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on being an adult
Feb. 22nd, 2012 01:52 pmI'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.
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.
jay eff see
Aug. 16th, 2011 09:06 pmLast 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.
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.
funny joke everybody laugh
Jul. 26th, 2011 01:26 amThis is a backdated entry to say HAPPY TEN-YEAR LJVERSARY TO ME. Ten years ago I got a LiveJournal so I could tell all the Internets about Jesus and summer camp and how much the character Matt from Digimon really, y'know, MEANT something to me. Ten years later I am still just as bad at real life as I was as a twelve-year-old, but hopefully I hide it a little better. \o/
a story with a happy ending
Jul. 11th, 2011 10:47 amSo 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.
It was a good night.
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
i'm losing my shit
Apr. 11th, 2011 11:18 amI am about to leave for the last exam I will ever take as an undergrad.
Wish me luck.
Wish me luck.
the thirty day meme, day twenty nine
Jun. 23rd, 2010 11:29 pmDay 01 → Your favorite song
Day 02 → Your favorite movie
Day 03 → Your favorite television programme
Day 04 → Your favorite book
Day 05 → Your favorite quote
Day 06 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 → A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 → A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 → A photo you took
Day 10 → A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 → A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 → A fictional book
Day 14 → A non-fictional book
Day 15 → A fanfic
Day 16 → A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
Day 17 → An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 18 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 19 → A talent of yours
Day 20 → A hobby of yours
Day 21 → A recipe
Day 22 → A website
Day 23 → A YouTube video
Day 24 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 25 → Your day, in great detail
Day 26 → Your week, in great detail
Day 27 → This month, in great detail
Day 28 → This year, in great detail
Day 29 → Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Plans, in no particular order: Work. Write. Drink. Move out. Learn to play my fucking, fucking bass. Finish my BA. Tell dumb jokes. Figure out what to do about grad school, living situations, life in general. Get my name legally changed.* Make cornbread (I have been meaning to do this for ages). Possibly try to become a vegetarian again. Go to concerts. Finish Oliver Twist. Get more tattoos. Buy a houseplant. Watch Dr. Who.
Hopes, in no particular order: That my last year of university will be fun and okay and not a fiasco and, um, actually my last year (if I have to take a sixth year I may choke myself). That I will not fuck myself over academically again. That I will somehow be able to decide where I want to go after graduation.** That I will be able to travel at some point, preferably to places I haven't been before. That I won't start feeling silly about having blue hair and alternative facial piercings. That I'll work up the nerve to tell future coworkers and bosses that I don't want to go by my given name. That I will do great things without compromising, a la Echobelly.
Dreams, in no particular order: Last night I dreamed an entire novel, but some horrible noise startled me awake around three o'clock and I promptly forgot absolutely everything about it except for an old man sitting in a broken armchair covered in dust, smoking a cheap cigar and laughing.
* Elliott Gerald Gish.*** Which will make me a Gee, an El, an Ish, and an EGG.
** My choices at the moment are: stay in St. John's for a(n extra) year (pros: more time with friends and Older Sister; cons: more time in Newfoundland), go to Halifax for a year (pros: get to live in city of my heart; cons: would likely have to live there with parents), hop a plane overseas to England and live with one of my aunts for a year (pros: starting over somewhere where no one knows me; cons: starting over somewhere where no one knows me).
*** I am not going to keep my surname because I don't like my father's side of the family. I could take my mother's maiden name, but "Elliott Gerald Mawdsley" sounds kind of dorky. I wish I could say that I have some deep, symbolic reason for picking it, but honestly, I just like the way it sounds. It is a German name, which is relevant for me because the only non-Irish bits of me come from a German ancestor on my mother's side. It is also a Smashing Pumpkins album, the last name of one of the leads from SLC Punk!, and a type of D&D character, but that is entirely coincidental.
Day 02 → Your favorite movie
Day 03 → Your favorite television programme
Day 04 → Your favorite book
Day 05 → Your favorite quote
Day 06 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 → A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 → A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 → A photo you took
Day 10 → A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 → A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 → A fictional book
Day 14 → A non-fictional book
Day 15 → A fanfic
Day 16 → A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
Day 17 → An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 18 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 19 → A talent of yours
Day 20 → A hobby of yours
Day 21 → A recipe
Day 22 → A website
Day 23 → A YouTube video
Day 24 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 25 → Your day, in great detail
Day 26 → Your week, in great detail
Day 27 → This month, in great detail
Day 28 → This year, in great detail
Day 29 → Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Plans, in no particular order: Work. Write. Drink. Move out. Learn to play my fucking, fucking bass. Finish my BA. Tell dumb jokes. Figure out what to do about grad school, living situations, life in general. Get my name legally changed.* Make cornbread (I have been meaning to do this for ages). Possibly try to become a vegetarian again. Go to concerts. Finish Oliver Twist. Get more tattoos. Buy a houseplant. Watch Dr. Who.
Hopes, in no particular order: That my last year of university will be fun and okay and not a fiasco and, um, actually my last year (if I have to take a sixth year I may choke myself). That I will not fuck myself over academically again. That I will somehow be able to decide where I want to go after graduation.** That I will be able to travel at some point, preferably to places I haven't been before. That I won't start feeling silly about having blue hair and alternative facial piercings. That I'll work up the nerve to tell future coworkers and bosses that I don't want to go by my given name. That I will do great things without compromising, a la Echobelly.
Dreams, in no particular order: Last night I dreamed an entire novel, but some horrible noise startled me awake around three o'clock and I promptly forgot absolutely everything about it except for an old man sitting in a broken armchair covered in dust, smoking a cheap cigar and laughing.
* Elliott Gerald Gish.*** Which will make me a Gee, an El, an Ish, and an EGG.
** My choices at the moment are: stay in St. John's for a(n extra) year (pros: more time with friends and Older Sister; cons: more time in Newfoundland), go to Halifax for a year (pros: get to live in city of my heart; cons: would likely have to live there with parents), hop a plane overseas to England and live with one of my aunts for a year (pros: starting over somewhere where no one knows me; cons: starting over somewhere where no one knows me).
*** I am not going to keep my surname because I don't like my father's side of the family. I could take my mother's maiden name, but "Elliott Gerald Mawdsley" sounds kind of dorky. I wish I could say that I have some deep, symbolic reason for picking it, but honestly, I just like the way it sounds. It is a German name, which is relevant for me because the only non-Irish bits of me come from a German ancestor on my mother's side. It is also a Smashing Pumpkins album, the last name of one of the leads from SLC Punk!, and a type of D&D character, but that is entirely coincidental.
the thirty day meme, day twenty seven
Jun. 21st, 2010 09:09 pmDay 01 → Your favorite song
Day 02 → Your favorite movie
Day 03 → Your favorite television programme
Day 04 → Your favorite book
Day 05 → Your favorite quote
Day 06 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 → A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 → A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 → A photo you took
Day 10 → A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 → A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 → A fictional book
Day 14 → A non-fictional book
Day 15 → A fanfic
Day 16 → A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
Day 17 → An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 18 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 19 → A talent of yours
Day 20 → A hobby of yours
Day 21 → A recipe
Day 22 → A website
Day 23 → A YouTube video
Day 24 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 25 → Your day, in great detail
Day 26 → Your week, in great detail
Day 27 → This month, in great detail
Day 28 → This year, in great detail
Day 29 → Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 → Whatever tickles your fancy
You know, I don't remember much of this past month or so. I know I've been working. I know I've been going places and doing things. I know I dyed my hair blue again. I know my sister moved to Newfoundland with her boyfriend. I know I read some books and some of them were good. I rode the bus a lot. I learned how to make honey cake. I saw Sex and the City 2 (without having seen the show or the first movie) and was duly horrified. I got a new tattoo. I started thinking about grad school. I wrote stuff. I reread the perks of being a wallflower. I reread Boy Meets Boy. I ate cake made with expired eggs. I played Sociables. I played Scrabble. I played at being a grownup and then ruined it all by sticking safety pins in my ears in a fit of nostalgia.
That's all, really.
Oh! And I introduced Little Brother to the Tim Gunn version of "Closer."
He appreciated it.
Day 02 → Your favorite movie
Day 03 → Your favorite television programme
Day 04 → Your favorite book
Day 05 → Your favorite quote
Day 06 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 → A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 → A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 → A photo you took
Day 10 → A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 → A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 → A fictional book
Day 14 → A non-fictional book
Day 15 → A fanfic
Day 16 → A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
Day 17 → An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 18 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 19 → A talent of yours
Day 20 → A hobby of yours
Day 21 → A recipe
Day 22 → A website
Day 23 → A YouTube video
Day 24 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 25 → Your day, in great detail
Day 26 → Your week, in great detail
Day 27 → This month, in great detail
Day 28 → This year, in great detail
Day 29 → Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 → Whatever tickles your fancy
You know, I don't remember much of this past month or so. I know I've been working. I know I've been going places and doing things. I know I dyed my hair blue again. I know my sister moved to Newfoundland with her boyfriend. I know I read some books and some of them were good. I rode the bus a lot. I learned how to make honey cake. I saw Sex and the City 2 (without having seen the show or the first movie) and was duly horrified. I got a new tattoo. I started thinking about grad school. I wrote stuff. I reread the perks of being a wallflower. I reread Boy Meets Boy. I ate cake made with expired eggs. I played Sociables. I played Scrabble. I played at being a grownup and then ruined it all by sticking safety pins in my ears in a fit of nostalgia.
That's all, really.
Oh! And I introduced Little Brother to the Tim Gunn version of "Closer."
He appreciated it.
This morning, while rummaging through a bunch of old CDs in search of a song whose title I'd forgotten, I found a disc full of pictures. Specifically, pictures of a trip to Montreal, Ottawa, and Quebec City that my class took in ninth grade.
( You can guess where this is going, right? )
( You can guess where this is going, right? )
the thirty day meme, day eleven
Jun. 5th, 2010 02:29 pmDay 01 → Your favorite song
Day 02 → Your favorite movie
Day 03 → Your favorite television programme
Day 04 → Your favorite book
Day 05 → Your favorite quote
Day 06 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 → A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 → A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 → A photo you took
Day 10 → A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 → A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 → A fictional book
Day 14 → A non-fictional book
Day 15 → A fanfic
Day 16 → A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
Day 17 → An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 18 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 19 → A talent of yours
Day 20 → A hobby of yours
Day 21 → A recipe
Day 22 → A website
Day 23 → A YouTube video
Day 24 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 25 → Your day, in great detail
Day 26 → Your week, in great detail
Day 27 → This month, in great detail
Day 28 → This year, in great detail
Day 29 → Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 → Whatever tickles your fancy
This was taken this morning. My hair was cut and dyed the other day (it is blue, not black, although it's kind of hard to tell here). I am still not sure if I like it or not.
(P.S.: I have new icons! They are Skins themed and keyworded with song lyrics, because I am the gayest.)
Day 02 → Your favorite movie
Day 03 → Your favorite television programme
Day 04 → Your favorite book
Day 05 → Your favorite quote
Day 06 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 07 → A photo that makes you happy
Day 08 → A photo that makes you angry/sad
Day 09 → A photo you took
Day 10 → A photo of you taken over ten years ago
Day 11 → A photo of you taken recently
Day 12 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 13 → A fictional book
Day 14 → A non-fictional book
Day 15 → A fanfic
Day 16 → A song that makes you cry (or nearly)
Day 17 → An art piece (painting, drawing, sculpture, etc.)
Day 18 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 19 → A talent of yours
Day 20 → A hobby of yours
Day 21 → A recipe
Day 22 → A website
Day 23 → A YouTube video
Day 24 → Whatever tickles your fancy
Day 25 → Your day, in great detail
Day 26 → Your week, in great detail
Day 27 → This month, in great detail
Day 28 → This year, in great detail
Day 29 → Hopes, dreams and plans for the next 365 days
Day 30 → Whatever tickles your fancy
This was taken this morning. My hair was cut and dyed the other day (it is blue, not black, although it's kind of hard to tell here). I am still not sure if I like it or not.
(P.S.: I have new icons! They are Skins themed and keyworded with song lyrics, because I am the gayest.)
hallowe'en is every day
Nov. 1st, 2009 08:36 pmThis 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/
... 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/
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?
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?
truly free and fragile as young leaves
Aug. 19th, 2009 08:47 pmSongs 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.
(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.
Five items of grave importance.
Aug. 9th, 2009 03:39 pm1) ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
redheaded_itch is here! She is currently on a beach taking pictures of ~nature. I am currently inside sitting at my kitchen table because I am a fascist who hates the beach.
2) I got a haircut on Friday. ( It's pretty fab. )
3) Does anyone else on the flist read Tiger Beatdown? Because if you don't you definitely should. It is both hilarious and insightful and, dammit, there aren't enough funny feminist blogs out there. One of my favourite posts: Shut Up, Cunt! The Cultural Logic Of 97th-Wave Feminist Band Millionaires.
4) "What A Catch, Donnie" made me tear up hardcore. ;_______; GET ON THE LIFEBOAT PETER WENTZ YOU ARE NOT EDWARD J. SMITH.
5) I just tried to eat a mini Reese's cup without taking the tinfoil off. Legally I am considered a responsible adult and that scares me more than I can ever say.
redheaded_itch is here! She is currently on a beach taking pictures of ~nature. I am currently inside sitting at my kitchen table because I am a fascist who hates the beach.2) I got a haircut on Friday. ( It's pretty fab. )
3) Does anyone else on the flist read Tiger Beatdown? Because if you don't you definitely should. It is both hilarious and insightful and, dammit, there aren't enough funny feminist blogs out there. One of my favourite posts: Shut Up, Cunt! The Cultural Logic Of 97th-Wave Feminist Band Millionaires.
4) "What A Catch, Donnie" made me tear up hardcore. ;_______; GET ON THE LIFEBOAT PETER WENTZ YOU ARE NOT EDWARD J. SMITH.
5) I just tried to eat a mini Reese's cup without taking the tinfoil off. Legally I am considered a responsible adult and that scares me more than I can ever say.