10 February 2004 - 12:01 p.m.

Hm. Updates are becoming sparse. Let me assure everyone that I have not lost interest in Diaryland. I have simply lost interest in myself.

Do you know that I'm supposed to be able to decide what kind of theorist I am by like, yesterday? I didn't even know I was supposed to care! Prof. McHotHot said it was okay to write from my gut, as long as I had an answer for the nosy folks who ask.

I can't really lie, either, because theoretically I should know about what I'm an expert in. Shit.

The problem with having to define yourself is that, when you're forced into it, you're not so much interested in describing how you really are, but how cool you are. Like, I can't be a Marxist because that's played out, and people are not shy about telling you that shit's played out. Which is the only reason I use the phrase "played out," which I incidentally fucking hate.

I used to think I was a feminist film theorist. But they hate everything. Including film. And women.

I just want to write my own theory. And then be a Jennist. And then be like Marx and announce that I'm not a Jennist. And then live on wine and cheese and die in France.

Cool. It's settled. What's next?

What I'm wearing: Green sweater, grown-up pants.

What I'm reading: A Cycle of Outrage: America's Reaction to the Juvenile Delinquent of the 1950s

What I'm doing after this: eating leftovers.