HOME





›comments[0]
›all comments

›post #599
›bio: jen
›perma-link
›4/15/2014
›20:22

›archives
›first post
›that week



Previous Posts
› The Pink Plastic Prison and the Extraordinary Woman
› Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny! Destiny! Destiny!
› Extra Fancy Jumbo Cashews
› Get Yourself Free
› Oh Mandy
› When the Lights Go Out



Around the World and Back Again

Category List
› 10 Year Anniversary
› Around the World and Back Again
› Bar Napkin Poetry
› Beyond the Dune Sea
› Cineaste
› Ireland Stuff
› Offices
› Sunshine Jen News Corp (SJNC)
› Sunshine Jen Writing Staff
› What's In LA



sunshine jen: The Same Day Backward and Forward

First of all, I apologize profusely for the lack of Sunshine Jenniness lately. I started a new job which is kicking my ass and eating up my time. It's a job monster, but I like the people I work with. My co-workers appreciate my random observations. At least they seem to appreciate my random observations, and that's good enough for me most days.

One of my highly intelligent co-workers recently observed that from April 11th through April 19th, it's the same day backward and forward when you write the date numerically. Today, April 15 is 4/15/14. The numbers: 41514 can go both backward and forward.

However, this does not work for folks in other parts of the world where the day is written before the month: 15/4/14. It would have worked on the 4th of January (4/1/14). I wonder why we put the month first in America. I could probably google that and find out.

My other question is: to what extent is every day the same day backward and forward. I begin my day asleep. I end my day asleep. I do some stuff in between. Sure that stuff has some variation, but it's still just stuff I do between sleeps.

On another topic, I'm currently reading Siri Hustvedt's new novel, The Blazing World. In it, a woman artist builds little model rooms. The little model rooms sounded familiar, and then I remembered reading about the artist in Claire Messud's The Woman Upstairs. The main character was also building little model rooms.

Isn't it interesting that two very good women novelists have written a female artist character who builds little rooms? Yes, it's an obvious visual metaphor for women boxing themselves in and making their lives tiny. Still, is it time to finally stop building little boxes and to paint huge swirling canvases filled with color? Women artists have been doing that for decades. Heck, I don't just want a room of one's own. Sorry Virginia, I need more space. 

By the way, I highly recommend the Messud novel because the ending is a real kicker. Hustvedt is playing some post-modern games, but the meat of it is enchanting. I can not offer anything more indepth because I am currently reading the novel. Okay, I'm not reading it right now this minute. I'm writing this piece.

And my days continue to backwards and forwards and around and around and the earth keeps spinning on and on and on.





«« (back) (forward) »»
dodgers down below the upgrade








© happyrobot.net 1998-2025
powered by robots :]