Long time no write. Long time no paycheck. My response to the latter was taking two days off last week in order to do other (paid) work in order to keep all my balances in check, and by in check, I mean more than afloat, because I made some rule for myself that Balance A can’t dip below a certain number of dollars, and Balance B can’t dip below a certain number of dollars and Balance C can’t ever be touched. So Balance B was looking low and that’s the balance that job’s funds get tossed into. I told them I needed all 3 pay cycles they owed and that it was urgent. My boss told me she would pay me by the end of the week. She had not paid me by Wednesday, so I made the choice to take those two days off. So the next entry might start with: I got fired. Or They asked me to leave and offered me two weeks to do so. Or Captain Yale won. Or Whatever. Balance B is back on track and I made two weeks worth of pay in two days. Thank whomever for my other jobs. But here’s the real story: I’m sure my boss at the job that doesn’t pay is pissed / jealous because I was working a job that =ed another person’s / a friend of her’s work being shown at _, where she has not had her work shown / would like her work shown. While watching her texts fill my phone screen all I could think is get over it, be happy for someone else for once. When this boss found out who their competition was on a job, the first thing she talked about when she got back from the presentation was how _ was their competition and–I think I’ve written about this already. All she had to say was that _’s been taking jobs from them and all I could do was roll my eyes behind her back because her thinking that was incredibly egotistical. I felt odd thinking Focus on your own work at her because Focus on your own work is something I’m sure other people have told me in the past. In all of this, I am pleased to report that I am standing up for myself, that I have been working on my own issues with jealousy and always feeling less than, forcing myself to catch sleep, etc., etc., etc.

A bit of a detour. I got a 1-inch papercut on my hand that got inflamed because of a pulp or wood allergy, which was likely inflamed due to exposure from paper or wood, which was then covered by two band-aids and a wrap of blue painters tape because that’s what was around the office. Hours later I was in front of someone I pursued (heavily) years ago. I think he’s the only person who will contradict me, who I’ll let get away with it. Which is its own particular form of love. Which is something: I go to the 9 to 5 because, despite the graphic designer / 36yo I love the work and I love the possibilities of and for the work. I love being able to tell them we’re doing this, and it’s due right now and it’s making me frantic you can’t get it done in the next 3 minutes. Emphasis on possibilities. Emphasis on Love. | Some girl in the East Village blocks past the ON AIR izakaya with Love Will Tear Us Apart sweats on. Love will Tear Us Apart in a tacky font running down her leg. Asian. Pants paired with a cargo jacket. No circle elevator¹ for us bc the building was closed. But there were the two and there’s always love. | Architectures in Love¹ . Architectures of Ambivalence. | I fell in love with him years before we met. | I fell in love with him across the street from the building either of us would call home for 5 years. | I fell in love with him in a Duchampian moment: in front of a fountain, but not that kind of fountain. | The blue of his bag and the blue of the dots on his shirt. The black of his umbrella as it passed the fence out my bedroom window. | I doubt he’s able to recall in the same way. | I miss him tremendously and he’s asking me to love him by _ him _. By letting him _. | Mostly I think men want to be the one making the choice in the matter. If he had been the one who had years befored, we wouldn’t be where we are now. | Tonight he carried the same yellow he wore the day I knew. | When I die you’ll play Y_’s Mass at my funeral and the funeral won’t be very long and no one will speak. | I want to be around people who know how to do one thing: Listen.

I am listening to Chopin’s Funeral March¹ with the 9 to 5-6-8-12 on the pink. About the place I work. About the work—you get it. I also have this image² at the top of my brain while thinking about the 9 to—you get it. But you may not get what the image has to do with anything because I can’t really detail what it has to do with anything. But it has something to do with the Qs re The Idiom from the last post. If they dealt with The Idiom in a low way, I’d be fine, but it’s in the high-historical manner (think AR, LH, AL³, E T C.), and that’s all good and fine if you can hold a candle to the blanking references. | When reference is not context, referential asides, reference as duck blind, Venturi’s duck, $5 duck fat rolls at Farmers 45 minutes north, is the DUCK still a DUCK without the road, Blake’s Duckling, That’s Quackers!, next birthday I’ll drive out to Flanders, KF dropped here⁴, Plum Island— | The low as a means for criticism. | I sent an edit for a ~graphic design project I am on and really prefer it to the first set sent.| Somehow everything about his writing failed when he started asserting dominance on someone else’s behalf. | Concise isn’t always so nice. | I put my headphones on at work and spent the day in extreme focus. Great not being bugged by Team Machismo. I’ve decided I won’t talk unless I am spoken to. I took myself off all the group chats on which my input is ignored. Viva forced ambivalence!

Of course (read OF COURSE!) I was the one who was reprimanded for Friday’s hullabaloo. Yesterday: My boss gave me a talking to about the course of action I should take. He suggested writing a nice email complementing what I believe the 36 yo’s strengths are (have to stop here and admit I don’t actually know his age) and discussing how we move forward. In 9 to 5 land, he was basically asking me to perpetuate all the passive aggressive nonsense that just works for the office. He told me to apologize for my outburst. Today: I didn’t actually write the email I said I wrote (in my head) in a previous post. Instead, I spent 8 minutes composing a sortof great email that really got to the point (certainly more articulate than this rundown): the shittiness of our aggressions is equal, whether or not you’re aware of it you’re condescending but I’m sure you’re smart enough to engage in self-reflection every so often, I acknowledge what our employer promised you would hear as a response but am not obliging because that would be dehumanizing (to me) and I’m pushing for a reality where favoritism doesn’t need to exist because work stands for itself, I’m not writing what our employer promised I would write before he asked for my side of the story but I will work on my anger toward your attitude and will tell you when you’re being condescending directly and will not use the F-word when expressing the shittiness of your attitude. So: a) strengths were not acknowledged and I did not apologize, b) I proposed how I will move forward and took responsibility for my aggressiveness. My employer ignored me for the rest of the day (saw that coming) and rubbed it in my face by showering everyone in praise for their work and the 36yo accused me of having a server file open on my computer. Sortof sick but I was at my desk laughing behind all my (occasionally forced) emotionlessness: The fuck is this, grade school, but we’re ##, 36 and in our late 50s, the fuck. I feel fortunate that I know how to deal with people ignorning me and that, at the very least, aggressiveness makes a point of problems. Enter the wave of Discipline and Punish. In the style of the last document that rolled out of the office (the 36yo ignored my edits and they sent out a flawed final), that is Discipline and Punish followed by a footnote about Foucault ending with an aside about his baldness. Sortof tough shit fr them when a girl stands up for themselves. | While working on the _, I read a bit of BC¹, the one she ends with a bit of Barthes: All criticism must include in its discourse an implicit reflection on itself; every criticism is a criticism of the work and a criticism of itself. In other words, criticism is not at all a table of judgments, it is essentially an activity…. Can an activity be “true”? It answers quite different requirements. I remember reading that at 17, feeling really empowered and thought all the work I’m supporting would really benefit from (self-)criticism. (As in, In what way has this historical idiom we keep presenting in our work failed our work? What is new in our re-representation of this image? Is this idiom really appropriate to the program at hand or are we making excuses to do the same stuffffff over and over again?) | I never hear the word “space” used in the office. Which means I never hear the words “quality of space”. | I think they’re going for a Johnson Wax Building columned type of space for the [Project Name] offices but they’re using _ t_s in place of columns and no one’s questioning the distance of the columns (or minding the budget that will allow them to really think through the distance of the columns in the near future) or the quality of the light from the t_s and this gets on my nerves because workers get better work done in front of windows and light, sometimes directly on, their faces skin and causing screen glare and I don’t like SANAA all that much but I like their whole You’re just gonna have to deal with the glory of the fucking sun kindof attitude. | I feel like I’m not pissed off enough about 9 to 5-6-9-12 shit / I’m not really pissed off at all / I will continue to leave at 6otd until my employer decides to issue April’s 4th week payment / I got home before the windows of the apartment were blue-black.

I’m not too pissed off about what happened on Friday. I left the office thinking This is r_, shit straight out of a time when it was fine to use the word r_ as an adjective without getting That’s not PCd. R_ is the best word for (emphasis here) the situation. Going up to the h_ again today. I need to remember to call my mother before then. Maybe email _’s mother as well. I doubt the latter does any good. I doubt both do any good: I doubt my mother trusts me. No, I’ll send the email anyway even though I doubt it does any good and I know my mother sees the word Disappointment when she thinks to me. She faults me for the situation with _—she won’t ever tell me this to my face and I’m fine with her thinking that it was all my fault. | She told me about her friend and his having been diagnosed as bipolar late in life, that things started to make sense after lithium. That he figured out a way to be happy. | _ sent me images from her last trip and I think she should become an architectural photographer. Go to school for photography. Keep at the weekend trips to find any and all buildings by—buildings she likes and just go for it. I felt guilty during our last chat. She once told me she decided not to go to a_ school because I did. I doubt she said this to get to me, but it did. When my mind functions in comparison, she deserved the opportunity more than I did, she would’ve made more of the education. When I am a little more reasonable and fair to myself, I belonged there and it was the best place for me. I sort of laugh when I hear the phrase X found themselves / It took a while but they figured out what they needed to do with their lives, what they wanted to do with their lives, what made them happy. I’ve never really thought about things in terms of happiness, especially the sort of happiness that’s deeply personal. I wish I knew what that felt like and I’m thankful I have a friend who asks after it, or knows how to ask after it without using the word. | I can’t imagine he has much to say. I can’t imagine he is fine with how he is treating _. I haven’t been taking _’s advice, ignoring him back. I’m scared of it all. I’m scared of how it’s so easy to abuse Time. | I made an outline for the conversation on Monday. It can be summed up in this way: I need you to help me help you.

Don’t fucking condescend me. That’s what I said to the graphic designer when he pulled tone on the conversation with the _s after having asked me to fetch some i_ to send the _s (Do you understand what you need to do?). He got up, threw something at his desk and yelled “Fuck” across the office at me. After he said this, I told him to do it himself, that I’ve done all the work. I wrote an email to our employers about the incident and left for the day. I’ve done all the work he’ll take credit for, I’ve done all the work for his project, I’ve troubleshot the project to smithereens and none of the info gets relayed. Don’t fucking condescend me. I’ve never had to say that to anyone. I think I was allowed. I think everyone’s allowed to say shit like that if that’s what’s going on. Abuse of power comes as no surprise.¹ It started raining as I walked toward the train station. The sort of rain that signals summer. I’m tired of passive aggressive bullshit. I’m tired of machismo. I’m tired of people at work getting their worked cheapened in its representation. Representation for which he is responsible. I’m sick of what his taste does to the work. I spent 4 years of my life eliminating taste from my productive work (for other people; the productive work being for other people and not eliminating taste for other people is what I mean). I don’t care what shit looks like anymore. I care what it all thinks like. | I called the idea Bullshit, pretentious and egotistical. Architecture is about producing, navigating, constructing relationships. Mounting a s_ G_ d_g does exactly the opposite. Mounting a s_ G_ d_ is curating and curating isn’t architecture. I said Two d_ are fine, but one is just lazy, decadent, a waste of resources. | Boundaries. Clear boundaries. I told myself it was fine to submit to the c_ because they didn’t put my name on the C_ list and because I’m not d_ for them. I doubt I have any real chance at w_, but there’s always a chance. | Words about open-endedness that they want to eliminate. Words addressed to another about open-endedness, the only real control for a reader, that they want to eliminate. Context with a capital C, context confused with reference depresses me with a capital D. I had a teacher who believed that the result of great work is never open-ended because great work is always specific (to a someone, to a place, to a desire, to a time, to a | Open-endedness is something people push when they can’t come up with the right words for something, when they can’t come up with the right means. | While s_g the overhanging _ at the h_ I go to less frequently than I did last year, the carpenter’s words flocked the pink: Well that looks tedious. The words looked strange coming out of his mouth. | I may have given up on architecture that requires a license but there isn’t a project I’ve touched where I’m not thinking in terms of architecture, like an architect, whatever. | I’ll likely be the one who is reprimanded next week. Oh well.

More of the graphic designer’s projects were dumped on me. Meanwhile, he took over a project I t_ and I know exactly what’s going to happen when the publication comes out: his work will be credited and mine will not. Because in that world, decorating is more important than listening. I’m prepared for the day when the publication arrives in the mail and shit’s exactly how I’ve imagined it. I’ve written and edited the email I’ll send out when this happens. I need to eat more red meat in order to stop obsessing depressing about this. I should have corrected 9 to 5 sooner. On a good day it’s an 8:30 to 9. On a bad day it is 8:30 to 12 and I’m the first one in the office, but I try to leave 2nd to last so that I don’t feel like such a loser, but I’m usually the last anyway. I think what bothers me most is that I’m now sensitive to completing work that is abovemy pay grade, but I feel guilted into doing it because no one else will. I need to STOP. | I read more of the AA (see previous post) today and decided to email an artist whose work came to mind while I was scanning some of the plates. She wrote back quickly and I doubt I will respond. I also came across an article my lover once printed out for me and decided that I’ll finally work on The project I’ve backburnered for 9 years. | If you want to be an (breaking the rules here) asshole by leaving out the e_ I suggested in the email I sent hours before you sent yours—I left right at 6 today because I was being treated like an intern. I think this is the new rule for the 9 to 5: treat me like an intern and I’ll leave at 6 on the dot and I’ll come in late the next morning. I’ll leave you hanging. I’ll leave before the intern does. Want the work to get done, you do it. I think I’ve dragged the point through the dirt and it’s time to bury it. | My parents are back from the country they happen to be from. My mother called at 9 and expected that I would stay on the phone for a while. She asked about work and my spot in the hood, about my sister. She sortof complained that my sister didn’t stay the whole time and I got sortof defensive, told my mother that my sister has a lot of responsibilit—nothing was really reaching my mother. | I left the AA at the office so I spent the train ride observing people until some girl in athletic pants over skimpy underwear stood in front of me. At that point, I dropped the dome and let myself get carried away in Notes. There was a semi-well known writer with her tennis racket on the ride, a man with a bulging gut, some guy who placed his Coke on the seat next to me yesterday, some 50 yo lady who kept smiling at the girl next to her, same old shit sort of ride. Same old shit sort of post. | Questions everyone should ask at architecture job interviews with non-principals: Do your employers (respect your work by) pay(ing) you on time?