sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
I don't seem to have ever actually written this story down before, although I tell abridged versions of it relatively often. So here, have the explanation of how I started Scottish Country Dance.

My first semester of college (fall 2007) was a pretty great time. I was making new friends, reconnecting with old ones, and spending a lot of time just wandering around and exploring the world. You don't know what freedom is until you've moved six hundred miles away from home.

One of the people I was spending a fair amount of time with was my friend MagusMarc. He and I had met about three years prior, at Origins, chatted online for a while, lost track of each other, and remet at Balticon '06. From there, we were talking regularly and became pretty good online friends. When I moved to Boston, it turned out that he lived just about a mile away from Lesley. He was my only local geeky friend, and one of my only adult friends, and in general a nice alternative for when the college kids got too immature or mainstream for me.

As it got towards Thanksgiving, my computer was starting to act up a little bit. I assumed nothing too bad was going on, and when Mr Belm picked me up (I stayed the night after Thanksgiving at his place) he offered to run some computerwizardy on Seren1 for me. The computer proved to be more a challenge than he could endure, and so I left it with him on Sunday --he let me borrow his clamshell2 so I'd have a computer for school, and agreed to take Vera off to the mac store.

On Monday, I was out and about with some college friends, when I received the phone call from Dave. Seren's hard drive had self-destructed There was no chance of getting _anything_ off it, and the drive would just have to be replaced.

I was devastated.

I had gotten the laptop at the end of August. I'd been using it exclusively for three straight months, and everything, everything, was gone. All my photos, all my bookmarks, all my college work, all my writing, and most importantly, Behind the Walls version 2.0. My diary.

Since we were in the area, I politely excused myself from Dominik and the twins. I walked to Marc's house, and knocked on the door. "Distract me?" I whimpered, recalling other times when he'd been good enough to give me comfort.

"Well, I'm going dancing soon." he replied, and that made perfect sense to me. I went along with him, to Scottish Country Dance, and had a good enough time of things (despite having the worst possible shoes). And that might have been it. Except.

On Wednesday or so, I got my computer back with a shiny new hard drive, and a surprise external drive (early Christmas gift). I named her Vera Serenfreude, based on Dan and Tho's suggestions. She is a wonderful wonderful beast, and even if she's getting old and cranky, thank god she's managed to get old.

The following weekend, I went home to Maryland. There were several goals for this visit --surprise mom, surprise Veronica, go see Rocky Horror and the LRHS play3. There was also one major thing that happened that hadn't been planned --I broke up with kSatyr, who I had been dating for about ten months at the time.

From noon Sautrday to noon Sunday I spent equal numbers of hours crying and sleeping.

I believe the actual number is something like "three"

BtW 2.1, 2December2007

So Monday I was back in town4. and I again show up at Marc's. I tell him what had happened, and I ask. "Distract me?"

From then, it was a tradition. I danced three weeks of December, went home on break, and came back and danced every week after. I kept dancing even after Marc stopped being able to make it, even after he moved away. I've dragged as many friends as I could (and Tricia and Jesse both _stayed_, at least for a little while!) and don't intend to stop. Due to Scottish, I've found two partners, gone to one con, and eaten slices from *way* too many cakes.

It's been four years now. It's one of the things I enjoy most in the world. And while I hate that the impetus had to be a tragedy, because those tragedies led me to dancing, they were absolutely worth it, every bit5.

Cheers.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: "Don't you mean Vera?" Keep reading.

2: one of these. I still want one _so bad_. Such a comfortable laptop!

3: Unfortunately the only one I made after I had graduated LRHS. I feel bad about that.

4: And my arrival back in Boston is a different strong memory --the first time my heart ever sang out that I was Home.

5: There are parts of the story that I never tell, but that you might know anyways. SCD, and everything and everyone I've gotten from it? Yeah. Yeah, they're worth that too. Every. Single. Fucking. Bit.


(Apologies to anyone who saw this twice --it didn't want to crosspost)
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
I don't seem to have ever actually written this story down before, although I tell abridged versions of it relatively often. So here, have the explanation of how I started Scottish Country Dance.

My first semester of college (fall 2007) was a pretty great time. I was making new friends, reconnecting with old ones, and spending a lot of time just wandering around and exploring the world. You don't know what freedom is until you've moved six hundred miles away from home.

One of the people I was spending a fair amount of time with was my friend MagusMarc. He and I had met about three years prior, at Origins, chatted online for a while, lost track of each other, and remet at Balticon '06. From there, we were talking regularly and became pretty good online friends. When I moved to Boston, it turned out that he lived just about a mile away from Lesley. He was my only local geeky friend, and one of my only adult friends, and in general a nice alternative for when the college kids got too immature or mainstream for me.

As it got towards Thanksgiving, my computer was starting to act up a little bit. I assumed nothing too bad was going on, and when Mr Belm picked me up (I stayed the night after Thanksgiving at his place) he offered to run some computerwizardy on Seren1 for me. The computer proved to be more a challenge than he could endure, and so I left it with him on Sunday --he let me borrow his clamshell2 so I'd have a computer for school, and agreed to take Vera off to the mac store.

On Monday, I was out and about with some college friends, when I received the phone call from Dave. Seren's hard drive had self-destructed There was no chance of getting _anything_ off it, and the drive would just have to be replaced.

I was devastated.

I had gotten the laptop at the end of August. I'd been using it exclusively for three straight months, and everything, everything, was gone. All my photos, all my bookmarks, all my college work, all my writing, and most importantly, Behind the Walls version 2.0. My diary.

Since we were in the area, I politely excused myself from Dominik and the twins. I walked to Marc's house, and knocked on the door. "Distract me?" I whimpered, recalling other times when he'd been good enough to give me comfort.

"Well, I'm going dancing soon." he replied, and that made perfect sense to me. I went along with him, to Scottish Country Dance, and had a good enough time of things (despite having the worst possible shoes). And that might have been it. Except.

On Wednesday or so, I got my computer back with a shiny new hard drive, and a surprise external drive (early Christmas gift). I named her Vera Serenfreude, based on Dan and Tho's suggestions. She is a wonderful wonderful beast, and even if she's getting old and cranky, thank god she's managed to get old.

The following weekend, I went home to Maryland. There were several goals for this visit --surprise mom, surprise Veronica, go see Rocky Horror and the LRHS play3. There was also one major thing that happened that hadn't been planned --I broke up with kSatyr, who I had been dating for about ten months at the time.

From noon Sautrday to noon Sunday I spent equal numbers of hours crying and sleeping.

I believe the actual number is something like "three"

BtW 2.1, 2December2007

So Monday I was back in town4. and I again show up at Marc's. I tell him what had happened, and I ask. "Distract me?"

From then, it was a tradition. I danced three weeks of December, went home on break, and came back and danced every week after. I kept dancing even after Marc stopped being able to make it, even after he moved away. I've dragged as many friends as I could (and Tricia and Jesse both _stayed_, at least for a little while!) and don't intend to stop. Due to Scottish, I've found two partners, gone to one con, and eaten slices from *way* too many cakes.

It's been four years now. It's one of the things I enjoy most in the world. And while I hate that the impetus had to be a tragedy, because those tragedies led me to dancing, they were absolutely worth it, every bit5.

Cheers.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: "Don't you mean Vera?" Keep reading.

2: one of these. I still want one _so bad_. Such a comfortable laptop!

3: Unfortunately the only one I made after I had graduated LRHS. I feel bad about that.

4: And my arrival back in Boston is a different strong memory --the first time my heart ever sang out that I was Home.

5: There are parts of the story that I never tell, but that you might know anyways. SCD, and everything and everyone I've gotten from it? Yeah. Yeah, they're worth that too. Every. Single. Fucking. Bit.


(Apologies to anyone who saw this twice --I had to repost due to crossposting issues)
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
So, [livejournal.com profile] badmagic has posted a thing about advice you would give to your 15-year-old-self. This is especially interesting to me, as the difference between 15!me and 16!me is...vast, it seems. Not just the change from heartbreak and an interest in sex, but in terms of anger, of introspection, of impulsive actions, of not just being asexual but antisexual.

It's the difference between being a child and being an adult.

So I started to write advice to my 15!self. This is going by memory --I have the ability to cheat, because I have this livejournal to look at for most of that year, and the BtW file for the three month gap-- and I tried very hard to restrict it to advice that would actively be useful to 15!self --it's all well and good to tell her to meet Sparr earlier and see what happens1, but not when the opportunity won't even arise for more than two years.

So. Here's what I would have to say if me from six years ago and me from now had a nice sit-down and a chat.

1) Don't worry about not being sexual, but do be gentle to those who are. You don't have to be sexual to be sex positive, and I really do think you'll feel better about things if you stop calling people you care about tramps. Let them enjoy their sins.

2) The relationship you just started will be convoluted and confusing. Do not put as much energy into it as you do. It feels like your heart is breaking, and it probably is, but I promise it gets better. You'll be friends for a while, GOOD friends, and that's important. Even after it disappears, it was important. And I promise, eventually he dumps her, and the words he say will be the sweetest revenge you can imagine.

3) Remember that guy you met at Origins last year? Heh. Everything you dreamed and more, if I didn't change the timestream too badly by telling you all of this. And if I did...pursue his friendship. Keep his friendship, and take care of him. He'll repay you in kind, and that'll be more important than sleeping with him. Sex, as you're well aware, is not everything.

4) You have ADHD. You also have a mild auditory learning disability. This isn't why you're bad at school --you're just an unmotivated dumbass like that-- but this _is_ why you have so much trouble in Ms. H's class. See if she can give you help or advice.

5) In eight or nine months, you're going to realize you're wired to love more than one person at once. It will change things so much to tell you this -dangerously much, in terms of setting you back from being an adult- but never let yourself be forced into monoamory. Ever. Ever. It will only make everyone involved miserable. You will be younger for the experience, but you also won't cry as much.

5a) You're genderqueer by the way. Start working out how to be a boy now.

5b) Figure out a safer way to not be younger for the experience.

6) You will always have Veronica. Always. Keep her as well as you possibly can. Same with Pauli. Give both of them the attention and time they deserve.

7) If you have to wait for a boy, he will eventually be worth it. Every one of them. Even and especially the one who knows there are sparks, and makes you wait, for two and a half agonizing years. Even the one you've been waiting for ever since you made a terrible decision two years from now.

8) Go ahead and fail that class. It hurts, but it means you will get the teacher who changes your life. Let him. Tell him so. And try not to be quite so obvious when you flirt, it's just embarrassing all around.

8a) But seriously, stop being awful at school.

And as that last one doubles as advice to 21!Sor...yeah. We'll leave it at that. In all honesty...I liked myself at 15. I was young, but I've always been too clever by at least five eighths.

What would you tell your 15!self?

~Sor
MOOP!

1: *reads nametag* "Oh! Oh, you're the one my future self told me I should meet! Hello! I'm underage, would you like to be friends? I hear you'll introduce me to interesting things..."
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
So, I've decided to do Yuletide, despite having little-to-no experience in the world of internet fandom, and a nearly debilitating fear that I will do Everything Wrong and make the entire internet hate me. Or inadvertently find myself in the middle of OMGDRAMA.

Allegations that I just want to grow up to be Racheline someday are...well, completely true but have nothing to do with this. I just really like the concept of the Yuletide project, and anything that has a chance of getting me middlefic is a thing that I fully support.




Anyways. Dear person-who-is-writing-me-a-fic (Yulegoat? Why are you a Yulegoat? Oh dear, already this makes no sense!)

Hello there, lovely person who is going to write me a story! You are _super super nice_ and I just want to say thank you and also glee! about the fact that you are going to write a story just for me! That's really really cool.

I've never done this whole Yuletide thing before, and I'm not a huge fandom person (though I enjoy both writing and fannish things) and really, I'm quite concerned I am going to freak you out or something. (Mostly because one of my prompts was "genderswap mad science smut"1) So, I hope I'm doing this mostly right --I've stolen the general format from [livejournal.com profile] futuresoon, since she seems to be pretty savvy about this whole fandom thing2.

So, I think here is where I babble about more elaborate things for my stories? And try not to be too verbose, which tends to be difficult for me. Also, warning, allusions to porn and kink and stuff )

Again, I hope this wasn't _way way way_ too long, and I hope you're not utterly freaked out by me or whathaveyou and I hope the plot bunnies go forth and multiply and you can catch a nice one and write the story easily! Also, I hope you find a five dollar bill and can buy a nice coffee somewhere.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: To my friendslist, if you identified the fandom without peeking under the cut, I give you three gerbils and a tin of mints. :mgrin:

2: And if you ARE Futuresoon, well then. That would be _pretty damn amazing_ is all I'm saying. And I expect one bang-up story from you, young lady! Also, like I've been saying for basically forever, we should hang out sometime. What's going on your week of March 7-13th next year?

3: *blows a kiss towards MarcMagus*
sorcyress: Just a picture of my eye (Me-Eye)
So this is technically fifteen minutes late. Sue me, it's not tomorrow until the sun rises or I sleep.

A week ago, I made a post being all "Half-Naked Thursday, whee!". It was meant to be a look at more metaphorical nakedness, stripping down the walls to show you what I've really got going on in my world.

At any rate, then I mentioned that I originally had two photos and was only showing one of them. This makes this weeks HNT really really easy for me to manage --next week, I will have to actually look around to find a bit of myself to reveal, if indeed, I continue on with this trend.

But yes. Have a picture of me being naked. Odd, in that it's also not a picture of me at all.

Happy Thursday.



This second is a little more new, a little more raw. It's the ceiling of my room, directly above my desk.

A week or two ago, I was having a rough night. In talking with Rackle, she brought up the term "Index card days", where you're just so socially frustrated and out of cope that you have to communicate through tiny 3" by 5" cards.

I have a pile in my desk drawer. Out they came that day, and it seemed the most logical thing in the world to write some song lyrics across them. Lyrics from strength-songs, where the lyrics don't necessarily matter in the slightest, but the message of being strong is crucial to my well being. "Go Away Godboy" is the song I use the most for this --I've never really had problems with people trying to convert me or mine, but howling along with the words can stabilize my mood like nothing else.

Because the words are meant to say "fuck you, I'm stronger than that", and on days when I am weak and helpless, I really need that.

And I forced myself out of the sobbing1 to write more of them, because if I am actively writing, I am forcing distraction, and that little edge of distraction is all I need sometimes to stabilize. All of them have wound up there, tucked into the framework of the drop ceiling. I've got ten of them now, apparently. I'm sure that, as I enter this mood, and need the music and lyrics, I'll think of more.

So that's my current vulnerability. Come visit, I'll let you read them if you'd like.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Which itself was after that pervasive emptiness, and broken by my reaching out. I don't like playing shitty girl games, and I hate being cryptic, but that doesn't mean I manage to make all my words to people transparent. There are people who can read between the letters and the lines, through the /me and the carefully arranged punctuation and capitalization, and figure out what I'm actually trying to say over IM, that I just can't, because the words just won't come.

...and because there isn't an elegant way to put what I'd be doing in reality into words. It's that vulnerable look when I arrive on your doorstep, and ask for a hug, and pull myself into you, a double fistful of your shirt as I hide inside your arms, and pour myself out onto your shoulder. It's past want, straight into need, and I don't have a lot of people I've done it to, or *could* do it to (two? maybe three?) and I'm about to lose one of them, but I don't care, because sometimes there's safety there, and that's what I need more than anything else, that memory of safety. ((ETA: Holy run-on sentences, Batman! But this is kinda what my brain starts doing when I am in a vulnerable state))

It's an index card with eight words on it. It's an IM with eleven. It's being held, and being *held* and being held. It's the stairwells at Springstep, and just out the door at NEFFA. It's the long process of reducing the scarred and improving the weird. It's crying in June with the door shut, it's crying in July curled in the arms of someone I can't have, it's crying in August to a boy I barely know, it's crying-sobbing-breaking in January as I watch Next to Normal and try to separate their pain from mine, and try to find the strength I need to say the words I can't, I couldn't, I did.

It's the response I need, when I need it. It's breaking the emptiness with a *kiss*, and breaking the sobs with an *embrace*. It's *comfort*, from everyone who's ever given it.

And it's s00j and Dar and Vienna and Amanda and Alice.

If you can figure out a quicker way to tell people I need "that" than all the above, I'd love to hear it.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
((This is the essay I've been meaning to post since Flurry --really, more of a narrative. UMYEAH. In the interest of not babbling like an idiot, I don't have any author's notes to preface it with. That's what footnotes are for.))

The Penultimate Waltz
(An essay detailing the happenings of my finest dance this weekend, and a short analysis of the three minute intimate experience.)

In the course of my dance weekend, I had a chance to discuss with a tango instructor the melancholic sensuality of dance. "A three minute deeply intimate experience" he described it, and, catching on to the poetry of the words, stored that thought into my head for later use.

The later use came earlier than expected, the next day, at the end of a contra set. Scouting the hall for someone to dance with, I saw a very vaguely familiar face with a button --"I give hugs".

"Hello, want to dance, and don't I recognize you from NEFFA?" We reintroduced ourselves and joined a set, and I crossed my fingers deep in the back of my mind and prayed, as I always do, that he would be a good partner, and this would be a good set.1

(In contra, the first is far more important than the second, and indeed, unless you are very lucky, there will almost certainly be those you find distasteful, or at best, merely uninteresting.)

So we begin to travel up the set. It is, in a word, exceptional. He is good and I am good and we are Good together.4

That was, unbeknownst to us, the last contra, and after the last contra always comes the Last Waltz. All around us, couples were forming. I waited a polite moment, then went ahead and asked him if he knew how to waltz.

I've danced with many waltzers, some good, some great, some exceptional. He was, perhaps, merely good, slightly on the inexperienced side5 but he had an excellent sense of rhythm and as we danced I found myself drawing steadily closer, to press more against him. He did not pull away -our chemistry palpable to us both.6

We ended, and he pulled me into a hug. (Or perhaps I pulled him, it matters not.) The dancers around us whooped and cheered the music, but we had a mutual reluctance to let go of one another. As I leaned close to him in our hug, I found courage to go ahead and ask -"Would it be impudent of me to ask to kiss you?"

(I am nothing if not terribly polite)

He answered in a positive manner, and our lips met, sweet and warm and wonderful. We pulled apart as the dance dispersed, a slight blush tinting both our cheeks.

"See you at NEFFA" I called as we trailed off in our separate directions, though I think, even if we did, the world will not be the same. But for that three minute intimate moment, nothing mattered but being there and dancing together.

The Last Waltz is meant to be the important one, the one you save, and Dance Flurry ended with one more set of contras and a truly last waltz. But for this festival, of all the dances I danced, that final festival waltz meant nothing compared to the dance (and the kiss) before it --the penultimate waltz.

((Written 15 February 2009))

~Sor
MOOP!

((Postscript, written 8 May 2009:

I danced with him at NEFFA, but we didn't wind up kissing --I may have been slightly distracted at the time. (*coff*) I danced with him last night, being as he was my ride to Concord and whatnot. Ladies7 don't kiss and tell.

He remains probably the best contra dancer I've ever met though. Sorry all the rest of you, 'struth. I've ended a contra with him and been unable to think for a couple minutes --I think the only other person who's ever done that to me just through dancing is Magus, and his glorious waltzing.

...now, to get him into a skirt...>.>))



1: Holy run-on, Batman! This is one of the big problems with whenever I try to be prosey --I get a bit ridiculous2. Also, the line was originally "prayed to the true goddess of dance, for I am merely demi3" but that's perhaps just a bit obscure.

2: I am -well, ridiculously- proud that I have finally figured out how to spell this word.

3: Long ago, The Katters had heaps and heaps of assorted titles --four altogether, I think, although I can only remember three of them right now. (Ritzy the Anti-Strag, Fiend of Vile Falsehoods, and Crackers of the Pointy Tortilla Chips) At some point, I complained about the fact that I disdn't have any titles at all. Shortly thereafter, I received a letter addressed to "Sor, the Demi-Goddess of Dance". Whether or not I 'deserve' that title is an essay for later, but at the time, it made me incredibly happy.

4: 'k, I was gonna go verbatim from my notebook, but I'm not sure what the hell I was writing here. Yes, that's partially because I was in a car when I wrote this and so can't really read my handwriting. Just know that it was a really unbelievably amazing dance.

5: Sooo tempted to revise this, but it'd be a lie. He is a perfectly fine waltzer, but between Magus and Larry, I have been completely spoiled for merely "fine."

6: Dear Sor. Never write prose again. No, *seriously*. Love Kat.

7: I am not a lady. I am a gentleman, however.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Some Thoughts on Some Things:

One of the things that really makes or breaks how much I respect a business is how easy to use their website is. In this day and age, in this country, if a store has a website, I should be able to go onto the website and easily find locations and hours for their stores. Chain stores seem to have a lot of trouble with this --is it that much bandwidth to give each store a little infopage if you don't have standardized hours? Wouldn't the goodwill of the shoppers be worth paying that extra bit per month?

Similarly, for the love of *god*, make your website easy to use. Five minute flash intros that I can't skip (and even, to a certain extent, ones I can) do not make me love you. Flashy menus that I can't figure out how to use do not make me a happyKat.

This is just another reason why I absolutely *adore* Good Vibrations (NSFW) I wanted to know what time they were open on Sundays, I went to the frontpage, selected "stores locations" from the store menu clearly located at the top of the page, and bam! There was the info I needed.



It turns out that there is a name for that particularly gorgeous example of femininity I was talking about the other week --Zerrai Ryouiki (TVtropes will ruin your life) which describes the ratio between length of skirt, amount of thigh shown, and height the stocking goes above the knee.

Okay, so it doesn't specifically mention the boots. But honestly, I'll trade boots for the stockings *any* day. Yum!



As you may or may not know, my New Years Resolution for this year is to stop saying 'less' when I mean 'fewer'. I'm really quite obnoxiously *terrible* about it, and I encourage you lot to call me out whenever you see me fuck up.

((For What It's Worth, fewer is things that are countable. "Less cat" means that the cat has become smaller somehow. "Less cats" is incorrect, unless, perhaps, you're trying to protest musical theatre. "Fewer cats" means that you at one point had a greater number of cats than you do now.))

In a discussion about this with Magus, he pulled a card on me that I'm not sure's ever been pulled before, when I was being irreverent towards my lack of grammar --"Aren't you a writer?"

It smacked me rather across the face at the time. Yes. Yes, goddamit, I *am* a writer. I have been a writer since I was seven years old, and I was a storyteller even before that.

I'm just a writer with terrible spelling and grammar skills. Which honestly, is no kind of writer at all. I'm not sure how immediately clear it was, but there is a huge jump in the way things are spelled in this journal, right when I got Vera. Because with her, I didn't bother figuring out how to turn the stupid little red squiggly "HEY YOU SPELLED THIS WRONG" lines off. So, while I still, as a rule, don't hit spellcheck before I hit post, at least I catch everything that Vera notices is wrong, and do my best to fix it.

Impressively enough, this actually has had some small effect on my real life. Embarrassing. --a-r-r, a-s-s. Two of everything in the middle there, and I couldn't spell it correctly until I had to see what the dictionary recommended for the upteenth time, and decided I was sick of having to right-click the word to fix it.



Do atheists have any right to use "goddamnit"?

(I'm not, and for many phrasings I substitute "gods" for "God", largely because I do that whole Eris-Athe-Mother-FSM polytheistic thing. Butyeah.)

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
So, a proper report of the last few weeks!

On the fourteenth, I got my drivers license, because I am rad.

On the fifteenth, I flew Home and went to Arisia )

Nineteenth was Monday of Arisia. While packing, I think to check the internet, find out what time I can move into my dorm. I mean, last year I could doso just post Arisia, it seemed sensible to expect the same out of this year.

...heh.

"Hey mom? It says I can move in at noon. On the twenty-fifth."

Luckily, I had a handy dandy Magus who I could beg into giving me crash space for a week, so I did that.

Twentieth through the twenty fourth, I hung out with Magus, caught almost all the way up on Doctor Who (just need to watch the Christmas Special!), had a grand old time of things, and did a few other things, like harassing j7y more (it is a hobby! Also, we watched Mighty Boosh!!) and babysitting. And maybe I had a teeny tiny breakdown somewhere in the middle of All That, and had to spend a little bit of time righting my brain.

Twenty third was Friday of Vericon )

The twenty-fifth I skipped Vericon completely, moved in eventually, hugged my roommates, and got dragged to a lesbians house to watch a movie called "Wristcutters: A love story". I kinda want to write fanfic about that setting, though I think I'm not emo enough. Good movie though, very light and fun and reasonably fluffy. And romantic, of course.

The twenty sixth was today, and I'll report on all my classes once I've had the other two. Can I just say EEEE, CALCULUS! though?

And now food and dance. Ta!

~Sor
MOOP!


1: Conner? Connor? *shrugs*
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
1 Year ago today it was 2008. And you don't get a link for this, because I never posted about it.

But I started living a daydream. <3

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Three years ago today, it was 2006. And I was sick.

I don't really get sick very often. I don't tend to get much of anything often, due to a combination of sheer stupid stubborness, which keeps me going long after my body has decided it Does Not Like This, Thanks1 and a relatively awesome immune system.

Of course, the latter is largely because I revel in germs. While I won't eat strange food off the ground, if I drop something, there's a fair chance that I will subsequently put it into my mouth, even if I know damn well if I shouldn't. Actually, I put a LOT of things into my mouth, even if I know damn well I shouldn't. I use my mouth as an extra hand, and biting things is a comfortable sort of way to claim them --certain things I own just feel right if I nip at them, like my luck-cat, and my most possessive2 gesture towards people is to bite them lightly on the shoulder

Soyeah. Woo germs! While I'm not positive, I think that three years ago would be the last time I was seriously sick then.

And of course I watch too much television when I'm laid out on the couch miserable. Doesn't everyone?

~Sor
MOOP!

1: See any long dance ever, especially my first Contra
2: I have a big problem with the concept of possessing people, largely because I have a big problem with being possessed. So I tend to shy away from claiming behaviours, and the word "my" in relation to the human involved in the relationship. (Different from using my in relation to the relationship --ie, Magus is my boyfriend or my boy, but not my Marc.)
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
So, Arisia was pretty awesome. I was at a bit of a weird place hormonally (Anyone want to trade?) but the incredible emotional high of spending a weekend with a lot of people I really quite like totally made up for it and gave me a wonderful rush of homeness.

"Steampunk is easy. All you need is goggles and a top hat." "Yeah, if you WANT to look like a poseur."

(Sorry. Am having conversation while updating. I am scum like that.)

Annndyes.

So.

Here's the awesome(?) news. The fun of Arisia last year was that the monday of it was the day I could move back into my dorm. So, like a sensible person, I assumed that the monday of this years Arisia was the day I could move back in.

Classes start on the 26th. Dorm opens on the 25th. I have a week in Boston to screw around!

So, yeah. I'm going to enjoy being able to spend time in my city as it's meant to be, what with the good and glorious SNOW everywhere to play in. (I suspect I'll be sick of it as soon as I have to walk anywhere ever, but in the meantime, ohmygod, SNOWWWW!)

My shoulder is being read over, which is always slightly disconcerting not because I mind the words being read, but because it always tends to make me self-conscious when I am watched in any way, and doubly so for what I lamely consider my art. 'Specially because I tend to have just abysmal grammar.

Annnnd I'm going to finish packing now. Byeeee.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
You know what? Nothing amuses me like being silly, so I'm thinking I'm just going to repost this with slight changes.

Because three years ago today, it was 2006. And I decided to be a comments whore.

No one ever comments in my journal! Therefore, I'm going to delete it, and commit suicide. Possibly involving a fish, although I might use my Ravonous Bug-Blatter Beast of Traal.

After I'm done with that, I might go somewhere. Cool!

I've recently had a major life change! Thats right -I've morphed into an androgynous three eyed hooloovoo, with an extra arm shaped like a fork. And I'm getting divoriced from my friend Shirly. She's such a bitch.

But there are many cool people who aren't bitches. [livejournal.com profile] thorog's not a bitch for instance. He's smart. Same with [livejournal.com profile] naraht. And [livejournal.com profile] muzikmaker21 is of course just awesome. I got to see herhim
(Oh god this is old) this weekend. I also saw [livejournal.com profile] werewulf. And [livejournal.com profile] artemisfowl2nd. And later I get to see [livejournal.com profile] jere7my and [livejournal.com profile] marcmagus! But not [livejournal.com profile] macaroniandtuna or [livejournal.com profile] drama_angel3189 which is a shame, because they are also cool people.

I am wearing very little! I won't post pics though, because I'm embarrassedtoo lazy to turn on the webcam.

I saw this article about abortion in the paper. It was all about Montana's abortion laws. I think Montana is boring, except for Montana Jones. He's cute. Those are my opinions!

(((To all the people giving me VERY strange looks at this point, I'm merely playing with the idea of the Naraht-ian laws of getting comments)))


~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Apologies for missing yesterday, I suppose. This is really only just my project, I think, so I don't know why I feel the need to offer apologies to anyone else. Still though. It's just been...a long day. Didn't get a chance to post, not really, so I'm just going to skip the ninth and go onto the tenth.

The tenth is more relevant, anyways.

One year ago today, it was 2008. And I had a bit of a panic attack. Nothing too serious --just me bailing on reality for a bit, climbing my tree, talking to the denizens1. Being shoeless and in a t-shirt in a tree, at night, in what I think I remember being wet. All of this (including and especially the bodymisery2) is very normal for me.

Different from most every panic attack prior to that date, this was the first time I have any memory of being able to Get Help with my insanities.

I'm up there, in my tree, with Gabe just holding me --not trying to help me, not trying to sort me out, just being this presence wrapped around me in a way that no one had ever really done in the real world3. And somehow, he gave me the strength to know that I would listen to someone else, and that the only way to do that was to use that tool in my pocket and call someone.

I forget exactly what I got Magus to tell me when I called him...something along the lines of "You're a worthwhile person, okay?". And...it worked. We talked a little on the phone, and a bunch on IM. It's frightening to trust like that; I'm still not really any good at it.

But at least I'm getting better.

Oh, and Sor? You're right here:
And I have no idea why I'm telling you all this and I think I may need to go sit quietly back behind my walls for a little bit, but that's probably not the right answer except it's safer there
Only not, because walls trap people inside them


Soyes. I'm actually planning to discuss the entry from today more when I get around to making my resolutions2008 post. But damn. It's nice to know how to trust people. And it's really really nice to know that I have people who, when they ask how I'm feeling, I can say I feel shit and babble a bit and they'll comfort me and randomly and for no reason tell me I'm pretty6.

Take care of yourselves, y'all. And call me if you need that shoulder --I mean it.

~Sor
MOOP!

1: Annnd slitting Alis's throat. Yeah. I get fucked up during panic attacks. Luckily, denizens don't die like that.

2: Bodymisery --using the world around me to inadvertently hurt myself. Letting myself be hungry or freeze my ass off. Yes, I know I should do that sort of shit, but when I'm in that sort of state, I can't bring myself to care or believe I deserve the proper human comforts I tend to love.

3: I have this thing...since I was very young, most every time I've cried, I've had this desperate want for someone to just be there to hold me and help me feel better. Of course, if I called them or in any way got them to come do such a thing, it would be tainted by the fear that I was hurting someone through my own misery, or dragging them away from something more important4. As such, I have *been* held like I needed when I cried, twice now even. It's mind-bogglingly amazing to realize you're living one of your fantasys.5

4: Yes, I know this is *really* stupid. You don't have to tell me.

5: 2008 I got to live three big ones, that I remember. Yeah. Yeah. It was an amazing year.

6: Gods, I love that. I never get tired of it, and I'll probably never stop blushing and smiling like an idiot.
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
While working on my X Years Ago Today post for today, I stumbled across last year's "review of the year in a sentance"

The exact wording I used to explain was "So, unless there's something from the last 12 months that you really want to know about, I'm going to skip doing a nice big wordy post this year, and give you the one sentence summery of the past twelve months:"

Last year? Sorcy got into college, met her clone, made some bad decisions, made some good decisions, survived her first semester at college, and didn't die.

This year?

Sorcy started dating two utterly amazing people, went to a bunch of cons, got a job at a thrift store, traveled to North Carolina to see one of her favourite musicals, made friends with the right people and continued to enjoy school, a lot.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Bytheway, happy new years and I am still alive, as are Kat and Swing. The jury is still out on Magus, who may have the plague1.

Things that have been happening:

Watching some Black Books
Watching the entire internet at the party
Playing Agricola2
Watching the end of season two of Titus
Watching almost all the rest of Middleman4
Me working on a general "these were the resolutions of 2008 that I ignored, and here, have some resolutions for 2009 that I will ignore.

Annnnnndyeah. Now it is time for me to go to work. This is incredibly lame, though at least there are lovely people who ought to be around when I get home. Unless they die. Which would really really suck. So, uh, dearhearts, don't die, it will make me a sadKat.

In other news, yay, it's been a year for me and that pretty girl who I snog on occasion. Good for us!

~Sor
MOOP!

1: No, he does not really have the plague. I tend to be wildly exaggeratey about things like that.

2: Dan4th, Dan4th, Dan4th, if you are reading this, get this game. *Totally* get this game. Get this game, and Magus3 and I will totally come over and play with you. Because ohmgods, it is a strategery game that I actually enjoy.

3: Once he recovers from the plague

4: (Middleman!)
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)
Solife.

Back in Maryland --there was a mom and a MoMo waiting for me at the airport, which was super GLOMP!!!

...Erm. Super-aweso-tastic. MoMo just decided to steal the keyboard in the middle of my typing, and who am I to let people not steal computers?

Soyeah, I'm home, and within about half an hour of getting there, I decided impulsively to bake cookies. So that's what I'm up to now.

***

Magus and I went off to Dan4th's last night in order to play games. First game played: "What do you want for dinner?" Second game played: "I don't know, what do you want to play?" Yeah. Dan4th and DaBunny ++

We did eventually settle into playing "real" games, which was multiple levels of sheer excellence. Games played are: David and Goliath, Loopin' Louie, Jungle Speed, Category 5, Covert Action, and Three-Dragon Ante. And possibly something else that I'm forgetting.

(Side note? I neeeeeed a copy of Loopin' Louie, holy shit. It's too damn fun. Also, humanity bless Jungle Speed with more than three people. I had forgotten just how damn good the game is when you play it with enough people (eight is about ideal) Alsoalso, The Empty City needs a copy of Three-Dragon Ante, methinks, if only because it's got beautiful dragons on it, and that's right up mom's alley.)

In other news, someone remind me to take pictures of our games cabinets for Dan4th. Or something like that.

***

In other news, a monkey wrench may have been thrown most bodily into my plans. Hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

Hate.

Haaaaaaaaate.

Hatehate.

Hey ShadowKevin, I may need that ride to College Park after all...

(Hate.)

***

Yeah, I'ma gonna go play RockBand now. (DRUMS!)

~Sor
MOOP!

(Still hate.)
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Zor)
Wow. 12 entries for Gygax. Now I'm trying to remember how many entries I had on my flist for Terry Pratchett getting Alzheimers.

So, the Officially Awesome [livejournal.com profile] dan4th tossed me an IM tonight being all "wanna come over and play Dungeon!, in memorium of Gary Gygax?" Me being the sensible type, I go "I've never played before, but sure. Can I drag Magus along?"

Bla bla, show up and Dan4th's house, introduce the two of them, and play a round of Dungeon!. Which, I gotta say, the game makes *profoundly* more sense when you're actually paying attention to the rules and playing it rather than spreading the cards out on the floor and being all "oo, shiny jewels!" (which is what me and Aly used to do on occasion.)

It was a cute game. I won, because I'm cool like that. :D

Wound up spending the better part of the next two hours talking games, books, kittens, and general geek with Magus and Dan4th, which, I gotta say is one of the better ways to spend an evening. Also, Dan owns both a pair of kittens and a laser pointer. I taught him the "get the kitties to follow the laser dot to the ceiling, and then stare desperately at it as they figure out how the hell it got there." game, which is one of my favourites. He taught me that I'm not the only person who says horrible things to cats and babies because they don't understand me. We fight crime?

(((Unrelatedly, what the fuck, I don't have a usericon sutible for gaming? What the hell is *wrong* with me? I've got books ('I like Ham'), movies (WoSaT), Music (TMBG or Clone Me), TV (The Doctor), and Webcomics (Bun-Bun or Oasis) covered, but I've got nothing for games. Hey Sor --Fail!

Also unrelatedly, I really need to rehaul my userpics some time.)))

Soyeah. Had a good evening. I really need to get out to Dan4th's for gaming more often, considering he does it twice a week, and I don't actually *do* anything those days. (Though, I'm sure if I ever get my act together, Persis and David would be happy to kidnap me for contra-dancing on Thursday nights).

Regardless, I'll be in Maryland for the next two weekends, and presumably at Anime Boston for the one after that. So it's a bit of a moot point.

***

There's a lot of babbling about gaming here, that I'm just going to turn into a separate entry.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Dumbly-dore!)
Hum. Apparently, wearing dangly earring(s) achieves the same visual effect of putting my hair up in a bun, it makes my neck look longer, and gives me (to my eye, at least) a more femme look.

*makes a mental note to study Magus next time she sees him with his hair both down and up and see if it does the same thing to him*

Also, NTS: Clearing out the cache and history is probably good for my computer ocassionally, however, I need to remember that that's going to wipe out the autofill in my URL bar. Which isn't bad, per se, it just means that I need to remember things like "http://livejournal.com/update.bml" instead of being able to type in "liv" and hitting the down arrow three times.

Or I can just reach pages the old fashioned way. Yeah, that's likely.

~Sor
MOOP!

P.S: Currently on skip 100 entries. Wooo, almost there!!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Be Happy Elephant)
There is a very important "State of the Sorcy" post lurking, and it needs me to be rational to do it. Be warned, ranty thoughtstreaming will appear in this journal before too long.

***

I'm not as strong as I thought. Kinda knew that, at any rate. I am also piss-poor at not crying when I'm upset.

***

On a similar note, it seems someone gave me one of those presents that I've been really looking for for years and years now, and I don't look a total mess when I cry. I don't know if it was just winter or what, but as far as I can tell, I stayed mostly one colour today.

***

I'm actually really displeased with how emo my livejournal is too. The problem is that I assume just writing about my day to day life is boring, and I haven't written any intelligent thoughtstreams in a rats age. I write and write and write, and the majority of everything is crap, both in content and style.

I think I really need to make one of my New Years resolutions to be to write something, every day.

***

Besides, my life is fundementally boring. When I'm in MA, I go dancing on Monday nights, and to class the rest of the week. Ocassionally, I'll actually do something coherent with my friends, that we actually plan ahead of time, but ninty percent of everything happens spur of the moment, and I don't usually bother to document that, because it's not anything special, it's just a lot of getting together with friends and screwing around.

Take a mostly typical day, a couple weeks ago, the day I found out that my harddrive was unrecoverable. Dominik wanted to know if Lauren, Emily, and I were willing to randomly go to the social security building with him, just so he'd have company. We walked over, and sat down on the floor waiting for Dominiks number to be called. While we waited, we discussed gender, and where we all fell on the male-female scale, amoung other things that I don't remember. Eventually, Dominik got called, he did his stuff, and we walked to McIntyre and Moores to try and find a book for Emily's class. We stopped off at Diesel so that I could buy something delicious as a "fuckfuckfuck, I have no harddrive" treat, then we went and got on the T and rode back to Porter Square. I peeled off and went to Magus' haus, to be emo and distracted, the two of us eventually went dancing, and then came back and...I think watched the first season of Coupling.

I went home, woke up the next day, and went about my merry business.

Adventures do not happen to me. A good long time ago, I had this theory of making something adventurous happen each day, but that fell through after a grand total of two days. Mores the pity.

Maybe that's all I really need. To just start having an adventure a day.

***

Still haven't seen Sweeney Todd yet, unlike everyone else I know. Fuckers. Going to try and catch it with Renee and assorted other people tonight, but it seems moderately unlikely. We'll see.

***

I'm going to go rock out now. Ta.

~Sor
MOOP!
sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
You know what's dangerous?

Webcomics are dangerous.

Fucking Punch an' Pie. I would've been to bed an hour earlier if it hadn't been sitting open in my browser, waiting for me.

Granted, an hour earlier after last night means "5:30". Yes, AM. Shh. >.>

***

You know what's fun? Keira's cooking. Keirafood is INTENSELY fun. And by fun, I mean delicious.

Also, cookies. Also, washing dishes, which is an awesome job for someone who has a perfectionist streak. Also, Eddie Izzard, though boo for falling asleep in the same place I always do and missing all the jokes.

Also, cookies. With some sort of deliciously evil crasin-cherry jam hybrid middle and almonds and coconut and DEAR GOD WANT. *stalks Keira in a distractable sort of manner*

***

You know what sucks?

Having to go work on my computers final, and have a party, and pack to go home to Maryland, all in roughly the same block of time. Ye-up. Sucks. Also, what the hell do I bring to Maryland from Bawston? I mean, I have some clothes down there, but all my costumes and most of the clothes I wear are up here, and there are trinkets I should bring, and presents and OH SHIT NEED PRESENT FOR OTHERKAT, FUCKITY FUCK and yeah.

My brain is kinda weird.

~Sor

Profile

sorcyress: Drawing of me as a pirate, standing in front of the Boston Citgo sign (Default)
Katarina Whimsy

September 2017

S M T W T F S
     12
3 4 567 89
10111213141516
1718 1920212223
24252627282930

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 23rd, 2017 11:55 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios