career week

So it is career week. Last night I went to a food and drink fest hosted by a fancy consulting company to sell themselves to LGB people. I leave out the T because there is no mention of it on their literature. I considered mentioning it to them but as I was drinking on their tab I thought it might be inappropriate. I'll be sure to bring it up on Thursday when I visit their booth at the career fair. "What about the transgendered? don't you care about them?" That sad part is that most LGB organisations don't. The trans community still complicates things for people who can't wrap their mind around the endless possibilites of gender identitfication. Who cares how you view yourself as long as you aren't hurting anyone? Why can't people just accept?
Well being the bitter muther fucker that I am, I know why. Because thinking that way is complicated and people don't like to think complicated thoughts because it is hard. There are things in life that are hard and we spend an inordinate amount of time avoiding them.
Case in point. I am taking a class with Sherry Turkle, a rather famous person who has written quite a bit about personalities and technologies. You should google her. Anyway, she is also a trained (and formerly practicing) psychoanalyst. The last two classes have consisted of us writing and reading out loud stories about our childhood. the toys we played with and the spaces we interacted with that most affected who we are today. Needless to say I hated every moment of it. I don't like thinking about my childhood. Not that it was terrible, I wasn't beat or abused. but my childhood consisted of distant parents and constant moving as most military children can probably attest to. I did happen to have traumatic things happen around me which I have supressed. There is something about having a person shot on the far side of the wall surrounding your house that can lead one to certain anxieties. I'm sure we were better off having them not enter our house but still its pretty fucked up.
Then there is the moment when we were having a picnic at the beach and people started shooting. A woman standing next to me was shot in the side and turned to look at me as she fell to the ground. She was a co-worker of my mothers who decided on a whim to come with us. Shitty move on her part I must say.
But then the class is about memoir. How it is written and how technology plays a part in that story. Since technology is a huge part of my life it seems that the class might actually come to some good. we'll see.
Back to career week. I am tired of being poor. It is all well and good being a starving artist when one has a trust fund however when one has looming student loans it is not quite so romantic. is it wrong of me to want to get a job that pays a hundred grand to start?
I feel like I am selling out.

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