PRIDE

Starving in Paris

The New York Times' Frugal Traveler went to Paris earlier this month.

I enjoyed reading what he had to say about traveling around the luxurious city on a budget. Living there last year as a poor college student the experiences he recounted were hauntingly similar to the things I remember doing to save money while I was there.

One theme he brings up throughout his piece is the romantic idea of the starving artist. He evokes Ernest Hemingway's "A Moveable Feast" several times. This romantic idea is one of my favorite fantasies. And I believe that of all of the cities I have visited in the last several years, Paris is the one where that idea does not seem fantastic. Even in New York, I often feel like the romance of being creative and poor is lost on the constant shifting and gentrifying of neighborhoods.

Paris has experienced shifts too but even the neighborhoods that once were artist havens and are no more have held on to the the essence of the poor artists that once roamed the streets.

Oh to be poor and living in Paris! Maybe someday soon...

Masters of Sex

Very interesting article and I am assuming a very interesting book about two people who dedicated their lives to researching sex.

Home

I have spent the last several weeks at home in rural Nebraska. And while I may have said this before, I think it's worth repeating. The more time I spend living elsewhere, the more I appreciate the life that Nebraska offers. There are so many small things that I miss when I'm away that I would have never expected to miss.

I miss the way the air feels against my skin and smells so sweet and fresh after a thunderstorm. I miss the way I can hear the cars roaring along Interstate 80 from my backyard even though I'm nearly 2 miles away. I miss the country music on every radio station, even though I absolutely hate most country songs. I miss the long open highway that my mom and I drive along to get to the Harlan County Reservoir. I miss the local camaraderie that exists in hometown bars. I miss the way people try to look out for each other even when they don't succeed. I miss the way it feels to sit in an old beat-up diesel pickup truck with my hand out the window, wind blowing swiftly through my fingers, next to someone who just likes to put his arm around me.

But I think what I really miss is the innocence I had before I knew that this life wasn't for me, when I could accept all of these things as all there was to the world. It's been a long time since I felt that way, but I can't help wishing to go back to it sometimes. It was a simple life, with straightforward problems and solutions, or at least it seemed that way.

If only I didn't have to be so complicated.

Does Money Matter in Dating?

I just read an article published by the AP about dating during the recession and the dating problems that men are dealing with after being laid off.

I was a little bit surprised by the article because (and this probably has to do with the fact that I'm in college and almost no one has money in college.) I never thought money could be such an issue.

Shouldn't dating be more about the personal connection and less about the bill? Who needs to spend money to have a good time?

I mean maybe my opinion will change, I am going to be out in the job world in a year and at that point it is very possible that I will prefer dates that have financial security but right now, who needs money?

One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman

Photo of Simone de Beauvoir taken by Nelson Algren

The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir is a book I consider to be quite lifechanging for me. It asserts, well before feminism had taken hold, that women are not subordinates of men. It defines "sex" and "gender" as separate individual characteristics.

I was first exposed to this book during my time studying in Paris. The influence this book has had on me could possibly be attributed to the fact that the time I spent living in Paris was itself a lifechanging experience. (To be living alone in a foreign city brings about personal characteristics one may never know one had.) And certainly, reading The Second Sex in Paris is much different than reading it in New York or San Francisco. You can almost feel Simone de Beauvoir's presence while sitting in a cafe on Rue St. Germain. But I think that the power of this book exists no matter when or where it is read.

I truly admire the strength and tenacity that de Beauvoir must have had to be able to publish such a book in 1949, long before any of the content was commonly discussed.

There are several reasons why I bring this book up today. One is that a very close friend of mine just recently purchased the book and began reading it. She made a point to tell me about her purchase because I had brought the book up so many times in conversation that she just finally had to know what it was really all about.

The second reason I bring it up is because This year marks 60 years since the book was published and a new and IMPROVED English translation is scheduled to come out in November. I'm starting to get anxious about reading it.

And thirdly, de Beauvoir makes many claims about the equality of men and women. Recently, I listened to a radio segment that featured a discussion with scientists about how similar men and women really are. It is exciting for me to see that what de Beauvoir claimed so many years ago is becoming a reality today.

Check out the radio piece:

Graduation

My sister graduated from high school this weekend. I made sure I was home for the ceremony and, of course, the large party at the family home afterwards. My little sister is just about 3 years younger than me, and I don't think I've been to a graduation ceremony in those years between mine and hers.

I realized this as I walked into my old high school gym, which was set up just the way it had been 3 years earlier. The stage was on the north wall, with seats for the graduates directly below.

It surprised me how different it felt to be in that gym this time around. Last time, I was sad to see my life changing, knowing that many of those sitting next to me would leave my life for good. I also felt excited for the life ahead of me and for all the new and unknown adventures in my future.

I was naive. I didn't know what would come. I didn't know the things I would see, experience, or feel. The pain, the pleasure, anything. But I wouldn't have traded that feeling of excitement and happiness for all of the knowledge in the world.

I see those same feelings on my sister's face now and it makes me happy. It makes me reminisce about the past, when things were a little bit more simple.

I wouldn't want my sister to feel any other way.