And then I get to Klara’s school in my beautiful new light-grey coat, and it turns out some inconsiderate parent decided to celebrate their kid’s birthday by bringing a tray of cupcakes with bright blue frosting for the kids. And of course the moment the kids saw me, they decided to run towards me and give me a hug. (They love me because I’m funny). And I started sprinting away from them to save my coat. And they did not take that well.

You can only imagine how the teachers feel about the prospect of washing 8 bright blue faces and pairs of hands covered with sticky frosting. The whole classroom was trashed. Klara’s pants are destroyed because she somehow managed to sit on a cupcake. 

I have no idea what that bizarre parent was thinking. The teachers will not be grateful for this “treat.” Just think about what a bunch of two-year-olds can do to a room when they are hopped up on sugar and armed with a bunch of blue cupcakes.

And I don’t want to be a fussy sort of person, but those pants Klara is wearing are new and expensive because they are very warm. And now they look horrible.

New York knows I don’t like it and dislikes me back. My flight was cancelled, and I have no idea if I’ll get there at all. 

In case I do get there in the midst of a snowstorm, I went and bought myself a hat. My head is enormous and nothing fits. The only hat somewhat generous enough to accommodate my huge head (if I get rid of the hair) looks hideous. And makes me feel like I have a furry animal clutching my scalp. 

I also tried to buy thick tights but the store assistant told me the pair I picked wasn’t in stock at their store and they have no idea how it got there. Drama was about to ensue with people investigating the provenance of a pair of opaque (literally and metaphorically) tights, so I just left. 

The MLA is sending out reminders to bring winter boots because it is likely to snow in winter in New York. I’d wonder at this weird infantilization of academics if I hadn’t seen how eagerly people self-infantilize at conferences. It’s like a conference is the time for the inner child to come out.

Motivating yourself with guilt (which is what this article suggests, albeit in a slightly veiled way) is just as unhealthy as motivating yourself with masochistic efforts of “willpower.” What’s really sad is that the author is a professor of psychology who is so utterly clueless that he is unaware of the harm his advice will cause to the people who were manipulated with guilt in childhood and told they are ungrateful little bastards, etc. And I’m guessing that is quite a few people.

In reality, the only way of leaving aside harmful habits and picking up healthy ones is to find the reason why one actively tries to self-destroy and self-sabotage. It’s all about undoing the original hurt, not exacerbating it. 

I’ve just got an unexpected New Year’s surprise. An edited volume I’d long given up on is actually about to come out. I received a publisher’s agreement an hour ago. It’s been an unlucky volume that hasn’t been able to find a stable publisher since 2015. In the process, of course, it changed a lot. 

I’m glad to start the year with an entirely unexpected publication.

I’m starting 2018 with a trip to NYC. I’m leaving on Wednesday and will come back on Monday. In NYC I will:

1. Speak at a conference
2. Visit the book fair where my book is sold
3. Have lunch with a friend from Ukraine I haven’t seen for exactly 20 years
4. See a Broadway show with my sister
5. Visit ABC Kitchens and enjoy their fresh seafood
6. Meet up with a friend who’s been coming to this conference for years to interview for jobs and now will finally come as a TT professor who already has a job
7. Go to an exhibition of Ukrainian art
8. Visit MOMA (which is the only place in NYC I invariably like)
9. Go to a place called “Corn on the Cob” because my sister swears by it

If somebody knows of any other NYC pastimes I will enjoy, please give suggestions. My Sunday afternoon and evening will be wide open.

Turns out there are bald eagles in this area. And I thought these creatures I was seeing were vultures. 

In the closing weeks of 2017, I conducted a mental experiment. I imagined I was working for a less obscure college somewhere on the coasts. And the result was that I couldn’t write anything at all on the blog. I’m sure everybody here noticed. There’s nothing I want to say that can survive the censorship that exists in those places. 

If I hadn’t come to work here, in the deep Midwest, 9 years ago, I would have thought that this kind of area is where fanaticism and intolerance live. But now I know different.