Clarissa's Blog

The Starbucks lady spelled my name as “Olda.” I’m either very nasal today or I look exceptionally ancient. 

Kenan Malik explains beautifully how identity politics flourishes in the empty space left by the death of class consciousness. 

The damage done by the absence of even the most rudimentary forms of class consciousness is enormous. People on minimum wage sincerely believe that billionaires will defend their interests. There isn’t even a glimmer of understanding of how class interests work and how class antagonisms – which don’t disappear because you refuse to notice them – shape our lives. 

In keeping with the Russian theme of this election, the genre of letters to the Good Tsar has already begun to appear. People are making asses out of themselves, trying to tell Trump that he is being fooled by mean advisers and are “explaining” things to him. 

And in keeping with the entitled immaturity theme, a bunch of cabaret dancers moans at an incredible length about how humiliating it is to perform at the presidential inauguration. As if anything can be more humiliating than being in a profession where you always have to exhibit your panties. 

In a way, I’m almost glad that Trump won because his victory helped demonstrate how many idiots and special snowflakes there are. Trump hasn’t even been inaugurated yet, he hasn’t had a chance to do anything, and people are acting like he roasted and ate all of their family members.  

Can anybody imagine a worse name for peanut butter, given that it already looks like it’s been eaten before?

Babies are so different. My niece Klubnikis is not in the least cuddly. Even as an infant she knew how to make it very clear that she didn’t want to be kissed and hugged. But her little brother loves to snuggle and adores being kissed. 

Klara is very cuddly, too. And that’s really great. 

Whenever I as much as touch or look with more than a passing interest at another baby, Klara screams and wails. But when I grab her little cousin and kiss him and twirl him around, she totally loves that. She’s not jealous of him at all. 

It’s such a joy to observe these two babies together. They are almost the same age and are already fast friends. 

I find the whole ridiculous noise surrounding Ivanka Trump’s assumption of the First Lady duties to be shameful and pathetic. The whole institution of First Ladyism is idiotic and outdated. And to force a woman into doing this unpaid work just because she happens to be married to a certain man is deranged. Why not let a daughter, a sister, a cousin, etc do it instead if she wants to? Or a son, a brother, a grandpa, if it comes to it and if people can’t let go of this institution altogether. 

And yes, of course, I’m against intertwining family business and the presidency. That’s not what I’m talking about in this post. This post is about the unhinged whining about how “she shouldn’t be doing this work if she’s not a wife. What is she sleeping with him?” This is beyond pathetic. You are not entitled to the free work of anybody’s wife if she doesn’t feel like providing it. 

When Canada’s Justin Trudeau welcomed Syrian refugees with great pomp and the clear subtext of “Look how morally superior we are to Americans,”  he didn’t publicize his intention to farm out the costs of this major photo-op to private individuals. Only a few of the refugees were to receive sufficient governmental aid. The rest were to be sponsored by private citizens who’d pledge $1,000 a month to support a refugee family. 

Refugees were greeted with such enthusiasm and fanfare that they couldn’t help imagining a very different life than what actually awaited them in Canada. The eager sponsors of the first few months would go on TV and experience momentary stardom as they pledged their life savings to help the newcomers. But once the novelty wore off, they realized that  $1,000 a month was quite a lot of money, especially with Canadian dollar in free fall and Trudeau’s rich-boy economic measures squeezing workers quite badly. 

Sponsors started disappearing and leaving the refugee families stranded. One can’t blame them because private charity can never address complex social issues. Only a government can do that. Shifting governmental duties onto the shoulders of private individuals is not a good idea. 

Sociability is difficult not because it’s hard to socialize but because I never know if my sociability switch will turn on at any given time. When I approach people or people approach me, there are two possible scenarios:

1. Sociability switch flips, and I become the most charming, gregarious, exciting person ever.
2. Sociability switch decides to remain inactive and I feel intolerable boredom. I can try to conceal it but the boredom is overwhelming. 

The bad part is that I can’t predict when each scenario will unfold. I don’t suffer from not knowing how to engage with people or how to make small talk. I’m actually great at it because I don’t understand the concept of worrying what people think about me. What I do suffer from is frequent and uncontrollable attacks of not wanting to engage. 

It feels very weird when in the middle of a conversation I lose all interest and become extremely bored but not because of anything the other person said or did.

It’s equally disturbing when I open my mouth and all of a sudden this very charming, talkative persona appears. 

Finally I managed to take a selfie that realistically shows that I have a round face. Normally they come out very long-faced, in all senses of the word.