ishyface: (i shall never grow old)
Brain: HEY.

Me: Oh, Christ.

Brain: KNOW WHAT WOULD BE AWFUL? IF YOU DIDN'T GET THAT PERMANENT POSITION YOU'RE INTERVIEWING FOR AT THE OFFICE TODAY. BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN THAT YOU'RE BAD AT EVERYTHING.

Me: Right, yeah, that sounds-

Brain: BUT KNOW WHAT WOULD BE EVEN WORSE THOUGH? IF YOU DID GET IT.

Me: ... Why?

Brain: BECAUSE IF YOU GET IT THAT MEANS YOU WILL BE STUCK IN UNSATISFYING OFFICE JOBS FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. NO WRITING. NO LIBRARY WORK. JUST FORMS AND EMAILS AND THAT ONE FAULTY LIGHT THAT FLICKERS AND MAKES YOUR EYE TWITCH. FOREVER.

Me: Hm. I do hate that one light.

Brain: I KNOW RIGHT.

Me: But, wait, Brain, this just doesn't scan. I'm a loser if I DON'T get it because that means I've failed. I'm a loser if I DO get it because it will be a kind of boring office job instead of My Calling™. But really, couldn't you turn both of those sentiments around? Like, I'm not a loser if I DON'T get it because hooray, I will still be free to look for work in my field! But I'm also not a loser if I DO get it, because hooray, a job that pays well, and that I can LITERALLY QUIT AT ANY TIME! That makes at least as much sense, and makes me feel way better about myself. Can't we go with that?

Brain: WE COULD.

Me: Well, that's grea-

Brain: BUT WE WON'T.

Me, sighing deeply: Of course we won't.
ishyface: (all the possibility and promise)
I ACTUALLY HAVE AN INTERVIEW WITH HALIFAX PUBLIC LIBRARIES NEXT WEDNESDAY.

A REAL LIVE INTERVIEW. FOR A UNIONIZED POSITION.* AS A LIBRARIAN, NOT A SAD INTERN.**

SHRIEK.***

* 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.
ishyface: (i shall never grow old)
I fully understand that there are Reasons why I am currently working a crappy fast food job, and that while a few of them are my fault, most of them are not, and that having a less-than-fulfilling minimum wage gig is nothing to be ashamed of, and that an honest living is an honest living, and that I am going to grad school and looking for something better, and that I should not feel like a failure at all.

But. You know.
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.

- GAME OF THRONES WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME.

- The new season of Arrested Development, which: eh.
ishyface: (i shall never grow old)
I've recently discovered a blog called Adulting, in which an intrepid reporter gives advice on how to behave like, well, an adult. It occasionally has some advice I disagree with- no one but no one is going to take away my goddamn posters, okay? I don't CARE if it's "college-y"- and there's this weird recurring Joan Holloway idolization that weirds me out*, but it is generally a very useful resource that has taught me some interesting tidbits. (Example: did you know you can put damp sponges in the microwave to get rid of bad sponge smells? Well, now you do!)

It's made me start thinking about things I do (or would like to start doing!) that make me feel like an adult, in that happy, cozy, I-am-not-the-fuckup-I-figured-I'd-be-when-I-was-thirteen-and-thinking-about-my-impending-adulthood way. Here are some of them:

1. Making lists. I make a fuck of a lot of lists. To Do lists, grocery lists, music lists, invite lists, clothing lists, lists of names for the hypothetical children my ladyfriend and I might eventually want to have.** Lists are quick, easy, and give your life that extra organizational boost you (and I) probably need.

2. Taking out the garbage the night before garbage day. Full disclosure: I did this for the first time last night and it was AWESOME. What seems to take forever first thing in the morning takes roughly five seconds at night, and then you don't have to worry about getting up early to catch the garbage truck. \o/

3. Taking your beer bottles to be recycled. Amy and I drink a lot. This is probably not news to anyone who's seen that elbow licking video, but, yeah, we do. For the past year or so we had roughly forty boxes of empties just stacked in corners, like that unwelcome guest who is still in your living room when 4 A.M. rolls around. A few weeks ago we lugged the lot of them to the local corner store to be recycled and got a whopping eleven dollars back for our trouble.*** It was like we were being paid to clear out our kitchen.

4. Making tea in a pot. This could also be "owning a tea pot," since there are few things that make you feel as delightfully, tweely adult as owning a tea pot. Using it is even better, though! Using a tea pot to make tea means that you get tea (which is a plus because tea), and also everyone around you gets tea (which is a plus because you seem very sweet and thoughtful while enjoying your own delicious tea). There are no losers in situations involving tea pots.

5. Doing the dishes immediately after meals. Because the only alternative is rummaging in your cupboard for a bowl and slowly realizing that every single one you own is in the sink under ten thousand encrusted soup tureens.

6. Setting time aside to do housework. This is an adult thing that I was very committed to as a preteen. Every Saturday would see me meticulously tidying my room (this routine included dusting and vacuuming), scouring my hamster's cage, and cleaning the backyard. And then I would sit down and eat donuts and reread Through The Looking-Glass. True story! Now that I have a job and also friends and a life I usually can't commit the exact same day and length of time every week to cleaning, but I still try to make sure I schedule at least a little time every week.

7. Getting things tailored. This is one of those things I'd like to start doing. Due to recent weight gain I've gotten rid of a lot of clothes I actually really liked, and have only recently discovered that I could have gotten half that shit fixed to fit my new voluminous ass. Also, apparently these days they actually hem your jeans so they don't get all gross and raggedy where you step on them! SOLD.

8. Eating breakfast. I hate breakfast. Like, really fucking hate it. When I get up in the morning all I want to do is drink tea and stare blearily at my computer screen waiting for the world to make sense. However, I started eating breakfast a few months ago (because I am taking vitamins and if you take them on an empty stomach you are guaranteed a one-way ticket to Pukeville), and you know what? It makes me more alert! I have more energy! I am more cheerful and less likely to be mopey about the fact that I am up early! It is sad that it took me twenty three years to figure this out, but now I know, and breakfast is a regular occurrence for me. I may hate having to choke down a NutriBar while the rest of the world snoozes madly on, but it beats being cranky and listless all day.

9. Keeping up with the news. Another thing I'd really like to start doing (but haven't yet). Newspapers, the evening news, blogs and websites- there are a hell of a lot of ways to keep up with current events and not feel like a dumbass when people talk about them in front of you.**** Also, your Tumblr dash is not a legitimate news outlet, ELLIOTT. GOD.

10. Keeping the medicine cabinet stocked. A word to the wise: when you run out of any item in your medicine cabinet, replace it immediately. It is vey tempting to look at whatever you've run out of, think "oh, I won't need that for a long time," and promptly forget about it... until a few days later when you desperately need that thing and all local stores are closed. Think you don't need more Aspirin? Congratulations, here's a migraine. Feel like you can go a few days without Pepto-Bismol? Enjoy your heartburn! Use the last Band-Aid and blithely throw away the box? I guarantee you will lose an appendage in a meat grinder the next day. Keep your medicine cabinet full at all times and you will never find yourself walking thirty minutes to an all-night convenience store at three in the morning to buy a ten-dollar bottle of Tylenol.

What makes you feel like an adult, flist?



* It weirds me out when anyone idolizes Joan Holloway, to be honest. Yes, Joan is foxy and occasionally funny, but she is also mean as fuck and tends to lash out at the people beneath her when her life is shitty. Which is most of the time, because she is a woman in the sixties who married her rapist. If you love her clothes or her wit or whatever, fair enough, but if you want to model yourself after her, as a lot of people seem to want to do, I totally do not get your deal and think you are a little weird. I feel the same way about people who are super into Britta from Community. She is the WORST, guys, WHY DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH HER.

** My current favourite is "Matilda."

*** I then used this to buy a cheap bottle of red wine. I am nothing if not consistent.

**** Is there anything worse than that burny-face feeling you get when someone asks you a question about a current headline that you not only know nothing about, but did not even know existed? Well... yes. There are a lot of things worse than that, like genocide and famine and malaria and school shootings. It's embarrassing, is what I'm saying.
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: (city at war!)
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

Despite her strangled-mountain-ox levels of hot, Olivia Wilde is now out of the running.

Three. )

Things I did today: listened to a coworker ramble on about aliens and conspiracy theories, ate Boston cream pie, watched Matilda, wondered what the hell Mara Wilson is up to now, played Scrabble (AND LOST. TWICE. MY SAINTED AUNT I HAVE BRUISED MY PRIDE), sang "El Scorcho" at maximum volume, scoured YouTube for videos of pugs.

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.
ishyface: (Default)
So today I got up at six, like you do, because I'd switched my Monday shift with someone who needed Sunday off and I am a Nice Person. At least when I get paid for it. I was in a pretty good mood, despite the whole morning thing- God, mornings are so unholy I want to KILL THEM WITH FIRE- and despite the fact that one of the cats threw up on my bed. I put on my headphones, walked up the hill to work, and promptly came face to face with the dude whose shift I supposedly took. He smiled sheepishly and waved.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I asked.

He wasn't.

Apparently the boss hadn't bothered to switch us and also hadn't bothered to tell me about it. Which didn't piss me off as much as you'd think, because it meant I got to go back home and spent the rest of the day chillin' with a cup of tea and reading Momo (which is just about as kickass as [livejournal.com profile] apiphile said). Also it means I get to keep my lip ring in all day. One of these days I'm gonna make a tl;dr poast all about why that fucking metal circle is so important to me and it'll be GLORIOUS and everybody will probably just click past it. I know I would.

Anyway. Hi! I haven't been around much in the past little while, and I probably still won't be around much in the next couple of weeks, and maybe even all summer, but whatever, today is an exception! What's up? Why is everybody talking about the Death of Glitter Bandom? Why does everybody still think that Josh Homme is attractive when he clearly looks like a giant baby?

Links and etc for your edutainment and learnjoyment. )

I get paid soon! This is inordinately pleasing to me, on account of it has been months since I've had any kind of disposable income and have roughly eighty frillion albums to buy. Hazards of Love, you will be MINE.

(Also? I never said anything about this, so while I'm here: Transfolks are not abominable snowmen! Transphobes, however, clearly are. Some people just need to grow the fucking fuck up.)
ishyface: (Default)
Today an old lady buying a metric fuckton of Newfoundland cookbooks told me, very solemnly and with a hint of disapproval, that I have very big eyes.

... Um. Sorry?

In happier news, I got to speak French today! I don't think I've had the opportunity to speak French at work since 2006, since most francophones in Atlantic Canada speak English and most anglophones in Atlantic Canada speak pretty bad French- myself included, God my French is atrocious- and it's usually not worth sitting through half an hour of mangled pronunciation and extravagant hand gestures just to know where the bathrooms are. But there was this woman who was lost and needed a map and I got to speak French, guys, I LOVE CANADA.

However, I do not love prorogation. "Prorogation," by the way, comes from the Latin "prorogis," which means "NO SOUP FOR YOU." >:(

To make up for that, I am putting together a picspam. A picspam full of LADIES. Expect it later on tonight, or possibly tomorrow morning because it is huge.

ETA: Forgot to mention that I love Spencer Smith's face. Just puttin' it out there.
ishyface: (*beam*)
Know what is awesome about working in a bookstore? Besides, you know, everything?

The fact that when things are slow and there's nothing to do, instead of making awkward small talk with your coworkers about what you're going to do after your shift* you make awesome small talk with your coworkers about how lame Edward Cullen is. &myjob;

I'm a little stressed out right now, because I have an essay to write and an exam to study for and I'm behind on NaNo again, argh, so here's a video of a tiiiiiiny French girl tells a story about Winnie the Pooh, Tigger, and a hippopotamus who is allergic to magic. I dare you not to squee.


Once upon a time... from Capucha on Vimeo.

*_*

* Although we did talk about that. My response: "Oh, I'm in for a crazy night. First I'm gonna go home. Then I'm gonna make a cup of tea. Then- and this is pretty intense, don't get too excited- I'm gonna write a paper."
ishyface: (*beam*)
I started my bookstore job on Tuesday.

... Guys. GUYS. THERE ARE SO MANY BOOKS IN THE WORLD AND I GET TO CHILL WITH THEM AND GET PAID FOR IT. :DDDD

(Restocking the erotica section is a little weird, though. I never knew how many people wrote sexy books about vampires. And all the titles have words like "velvet" and "forbidden" and "desire" and "seduction" in them. If I wrote a book called Velvet Seduction, Forbidden Desire: The Sensual Adventures of Horatio Ravisham, Vampire Demon-Lover I would make a bundle. A bundle I would not be able to tell my mother about, but a bundle nonetheless.)

Continuing the theme of "Things That Make Ish Ridiculously Happy," Tom Lenk came out! Which means I have an excuse to post a video full of my favourite Andrew moments, which means everybody wins. (Especially Tom Lenk.)



And while I'm at it...



... it's almost Halloween!

(IT IS ALSO ALMOST MY BIRTHDAY. JUST IN CASE YOU FORGOT.)

This morning I played around with eyeliner. I wanted to get that consumptive look. )

Whenever I list movies that make me cry I forget to put Pleasantville on there. It's Jeff Daniels' character that does me in- when he stares at the art book and says "where am I going to see colours like that?" (Little known fact: there is a town pretty close to St. John's that is named Pleasantville! It makes me laugh and laugh and then kind of want to take the bus there so I can hang out with Joan Allen.)

... This entry has no unifying theme. I mean, other than "DEAR INTERNETS: HERE ARE THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY. ALSO, IT'S MY BIRTHDAY SOON. ALSO, I'M A CAMWHORE."
ishyface: (Default)
I was sick today, and it made me feel like this:

Photobucket

However, in almost all other respects things are good, for the following reasons:

- I made a cake today! And... kind of broke it a little. And by "a little" I mean "holy fuck, that was a cake?" WHATEVER, STILL TOTALLY EDIBLE (AND DELICIOUS).

- Another thing I made? A present for [livejournal.com profile] redheaded_itch. :D

- Watching Panic At The Disco on MOD with the whole family. The best part was when they played the video for "That Green Gentleman," because Dad stared at it (and by "it" I mean "Ryan Ross") confusedly while the rest of us sang along. He eventually said, with an air of finality so grim he might have been pronouncing the Apocalypse, "They look like DORKS." Welcome to the fold, Dad.

- I found a terrible idea in one of my notebooks! )

- Hallowe'en costume is 99% complete. I just need to fool around with makeup to ensure I look properly dead.

- Who Killed Amanda Palmer! SO AMAZING. SO BEAUTIFUL. SO APPROVED BY NEIL GAIMAN. (Why did none of you tell me about that part? YOU'RE ALL ON NOTICE.) I think "Guitar Hero" and "Oasis" might be my favourite tracks, but I'll most likely change my mind in the morning.)

- New posters! Four of them. )

- Fuck City has a Twitter! I am inexplicably charmed by Matt Mixon and his pretty lady smile.

- I GOT A JOB. A NEW ONE. IN A BOOKSTORE. WHICH MEANS I GET TO QUIT MY CURRENT, CRAPPY JOB. I HAVE WANTED TO WORK IN A BOOKSTORE SINCE I WAS A LITTLE KID,* GUYS, THIS IS SERIOUSLY EXCITING FOR ME. \o/

A++ day, universe!

* When I was a little kid I also wanted to be an artist. And a firefighter. And a rabbi. Not all dreams can come true.
ishyface: (Default)
I ATEN'T DEAD. (Yet.)

Moving is ass, you guys. As of last night, we were all sleeping on air mattresses; as of tonight, we will all be sleeping on our fourth cousins' couches; as of tomorrow, we will all be sleeping in the van. And I won't be able to shower for days. YAY.

The cats are super freaked. Dyson has been hiding under a chair for the last four hours.

I have many fun and interesting things to say, like about how camp is over and was both magical and terrifying, and about how I helped steal ice cream at midnight (I was a sentinel!), and about how I hate Macs, and about how I said goodbye to streets and trees and old graffiti, and about how canoeing in the dark is that much better when you make code names for each other, and about how my lip is infected (neither fun nor interesting, but topical, I think), and about how I seem to have the magical ability to queer straight girls, and about how I can keep going on very little sleep and a bottle of Nos for-EVER,* and about [livejournal.com profile] redheaded_itch's groovy new apartment, and about how the Hush Sound wrote a song about Barack Obama and how precious is that, seriously, and about how swinging on swings is better when you can see the stars, but at the moment I am busy watching a documentary with Little Sister and Little Brother about how Wal-Mart is evil. (Little Sister chose it. I love my family, have I mentioned that recently? Well, I do.)

* RED BULL IS FOR WUSSIES. YEAH. I SAID IT.
ishyface: (kiss my sass)
... ostensibly to register for courses, but really to tell you all THIS.

Camper: *pokes head into kitchen* All right, perogies! Keep up the good work, ladies! *looks at me* And... uh... gentleman...?

GENDERFUCKING AT CHURCH CAMP. \o/

Also, there is a list on the board to my right entitled "5 Things You Should Know About Christianity." They are as follows:

1. Be nice to others.
2. Jesus is the son of God.
3. Love thy neighbour.
4. Get presents on Christmas.
5. Eat chocolate on Easter.

Christmas presents: less important than loving your neighbour, but only just.

Meme-ery.

Jun. 13th, 2008 12:38 pm
ishyface: (*beam*)
Stolen from [livejournal.com profile] ix_tab:

T H E N ↔ N O W

I think there is a very good chance that I will get that camp job! This is exciting for several reasons:

1) I'll finally get to have the wholesome, non-traumatizing summer camp experience I always wanted. (I've been to camp before, but one saw me in a bonnet milking a cow and the other saw me attending a reenactment of the Crucifixion, so...)

2) Since I'll be away from home I will actually save the money I make instead of spending it all on posters and CDs, as I am usually wont to do.

3) I will get to quit Job Crafty!

This last is particularly thrilling. I was wrong to ever think that working in a craft store would be fun (the last time I was this brand of wrong I thought, "hey, working at Tim Horton's will be a fun and rewarding experience!"), and I want nothing more than to walk in, say "I quit," and flip them off as I leave. I mean, I probably won't actually DO that, but it's nice to dream.

So really, the only downside is that I might get a tan.

I will miss being able to bum around Halifax, but there are always weekends and the prospect of picnics and covert body modification. (Both integral parts of my summer experience.) And there's a festival on Citadel Hill sometime next month, which I will hopefully be able to attend because Stars is playing and I kind of love them ridiculously!

Photobucket

And maybe I will actually take pictures of everything like I've meant to for the past two years, because if hanging out on the Internet has taught me anything, it's that if no one's taken a picture of it it probably doesn't exist.


There is something glorious about hearing the Spice Girls come on the radio in this day and age. /senility

ETA: And, stolen from [livejournal.com profile] montrealais, a very informative article that says no, your dick doesn't make you good at math. Once again, Iceland is where Good Things happen.
ishyface: (Default)
Bad thing:

I am working with a dreadful person. Her name is Effie, and she's got soulless eyes, and may in fact be Satan himself. Last night she made me cry.

Good thing:

Last night, again, a woman came to the register with her daughter, maybe three or four years old. The mother ran to the back of the store to get something she'd forgotten. The little girl squinted at me over the counter, then pointed to the Archie comics.

"Are these joking books?" she asked me, in a very critical little-kid voice.

"Sort of," I replied.

She picked one up and looked at it consideringly. "Does it have rhymes?"

I'd read a lot of Archie comics as a kid, but couldn't remember any having rhymes. "I don't think so," I said. "Just pictures."

"And words," she pointed out triumphantly as she flipped it open, giving me one of those hard, disapproving looks that children give you when they think they've caught you in a lie. She jabbed at one of the speech bubbles, in which Reggie was telling the other Riverdale boys that he didn't blame them for making a move on his girl, as she was such a doll. Or maybe peach. "What does this say?" she asked.

We stood there for a few minutes, her finger moving from one bubble to another as I read to her, feeling slightly foolish, bits of dialogue put in the mouths of teenagers with seventies vocabularies and eighties wardrobes by old men who'd forgotten both of those decades, and she nodded, very seriously, filing it all away somewhere for reference.

Her mum came back to the counter, flustered, and apologized for holding up the line. She told the little girl to scan her candy- I think it was a pushpop- and then told her to thank the nice lady.

She said "'nk you," and then asked her mother if they could buy the comic, since it had jokes in it, and I wondered what she'd be like when she learned how to read.

I hope she'll find a really good book someday, one that smells like libraries do on rainy days, one with someone else's name scrawled in pencil on the inside cover. I hope she'll fall in love with it. I hope she'll curl up on a comfy chair and get lost and won't come when dinner's ready.

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