ishyface: (when silly thoughts go through my head)
Me: Wow. They're really not trying at all anymore, are they?
Amy: I'm hoping that soon they'll do a wacky episode about a Martian.
Me: And they'll have to operate on him to take the gleeborp out of his klipnards.
Amy: And then it'll turn out to be lupus.
ishyface: ('cause today i found my friends)
Last night Amy and I went out to dinner with her mum, her ex-stepfather, and her stepbrothers. It was going quite well overall- there was wine and pasta and at one point the stepbrothers were yelling about their sister, who lives in Ottawa and seems to be universally hated, and it's always interesting to get a sudden window into other people's family drama- and then I had a conversation I've had more times than is strictly necessary. Which is to say, at all.

One of her stepbrothers was cold, and asked if anyone had a jacket he could borrow. I wasn't cold, and he looked kind of sad and puppylike, so I gave him mine. It's a green jacket with a yellow smiley face button on the lapel. He noticed it after a few minutes and asked- slurring a little because we were most of the way through a bottle at that point- what it was.

"It's a smiley face button," I said.

He shook his head. "It should be an anti-immigration button," he said.

Please note: we were not talking about immigration. We had not been talking about immigration the whole evening. As I recall, the last thing this gentleman and I had actually spoken about was his partner, Steven, and how they might be breaking up soon. So I suppose immigration was just on his mind, and he wanted to have a good long gumflap about how much he didn't like it. Or something.

I said, "My mother's an immigrant."

Now, in this conversation, saying that a person close to you (a family member or spouse for preference, although sometimes a close friend or coworker is good enough) is an immigrant has one of two results. Either 1) the person gets very embarrassed and backtracks, often naming all the perfectly lovely people they know who are immigrants, or 2) they ask where exactly the person is from. Which this gentleman did.

"The UK," I replied.

The gentleman made a face I've seen a fair few times during this conversation. When I tell people that my mother is an immigrant, they tend to assume I mean that she is not white, because that is the picture they have filed inside their head under "immigrant." An immigrant is a person of colour, or at least a delightfully "ethnic" shade of white. (Like a kooky Greek, maybe, or a fiery Italian.) The face is a sort of relieved grimace, an oh-thank-God-I-thought-you-might-be-one-of-them expression.

"Oh, well, that's different," he said. "That's not the kind of immigration I was talking about."

You always know the kind of immigration they're talking about. Always. But I bit anyway.

"What kind of immigration were you talking about?" I asked.

He waved his hands expressively. "You know," he said. "Terrorists!"

I shut the conversation down after that.
ishyface: (twisted by design)
THE RULES
1. I have picked 10 celebs that I find attractive;
2. Every day(ish), I will make a poll and you'll have to vote for the celeb you find the least attractive;
3. After 24 hours, the poll will be closed and the man/woman with the most votes will be disqualified. There will then be a new poll with the remaining contestants;
4. After ten days, there will be one winner! :D

Christina Hendricks wins at hot! Like anyone is suprised. In lieu of a picture, here is a clip from Firefly.



I will always think of her as YoSaffBridge, Mad Men notwithstanding.

Little Brother, while watching a National Geographic special: ... and you shouldn't have piercings when you're in Australia anyway, because the spiders will land on them.
Ish: Yes! And the spiders will be all "I'LL RIP YOUR PIERCINGS OFF." And then their homies will hold them back so they don't look soft.
ishyface: (camping it up)
Ish: Hey, Eddie. Apparently Justin Bieber wants to punch the Jonas Brothers.
Little Brother: Really? Huh.
Ish: Man, who would you root for in that fight?
Little Brother: Um... if it was all the Jonas Brothers together? I'd have to go with Beebs. But if he just wanted to fight the fat gay one then I'd support the fat gay one.

Team Fat Gay One forever.
ishyface: (oh my god!)
Grumpy Coworker: I've figured it out.
Ish: ?
Grumpy Coworker: You're either extremely positive, very subtly sarcastic, or retarded.

I feel like I should put that on a business card or something.
ishyface: (Default)
When my little sister heard about the upcoming FOBlink-182 tourvaganza, she got very big-eyed and said:

"I want to go to that concert. More than anything in the world."

"Huh," I said, intrigued. "Do you want it even more than, say, world peace?"

She nodded solemnly.

"You do know that makes you a bad person, right?" I asked.

"No!" she replied, shaking her head. "Because that concert will make world peace happen."

I love you, Little Sister.

Guyssssss it was so WARM today! So warm there were kids out playing on the street all day! So warm I got to lie out on my back deck and absorb the sunshine like a furry purry kitty! So warm I didn't even put on socks! (I pretty much always wear socks- brightly-patterned knee socks, for preference- so this is a big deal.) I've got my window wide open and I can hear frogs somewhere out there and it is SUMMER FUCK YEAH FINALLY. \o/

I mean, it snowed again a few days ago, but whatever. SUMMER.

I have been feeling kind of ridiculously optimistic about things lately. This is partially due to FUCK YEAH SUMMER, but also because I have decided to spend this summer Being Productive, and so far I'm doing pretty well! I've been writing and practicing bass and working like a motherfucker and it feels really good to be busy because I think I've been kind of doing nothing for a while. Even during the school year.

I've also been reading a lot, which I choose to count as Being Productive because, um, reading is good for the brainmeats? I dunno. Here are some of the books I've read, complete with pocket-sized reviews!

Books, books, books. )

I'm currently reading Out by Natsuo Kirino (delightfully creepy and full of social commentary) and The Lady Elizabeth by Alison Weir (interesting, but it's really easy to tell she usually writes nonfiction- her style is kind of clumsy and she can never seem to decide whose head she wants to be in). Books are fab.
ishyface: (oh my god!)
Little Brother: *hums*
Ish: What are you humming, dude?
Little Brother: The Hi Ho song! Or the, um, Hi Lady of the Evening song.
Ish: ... *dies laughing*
Little Brother: What? I'm just trying to be politically correct!
ishyface: (Default)
Today in Sci Fi and Fantasy we were discussing (for a given value of "discussing"- nobody ever talks in that class) Connie Willis's Doomsday Book, which is about time travel and the plague and other nifty things. About half the book takes place in the Middle Ages around Christmastime, and one scene involves the Christmas liturgy.

Professor Walsh: So what's the message of the liturgy in this scene?
Class: ...
Crickets: *chirp*
Professor Walsh, frustrated: Oh, come on.
Class: ...
Someone in the back: *cough*
Professor Walsh: Whatever you're thinking, it's probably right! This is an easy one. What was the message of the Christmas mass?
Ish: *tentatively raises hand* ... Jesus was born and it was awesome?

Ish: simplifying Christianity since 1988.

And then Trnka explained Hobbes' views on equal rights thusly: "Equality sucks, because then everybody gets an equal opportunity to try and kill you." Oh, Hobbes. You're the Eeyore of philosophy.

To be honest, though, I'm kind of hating school right now. This is mostly due to Grammar. I haven't worked so hard at a class in ages- I study, I take meticulous notes, I go to the teacher for extra lessons, but my average so far is still a 60. :/ It's frustrating, especially since I don't know why I'm doing so badly.

Although it may be partly due to a phenomenon I've only recently noticed- namely, that I seem to have a radio station playing in my head at all times. Here's how that works:

Ish: *sits down* Okay, Self, today is the day you pull it all together. You are going to pay attention. You are going to get good grades. You are not going to zone out and think about Pete Wentz or his baby.
Prof: Good morning, class! Today we are going to learn about-
Ish's Own Personal Radio Station: WWWWWWWWWWWWELCOME BACK TO ANOTHER FORTY MINUTE MUSIC MARATHON! Today we'll be playing a distracting selection of hip and groovy tunes that will get stuck in your head forever and drown out whatever the hell that guy's saying! *plays "Take Me Out," "Dancing Queen," entire Beatles catalogue*
Ish: :)
Prof: - and that's absolutely everything you need to know to pass the final exam. Bye!
Ish: :(

Does that happen to everyone or is it just me? Just me? Okay.
ishyface: (oh my god!)
This is why I love hanging out with my little sister.

Ish: *reads* Wow, Stephenie Meyer's idea of what's sexy and dangerous is fucking warped. This vampire kid is hot because he drives a Volvo! And wears white turtlenecks!
Little Sister: *confused face* But I thought... don't only girls have Volvos?
Ish: *stares*
Little Sister: ... :D?
Ish: "Volvo," Stephanie, not "vulva."
Little Sister: Ohhhh. I thought they were the same thing!

God help that kid if she ever tries to buy a car. ♥

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