queen of patriarchy blaming
And her prose is bright and elegantly snarky
She excels at all kick-assing and take-name-ing
And exhorts us all to blame the patriarchy.

(chorus)
Oh the sun it shines like oil upon the mole
And the dogs they beg and whine, they're getting barky
And the sexist trolls are thicker than pozole
Everybody dance, and blame the patriarchy!

When the body politic's especially leprous
That is when our spinster aunt leaps into action
With the portion of her brain that is obstrep'rous
She will blame the patriarchs 'til they're in traction.

But one morning when the bullshit overloaded
Oh, it nearly spelled the end of our dear Twisty
That was when that portion of her brain exploded
And they heard the blast way down in Corpus Christi.

(chorus)

In a tiny room, the benches wrapped in paper
Twisty Faster she awaits her doctor's sentence
While the other spinster aunts outside they caper
And the nations' patriarchs escape repentance.

Till the men stop their reflexive woman-shaming
And the patriarchy gets all non-existy
We will need to keep on patriarchy blaming
Everybody raise a glass to our dear Twisty!

(chorus)
Oh the sun it shines like oil upon the mole
And the dogs they beg and whine, they're getting barky
And the feminists are hotter than pozole
Everybody dance, and blame the patriarchy!

Posted by Chris Clarke at September 14, 2005 11:21 AM TrackBack URL for this entry:
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