ishyface: (all the possibility and promise)



* Alright, so it's a unionized floater position that would only give me twenty hours a month. I'd still be in the union and therefore eligible to apply for a lot more jobs (and I would actually be considered for those jobs and not have my resume thrown immediately onto the Fuck It Pile).

** Note: I am not ACTUALLY sad about my internship. Though I am a little sad about the pay.

*** This may not sound that exciting, but I swear HPL is harder to get into than the damn Mafia. I've seriously applied for almost every position they've advertised for the past two and a half years and this is the first time I have gotten a callback.


Apr. 10th, 2014 11:52 am
ishyface: (i shall never grow old)
Sometimes I feel guilty that I'm not living the way I always imagined I would in my twenties. When I imagined where I'd be now as a teenager I pictured, oh, squatting in a broken-down townhouse full of punks and artists and radicals, and writing beautiful terrible drunk poetry, and having awkward one-night stands. Getting cool haircuts. Not owning a TV. Maybe making zines or something. Drugs and late nights and waking up in unfamiliar places. Instead I'm in grad school, engaged, and living in an apartment in the not-quite-suburbs. With a TV and matching lamps. And a fuckton of cats.

I mean, I expected the cats. But not the rest of it. I wear cardigans now, and frame pictures instead of tacking them directly onto the wall, and I've fallen asleep on the couch three times this week! Before midnight, even!

I like my life, but I find it interesting that it bears so little resemblance to the way I thought I'd live when I was young. I don't believe in selling out as a concept anymore, really, for a lot of reasons, but I did back then, and I know that's what I'd think happened.

I still plan on getting a lot of tattoos, though. And cool haircuts. So there's that, I suppose.
ishyface: (i shall never grow old)
- The reintroduction of Wellbutrin to my life. That is going pretty well, although I was a deeply paranoid mess for the first two weeks and spent a lot of time listening to Kid A and thinking a lizard-man was going to drown me in the bath. I also thought I was Patton Oswalt for like ten seconds, but that may be unrelated.

- An epic going-away party in which I had many drunk feelings and yelled about them. I hugged a lot of people and didn't cry that much. As parties go, it was a good one.

- A move from St. John's to Halifax. I haven't lived full-time in N.S. since 2006, and it's a major adjustment. No one here eats salt meat and they look at me funny when I say "yis." (Then again, Newfoundlanders also look at me funny when I say "yis." My Newfoundland accent leaves something to be desired. Like, for example, any resemblance to an actual Newfoundland accent.) I keep seeing people I think I recognize from high school and staring at them intently. Beginning to wonder if am giving impression of being axe-murderer.

- The end of a job I really, really liked. Working in a bank was not exciting, but it was secure and enjoyable and the people that I worked with were, by and large, very nice. (And they gave me a handbag with zombies on it on my last day, because I was apparently their pet alternabrat. So cute.) Since getting to Halifax I've applied for roughly forty jobs, got interviews for four, and was accepted for one... at Subway. "Displeased" does not quite cover my feelings on this situation, but I am still busily applying for other things, and in the meantime, it's a way to pay the bills.

Also, I get tips, which are pretty rad.

- Dal registration. I have my schedule for my first semester of library school, and I am unbearably excited even though my first class is unbearably early.

- The acquisition of a wee apartment building (with a deck!), nicknamed "The Bro's Nest."

- The acquisition of a mature white lady-cat, name of Violet. She is very affectionate in that anxious, if-I-don't-follow-you-to-the-bathroom-you-will-surely-disappear way that is so particular to shelter cats. The other pusses have adjusted, with the exception of Roman, who seems to be certain that we brought her here specifically to ruin his life. Then again, that is his response to pretty much everything.

- The acquisition of an Amy, who could not initially move down with me because our lease was not up. BUT NOW I HAVE MY CLAWS IN HER AND SHE CANNOT ESCAPE. She finds Halifax bizarre, partly because someone cat-called her the other day by yelling "you're beautiful!" And because people get shot here a lot. She is going to apply to the Funeral Direction program at NSCC, so she can learn how to chill with dead people and their friends.

- The acquisition of NOT A SINGLE FRIEND. I'm okay with it as of right now, because no one has friends when they first move, and the few people I knew in high school who I'd want to be friends with now seem to have vanished. However, if I do not have friends by the end of September I shall be quite put out.


- The new season of Arrested Development, which: eh.
ishyface: (i shall never grow old)
My Chemical Romance broke up.

The day afterward I got accepted to grad school.

This has been a week of many, many feelings.

(Today is also my five-year antiversary.* The amount of feelings I am having is practically illegal.)

* tl;dr on this day five years ago I broke up with someone I thought I was going to marry kind of and it made me really sad and then it made me really happy and now I make sure to make note of the date whenever it comes around. Only Very Old LJ Friends will remember this happening, so if you do, congrats, you are practically ready for retirement.

oh, bless

May. 9th, 2012 12:06 pm
ishyface: (everyone's so intimately rearranged)
Introducing Laura Jane Grace. I am so excited for her I may pee a little.
ishyface: (she don't use jelly)
So last night Amy and I went out to have a few drinks at a local bar and ended up crashing a lesbianish bachelorette party that involved Belinda Carlisle karaoke and a screening of The Room (BEST. MOVIE. EVER) and we thought we made a friend except he turned out to be a fucking racist dick so he wasn't a friend after all and there was a very patient bartender and endless glasses of red wine and someone put a jamjam down my shirt. And I'm still drunk.

It was a good night.
ishyface: (all the possibility and promise)

I started university on September 6th, 2006. I was an awkward, rumpled, mousy little thing who couldn't look anyone in the eye. I was pursuing an English degree without having any idea as to what I would do with it- I just knew I loved books and wanted to read as many of them as possible. Thinking about career opportunities and life after graduation seemed a bit pointless. I wasn't sure if I'd make it to grad. I wasn't even sure if I'd make it past my first year. This is because when I started university I was miserable, unmedicated, friendless, cripplingly shy, and an all-around sad panda who didn't like hirself very much. It seemed as though I had nothing to look forward to, up to and including getting my degree.

I graduated on May 24th, 2011. I expected to have a lot of Big Feelings on my way across the stage, but mostly I felt a little nervous (and a lot embarrassed for having buttoned up my cardigan wrong). Most of my Big Feelings are happening now, days after the fact. And my Big Feelings are mostly that I'm fucking rad.

I am twenty-two years old. I have a degree and kept an A average throughout all five years of my program. I've written five novels. I am planning on going to grad school. I'm medicated. I made it out of university without getting into debt. I have fantastic friends and a beautiful, funny fiancee, as well as a pet mouse and a bunny and, as of this afternoon, a cat (!!!). I'm smart, I'm cute, I make people laugh, I can cook and play chess and recite "Jabberwocky" even when I'm blitzed out of my skull. (Especially then.) I'm pretty fucking awesome, all things considered. And as much as B.A.s are useless in the "real world"- which is a place I've never been and never plan to go- I feel like when I'm having a bad day and I forget all the things that make me awesome I'll be able to look at that degree and remember, oh yeah, I did that.

And that's pretty great.

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don't bother remembering
any of it. Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

- "Antilamentation," Dorianne Laux
ishyface: (deny me and be doomed)
Every now and again I get the strongest urge to update my LJ. This usually happens when I am at work and have a line of twenty-seven customers, and so all I can do is sigh and hope that I remember it later. Usually by the time I get home I'll have forgotten whatever brilliant thing I was going to say about school or puppies or string cheese or whatever I was thinking about.

You are not really missing much, to be totally honest.

Today I got that urge and realized hey, I am sitting at my laptop! With a Notepad window open, even! And so I started to type a beautiful entry about what I am doing, where I feel my life is going, and what I am looking forward to in the months to come. It was pretty great.

Then I dropped my computer on the floor and had to restart it without getting the chance to save what I'd written. So it goes.*

Here is the shortened version. )
ishyface: (reading is neat)
I am about to leave for the last exam I will ever take as an undergrad.

Wish me luck.
ishyface: (Default)
I showed a bunch of people in the Centre James Joyce's letters to Nora today.

ishyface: (Default)
My current favourite song, thanks to [ profile] jilly_ma_bean.

And we sing with our heroes thirty-three rounds per minute
We're never going home until the sun says we're finished
And I'll love you forever if I ever love at all
Wild hearts, blue jeans and white t-shirts
With wild hearts, blue jeans and white t-shirts
ishyface: (*beam*)
Spent the last night of 2009 in a happy haze of beer, pot, and gingerbread with some delightful people. And got a call from a very certain girl at the stroke of midnight.

2010, you are off to a good start.

Time for that meme I post every year. )
ishyface: (oh my god!)
Dear Rihanna,

You need to get in touch with a major studio head immediately.


P.S.: Run, don't walk. This is important.

ishyface: (*beam*)
This weekend, I...

... wore a schoolgirl outfit and claimed I was dressed as a victim of tentacle rape.

... helped someone shop for an anniversary gift.

... went to a house party where I drank delicious purple punch and danced like a mofo to "Living Dead Girl" and "I Love Myself Today." And was slightly molested by a drunk gay boy. (This same boy tried to teach me how to waltz. It did not take.)

... had one of those interesting two-in-the-morning walks that involve Deep Discussions and many lols.

... made cupcakes.

... was a riot grrrl. She's got the hottest trike in town. )

... went trick-or-treating for the first time in years, with a Glinda, a Victorian vampire, a cat-girl, and a Jack Skellington.

... sang "Bohemian Rhapsody" at a bus stop.

... attended another house party that involved psychedelic ceiling projections, Shiva, and being renamed "Flatchest."

... went to the gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar and saw an old friend from Corner Brook in a dinosaur costume.

... tried to keep track of Drunk Gay Boy (yeah, same one) while grooving to the Veronicas.

... saw a guy dressed as Dr. Horrible.

... was smooched by a drag queen.

... was smooched by a lady.

... slowdanced.

... met a boy with a green mohawk dressed as Frank-N-Furter and got angry at him for saying that women can't write. (He argued that since he likes the Slits it's okay that he thinks this and he's not sexist. Which, um, no, dude.)

... slept on someone's floor and snuggled. :)

... celebrated my famjam birthday and requested "Oasis" instead of "Happy Birthday." (They sang it for me, too! At least Little Brother and Sister did- Mum and Dad just kind of stared in horror.)

And now I'm writing a take-home exam. (Theoretically, at least.)

Tomorrow I will be twenty-one. I am trying not to freak out too hard about it, and fully intend on buying Hedwig tickets as a birthday present to ME. And maybe a tattoo as well. \o/
ishyface: (*beam*)
20 Websites From Before The Internet Was Invented. #9 is my favourite. Oh, Oliver Cromwell, you were such a dick.

Lyn-Z and that nerd she married. ♥

(Also, Ellen DeGeneres and that nerd she married. ♥♥♥♥♥)

Man Called Zombie While Ordering Food, Punched Twice. There will never be a greater headline than that. Ever. Read it over a few times and savour its AWESOME.

'Skirt boys' make waves in wild world of Tokyo street fashion. I was going to make an anime joke here but then I decided it'd be a little too obvious.

The Kindest Cut: In Colorado, a surgeon helps restore feeling—and so much more—to victims of female genital mutilation. This whole article made me tear up a little. Especially this bit:

A California nurse, Ngozi, who was circumcised as a newborn in Nigeria and also had her labia entirely cut away, came to Bowers in August. She is already feeling results, she tells NEWSWEEK. "Before, I would look at my textbook and look at myself and they were two different things. I wasn't even human." Bowers performed not only the clitoral operation but also plastic surgery to create labia for Ngozi, 34. "Now when I look at myself I feel like a woman," says Ngozi, who says she has even experienced orgasms for the first time in her life. "It's beautiful, I just love it, it feels like you're melting. Before it irritated me when my husband tried to touch me, now I reach out to him."

♥______________; GUYSSSSSSSSSS

Going to school in boymode. )

This video about how science is magic.

The world is just awesome. <3

In unrelated news, since it seems I will be in university for a good long while yet (this is because I transferred and dropped a class and also God hates me), I am considering getting a certificate in Library Science as well as a diploma in Creative Writing. That way I will nourish both my lifelong dream of being a ~writer and my need to eventually support myself and any cats I may choose to adopt. Good idea, y/n/you're going to be in school until you die, aren't you?
ishyface: (*beam*)
Songs I heard on the radio today that just happen to be my favourites: "Welcome To The Black Parade" by My Chemical Romance, "No Rain" by Blind Melon, "Load Me Up" by Matthew Good Band, "When I Come Around" by Green Day, "Losing My Religion" by R.E.M., and "Sex On Fire" by Kings of Leon. And not a single Simple Plan tune! Good show, radio, good show.

(A lot of those songs have really specific memories attached to them for me, which is why I like them so much. The one that strikes me most is "Load Me Up"- I listened to that on the long drive to Corner Brook for my first year of university. In my head it's all dark roads and bright lights and sleepy holding hands. Naww.)

I am starting to hate my job! That took... longer than I'd expected, to be honest. :/ It is partly because of the insaaaaaane gender segregation there- and the fact that I have apparently been relegated to The Girl Table, which, yeah- but mostly it's because people keep telling me things.

FYI: there are some things I do not want to know! For example, I don't want to know who you think killed Kurt CObain. I do not want to know how badly you want to bang Robert Pattinson. I do not want to know about how precious your grandchildren are. I do not want to know which Jonas Brother is your favourite.* I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW WHEN YOU LAST HAD SEX WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND AND WHETHER OR NOT HE CAME IN YOU JESUS CHRIST NO. And yet, these are the things people have been gleefully filling my ears with for the past few months.

Honestly, it makes me worry that I come off as friendly and approachable. I am NEITHER. Clearly I need to work on my glower. For the moment I will content myself with decorating fruit pies to look like colourful vaginas.

In news that does not involve me being a misanthrope, I've got my classes mostly picked for the upcoming semester. Mostly. I am taking Victorian Literature (requirement- I am not a big fan of the Victorians), Logic (another requirement, I'm not a big fan of logic either), Philosophy and Contemporary Issues (I expect to defend the ethics of abortion at least once a week), Contemporary Religious Movements (filler class), and Utopias and Dystopias. I'm only waitlisted for that one, though, so I may have to take something else to fill up the time slot. I'm thinking either a class on the Greek gods or a History of the Roma in Eastern Europe course.

God, I love college. (And women. And drinking. And blah blah blah.)

Links and things. )

I've spent the last week or two working, dressing up as a goffick person and hanging out in grocery stores, riding in shopping carts at midnight, talking about books, watching musicals, pulling poetry out of hats, and refusing to clean my house. Being me is kind of really enjoyable right now.

* PLEASE NOTE: This is a lie.
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.

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