I wrote a review for Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides on the Amazon.com website. I'm a giant nerd, and I have to be analyzing something at all times. Anyway, here it is:

This was a very interesting book. On a purely personal note, it was fun to read a book set in my hometown. The dose of Detroit history that goes along with the story of the Stephanides family makes this a fun read for anybody that knows how to pronounce "Gratiot" and remembers the reign of Coleman Young as Detroit mayor. Also, the connotations of the words Grosse Pointe are far reaching for those of us from the lesser Detroit "burbs." I'm not old enough to remember the race riots, but my old Italian relatives from Oakwood remember them well. It sparked some interesting dinner conversation with them over Christmas.

The story of Calliope/Cal is illuminating on several levels. Puberty is distressing enough for girls, but to never develop the way you're "supposed" to develop is a central theme for Cal, who is intersexed. (I will use Cal's chosen pronoun and call him "he.") I admire the character because he is so self-possessed and pragmatic through the whole ordeal. It may seem, at first that the voice of the author is overshadowing Cal's voice; however, as Cal moves into adolescence, the tone becomes wholly unto the character. I think Jeffrey Eugenides handled Cal's struggle with great sensitivity. More books should handle this topic as he has. More books should be written about the intersexed, period. These people are not curiosities. They are human, and struggle with their identity in a way that is so magnified, many of us will never understand.

I thought the way that Eugenides detailed Cal's visit to the gender disorders clinic in New York presented many sickening possibilities. Many accounts of gender assignment of the intersexed infant have come to light recently, and it is clear that physicians do not always know the proper course of treatment for these individuals. There is such pressure to assign an identity for the parents' sake, that the child gets somewhat lost in the assessment. Dr. Luce's delight at Cal's condition, and the possibility to advance his own career is something to be wary of. This is a consistently emphasized point in Middlesex. Cal is objectified by this physician. He then objectifies himself, and eventually comes uneasily to terms with his body.

I enjoyed this book because it allowed me to examine many of the taboos that know no cultural barriers, such as incest and the idea of what is and is not normal. 3:45 PM

"What Do Women Want?"
Kim Addonizio

I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I'm the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,
it'll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.

From Tell Me by Kim Addonizio. Copyright © 2000 by Kim Addonizio. Reprinted by permission of BOA Editions, Ltd. All rights reserved.

I am having a blast with The Academy of American Poets. I thought this one was funny, and I think the author was probably one brazen lady. If there's one thing I approve of, it's loud women. 9:14 PM

I am feeling so sorry for myself right now, I'm about to buy myself a present from the Body Shop.com. I have to stop myself, though, because Ryan and I don't have any money to buy body butter for my little feet.

I'm memorizing drugs all day today. Yay me.

What is this friendster thing, anyway? I've been hearing all about it from people lately. Sorry. I'm behind in the times. I'm always a step behind in the new "cool" internet things. Humph.

I'm grumpy. 1:13 PM

I like this poem. We should all broaden our horizons a little bit, blog audience of 5 people. You're all lucky I didn't put in some Sylvia Plath or Emily Dickinson because their poems are all about death. In my pissed off state, death would be an appropriate topic. Instead, you get something that mentions death, but is mostly about love. At least, that's how it sounds to me.

Somewhere I have Never Traveled, Gladly Beyond
by E.E. Cummings

somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands


From Complete Poems: 1904-1962 by E. E. Cummings, edited by George J. Firmage. Used with the permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation. Copyright © 1923, 1931, 1935, 1940, 1951, 1959, 1963, 1968, 1991 by the Trustees for the E. E. Cummings Trust. Copyright © 1976, 1978, 1979 by George James Firmage.

12:18 PM

I have a ton of homework to do. I have an exam on Friday over 8 extremely dense weeks of material. This includes cardiac physiology, which has more to do with physics than I care to remember from college. There are even integrals in the equations. Integrals, if you please! I'm going to be tested on everything to do with blood. This means more physics, chemistry, and a hefty dose of pathology. Finally, the remaining couse work is devoted to the autonomic nervous system. We hit this pretty hard during gross anatomy, but I have discovered a new piece of information. The autonomic nervous system does whatever the hell it wants to do. This means it does different things in different tissues, different things in the same tissue, and can be overwhelmed by the reflexes the body deems appropriate for the situation. Then, I have to memorize all kinds of drugs that do whatever they can to influence the autonomic nervous system doing whatever it wants. It sucks, and I've never gotten this far behind in school. My test is the 19th, and then I will curl up and die. I'm sitting here alone in my apartment mourning my eventual demise.

I should cheer up, though. As soon as this test is over, I get to do all kinds of fun things. Christmas is coming, and I will get presents and eat lots of good food. I'll get to see my family. I'm sure they're wondering if I have fallen off the planet by now. My sister will be in town from Virginia. My birthday is Sunday. I'm turing 26. More presents, and maybe some cake. I'll have time to visit with Courtney, go to the DIA with Dave and Diane, and have a whole 14 days of normal life. I can't wait.

Well, back to work.

12:45 PM

Check it out:

The Twelve STIs of Christmas

Happy Holidays! 9:00 PM