My current incarnation takes the form of a mildly discontented Ph.D , or as I tell my mother –‘I am employed as a de-intellectualized academic’- as if there is any other kind. More personally, I am an undiplomatic Diplomat’s daughter. Stationed in exotic locales, most of my development took place in an armored car. Now as an adult, I am a divorcée, prude/slut whose most important role is to be Mother to a charming little dog whose breed shall remain anonymous. A self-professed alcoholic-teetotaler-moderate drinker, my inner circle characterizes me as a post-structural protocol Nazi; an adorable Jewish American Princess.
Physically, I am stunning in a vulgar way. My authentic tattoos include a full-body depiction of the dustbowl during the 1930s, a symbol of protest against ecological destruction. Then, of course there is the obligatory face of Trotsky on my décolletage, further evidence of my deep alliance with the working man in spite of the fact that most of my rebellious activity is encapsulated in formatting bibliographies. My daily engagement with body art is a massive obsession with eye shadow. I try to emulate Diamanda Galas whenever asked to pot-lucks. I never dress my age.
I love eating and travel, just like anyone with even miniscule sense. I fancy myself a gourmand and have eaten outlandish things whether staying in 5 star resorts or camping in the dirt with indigenous peoples of the rainforest. To environmentalists everywhere: yes, I have gorged myself on endangered species. My only advice on the subject is that if the animal is especially hairy, increase the sauce to meat ratio.
who says academics don’t know squat? or is that squab? give us some recipes, girl! and keep on blogging til the cows come home.
Comment by Rockin' Rob — February 27, 2010 @ 4:22 am