Happy Birthday, Sigmund

My parents both studied Psychology as undergraduates in the 1970s. When my mother told her father she was majoring in Psychology, he asked, “What are you going to do? Sell Psychology?” That anecdote has nothing to do with my point, but makes me smile. My point is that my parents both studied Psychology as undergraduates in the 1970s when Freudian analysis was the “it” mode of psychotherapy.

Flash-forward thirty-something years later when, at age sixteen, I was perusing the bookshelves in our basement and found their combined collection of $2 paperbacks of Freud’s works. I felt like Ariel in The Little Mermaid: “Look at this trove! Treasures untold!”

The timing was somewhat fortuitous because suddenly, Freud was everywhere. I was about to study Oedipus Rex in English class. When reading Federico García Lorca’s La Casa de Bernarda Alba in AP Spanish Literature, I struggled to adequately translate my thoughts, but was ultimately able to smugly announce that la caña de Bernarda es un símbolo fálico. One day in History, my teacher told one of the popular boys to stop playing with his lacrosse stick; I loudly offered, “Well, you know what Freud would say.”

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Kate Curates the Internet: April 30, 2017

Things That Are Annoying

Oh good. Another “think piece” about millennials by a millennial who wants to draw a distinction between Old Millennials and Young Millennials because “Old Millennials, as I’ll call them, who were born around 1988 or earlier (meaning they’re 29 and older today), really have lived substantively different lives than Young Millennials, who were born around 1989 or later.” Thanks for the math lesson, Jesse Singal. If it makes you feel better, you are a special subset of Old Millennial: Whiny Mansplaining Old Millennial.

In other millennial-specific news, according to the Times, we’re also apparently answering “the call of Mexican wine country.” Not mentioned in the article: it’s probably because of that Fountains of Wayne songContinue reading

Romantic Résumé

Objective

Vaguely insecure but charmingly self-deprecating artsy-type seeks creatively-inclined adult male (human), preferably steadily employed, in the New York City area for something in between a one-night-stand/friends-with-benefits situation and a full-blown, instant relationship. (This is possibly called “dating,” a retro trend that apparently died out around 2008.) Alcoholics, narcissists, misogynists, mansplainers, doctors, codependents, neo-Nazis, or any combination of the aforementioned need not apply.

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