Pointless entry is pointless.
May. 15th, 2009 03:45 pmToDo List:
*Call work on Saturday to find out when I'm working next week
*Make a Booty Chest uniform to wear as a hall costume at Balticon
*Reply to Jesse, Tricia, Newt
*Cook something for dinner. Real mac and cheese, maybe? I'd have to buy ingredients, methinks.
*Work more on unpacking and whatnot
*Harass Veronica sometime, find out when more Buffy can happen.
*Take apart my fabulous green wench skirt in order to make it into a pattern in order to make more fabulous skirts.
*Run that last load of laundry
I'm sure there are other things, but they are probably boring. Like these, only moreso.
I like that I always feel quite on top of things and ready to accomplish just everything ever when I get home for the summer, and then promptly forget about it all about a week later.
~Sor
MOOP!
*Call work on Saturday to find out when I'm working next week
*Make a Booty Chest uniform to wear as a hall costume at Balticon
*Reply to Jesse, Tricia, Newt
*Cook something for dinner. Real mac and cheese, maybe? I'd have to buy ingredients, methinks.
*Work more on unpacking and whatnot
*Harass Veronica sometime, find out when more Buffy can happen.
*Take apart my fabulous green wench skirt in order to make it into a pattern in order to make more fabulous skirts.
*Run that last load of laundry
I'm sure there are other things, but they are probably boring. Like these, only moreso.
I like that I always feel quite on top of things and ready to accomplish just everything ever when I get home for the summer, and then promptly forget about it all about a week later.
~Sor
MOOP!
(no subject)
May. 10th, 2009 01:03 pmTHINGS TO DO TODAY:
Shower
Eat something (Ideally more than just "the rest of that small bag of chips")
Go on secret mission. Secret mission things.
Call mom, happy mother's day
Call my clone, happy fucking birthday, nyah nyah, you're old.
(Finish that story)
CREPES!
Study Maths
Sleep.
OPTIONAL:
Packmore?
~Sor
MOOP!
Call mom, happy mother's day
Call my clone, happy fucking birthday, nyah nyah, you're old.
(Finish that story)
Study Maths
Sleep.
OPTIONAL:
Packmore?
~Sor
MOOP!
Annnnd that's officially exhausted. Fuck. Not entirely sure how I'm gonna make it through Rocky tonight. Not entirely positive that I'll be able to manage crepes or gallivanting off to goodvibes tomorrow. ((The latter of which seems to have been declared a lonely sort of one person mission, which is honestly okay. It's one thing to gossip about my shlicking1 habits on here, it's another to drag people along on equipment runs.))
Of course, at the moment, I'm drained out in such a way that I'm not entirely sure I'm gonna make it through any semblance of the rest of the 62 hours and 27 minutes I have left in this state. ((Technically a little bit longer, but I'm counting until noon on Tuesday, when my final ends.))
Oh gods, I've started counting in hours. That's a billion zillion kinds of wonderful. [/sarcasm, in case that wasn't clear.]
...shit man, I really just want to crawl into a hole with someone I love and be held for a while. I continue to not know exactly what's making me so touch-desperate this week/month, but it's not helping right now.
...I am amused that going back and expanding on the masturbation references cheers me right up. Or distracts me. Or makes me feel like either an idiot or a naughty, *wicked* zoot, and one that clearly deserves a spanking.And then, the oral sex!
Umyeah. Emo post is emo. Sexy post is not actually sexy. Tired Sor is gonna go see if she can go home soon so she can put on a short skirt and fishnets and go make a fool of herself, Rocky style.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Female equivalent of fapping. Obligatory "points to the first person to admit to getting the reference" thing.
Of course, at the moment, I'm drained out in such a way that I'm not entirely sure I'm gonna make it through any semblance of the rest of the 62 hours and 27 minutes I have left in this state. ((Technically a little bit longer, but I'm counting until noon on Tuesday, when my final ends.))
Oh gods, I've started counting in hours. That's a billion zillion kinds of wonderful. [/sarcasm, in case that wasn't clear.]
...shit man, I really just want to crawl into a hole with someone I love and be held for a while. I continue to not know exactly what's making me so touch-desperate this week/month, but it's not helping right now.
...I am amused that going back and expanding on the masturbation references cheers me right up. Or distracts me. Or makes me feel like either an idiot or a naughty, *wicked* zoot, and one that clearly deserves a spanking.
Umyeah. Emo post is emo. Sexy post is not actually sexy. Tired Sor is gonna go see if she can go home soon so she can put on a short skirt and fishnets and go make a fool of herself, Rocky style.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Female equivalent of fapping. Obligatory "points to the first person to admit to getting the reference" thing.
On Hair, and loving my body
May. 9th, 2009 03:14 pmOh hey, I never posted this. It seems pretty readable, so have an essay that's been lying around on my desktop for a couple weeks. I think I wrote it just post-NEFFA or so.
So, I don't shave my legs.
(I don't shave my armpits either, but it's a little easier to hide that --I can wear t-shirts all summer. There is weather where pants *really* aren't an option.)
I've never shaved --never really seen the point. My general feeling about it is that the only thing it really accomplishes is boy attraction, and therefore falls into the same category of "completely fucking useless" as wearing make-up does. When I was of an age to learn how and get into the habit, I was also of an age where boys were useless and relationships impossible. For just post-pubescent Sorcyress, boy chasing was the furthest thing from my mind.
As I've gotten older, actually accepted that maybe this relationship idea is not all bad all the time, and started to (on occasion) do things specifically to attract boys1, 2, I've still never bothered to shave my legs. Between the feministy stance and the much larger "I am lazy and a little bit of a perfectionist and I don't want to waste my time doing that to the degree I'd want to" stance, I've just never gotten around to it.
This would not be a problem, were I not a little bit self conscious of my hairy self. Okay, a lot self conscious. I try really quite hard to love my body just the way it is, but as with the stomach thing (mine is round, not flat), I live in a society that has made it very very clear that my body is NOT PERFECT and I should therefore try to fix it.
This is obviously bullshit. The clearest reason I can see for having a societally perfect body is so I can catch myself a man. Maybe if I get to a point where I can't rattle off without thinking the names of ten guys3 who would happily have sloppy make-outs with me I'll shave and start binge-dieting like it's going out of style6, but in the meantime, I think I can live comfortably with my really quite awesomely hot body just as it is.
Now, almost a year ago, something in my attitudes changed. Prior to this, I tended to wear a lot of tights, a lot of pants, yes, all summer long. Tank tops would only be worn with an open button-up shirt over them. Society couldn't make me take a razor to skin7, but it could at least make me hide the fact that I didn't.
So, a year ago, I was driving somewhere with my friend Jim. It was recockulously hot out, because it was summer in Maryland, and I was wearing shorts. At one point in the conversation, he commented, and I gave my usual "I am lazy and a feminist and therefore don't bother" answer. His response? Totally without mocking "You go girl."
My brain clicked into place, and more or less all was right with the world. That was about the point of my life where I started actively trying to be better about loving my body like it deserves. I've stopped wearing tights when I know damn well they'll be too warm, short skirts are even less the enemy than before, and while I'm still a little bit self conscious wandering out in the world, I'm getting better and better at just not giving a shit.
I don't get in people's faces about it. I don't rail against my smooth-legged friends. ((Hell, when given the invitation, I will happily run my hands up and down my roommates just shaven legs --all of the niceness without any of the itching or stubble the next day!)) I don't even usually bring it up. I just wear short skirts and bare legs and let people decide for themselves whether that's terrible. If people can't be friends with me just because I don't match that idea of normalcy, well, I don't really want them to stick around to find all the other deviant behaviours I indulge in.
I still can't look in the mirror every day and think I'm gorgeous. Hell, half the time I can't even manage seeing "pretty". But I'm getting a lot better at looking in the mirror and seeing myself, exactly as I'm meant to be, and not someone uncomfortable in her own skin.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I feel that this is about the point in the essay where I should say I'm only using boys because I am too lazy to constantly write out "folk who like girls" I have no problems with being ogled by members of any gender --at least not when I'm in ogleable mode. It's a weird little exhibitionist line, and would probably take another essay to explain.
2: And I still don't often do things specifically to attract people. Rocky Horror and *some* conventions are the only exceptions, and only to a small extent.
3: This is not an exaggeration, and I've thought of at least two more since I said that. And these are just the folk I *know* want sloppy make-outs --I'll be damned if I can ever remember or keep track of how many of you want to take me home and do naughty things with me.4
4: ...or to me, but that's a different post, and one I don't feel like putting here. Suffice to say, I think that sloppy make-outs5 should have all parties as active participants. More fun like that.
5: This is a euphanism.
6: Or, you know, I'll just get over it and be happily single. Shock, horror, all that.
7: And that's another thing. Razor blade. Can kill people. Scraping against skin. How the *fuck* is this considered normal for *anyone*?
((That being said, I do have maybe a slight preference for clean shaven men. But I've had perfectly nice kissies with boys with beards before, so really, shaven status is totally up to them. Unless they try to grow a pornstache. I do not give kissies to boys with pornstaches.))
So, I don't shave my legs.
(I don't shave my armpits either, but it's a little easier to hide that --I can wear t-shirts all summer. There is weather where pants *really* aren't an option.)
I've never shaved --never really seen the point. My general feeling about it is that the only thing it really accomplishes is boy attraction, and therefore falls into the same category of "completely fucking useless" as wearing make-up does. When I was of an age to learn how and get into the habit, I was also of an age where boys were useless and relationships impossible. For just post-pubescent Sorcyress, boy chasing was the furthest thing from my mind.
As I've gotten older, actually accepted that maybe this relationship idea is not all bad all the time, and started to (on occasion) do things specifically to attract boys1, 2, I've still never bothered to shave my legs. Between the feministy stance and the much larger "I am lazy and a little bit of a perfectionist and I don't want to waste my time doing that to the degree I'd want to" stance, I've just never gotten around to it.
This would not be a problem, were I not a little bit self conscious of my hairy self. Okay, a lot self conscious. I try really quite hard to love my body just the way it is, but as with the stomach thing (mine is round, not flat), I live in a society that has made it very very clear that my body is NOT PERFECT and I should therefore try to fix it.
This is obviously bullshit. The clearest reason I can see for having a societally perfect body is so I can catch myself a man. Maybe if I get to a point where I can't rattle off without thinking the names of ten guys3 who would happily have sloppy make-outs with me I'll shave and start binge-dieting like it's going out of style6, but in the meantime, I think I can live comfortably with my really quite awesomely hot body just as it is.
Now, almost a year ago, something in my attitudes changed. Prior to this, I tended to wear a lot of tights, a lot of pants, yes, all summer long. Tank tops would only be worn with an open button-up shirt over them. Society couldn't make me take a razor to skin7, but it could at least make me hide the fact that I didn't.
So, a year ago, I was driving somewhere with my friend Jim. It was recockulously hot out, because it was summer in Maryland, and I was wearing shorts. At one point in the conversation, he commented, and I gave my usual "I am lazy and a feminist and therefore don't bother" answer. His response? Totally without mocking "You go girl."
My brain clicked into place, and more or less all was right with the world. That was about the point of my life where I started actively trying to be better about loving my body like it deserves. I've stopped wearing tights when I know damn well they'll be too warm, short skirts are even less the enemy than before, and while I'm still a little bit self conscious wandering out in the world, I'm getting better and better at just not giving a shit.
I don't get in people's faces about it. I don't rail against my smooth-legged friends. ((Hell, when given the invitation, I will happily run my hands up and down my roommates just shaven legs --all of the niceness without any of the itching or stubble the next day!)) I don't even usually bring it up. I just wear short skirts and bare legs and let people decide for themselves whether that's terrible. If people can't be friends with me just because I don't match that idea of normalcy, well, I don't really want them to stick around to find all the other deviant behaviours I indulge in.
I still can't look in the mirror every day and think I'm gorgeous. Hell, half the time I can't even manage seeing "pretty". But I'm getting a lot better at looking in the mirror and seeing myself, exactly as I'm meant to be, and not someone uncomfortable in her own skin.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I feel that this is about the point in the essay where I should say I'm only using boys because I am too lazy to constantly write out "folk who like girls" I have no problems with being ogled by members of any gender --at least not when I'm in ogleable mode. It's a weird little exhibitionist line, and would probably take another essay to explain.
2: And I still don't often do things specifically to attract people. Rocky Horror and *some* conventions are the only exceptions, and only to a small extent.
3: This is not an exaggeration, and I've thought of at least two more since I said that. And these are just the folk I *know* want sloppy make-outs --I'll be damned if I can ever remember or keep track of how many of you want to take me home and do naughty things with me.4
4: ...or to me, but that's a different post, and one I don't feel like putting here. Suffice to say, I think that sloppy make-outs5 should have all parties as active participants. More fun like that.
5: This is a euphanism.
6: Or, you know, I'll just get over it and be happily single. Shock, horror, all that.
7: And that's another thing. Razor blade. Can kill people. Scraping against skin. How the *fuck* is this considered normal for *anyone*?
((That being said, I do have maybe a slight preference for clean shaven men. But I've had perfectly nice kissies with boys with beards before, so really, shaven status is totally up to them. Unless they try to grow a pornstache. I do not give kissies to boys with pornstaches.))
We Didn't Playtest This Either!
May. 9th, 2009 01:20 pmSo, I'm sure I've mentioned or alluded at some point or another that, at anime conventions, I work for my friend
xalolo selling copies of his game "We Didn't Playtest This At All". (And some other games, like Wack a Catgirl and Sixis --I love Sixis. It's brilliantfun, and just random enough to not irritate me with how strategerybased it is.)
Certainly I've forced a good number of those of you I know in real life to play Playtest with me at one point or another --it's silly, fun, and small enough that I just carry it with me more or less everywhere.
( Cut for images )
~Sor
MOOP!
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Certainly I've forced a good number of those of you I know in real life to play Playtest with me at one point or another --it's silly, fun, and small enough that I just carry it with me more or less everywhere.
( Cut for images )
~Sor
MOOP!
Good ol' fashioned Quote of the Day!
Apr. 28th, 2009 05:13 pm5:11:44 PM Akchizar: I have a spider bite!
5:12:21 PM Just Sor: I saw!
5:12:26 PM Just Sor: You're swell!
5:12:28 PM Just Sor: ...ed
5:12:31 PM Akchizar: ....
5:12:43 PM Akchizar: Why do I even let you talk
My day is going somewhat better. I have an obscenely chocolate...thing that is actually far too much on the wet chocolate1 side of the spectrum for me to actually enjoy it, and potato chips, and mango nakedsmoothie.
And Italianstuffs went okay, I just have to get with the memorizing. Oh hey, dear everyone! I give you FULL PERMISSION to hit me with sticks if you ever hear of me giving my students group projects. Seriously, man. *such* a bad fucking idea.
Also, student center is significantly better air conditioned than my room. Looks like Ver and I are going to have to be social for a while. eirghnkglgvojrmninety fucking degreesgkhjalefg
Oh good, I have talking privileges back. And yes, this *does* appear to be an "eight dozen posts in one day" day, however did you guess?
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I like dry chocolate things --chocolate cake, brownies, muffins, etc. I don't like wet chocolate things -ice cream, pudding, frosting. Yeah. I don't really get it either.
5:12:21 PM Just Sor: I saw!
5:12:26 PM Just Sor: You're swell!
5:12:28 PM Just Sor: ...ed
5:12:31 PM Akchizar: ....
5:12:43 PM Akchizar: Why do I even let you talk
My day is going somewhat better. I have an obscenely chocolate...thing that is actually far too much on the wet chocolate1 side of the spectrum for me to actually enjoy it, and potato chips, and mango nakedsmoothie.
And Italianstuffs went okay, I just have to get with the memorizing. Oh hey, dear everyone! I give you FULL PERMISSION to hit me with sticks if you ever hear of me giving my students group projects. Seriously, man. *such* a bad fucking idea.
Also, student center is significantly better air conditioned than my room. Looks like Ver and I are going to have to be social for a while. eirghnkglgvojrmninety fucking degreesgkhjalefg
Oh good, I have talking privileges back. And yes, this *does* appear to be an "eight dozen posts in one day" day, however did you guess?
~Sor
MOOP!
1: I like dry chocolate things --chocolate cake, brownies, muffins, etc. I don't like wet chocolate things -ice cream, pudding, frosting. Yeah. I don't really get it either.
My weekend!
Apr. 27th, 2009 04:18 pmSo, this weekend I went to NEFFA. YAY! I decided to go the entire time without Vera. YA...oh, wait, BOO!
But! Before going, I set up my phone to receive twitter messages, from mom and the people who were gonna be at NEFFA, and more importantly, set it up so I could update my twitter from anywhere I got phone service.
Tweets are in italics, and ( under the cut )
So yes. NEFFA this year felt largely more like a convention than a dance event, but I'm pretty okay with that. I spent several hours doing multiple kinds of dance --I got to do a bit of swing with a really talented lead --he led me through a couple jumps and dips, which was rad.
Volunteering went reasonably well, if dull. Dancing was not enough but quite good what there was. People were utterly amazing --I should really make a point of talking to SpringIsWrath more often, as he is wonderful, plus keeping up with Jesse (known also as Boy-I-Kissed-At-Flurry) and
ncarraway.
Soyes! That was my weekend. More posting on more things eventually.
~Sor
MOOP!
POSTSCRIPT: My twitter is here, if you want to actually follow it. Let me know offlist who you are, so I can follow you back!
1: I like boys in skirts, oh yes I do.
2: Tall. Painfully skinny. Long hair. I don't find everyone who fits this trope attractive, and there are certainly other tropes I go for hard (my height, something like twenty or thirty pounds more of curves than I have, dark hair, female -oh yum!) but both my dating track record and my eyecandy track record reeeeally like the gangly ones.
3: Pets, with the capital letter, are different from pets, without. The capital letter denotes ownership of some sort --it's very not my kink, but not to the level where I'd call it an antikink4 or anything. I find it a fascinating power dynamic, from both sides.
4: I feel that the most acceptable word for the opposite of a kink is a squick. But the word squick (and its original meaning)...well...squicks me, so I try not to use it. I'm working on finding a better word, expect post on this later.
But! Before going, I set up my phone to receive twitter messages, from mom and the people who were gonna be at NEFFA, and more importantly, set it up so I could update my twitter from anywhere I got phone service.
Tweets are in italics, and ( under the cut )
So yes. NEFFA this year felt largely more like a convention than a dance event, but I'm pretty okay with that. I spent several hours doing multiple kinds of dance --I got to do a bit of swing with a really talented lead --he led me through a couple jumps and dips, which was rad.
Volunteering went reasonably well, if dull. Dancing was not enough but quite good what there was. People were utterly amazing --I should really make a point of talking to SpringIsWrath more often, as he is wonderful, plus keeping up with Jesse (known also as Boy-I-Kissed-At-Flurry) and
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Soyes! That was my weekend. More posting on more things eventually.
~Sor
MOOP!
POSTSCRIPT: My twitter is here, if you want to actually follow it. Let me know offlist who you are, so I can follow you back!
1: I like boys in skirts, oh yes I do.
2: Tall. Painfully skinny. Long hair. I don't find everyone who fits this trope attractive, and there are certainly other tropes I go for hard (my height, something like twenty or thirty pounds more of curves than I have, dark hair, female -oh yum!) but both my dating track record and my eyecandy track record reeeeally like the gangly ones.
3: Pets, with the capital letter, are different from pets, without. The capital letter denotes ownership of some sort --it's very not my kink, but not to the level where I'd call it an antikink4 or anything. I find it a fascinating power dynamic, from both sides.
4: I feel that the most acceptable word for the opposite of a kink is a squick. But the word squick (and its original meaning)...well...squicks me, so I try not to use it. I'm working on finding a better word, expect post on this later.
(no subject)
Apr. 23rd, 2009 05:01 pmI have a bit of a mama bear complex.
Which is to say, if you touch my cubs, I *will* hurt you, however possible. Words, or physically, or however I can. And being made helpless, unable to protect those I think of as mine...well...it is among my least favourite things in the world.
My "cubs" are quite a lot of people, too. Alys, Veronica -those are the most obvious ones, and the ones I am absolutely most protective of. But when it comes down to it, pretty much all my contract mates, definitely everyone I think of as an older or younger sister, my roommates, Nik, the high school friends I'm still close to, the college friends I've made, the entire pie shop...You hurt someone I care about, and I will not be happy with you.
The problem, and I actually find it a very interesting one, comes when two of my cubs are fighting, or one of them is (inadvertently or purposely) causing another to be hurt. Who do I protect? Do I just ignore them both publicly and support each of them in private1? Do I go ahead and bitch out the offending party, despite caring dearly for them? Do I curl up in a hole and hope the whole thing goes away?
This doesn't really have anything to do with anything. I largely just find it an interesting thing to ponder. On the one hand, I don't care for the idea of "ranking" friends, and of course, all rankings would be situational, anyways. (If Alys punched...say...Emily in the stomach, I'd tell Alys she's an idiot, despite normally considering her more my cub than Emily. Though it occurs to me I'd probably be gentler on Alys than I would on Emily were their positions reversed.)
On the other...well...there are people I am more protective of than others --not necessarily closer friends, but people I feel it's more important I take care of, often because I tend to consider them mentally younger, and more in need of my protection. (And let me tell you, it is startling as all fuck when they do something that illustrates that they are actually a lot older than they necessarily seem.)
*shrugs*
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Yes. I can say with some confidence that this is the route I took with the strongest example of two people I quite like and care for being stupid to each other.
Which is to say, if you touch my cubs, I *will* hurt you, however possible. Words, or physically, or however I can. And being made helpless, unable to protect those I think of as mine...well...it is among my least favourite things in the world.
My "cubs" are quite a lot of people, too. Alys, Veronica -those are the most obvious ones, and the ones I am absolutely most protective of. But when it comes down to it, pretty much all my contract mates, definitely everyone I think of as an older or younger sister, my roommates, Nik, the high school friends I'm still close to, the college friends I've made, the entire pie shop...You hurt someone I care about, and I will not be happy with you.
The problem, and I actually find it a very interesting one, comes when two of my cubs are fighting, or one of them is (inadvertently or purposely) causing another to be hurt. Who do I protect? Do I just ignore them both publicly and support each of them in private1? Do I go ahead and bitch out the offending party, despite caring dearly for them? Do I curl up in a hole and hope the whole thing goes away?
This doesn't really have anything to do with anything. I largely just find it an interesting thing to ponder. On the one hand, I don't care for the idea of "ranking" friends, and of course, all rankings would be situational, anyways. (If Alys punched...say...Emily in the stomach, I'd tell Alys she's an idiot, despite normally considering her more my cub than Emily. Though it occurs to me I'd probably be gentler on Alys than I would on Emily were their positions reversed.)
On the other...well...there are people I am more protective of than others --not necessarily closer friends, but people I feel it's more important I take care of, often because I tend to consider them mentally younger, and more in need of my protection. (And let me tell you, it is startling as all fuck when they do something that illustrates that they are actually a lot older than they necessarily seem.)
*shrugs*
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Yes. I can say with some confidence that this is the route I took with the strongest example of two people I quite like and care for being stupid to each other.
(no subject)
Apr. 21st, 2009 09:32 pmFour and a half years ago, I was engaging in a mindless little elljay survey "What have you done" sort of life experience thing.
One of the items was "Seen Tori Amos perform live". I was fifteen. I was not especially pop culture savvy. I responded with "Who?"
A few days later, ShadowKevin wrote a post about picking battles, which touched on my offhand answer. He had chosen not to fight that fight, figuring it was ridiculous to force Highly Important Music on the snarky fifteen year old. What he essentially said (either there or in other posts) was that you couldn't force Tori on people. She had to be Found.
He said some other stuff, but what I took away from all of it was that Tori Amos had music that was strong and sad and beautiful and full of cope, and eventually, I would be at a point in my life where I would need her, and at that point I would go find her.
I've held that in the back of my mind for the last four and a half years. I've figured out who exactly Tori is, and what she's for, and yes, I've managed to fall just a little bit in love with her -after I read her introduction to the Sandman comic "Death: The High Cost of Living".
But I've never heard her music. I've never made that effort to Find her, perhaps because I've never needed to Find her. It's not that I've never felt sad and scared and empty and lone, or that I've never needed music to protect me when I'm in that zone. It's just that, I think, I've fond my own safety nets for when that happens.
I've nothing against Tori. I'd be perfectly happy to put her in my "Sad Girls with Pretty Voices" playlist, which is pretty much what I need when I'm in that bad place. But when I cry, when I truly need the music to protect me, I'm first gonna turn to the old protections, the old comforts, those made strong by a year or more of already spilled tears. I've never Needed Tori, because at all those points where I really would, I had someone else to catch me.
She didn't play "The Tower"
And she didn't play "Lullaby for a Stormy Night"
But she did play "Harbor", which was my first, and she did play "City Hall", which makes me cry with the beauty and the sadness of it all, and she did play "Gravity" and she did play lots of new and beautiful songs and wrapped me up in her music and her voice. And so, for a few hours, in the real world (and not just in my head) I was safe.
I saw Vienna Tengyesterday last the other week. Vienna, who has held me through tearstorms and panic attacks, who has let me dance my way back into stability, who's words have wrapped themselves 'round my arms and through my mind. Vienna, who above and beyond anything else she makes me feel, makes me feel incredibly perfectly safe,
Vienna Teng who is my Tori Amos.
And who knows. Maybe there's still time for my brain to break in just the right fashion so that Tori is the only thing I need. I wouldn't mind that. And maybe I'll just find her anyways, where I don't need her at all but am perfectly happy to add her songs to my collection. In the meantime, when I'm broken, and need my music to heal me...I have my resources.
I have Vienna. And that may be all I need.
~Sor
MOOP!
One of the items was "Seen Tori Amos perform live". I was fifteen. I was not especially pop culture savvy. I responded with "Who?"
A few days later, ShadowKevin wrote a post about picking battles, which touched on my offhand answer. He had chosen not to fight that fight, figuring it was ridiculous to force Highly Important Music on the snarky fifteen year old. What he essentially said (either there or in other posts) was that you couldn't force Tori on people. She had to be Found.
He said some other stuff, but what I took away from all of it was that Tori Amos had music that was strong and sad and beautiful and full of cope, and eventually, I would be at a point in my life where I would need her, and at that point I would go find her.
I've held that in the back of my mind for the last four and a half years. I've figured out who exactly Tori is, and what she's for, and yes, I've managed to fall just a little bit in love with her -after I read her introduction to the Sandman comic "Death: The High Cost of Living".
But I've never heard her music. I've never made that effort to Find her, perhaps because I've never needed to Find her. It's not that I've never felt sad and scared and empty and lone, or that I've never needed music to protect me when I'm in that zone. It's just that, I think, I've fond my own safety nets for when that happens.
I've nothing against Tori. I'd be perfectly happy to put her in my "Sad Girls with Pretty Voices" playlist, which is pretty much what I need when I'm in that bad place. But when I cry, when I truly need the music to protect me, I'm first gonna turn to the old protections, the old comforts, those made strong by a year or more of already spilled tears. I've never Needed Tori, because at all those points where I really would, I had someone else to catch me.
She didn't play "The Tower"
And she didn't play "Lullaby for a Stormy Night"
But she did play "Harbor", which was my first, and she did play "City Hall", which makes me cry with the beauty and the sadness of it all, and she did play "Gravity" and she did play lots of new and beautiful songs and wrapped me up in her music and her voice. And so, for a few hours, in the real world (and not just in my head) I was safe.
I saw Vienna Teng
Vienna Teng who is my Tori Amos.
And who knows. Maybe there's still time for my brain to break in just the right fashion so that Tori is the only thing I need. I wouldn't mind that. And maybe I'll just find her anyways, where I don't need her at all but am perfectly happy to add her songs to my collection. In the meantime, when I'm broken, and need my music to heal me...I have my resources.
I have Vienna. And that may be all I need.
~Sor
MOOP!
Two moments with one girl
Apr. 17th, 2009 09:38 pmThis morning, sitting in the sun, the beautiful Georgia belle shivers. "She's cold!" her boyfriend teases as I approach. I do what I find logical, and drape my coat across her shoulders.
"You're such a sweet boyfriend" she says to me in jest. I smile outwardly, sharing the joke, while something inside of me whimpers. I can't always get what I want, but if I try sometimes, I wind up with a friend instead, and that's just as good.
(Just as good)
This evening, chatting during an event. She mentions to her roommate she'll be home at ten. "Not if I kidnap you!" I threaten, trying to keep any tone but friendship out of my voice.
"I might not mind that" she flirts back, and be it outwardly or inwardly, I wince.
So I warn her. "You better be careful, I might start taking you seriously." She laughs, and we discuss for a moment our addictions to flirting. The night trails off; we part ways.
Maybe all I do want is flirting. To court a beautiful woman, treat her in the chivalrous way all people are meant to be treated. Maybe I want more.
Summer's coming soon. We'll see what happens with the fall.
~Sor
MOOP!
"You're such a sweet boyfriend" she says to me in jest. I smile outwardly, sharing the joke, while something inside of me whimpers. I can't always get what I want, but if I try sometimes, I wind up with a friend instead, and that's just as good.
(Just as good)
This evening, chatting during an event. She mentions to her roommate she'll be home at ten. "Not if I kidnap you!" I threaten, trying to keep any tone but friendship out of my voice.
"I might not mind that" she flirts back, and be it outwardly or inwardly, I wince.
So I warn her. "You better be careful, I might start taking you seriously." She laughs, and we discuss for a moment our addictions to flirting. The night trails off; we part ways.
Maybe all I do want is flirting. To court a beautiful woman, treat her in the chivalrous way all people are meant to be treated. Maybe I want more.
Summer's coming soon. We'll see what happens with the fall.
~Sor
MOOP!
(no subject)
Apr. 16th, 2009 05:46 pm(A little more than) Four years ago today, it was 2005, and it was easter. Yay!
Being a non-religious family, Easter has been entirely a holiday for hunting eggs and getting goodies in our easter baskets. Well. This particular year, for whatever reason, the big major non-chocolate goodie was a holyshithuge towel for each of us kids.

Mine was orange.
I've named it (him?) Traw. He is the best towel in the entire world, has visited multiple states (and at least three countries, I do believe) and is more or less the epitome of what Adams was talking about.
So yeah. Yay towel!
~Sor
MOOP!
Being a non-religious family, Easter has been entirely a holiday for hunting eggs and getting goodies in our easter baskets. Well. This particular year, for whatever reason, the big major non-chocolate goodie was a holyshithuge towel for each of us kids.

Mine was orange.
I've named it (him?) Traw. He is the best towel in the entire world, has visited multiple states (and at least three countries, I do believe) and is more or less the epitome of what Adams was talking about.
So yeah. Yay towel!
~Sor
MOOP!
(no subject)
Apr. 15th, 2009 05:53 pmStollen for Active_Apathy, because I like books.
The worst reading experience that you have ever had?
Oof. I am so tempted to just agree with her and say the Catcher in the Rye. I absolutely *hated* Catcher, not the least because, when I read, I pick up the writing style in my internal monologue for a bit. That sucked *so bad*.
The worst actual experience...I don't really know. Nowait! Worst reading experience wasn't actually a reading experience, it was a learning experience. I hadn't bothered to start reading The Great Gatsby for my eleventh grade English class yet, and, ohno, pop quiz. I bluffed my way through, including specifically stating that the main character was the narrator, who's name I couldn't remember. I got a nine out of ten.
That was bad teaching. No student is so scatterbrained to forget Nick Carraway's name if they've actually read the book. Especially considering that I seem to remember it just fine now, three years later.
Also a bad experience? The fact that I really really liked the story of Tale of Two Cities (Doubles! True Love! Revolution!) but just couldn't get through the actual book. I feel really quite guilty about that --I am sorry, oh great and wonderful Sydney Carton!1
( There are sixteen more questions under here )
~Sor
MOOP!
1I think I have such a crush on Sydney Carton. I remember writing an essay on how he was the true romantic hero of Tale of Two Cities. He's probably the second most awesome character I read about in tenth grade --Cyrano de Bergerac is, of course, cooler than the offspring of ZombieJesus and Chuck Norris. And that's pretty fucking cool.
2If you have to ask which one, you don't pay enough attention.
3This is intriguing, because trying to read the name on the spine has just shown that I am better at reading things that are upside down than things that are sideways. I am officially fascinated.
4I love The Dresden Files, and find them a lot of fun, but I can't read more than one at a time. They're just so gloriously intense or something like that.
5And there are apparently sequels out! Squee!
The worst reading experience that you have ever had?
Oof. I am so tempted to just agree with her and say the Catcher in the Rye. I absolutely *hated* Catcher, not the least because, when I read, I pick up the writing style in my internal monologue for a bit. That sucked *so bad*.
The worst actual experience...I don't really know. Nowait! Worst reading experience wasn't actually a reading experience, it was a learning experience. I hadn't bothered to start reading The Great Gatsby for my eleventh grade English class yet, and, ohno, pop quiz. I bluffed my way through, including specifically stating that the main character was the narrator, who's name I couldn't remember. I got a nine out of ten.
That was bad teaching. No student is so scatterbrained to forget Nick Carraway's name if they've actually read the book. Especially considering that I seem to remember it just fine now, three years later.
Also a bad experience? The fact that I really really liked the story of Tale of Two Cities (Doubles! True Love! Revolution!) but just couldn't get through the actual book. I feel really quite guilty about that --I am sorry, oh great and wonderful Sydney Carton!1
( There are sixteen more questions under here )
~Sor
MOOP!
1I think I have such a crush on Sydney Carton. I remember writing an essay on how he was the true romantic hero of Tale of Two Cities. He's probably the second most awesome character I read about in tenth grade --Cyrano de Bergerac is, of course, cooler than the offspring of ZombieJesus and Chuck Norris. And that's pretty fucking cool.
2If you have to ask which one, you don't pay enough attention.
3This is intriguing, because trying to read the name on the spine has just shown that I am better at reading things that are upside down than things that are sideways. I am officially fascinated.
4I love The Dresden Files, and find them a lot of fun, but I can't read more than one at a time. They're just so gloriously intense or something like that.
5And there are apparently sequels out! Squee!
(no subject)
Apr. 13th, 2009 10:54 pmFollowing yesterday's theme of offbeat things fixing my mood, I am feeling better now because I lied to jere7my.
Now, normally, lying to jere7my is a naughty wicked thing and absolutely shouldn't be done. But it was one of those "are you okay?" "yes." lies --not that it makes it better or nothin', but at least I hope you can all understand that it's the sort of lie I tell far too often, and am therefore very used to doing.
He said okay. Trusting my answer, we returned to the dance.
I blinked, and my brain laughed at me. "Well dear" a rather sensible part of it said. "You told him you were okay. I do think that means you have to actually be okay now."
And so I more or less was.
***
As for reasons why my mood was in a not good place, well, the most of those belong in other venues. Stress about classes, and schoolwork and scheduling for next year is one. An interesting analysis of what is lost by the choices I have made is another. Letting my brain slowly piece together all the reasons why I might have failed one particular facet of my life is a very unpleasant third.
None of them are going to go away in the next few days, especially not if my body is going to insist on spewing blood shortly, like I suspect it will. I don't anticipate feeling particularly happy, probably not in more than brief spurts until the summer, but at least I don't seem to feel particularly negative. And in the meantime, there are ferrets and lemon cake, and those are both very very good things indeed.
I'm sure one of these days, the things that make me cry will go back to all being based in myself, and my own poor self-image, rather than in the problems caused by other people and my relationships with them. I look forward to it --while it's never fun to feel hideous and unloved, it's much easier to snap my brain out of it than when I'm trying to comprehend why I feel so hurt in a situation where no one involved has done anything wrong. Tears shed at the fault of others are generally more earned than tears shed at my own faults, or something equally melancholic and poetic.
Have a good evening, my dears.
~Sor
MOOP!
Now, normally, lying to jere7my is a naughty wicked thing and absolutely shouldn't be done. But it was one of those "are you okay?" "yes." lies --not that it makes it better or nothin', but at least I hope you can all understand that it's the sort of lie I tell far too often, and am therefore very used to doing.
He said okay. Trusting my answer, we returned to the dance.
I blinked, and my brain laughed at me. "Well dear" a rather sensible part of it said. "You told him you were okay. I do think that means you have to actually be okay now."
And so I more or less was.
***
As for reasons why my mood was in a not good place, well, the most of those belong in other venues. Stress about classes, and schoolwork and scheduling for next year is one. An interesting analysis of what is lost by the choices I have made is another. Letting my brain slowly piece together all the reasons why I might have failed one particular facet of my life is a very unpleasant third.
None of them are going to go away in the next few days, especially not if my body is going to insist on spewing blood shortly, like I suspect it will. I don't anticipate feeling particularly happy, probably not in more than brief spurts until the summer, but at least I don't seem to feel particularly negative. And in the meantime, there are ferrets and lemon cake, and those are both very very good things indeed.
I'm sure one of these days, the things that make me cry will go back to all being based in myself, and my own poor self-image, rather than in the problems caused by other people and my relationships with them. I look forward to it --while it's never fun to feel hideous and unloved, it's much easier to snap my brain out of it than when I'm trying to comprehend why I feel so hurt in a situation where no one involved has done anything wrong. Tears shed at the fault of others are generally more earned than tears shed at my own faults, or something equally melancholic and poetic.
Have a good evening, my dears.
~Sor
MOOP!
Lemon Cake
Apr. 13th, 2009 05:10 pmScene opens on a bake sale, a long table covered in goodies. Two women approach, one, older, dedicated to supporting the cause. The other, merely curious, trying to learn what's going on.
The girl behind the table turns to the younger. "Would you like anything? It's for a good cause!"
The younger woman stammers, blushing slightly "I'm sorry, I would, but I don't have my wallet..."
"What do you want?" the older woman asks, kindly. She is holding a five dollar bill, offering it to the stranger.
"What, really?" In response, the older woman nods. She was planning to give the money all to the cause anyways. What does it hurt her if fifty cents or a dollar get used on this lost little teenager.
The younger woman gets a slice of lemon cake. The older woman buys oatmeal raisin cookies, and pays for them both. "Keep the change" she says to the girl behind the table.
"Thank you." the younger woman says, taking her cake. The older woman smiles, and they part ways.
It's only later that the younger woman realizes just why she's so flabbergasted --she's spent so much time trying to be nice to other people, that she's forgotten what it feels like when someone's nice to her.
The girl behind the table turns to the younger. "Would you like anything? It's for a good cause!"
The younger woman stammers, blushing slightly "I'm sorry, I would, but I don't have my wallet..."
"What do you want?" the older woman asks, kindly. She is holding a five dollar bill, offering it to the stranger.
"What, really?" In response, the older woman nods. She was planning to give the money all to the cause anyways. What does it hurt her if fifty cents or a dollar get used on this lost little teenager.
The younger woman gets a slice of lemon cake. The older woman buys oatmeal raisin cookies, and pays for them both. "Keep the change" she says to the girl behind the table.
"Thank you." the younger woman says, taking her cake. The older woman smiles, and they part ways.
It's only later that the younger woman realizes just why she's so flabbergasted --she's spent so much time trying to be nice to other people, that she's forgotten what it feels like when someone's nice to her.
(no subject)
Apr. 11th, 2009 09:05 pmSo yeah, like I said earlier, I have 41 new books. They are mostly individual tales, as opposed to collections, but man, are there a lot of them.
***
I have read two Clue books in a row, and now I'm desperately in the mood to write a parody story set in Snowtown1. This has led to quite a bit of assaulting people on IM and going all "YOU! Candlestick, revolver, knife, wrench, lead pipe, or rope?" or "Would you kill Swing if it got you something awesome?" or (in Swing's case) "Is it okay if I kill you for this story? It probably won't be fatal!"
Additonally, I find it alarming just how many Snowtown stories I've written that I am never going to put anywhere where anyone can see them. I don't know how well they fit into canon --I'm pretty sure that the bulk of them are decidedly non-canon, but then there are others that only affect me and my characters (Kinda like every story centering on Hyde besides his first one). Umyeah.
***
The real reason for this post is because, apparently, April 11th is everybody's birthday ever. A very happy birthday to
kirby1024 (who I need to send a thing to),
emp42ress (who I haven't seen in a while due to not-Dieseling, which is sad),
fishymander (Who I've not seen in ages) and the elljayless Dan (YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE SO OLD) and Koob (*hugs, swings him in a circle*)
yeahthat'sall.
~Sor
MOOP!
1Snowtown is a fictional city that is ultimately a pretty shit place to live. The group of people I hang out with regularly on deviantArt and I regularly write stories set there -by this point, we each have an avatar and pretty much all of us have two or three (or more) regular other characters running around there, making it kindof a cross between an unmoderated roleplaying campaign and a collaborative novel. It's a lot of fun.
***
I have read two Clue books in a row, and now I'm desperately in the mood to write a parody story set in Snowtown1. This has led to quite a bit of assaulting people on IM and going all "YOU! Candlestick, revolver, knife, wrench, lead pipe, or rope?" or "Would you kill Swing if it got you something awesome?" or (in Swing's case) "Is it okay if I kill you for this story? It probably won't be fatal!"
Additonally, I find it alarming just how many Snowtown stories I've written that I am never going to put anywhere where anyone can see them. I don't know how well they fit into canon --I'm pretty sure that the bulk of them are decidedly non-canon, but then there are others that only affect me and my characters (Kinda like every story centering on Hyde besides his first one). Umyeah.
***
The real reason for this post is because, apparently, April 11th is everybody's birthday ever. A very happy birthday to
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yeahthat'sall.
~Sor
MOOP!
1Snowtown is a fictional city that is ultimately a pretty shit place to live. The group of people I hang out with regularly on deviantArt and I regularly write stories set there -by this point, we each have an avatar and pretty much all of us have two or three (or more) regular other characters running around there, making it kindof a cross between an unmoderated roleplaying campaign and a collaborative novel. It's a lot of fun.
(no subject)
Apr. 11th, 2009 01:58 amScheissentagzunfixen2009 continues to go well --I baleeted 85 percent or so of my tags with only one use, and I have ten months (out of 65) all tagged up. Yayy or something.
***
I am uncommonly antisocial right now, and have been for a substantial amount of time --at least since Tuesday, possibly since earlier. People = Donotwant.
***
Went to a Vienna Teng concert on Tuesday, which was beautiful and quite needed. Went ahead and bought two of her albums --the brand new one, "Inland Territory", and the second-most-new one, "Dreaming Through the Noise". (Her first two albums I own by..um...magic. Yeah. Magic1. >.>)
"In Another Life" and "Stray Italian Greyhound", both off Inland, were played during the concert and are *fabulous*. I've had "In Another Life" or "Whatever You Want" (Off Dreaming) stuck in my head pretty much all week. It's nice.
And a further essay concerning Vienna is coming, I just need to type it. Additionally, I may write an essay or something about objectification of artists.
***
Tonight, as a present for Maddiecakes birthday, the two of us wandered over to Harvard to listen to Joss Whedon talk, after recieving the highly esteemed and prestigious Lifetime Achievement Award in Cultural Humanism. It was actually a pretty well put together speech, and definitely raised my largely indifferent2 opinion of Joss several notches.
Afterwards, there was signing, so I have a signed Dr. Horrible DVD. Alas, no personalization, due to the sheer volume of people, but still. Joss's autograph. And yes, mom, I told him you said thanks for putting you in the special features.
***
I have been writing like an absolute *fiend* lately. I know that I have a short story, the aforementioned Vienna essay, and most of the third part of my deep stuff night scrawled down, and I may very well have more that I'm forgetting about. One of these days, I really need to learn how to type. :P
***
By the way, in case I've forgotten to squee, in the past month or so, both Iowa and Vermont have made it okay for the gayfolk to marry each other. That makes FOUR STATES that my little sister can get married in. I am so happy about this.
***
Conor and I played about four rounds of Chrononauts the other night, and determined that we want to play/write/whatever a Time Travel rpg. I'm guessing GURPS might be the most valuable resource, but you lot are smart people. Suggestions?
***
I think that's it for now. I'm gonna go sleep.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Part of why there was no question when I got the oppertunity to actually pay money for some of her music. Oh, Vienna! She is very very good, and will get my money as I have it spare.
2: Oh, he's a good writer, no doubt about it. But about the only thing of his that I have raptures over is Dr. Horrible. I...may have a natural reluctance to fawn over the people that every geek ever worships.
***
I am uncommonly antisocial right now, and have been for a substantial amount of time --at least since Tuesday, possibly since earlier. People = Donotwant.
***
Went to a Vienna Teng concert on Tuesday, which was beautiful and quite needed. Went ahead and bought two of her albums --the brand new one, "Inland Territory", and the second-most-new one, "Dreaming Through the Noise". (Her first two albums I own by..um...magic. Yeah. Magic1. >.>)
"In Another Life" and "Stray Italian Greyhound", both off Inland, were played during the concert and are *fabulous*. I've had "In Another Life" or "Whatever You Want" (Off Dreaming) stuck in my head pretty much all week. It's nice.
And a further essay concerning Vienna is coming, I just need to type it. Additionally, I may write an essay or something about objectification of artists.
***
Tonight, as a present for Maddiecakes birthday, the two of us wandered over to Harvard to listen to Joss Whedon talk, after recieving the highly esteemed and prestigious Lifetime Achievement Award in Cultural Humanism. It was actually a pretty well put together speech, and definitely raised my largely indifferent2 opinion of Joss several notches.
Afterwards, there was signing, so I have a signed Dr. Horrible DVD. Alas, no personalization, due to the sheer volume of people, but still. Joss's autograph. And yes, mom, I told him you said thanks for putting you in the special features.
***
I have been writing like an absolute *fiend* lately. I know that I have a short story, the aforementioned Vienna essay, and most of the third part of my deep stuff night scrawled down, and I may very well have more that I'm forgetting about. One of these days, I really need to learn how to type. :P
***
By the way, in case I've forgotten to squee, in the past month or so, both Iowa and Vermont have made it okay for the gayfolk to marry each other. That makes FOUR STATES that my little sister can get married in. I am so happy about this.
***
Conor and I played about four rounds of Chrononauts the other night, and determined that we want to play/write/whatever a Time Travel rpg. I'm guessing GURPS might be the most valuable resource, but you lot are smart people. Suggestions?
***
I think that's it for now. I'm gonna go sleep.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Part of why there was no question when I got the oppertunity to actually pay money for some of her music. Oh, Vienna! She is very very good, and will get my money as I have it spare.
2: Oh, he's a good writer, no doubt about it. But about the only thing of his that I have raptures over is Dr. Horrible. I...may have a natural reluctance to fawn over the people that every geek ever worships.
X Years Ago Today
Apr. 9th, 2009 11:09 pmBecause, you know, it's been a couple days since I've done one.
So, three years ago, it was 2006, and I decided that I hadn't been creepy enough lately or something. So I asked people to describe how they moved and smelled --those little things that the internet just doesn't know anything about.
In the three years...I'm still show-offey, especially in regards to my flexibility and now (depending on the company) my dancing ability. I fidget constantly. My beautiful wonderful ring that I wear day in and day out does not actually stay on my hand if I am doing *anything* involving fine motor skills, including typing, and occasionally gets twirled when I'm just standing around chatting.
I still don't know what I smell like. I've discovered that Dominik is the pinnacle of male smell technology for me --that combination of cigarettes and Austrian gentleman goth and dominance and cologne just combines in the most absolutely amazing of ways. One of my favourite moments of freshman year was when I wound up borrowing a vest for a dance, and had it in my room for a week. Yes, I was creepy enough to just randomly wear it, and take long adoring sniffs.
I've added a handful of other people to my good-smells list, though I still maintain that my nose is not nearly talented enough to pick up on such things.
Yep! ((iirc, the Paul I stole that from had a good boy-smell to him too. Hum. Wish I could remember better.))
Unrelatedly, I've started poking vaguely at the whole scheissentagzunfixen1 thing again. In this particular case, it's involved creating three new shiny tags, inspired largely by the essays I've been writing (and writing and meaning to post)
I-Write-Good-Shit: Personal is kinda a repository for thoughtstreams, and stuff about me. Angsting about crying or getting old or love goes here. (If I think it's good --it's a subjective trope.)
I-Write-Good-Shit: Public is a repository for things that I think of as "essays", despite the fact that most of them aren't written in any proper manner. It also includes things like my discussion of food that so many of you are chagrined by, and other things that are humourous.
The two will eventually (hopefully) comprise a sort of "best-of" look at this journal.
((Ignore the fact that I already have a tag called Past!Sor-is-Awesome. Multiple tags for the same thing is kinda one of defining themes of my personal scheissentagzunfixen.))
The third is just a management tag --it is called Read-The-Sorkin-Manual3, 6 and serves as a user-manual for me and this journal. Eventually, I will simply replace my userinfo with a link to it or something.
Yep.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Scheissentagzunfixen. Rough translation: Your tags are shit, make them better. Coined by the abfab2 Dan4th at some point or another.
2: No, don't worry, you did not actually hear me say that. And definitely not as one word.
3: This is, of course, riffing off the traditional tech support cry of "RTFM!!!". I actually thought about using Read-The-Fucking-Manual at first, but as always4, I'm trying to scout out better words to swear with, ideally ones that can be used in front of my future students. Also, I rather like the idea of swearing in my own name, and it's especially fitting in this context.
It should also be noted that the "k" is a perfectly acceptable spelling of my name --The Katters pronounced my name with a hard c (k sound, sor-key-ress) instead of the soft c (s sound, sor-see-ress) at some point, and I found I rather liked it. So, for future reference, if you see me spell my name Sorcy, or Sorcyress, or Sor Cyress, those are all meant to be with the s sounds, where Sorky or Sorkyress or Sor Kyress are hard sounds.
4: This is legit. I'm a *big* fan of interesting swears. I think this comes out more in my actual speech than in my writing style --I don't feel I type "Son of a cock" or "Son of a priest"5 nearly as often as I say them.
5: Favourite swear ever, no lie. I do occasionally use "Son of a priest, a whore, and a purple *spoon*" when I'm being especially drastic.
6: Taking bets for how long it takes me to typo and wind up with a tag called "Read-The-Sorkin-Manuel" can begin.....now.
ETA: Footnote-Orgy, which does not refer to a post with a lot of footnotes. It merely refers to a post with at least one footnote that stems from a previous footnote. ((Which is why, in the body of this text, the footnotes skip from 3 to 6 --4's source is in footnote 3, and 5's source is in footnote 4.
I may also go ahead and make a "promiscuous footnotes" tag or something like that, for the posts with upwards of five footnotes or something.
So, three years ago, it was 2006, and I decided that I hadn't been creepy enough lately or something. So I asked people to describe how they moved and smelled --those little things that the internet just doesn't know anything about.
In the three years...I'm still show-offey, especially in regards to my flexibility and now (depending on the company) my dancing ability. I fidget constantly. My beautiful wonderful ring that I wear day in and day out does not actually stay on my hand if I am doing *anything* involving fine motor skills, including typing, and occasionally gets twirled when I'm just standing around chatting.
I still don't know what I smell like. I've discovered that Dominik is the pinnacle of male smell technology for me --that combination of cigarettes and Austrian gentleman goth and dominance and cologne just combines in the most absolutely amazing of ways. One of my favourite moments of freshman year was when I wound up borrowing a vest for a dance, and had it in my room for a week. Yes, I was creepy enough to just randomly wear it, and take long adoring sniffs.
I've added a handful of other people to my good-smells list, though I still maintain that my nose is not nearly talented enough to pick up on such things.
Yep! ((iirc, the Paul I stole that from had a good boy-smell to him too. Hum. Wish I could remember better.))
Unrelatedly, I've started poking vaguely at the whole scheissentagzunfixen1 thing again. In this particular case, it's involved creating three new shiny tags, inspired largely by the essays I've been writing (and writing and meaning to post)
I-Write-Good-Shit: Personal is kinda a repository for thoughtstreams, and stuff about me. Angsting about crying or getting old or love goes here. (If I think it's good --it's a subjective trope.)
I-Write-Good-Shit: Public is a repository for things that I think of as "essays", despite the fact that most of them aren't written in any proper manner. It also includes things like my discussion of food that so many of you are chagrined by, and other things that are humourous.
The two will eventually (hopefully) comprise a sort of "best-of" look at this journal.
((Ignore the fact that I already have a tag called Past!Sor-is-Awesome. Multiple tags for the same thing is kinda one of defining themes of my personal scheissentagzunfixen.))
The third is just a management tag --it is called Read-The-Sorkin-Manual3, 6 and serves as a user-manual for me and this journal. Eventually, I will simply replace my userinfo with a link to it or something.
Yep.
~Sor
MOOP!
1: Scheissentagzunfixen. Rough translation: Your tags are shit, make them better. Coined by the abfab2 Dan4th at some point or another.
2: No, don't worry, you did not actually hear me say that. And definitely not as one word.
3: This is, of course, riffing off the traditional tech support cry of "RTFM!!!". I actually thought about using Read-The-Fucking-Manual at first, but as always4, I'm trying to scout out better words to swear with, ideally ones that can be used in front of my future students. Also, I rather like the idea of swearing in my own name, and it's especially fitting in this context.
It should also be noted that the "k" is a perfectly acceptable spelling of my name --The Katters pronounced my name with a hard c (k sound, sor-key-ress) instead of the soft c (s sound, sor-see-ress) at some point, and I found I rather liked it. So, for future reference, if you see me spell my name Sorcy, or Sorcyress, or Sor Cyress, those are all meant to be with the s sounds, where Sorky or Sorkyress or Sor Kyress are hard sounds.
4: This is legit. I'm a *big* fan of interesting swears. I think this comes out more in my actual speech than in my writing style --I don't feel I type "Son of a cock" or "Son of a priest"5 nearly as often as I say them.
5: Favourite swear ever, no lie. I do occasionally use "Son of a priest, a whore, and a purple *spoon*" when I'm being especially drastic.
6: Taking bets for how long it takes me to typo and wind up with a tag called "Read-The-Sorkin-Manuel" can begin.....now.
ETA: Footnote-Orgy, which does not refer to a post with a lot of footnotes. It merely refers to a post with at least one footnote that stems from a previous footnote. ((Which is why, in the body of this text, the footnotes skip from 3 to 6 --4's source is in footnote 3, and 5's source is in footnote 4.
I may also go ahead and make a "promiscuous footnotes" tag or something like that, for the posts with upwards of five footnotes or something.
(no subject)
Jan. 31st, 2009 05:59 pmSo, for those of you that don't know, I took the weekend off from college, and headed down to New Haven to dance too much and hang out with people I wish I knew better. (like the livejournaless Susan dG and
aetherexplorer)
I'm currently between last nights Elm City Waltz (which felt more like dancing at the Conservatory or Oella than anything else I've done outside of Maryland, save not knowing much of anyone there) and a cotillion of assorted German dances, that, among other things, apparently involves kazoos.
And a dance called Swallow Swallow.
Can I just say that I am pretty happy that I've somehow begun to become a part of the vintage dance community? This makes me a very happyKat. Of course, the flip side is I now need to learn how to sew so I can make costuming. Sigh.
(This has been the flip side for the last year or two. Eventually I will stop whining and get a sewing machine.)
Annnndyes. Raven and I are playing internet, so that's plenty distracting. Talk to you lot later.
~Sor
MOOP!
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
I'm currently between last nights Elm City Waltz (which felt more like dancing at the Conservatory or Oella than anything else I've done outside of Maryland, save not knowing much of anyone there) and a cotillion of assorted German dances, that, among other things, apparently involves kazoos.
And a dance called Swallow Swallow.
Can I just say that I am pretty happy that I've somehow begun to become a part of the vintage dance community? This makes me a very happyKat. Of course, the flip side is I now need to learn how to sew so I can make costuming. Sigh.
(This has been the flip side for the last year or two. Eventually I will stop whining and get a sewing machine.)
Annnndyes. Raven and I are playing internet, so that's plenty distracting. Talk to you lot later.
~Sor
MOOP!
X years Ago Today
Jan. 31st, 2009 03:10 amFour years ago today, it was 2005. And some shit went down in a chatroom.
The long story short was that my planet, MOOP! (which was then far more tied in to my emotional stability than it is now) got half melted. This is largely because Mallory Alis had returned to my brain, and got into a fight with someone stronger than her. Basic effects were just somewhat of a loss of stability for a bit, not aided by the loss of the internet that came to me six days later. These conditions -broken, able to get on the computer but not the web, and with a brand new guardian to try and protect me- were what got me to start the original BehindtheWalls file --more about that on the sixth.
The real lasting effect was that Alis had returned, as it were, in the incarnation she remains now. Also, it puts Gabriel's age at more than four years, since he was definitely around before she showed up.
For those of you going "um, who?" Alis and Gabriel are two of the three denizens who live in my head and talk to me. If you're familiar with the idea of multiples, it's a little like that (though I refuse to give up control), but basically, they are the voices in my head that keep me sane and safe. Hyde, the third denizen, is the voice in my head that tells me to kill, but can you really expect better from a serial killer?
The denizens are pretty cool folk, and interestingly enough, they have been wicked active lately, for no reason I can really suss out. Usually it takes me hanging out with other people with named voices for them to come out and play, lately, they've been talking to me much more often, and wanting to talk to and interact with the rest of the world as well.
As with most things about myself, I am just fine with answering any and all questions about the three of 'em. Butyes. I like my denizens, and am happy they're around.
~Sor
MOOP!
The long story short was that my planet, MOOP! (which was then far more tied in to my emotional stability than it is now) got half melted. This is largely because Mallory Alis had returned to my brain, and got into a fight with someone stronger than her. Basic effects were just somewhat of a loss of stability for a bit, not aided by the loss of the internet that came to me six days later. These conditions -broken, able to get on the computer but not the web, and with a brand new guardian to try and protect me- were what got me to start the original BehindtheWalls file --more about that on the sixth.
The real lasting effect was that Alis had returned, as it were, in the incarnation she remains now. Also, it puts Gabriel's age at more than four years, since he was definitely around before she showed up.
For those of you going "um, who?" Alis and Gabriel are two of the three denizens who live in my head and talk to me. If you're familiar with the idea of multiples, it's a little like that (though I refuse to give up control), but basically, they are the voices in my head that keep me sane and safe. Hyde, the third denizen, is the voice in my head that tells me to kill, but can you really expect better from a serial killer?
The denizens are pretty cool folk, and interestingly enough, they have been wicked active lately, for no reason I can really suss out. Usually it takes me hanging out with other people with named voices for them to come out and play, lately, they've been talking to me much more often, and wanting to talk to and interact with the rest of the world as well.
As with most things about myself, I am just fine with answering any and all questions about the three of 'em. Butyes. I like my denizens, and am happy they're around.
~Sor
MOOP!