sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Sometimes I want to be someone I'm deeply and irrevocably not.

Popular. Non-geeky. Made-up and shaven. Normal. Monoamorous, vanilla and *straight*.

Why? Damned if I know. Maybe it's easier. Maybe it's just human curiosity. Or maybe, deep inside me, I carry a little bit of this residual shame that's leaked into me from years and years and *years* of American pop-culture conditioning.

My entire life has raised me to believe that:
Being unpopular is something to be ashamed of.
Being geeky is something to be ashamed of.
Not wearing make up is something to be ashamed of.
Not shaving my legs is definitely something to be ashamed of.
Being weird is something to be ashamed of.
Loving multiple people is something to be ashamed of.
Liking to be bitten or tied up is something to be ashamed of.

...Being bisexual is something that, maybe just for a month, it's okay to be proud of.

Maybe in July, when it's back to being straightfolk appreciation year, I can return to being ashamed of the fact that I like to kiss girls. Right now though? The president --the very government of this fucking country, WHATEVER that means-- has given me permission to be proud of who I am.

Did I need that permission? No, of course not. The first word of this post is "sometimes", after all, not always.

But the next time that little bit of insecurity in the back of my mind, that makes me worry about what people will think, what people will say, what people will do if I dare allude to my bisexual nature? That secret shame, that makes me pick my battles, let me shut up in high school (and yes, even college) when I heard my identity used as a slur? That tiny bastard of doubt, that keeps me from being able to fully accept who I am.

I can tell it to shut the fuck up. The world is changing. Ten years from now, I will still have that residual shame from all my deviances.

And sometimes, I will wish that I was

Popular
Non-geeky
Made up and shaven
Normal
Vanilla
Monoamorous

...and just as bisexual as I've always been.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Weapons that are currently in my room, either due to having just come home with me, or by nature of just sortof being in here:

Nerf Crossbow with three bolts
Plastic sword that lights up and makes CLANG noises. (Free from the thrift store. Don't ask)
Plastic pirate cutlass (From Day Camp)
Professional style marshmallow gun (Salvaged from the store)
Homemade, and better working, marshmallow gun
Silver cap pistol (What a wonder is a gun)
Super Soaker Max-D 5000
Tiny!Cleaver (Actually theoretically sharpenable)
Straight Razor (same deal)
Big heavy iron sword
Ostentatious pen with a huge orange feather attached.

Aren't I supposed to be a pacifist?

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: A character from a comic about the maintenance workers of the universe, holding a thumbs up and saying "MOOP!" (Zonker-MOOP!)
This entry is definitely just to spite @tekym, (Known also as [livejournal.com profile] macaroniandtuna) who was complaining about my not posting here as often.

Of course, that being said, I don't actually have that much to say right now. I find myself broken in that, unlike most people1 on ADHD meds, who complain about them killing their creativity, when I've taken my Concerta, I'm actually significantly better able to get writing and the whatnot done.

So, since this can't possibly be writing, it must be babbling. YAY BABBLING!

***

My Facebook, which I actually hate, has now been organized a bit better. It has this "groups" thing, which would be a terrible idea, except now I don't have to sift through eighty pounds of crap to find the three posts by people I actually like and am quite good friends with. I am okay with this. Soyeah. New Facebook = alright by Sor.

***

I have been meeting new people with an alarming regularity this past few months, all of whom seem quite happy to chat with me either via IM or e-mails.

(As just an aside, *man* do I love having real conversations via e-mail. I don't know how to file them, or where to put them, or anything useful like that, but conversation! It's *all* kinds of brilliant. Oh, and fair warning, I'm rubbish at responding. Ask Tho or Har or The Katters if you need confirmation.)

Foster and Jesse I picked up at NEFFA. (Well, Jesse at NEFFA and at contra the next week.) Alex I snagged from SCD. And just last night, I managed to charm my way into the e-mail of a boy I met via Omegle --we've been chatting all day. It's really quite astonishingly boggling.

***

I love the computer age. AKS and Frosh and I are busy hanging out --which is to say AKS is in the rolly chair in the playroom, Frosh is on the couch, and I'm on the floor between them. All three of us on our laptops.

We're dorks. It's chill.

***

OH! I know my good news of the day: I totally have a job still. Bossman2 said he'd get me on the calendar for next week. I love my boss so much.

***

All for now.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: I actually have no idea how much of the population who is on ADHD meds complains about this. My sister certainly did. Please do not get into a boring flame war in my comments.

2: Different from Sexy Boss Man. And very different from Pillowlips.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Today is Wednesday.

Tonight is Wednesday night. My nefarious plans for tonight involve visiting [livejournal.com profile] jere7my and getting one last round of bad movies in before I go home for the summer.

Tomorrow is Thursday. I will spend the day doing things, at least one of which I hope to be studying for my Italian final. I will spend the night doing contra over at the Concord Scout House --come say goodbye!

The day after that is Friday. I have a final from ten to noon, and then will hopefully spend much of the rest of the day packing.

Saturday, no finals, more packing. Saturday afternoon and evening I am going over to the Belmhouse to babysit and hang out. Eventually I will detangle from there, go back on campus, and collect all members of the Lesley University Chaos Club who want to go see Rocky Horror.

Get home at late o clock, go sleep somewhere. Sunday morning, collect people to go get "breakfast" (ideally at noon or one) at Mr. Crepes. Steal Ria and/or Maddie on secret missions that I may or may not have alluded to last post.

After secret mission, study for maths. Pack more.

Monday, take maths final. Pack. Pack a lot. Pack like an *absolutely* crazy person, and as stressedly as I can possibly manage. Hopefully finish packing before it's time for dance.

Monday night, go dancing at Springstep for the last time for four months. Try not to think about it too hard, as it might make me cry. Dance with dance-Andrea, since I promised her a dance, dance with...other people. Get in a Last Waltz1 with Magus that'll have to last me most of a summer. Hopefully stop being such a gloomcookie all the time.

Tuesday morning, go to my Teacherfinal, which consists of "showing up". (Or, you know, have flu like symptoms and stay home in order to better achieve the rest of the day.) Say goodbye to Evan, and school-Andrea and Erin and whoever else is around. Go back to Dock 18, say goodbye to the roomies. Cry, because, well, it's *me*.

Give mom a hug and toss things into Catbus2. Stop by Belmhouse, thank them roughly a million times for letting me leave things there over the summer. Drive to Maryland.

Arrive in Maryland. Give Nik a noogie and Alys a hug. Curl up in my own bed, in my own room, with a door that closes. Try very very hard not to think about how long four months is, really.

Wednesday.

Visit Veronica. See if I still have a job. Be back in Maryland.

Sigh.

((And I mean there's good in there -Balticon, Tho, Origins, Day Camp, visiting Kat, Otakon, Oella --not to mention all the Maryland people I love and adore. But seriously. Sigh.))

~Sor
MOOP!

1: There's symbolism to the Last Waltz, youknow? No, not always or anything, but your traditional Last Waltz, you do it with your sweetie (well, one of them. We're ignoring the polydrama for the purposes of this). Out of all of dancing, that's the one that really matters --a good partner, and the world becomes Just Right.

I wonder who my final waltz was with at NEFFA last year. I know for this year, and while I had a last waltz at Dance Flurry, the role of the Last Waltz was filled by the Penultimate Waltz.

Andumyeah. Stuff. LOOK A DISTRACTION, BYE!

2: Mom's van. Galileo was the old one, and we haven't changed plates, but the minivan I do most of my driving in is called Catbus.
sorcyress: xkcd panel with a single character alone at the computer and the text "Some nights, typing *hug* just doesn't cut it." (xkcd hug)
DEAR EVERYONE:

Take a deep breath.
Smile. Go to a mirror, and force your face into a hideous looking grin. Try again and again, until you get a genuine smile or until you just break down laughing at how ridiculous you look.
Take another deep breath.
Close your eyes for a minute or so, and just let your mind clear, and all those little tiny muscles that you've been tensing all day relax.
Take another deep breath.
Remember that you are in fact a good and worthwhile person (I know, because I said so, and I never lie) and that while life is difficult right now, this too shall pass, and the world *will* be better tomorrow.
Take a deep breath.

And if all that doesn't work, eat a cookie.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
I...just don't even know what to say.

Beyond "I had really better get some coloured gels and some goggle frames and use all these damn lenses"

But yeah.


Three pairs of glasses broken in less than three hundred sixty five days.

Thank god I still have my sunglasses. Thank god I'll be back in Maryland in a week. But seriously, fates? This is *not fucking funny* anymore.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
I'd say "Where on Earth have all my words gone?" since I've apparently not updated all that much this weekend, but honestly, I think it's because...well...I haven't updated all that much this weekend.

Sostuff. Friday night was the first (hopefully annual) Lesley Drag Show. I dressed up, kinda less as Eric, and more a dashing young gentleman with a fabulous moustache. Recited V's monologue, because Josh told me I couldn't take my pants off onstage (it was no pants day!) and I have no other performable talents.

I got polite applause, but being as I wasn't being fagadacious, not a whole lot else. Which is okay. The winner was this boy who looked like a girl, was using his own hair, and waxed his chest in order to squeeze into the little purple dress he was wearing. He is far more butch than I'll ever be about my femininity.

I wandered home, stripped off the ace bandages (possibly with a triumphant sigh) and flopped onto the computer for a bit. Lauren walks into the room, and hands me her phone. "It's Josh. He says you left your phone at the drag show."

This was completely true, so I dashed off to the quad to retrieve it. What was meant to be a five minute mission turned into an hours conversation with the beautiful Annika, eventually involving me following her home, where we chatted with a bunch of random people in her lounge. Little Gay Erik ran off to put in Life of Brian, and I, remembering that I hadn't bothered to put up an away message or anything, ran home to grab my computer and my towel and came back.

Curled up on the floor between Annika and Erik, I managed to stay awake through the corporate pirates. Considering that the night prior I hadn't slept in the slightest, I was not shocked to wake up at seven, still on the floor in a nest of blankets, curled up with Annika.

I removed my glasses, put my computer in a less "STEAL ME!" obvious place, and conked back out on the floor for another few hours. We got up around eleven, got breakfast, chatted, and eventually went our separate ways...

(To be continued.)

~Sor
MOOP!

And in the meantime, pictures! )
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Boston Sorcy)
I have too much stuff.

I say this all the damn time, but there's definitely a regular period in my life where I say it louder and more empathically than others. That time is whenever I have to pack, *especially* when I have to pack for an entire summer. I'm leaving Dock 18 (and Camberville itself) on May twelfth, I really ought to have my things sorted out and packed up before then.

I really really *really* want a permanent address. Toss everything into a uhaul or a minivan, drag it from the dorms to an apartment, and then have a place with real furniture, that I pick out (or scavange or whatever) and real bookshelves, and that I don't have to dissassemble eight months later.

The bookshelves are really the big ones. Milk Crate Shelving is incredibly cheap and quite simple to rearrange as necessary, but to have real shelves, to have a real *place* where I can put up shelves...oh man, do I want it.

I really ought to work on getting rid of things. Sigh, I've *never* been good at getting rid of things, I grow attached. Especially books, but really...everything. And yes, I do believe it's about time I started making proper packing lists of everything I own, and what I plan to do with it.

Expect this journal to be more rambly, hopefully more photobased, and more scattered than usual. I've got to put my life into tiny boxes for a while.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
So, for teacherclass, we just watched "A Private Universe" which is basically being all "Oh hey, people don't know simple scientific facts like why there are seasons".

This led me to wonder about what other basic knowledge there is that people don't necessarily have. Certainly, it ties in with my basic pop culture thing --while I myself am *woefully* uneducated, there are still things that I will find jawdroppingly shocking if you admit you're not familiar with them. (Like what do you mean someone born, in America, fifteen years after it came out has never read Where the Wild Things Are. HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN!?)

I try very hard to not have any resounding pop culture biases, but I recognize that there is a list in the back of my mind of things I expect people in my circles to be familiar with. If not Flying Circus, every geek ever should probably have seen Holy Grail --even if you hate it, you now get roughly 1200% more references.

Or more importantly, The Princess Bride. I mean, I know I'm biased, what having acted in it, but how do you survive as a geek in this country without having seen The Princess Bride? Hell, while it's an amazing read, I don't even demand you read it, just...not having seen it? Dear lords.

Those are all part of the geek set, and I just more or less expect people to know them. Hell, I quoted "Why are you smiling" "Because I know something you do not know --I am not left handed!" last night, and will probably quote something else in the next twenty four hours, just because that's how I roll.

Additionally, I have a personal set of things that I think everyone ought to experience. I don't necessarily expect my friends to have seen Dr. Horrible or The Middleman, but dear lord, admit those gaps in your experience and I will do the best I can to help you fill them. Or holy hell lords, The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. I don't demand anything past the first book, but seriously, if you *haven't* read at least that one? I...I'm afraid I can never look at you in the same way again.1

((Of course, I lose out on several people's personal sets for not ever being able to get through the second Lord of the Rings book. I'm sorry, I just...can't. I wish I could, but it's really not happening.))

SOYES! What are the overarching things that all geeks need to experience? What are the personal things, that you believe all people in your friends group need to experience?

Oh and bytheway? Before you leave a comment? Take twelve minutes out of your life in order to watch How To Kill A Mockingbird. Yes, yes it is worth it. It is basically what "To Kill a Mockingbird" would have been if Harper Lee had been aware of tvtropes.org's "Rule of Awesome"

~Sor
MOOP!

1: This is totally why Chris and I wouldn't have ever worked out in the long run. He dating KT for a couple years just saved us the inevitable argument and subsequent heartbreak.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
I know what I need right now, need more than just about anything else (much as I hate to "need" anything) and I equally know that circumstance makes it utterly impossible to achieve. I could get shadows, were I so inclined, but I don't especially think they'd help.

I honestly think I'd settle for anything, just one tiny fucking thing to go right today. Be able to flirt with that one girl without it hurting, not have the weather be terrible today, stop having mental spasms of unreasonably stalkerbased NRE, have my partner for my Italian project actually let me know ahead of time we have to push back our meeting, be able to get honestly into conversations, and not just roleplaying pretend...

...be able to donate blood. Or hell, I'd settle for not crying like an idiot because I couldn't. It happens like this every damn time I can't donate, which seems to be happening a shitload more often than it used to. I must've gotten more iron in high school --shocking, I know, considering how little meat I actually get around to eating. It doesn't *matter* how strong, how stable, how pragmatic and practical I feel going in. They tell me I can't donate, I sigh and wave goodbye and leave, and as soon as I can get myself tucked away where no one can find me, I take a moment to sob.

I hate failing, and I especially hate failing people. The double whammy of those hypothetical three persons my pint of blood could have saved paired with the slap across my face reminder that I'm not actually doing a good job of taking care of my body just breaks me down, every single fucking time. It's been more than a year since I've been able to give --whatever happened to me giving since mom can't? Third layer of failure, I *am* a spectacular daughter.

I'm gonna go crawl into a hole or something now. Talk to you lot later.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Sososo!

Two years ago todayish, it was 2007 and I finally posted my prom report! Yay dancing at prom. <3

One year ago tomorrowish it was 2008, and I was in the midst of going to NEFFA

Today it is 2009, and I am, again, going to NEFFA. No Thursday night contra for me this time, and it looks like no lots of people I really quite like, but regardless, FUCKIN' NEFFA, MATES!

I am pretty excited for this. And, for whatever reason (no, I'm not sure either) I've decided to experiment, and *not* bring Vera. Radio silence for the wins or something.

Soyeah. See you kids Sunday, when I will have no more legs.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
One year ago today, it was 2008, and I was reflecting on the strange things my mind did to me the night before.

As a part of looking this up, and went and reread the BtW entry from that night. Remember when I was talking about Letters I'll Never Send? The entry in question was more or less an extraordinarily long, state-of-the-relationship address, one of those. It eventually digressed a bit, to be more universal and less specific.

Because I'm probably an idiot, I'd like to share some of that with you lot. )

No. Seriously. I am young and stupid and kinda a total waste of time. You really *don't* have to keep pretending to like me, it's okay.

And yes, my self-defense mechanism is unbelievable egotism, why do you ask? Mom was what first pointed out that that was, in fact, a mechanism to me --no one who has that "I AM DAMN GOOD!" attitude is actually that cocksure. Except for Zaphod, of course, which is why I make a point of differentiating between when I feel Zaphodic and when I merely feel egotistical.

And yeah, that's all. I'm feeling just fine at the moment --[livejournal.com profile] tirerim and I are gonna go take advantage of Ben and Jerry's free ice cream day thing in a couple minutes. I just found the honesty to be something that should be shared. Yeah. *shrugs*

Take care, you lot.

~Sor
MOOP!

(P.S: Magus and I have been watching Being Human. It's a bit wonderful, yes.
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
I don't want to live my life
On one side of an ampersand1
Even if I went with you
I'm not the girl you think I am
And I don't want to match you
'Cause I'll lose my voice completely

(Ampersand, Amanda Palmer. There's a little bit more to the chorus, but it's not important to the way I interpret the lyrics. Me, interpreting things, it's enough to make a cat laugh.)

To me, ever since the first time I really Heard the lyrics, actually Listened to them, instead of just letting the music wash over me as I am so wont to do, I realized that Amanda was talking about something that terrifies me. On one side of an ampersand? She (I) doesn't want to be part of a pair, oh look, there is AmandaandBrian, KatandAnyone. No. Just please, no.

And my fear terrifies me.

I've been alluding to this, bits and pieces and slipped words. A sentence here and there, nothing anyone would notice, not without being able to see the big picture. And the brilliant part of talking to you and you and you is that no one besides me ever gets to see the big picture.

Call it want of freedom, call it my own asexuality (which was never asexual somuch as aromantic, I realise) call it fear of intimacy, call it all or none of the above, it's still there. I'm beginning to get to an age where I can get into relationships that last forever, last the rest of my life, last until marriage and beyond, and dear gods.

Dear gods, I'm petrified.

This...These feelings, the way I love people now means I don't want to lose them. I've been able to enter every relationship safe in the knowledge that it was going to end. High school relationships don't last, silly, people are too different. Hell, the fact that Blue and I made it almost a full year is inherently boggling, a year long relationship? At fifteen, sixteen? We were freaks.

I don't have that safety anymore. I can't rest easy in the knowledge that it will, eventually, end.

Oh, of course it still will. I don't fool myself, my prediliction for older men2 means I tend very towards people who're at enough of a different place from me that eventually we will fragment, and that's okay. I'm alright with losing love (though I never want to lose friendship). But sometimes...I fool myself. Or my mind fools itself. And I realize that I don't want it to end, not ever.

And ye gods, with that realization...I want to run.

I want to run and run and run and hide and be all by myself for a long long while and that's terrible. It's escapism of the worst sort, it's shutting myself off because I just can't accept the idea that maybe it's okay to have someone else there to support you. Because maybe I don't have to go through all of life alone. Because maybe I'm not the only one who can take care of me.

Because maybe being independent is lonely, and maybe being as truly free as I feel I want involves building walls so thick and high that I'll never be able to see the world through them. And I do like the world.

Growing up is scary, but why does it seem so much safer if I could just manage to do it alone.

I...I guess all I'm trying to say is that my therapist was right (damn her) and I think I'm scared of intimacy. I already knew I was scared of opening up, for reasons I've never been able to grasp. I'm scared of perfection for reasons half rational (as hard as I try to achieve it). I never realized that I was scared of safety.

If I flirt with everyone, smile and flounce, keep myself from never falling in love, then no one can ever care about me, and I'll never care about them. All hearts will be safe, unbroken. If I need to bury my face in a shoulder, I just have to turn to the nearest Toy, held fast in walls spun of quick-witted bullshit, rapidfire excuses for the tears on my face, my Need for arms around me.

And I'm sure that would work much better if I never slipped. Heels are pretty, sure, but I still trip, and tumble heart over head into love. And being in love means I have to care, have to be intimate, have to actually let myself open and be honest --I'm terrible at being honest, not in a way that causes me to lie, but in the actual speach, actually getting myself to the point where I can say the words that I need to sometimes. I'm getting better --I've been getting better for most of the last year, learning how to say I need help, say what's going through my mind.

I think I've been falling in Love. Not just loving people, I'm good at that, used to that. Ever since I first managed to tell Veronica that I loved her (not in any weird way, just as a friend, do you understand?) so very long ago (when such words were not to be spoken) not a day has gone by where the phrase hasn't passed my lips. But being in love? That's a lot harder. A *lot* harder, and it keeps happening, once, twice, thr...

I don't know what I'm going to do about this. At the very least, oh, does it feel good to write. I half whispered earlier, tears carefully hid from my eyes "I don't have a home" but I *do*, I so very do. My home has always been my words, given a blank page and a nudge in the right direction, I can weave myself a safety so strong I can almost feel the phantom arms protecting me.

I suppose what I'm going to do is let myself be open. Force myself from running. Maybe sometime I'll find myself on one side of that ampersand, and maybe I won't mind it so much.

I think it's time to face fears. To figure out why they are, and let myself defeat them. Let myself be serious, for once in my life, because for once in my life, I have found something worth being serious about.

Let myself fall in love. One, two, not quite three times, and see what it's like not being totally alone. Contemplate marriage, a mortgage, and a wall that does not encompass me alone.

We'll see.

&Sor
MOOP!

1: Though, to paraphrase Magus, it would not be terrible to live life on one side of an incubus/succubus. [/obscure Nethack joke]
2: And my beautiful younger woman exception is a whole different sort of case, and one I don't wish to discuss here.
sorcyress: A character from a comic about the maintenance workers of the universe, holding a thumbs up and saying "MOOP!" (Zonker-MOOP!)
So, today's adventure.

I meet up with some of the Lesleyans, and we go to Havahd Square to meet up with Ria's girlfriend. Then the five of us (Me, Ria, Kiwi, Lauren, and Emily) slink on down to Newbury Comics for Record Store Day.

See, we had heard this delicious rumour that certain beautiful people were going to be there today. Also, goodies and free stuff, which are things that Kat likes lots and lots.

So we get to the store, and it's really a bit of a madhouse. We slack around and buy assorted cool things (Lauren and Emily got movies, I got two World/Inferno Friendship Society albums1) until the Good Stuff starts happening.

Good stuff goes under a cut, because it's a bit photo heavy. )

Soyeah. Some more excellent pictures are over in my Flickr, if you are so inclined to go look.

It was a loverly day.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: 'Addicted to Bad Ideas' and 'Red-Eyed Soul'. Glee!!

ETA: Other lewt gathered during the day includes a slightly battered copy of the first Girl Genius book from Million Year Picnic (The covers kinda dicked up, which is sad, but meant it was thirty percent off, which was enough to make me buy it), and three free CD's from Newbury--random mixes of random stuff.

Also, it's fun to decide whether or not to buy something based on rolling a will save with a d20. *grins!*
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
~1400 hours:
Brain: Hey, Kat! Aren't you supposed to register for classes or something today?
Me: OH FUCK ME! FUCK ME WITH A RAKE!!
Brain: *laughs an evil laugh as I start scrambling around to do that*

~1445 hours:
Me: *arrives at advisors office with a guilty smile and a list of classes she might want to take*
Advisor: *is an angel*
Me: *hits register*
LOIS1: Haha! Not for you bitch, you've got an immunization hold! Go talk to health services!

~1500 hours:
Me: Uh, hi Miss Health Services receptionist. I can't register for classes. Fix?
Receptionist: We have no record of you recieving your Menningitis shot. But if you sign this waiver saying you don't want it, you don't have to get one and we can lift the hold.
Me: Sounds good to me! *begins reading*
Me: Hey...uhm...there's not a chance you guys can shoot me, is there?
Doctor: Sure! Get your butt in here!
Me: Oh! Uhm. Efficiant!
Doctor: *shot*
Receptionist: *e-mails guy to remove hold so I can register*
Me: Ow, deadarm
World: *smiles and sunshine!*

~1530 hours:
Me: *arrives in my room and logs on to LOIS again*
Me: *hits register!*
LOIS: HAHA, BITCH! NO REGISTRATION FOR YOU!
LOIS: 'Cause, you know, you still have that immunization hold.
Me: What?! What, no I don't! I got the shot! My arm hurts! The receptionist e-mailed the guy! Damnitdamnitdamnit!

~1600 hours:
Me: *arrives at the place where the guy is. Finds his office*
Me: Uhm. Can...I register? Please?
Guy: Oh. Sure, why not.
Guy: *lifts hold*
Angelic chorus: *sings*
Me: Thankyousomuch, *runs back to room*

~1610 hours:
Me: *eyes LOIS nervously*
Me: *hits register*
LOIS: Okay!
Me: ...
Me: HALLAFUCKINGLUGHIA!

And that's what my day has been like. I got a shot!

~Sor
MOOP!

ETA 1: LOIS! LOIS is the magical Lesley computer classes and registration and other administrata system. I would know more about it if, during the lecture where they explained it all at orientation, I hadn't been busy drawing a picture of a teenaged Samuel Byck and a baby pterodactyl
sorcyress: Picture of a smiling tampon with the phrase "Girls: We're so emo we don't even NEED to cut ourselves" (Emo-period)
....the Gabeity Gabe being not *my* Gabriel, but that other one. There you go.

List ten fictional characters you would have sex with (in no particular order) and tag 5 people to do the same.

Cut for people who don't care to hear about my fictional sex life )

Unrelatedly, lyrics of the week:

I said whay-hey-hey
It's just an ordinary day
And it's all your state of mind
At the end of the day
You've just got to say
It's alright


-Ordinary Day, Great Big Sea.

The whole song, really, is amazing, and kinda sounds as though it was written for me. Hell, I mean, it even has the line "But there's always tomorrow" which is about as close to my motto of 'Tomorrow Will Be Better' as you can get. Great Big Sea for the wins --I've gotten to the point where I at least let them start playing when I'm doing the music-on-shuffle thing on iTunes (a lot of everything I just skip without listening, if I don't recognize it.)

Semi-unrelatedly, could you concievably do some form of SCD to Mari-Mac? I don't think it's long enough...I really ought to go listen to it again and try to count beats or something.

I need to go accomplish things now. Ta!

~Sor
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Be Happy Elephant)
So, remember when I did that long rambly posts about nests?

My nest really is nothing more complicated than Vera. Everything else is pure gravy --I just have to find a bit of ground to sit on, and, if possible, a place to lean against.

Which is why I'm typing this approximately ten feet from MassAve. *fg* Have I mentioned that I love love love that Porter Exchange is covered by the Lesley wireless system?

'sall for now. Went on a wicked awesome walk today.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Allemande)
So, last nights was large amounts of excellence, which is good. Especially because, after dancing, I wound up watching the 2007 Christmas Special with Magus.

Doctor Who spoilers. I mean, granted, they're like four months old at this point, but there are possibly still some of you who haven't seen the Christmas Special yet or something. )

[/fangirl]

***

As for other stuff..uhm...dancing! Dancing good. Dancing quite good, and I'm currently starting to hover on that edge between beginner and not.

Also, borking up the easiest dance2 on the program is...annoying. (Seriously, 1Lady turns and does skip change of step down the ladies side of the dance, 1Man follows, past third couple, 1L dances up outside the mens side of the dance, 1M dances up the middle, they end in their partner's position, set, repeat with 1L chasing 1M. Then some other stuff, like dancing down and up the line, and pousseting (which I hate), but still. Not hard.)

It's just frigging skipping. In a line. How does one dick it up, you might ask? I don't even *begin* to know. But I did. And then I decided that I needed to go pound my head against a wall, and probably would have if I hadn't gone off to be confused by the I&A dance. Which, once I actually figured out what was going on, I was not heinous at.

On the plus side of everything, we ended with 'Australian Ladies'3 which may, in fact, be the greatest dance known to mankind. Seriously, it's deceptively easy, once you get the hang of it, and looks *awesome*. And, if done right, you should be panting by the end of it, which is honestly kinda a plus for me (I *like* quick dances.)

We didn't do any dances that included an allemande last night, though6. Well, one really can't have everything, now can they?

After proper dancing comes waltzing, which is loverly, and I got to practise my cross-step waltz, which is overly flowey and beautiful. After the music ended, Magus taught me how to do a redowa4 waltz which is entirely too bouncy and a little bit tricky. Clearly I shall have to practise it or something. (Change step change, change step change, change step hop, fall over, swear, GOTO 105)

***

....Dear lord, I am a dork. Although, as dorkiness goes, I think that being a vintage dance dork is one of the cooler variations.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Tenney = David Tennant as the tenth doctor. I'm not entirely sure why I use this nickname quite as often as I do, but it works. Another good nickname is 'teninch' which not so many people get.

2: 'Flowers of Edinburgh', for my own reference.

3: For my own reference:

THE AUSTRALIAN LADIES (R8x32)
1- 8: 1s cross, cast down to 3rd place & 3s+1s dance RH across.
9-16: 1s lead up to top, cross, cast to 2nd place & 2s+1s dance LHacross.
17-24: 2s & 3s set & cross RH as 1s cross RH & cast to right, 2s+3sset on sides & change places RH as 1s cross up/down centre& cast to right.
25-32: 3s & 2s set & cross RH as 1s cross RH & cast to right, 3s+2sset on sides & change places RH as 1s cross in centre & cast to places

(You can tell I found that on the interwobs somewhere because it's actually in proper dance terminology. For the layman, bars 17-32 basically consist of the 1s crossing by right hands and casting to the right four times, essentially just following a cloverleaf path, and the 2s and 3s setting and crossing by right hands with their partner, their fellow, their partner again, and their fellow again. (So 2L and 2M, 3L and 3M then 2L and 3L, 2M and 3M. Repeat once.))

4: It's actually somewhat embaressing how long it took me to figure out how to correctly spell that. Apparently typing 'styles of waltz vintage' into google will make it appear if you look hard enough, but this is secretly one of those word that any approximation of the spelling will not be close enough for google to correctly identify.

5: Yes, I realize that there's not actually a 10 to go to. It sounded better than 'start over'

6: ETA: Keira: Better?
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Allemande)
A/N: This started as a bit of emo prosetry, and turned into a brief conversation between Gabriel and myself. Enjoy, or something.

***

I wish I could just stop wrapping myself in bullshit and just say what I need to to people.

I wish I could open up.

I wish I could cry on your shoulder. I think I need it.

I wish I could hug you right now. I wish you could hug me. I wish I could tell you how badly I need a hug.

I wish I wasn't crying

I wish I didn't feel I had to hide my tears

I wish you weren't distracted by your own shit

I wish I didn't feel so selfish as to say that

I wish I could let myself feel negative emotions

I wish you hadn't pretty much exited my life

I wish things were still like they were at the start

I wish you hadn't ruined me

I wish I didn't see myself somuch as a failure

I wish that it was you I was talking to and not him

I wish I could trust people with my Self

I wish I weren't so fucking insecure, all the fucking time

I wish I could make you understand all of it

I wish I could understand all of it

I wish I could be jealous of her

I wish I wouldn't be jealous of her.

Or her.

(Though as always, I wish she was closer)

And I wish *she* were closer too

I wish I could love myself

Hell, I'll settle for wishing I could see myself as you lot claim to see me.

(I wish I could believe it when you tell me I'm a good person. Or you, or you, or you...)

"I wish I could post this" she said, knowing full well that, as anonymous as it is, she almost immediately was. "Fine." she revised. "I wish I could post this and not have to subsequently deal with mom telling me that all manner of people asked her if I'm alright, ohnoes."

She blinked. "Sometimes I wish I weren't such a terminal optimist. Life is more serious then that, y'know? There's war and death and genocide and hatred and tears and emotion and sadness."

The pseudoangel looked up from his book --Sandman, volume two-- and sighed. "Yes Deus, and there's also butterflies and dinosaurs and backhoes and MST3K and pringles and Shakespeare and legos and short skirts and thrift stores and gaming."

"I really wish you wouldn't call me that." She walked over and sat on the arm of his chair.

"Tell you what. I'll stop calling you Deus, and you stop bottling up who you are." She glared at him, and he smirked. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah." a pause. "Feeling better."

~Sor, BtW
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Boston Sorcy)
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, GUESS WHAT!

I have a place to live next year! And it is a quad with Lauren and Emily and Maddie!

Who has won the room lottery? The LUCC1 has won the room lottery, yes we have!

Back to respectable theatre stuff, like the concept of squirrels in pants.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Lesley University Chaos Club. Essentially, Maddie, Lauren, Emily, Me, Dominik, Ria, and Mando. Or something like that. Devoted to dadaism, and only partially because that sounds like something the Marvelous Margaret Mahy would write.

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