That's right: Obama is a verb now.
So I totally Obama'd a fly today. I felt kind of bad about it, actually, because I'd only meant to shoo it away from the touch screen, but I guess I flicked my finger too hard and at a bad angle, and wound up pinning one of the fly's legs to the screen while the rest of the fly sort of tumbled to the ground in a daze. And then one of my second-graders picked it up while his cohorts urged him to rip off its wings, and then I squooshed it.
That is all.
That is all.
Entry tags:
Memes + icons = my two loves, wat
Here, have a meme:
01. Comment to this entry saying 'ICONS!' and I will pick 6 of your icons.
02. Make an entry in your own journal and talk about the icons I picked!
Mein responses:
( magi's picks )
( L's picks )
01. Comment to this entry saying 'ICONS!' and I will pick 6 of your icons.
02. Make an entry in your own journal and talk about the icons I picked!
Mein responses:
( magi's picks )
( L's picks )
Entry tags:
(no subject)
supermarket guy: Where do you live?
me: ...here.
supermarket guy: No, WHERE?
me: In Hwasun.
supermarket guy: No, WHERE in Hwasun?
me: JUST HWASUN.
No, nosy supermarket guy, I will not appease your smalltown curiosity.
me: ...here.
supermarket guy: No, WHERE?
me: In Hwasun.
supermarket guy: No, WHERE in Hwasun?
me: JUST HWASUN.
No, nosy supermarket guy, I will not appease your smalltown curiosity.
Entry tags:
(no subject)
I forgot to mention this really whacked out dream I had. It started out in nighttime, where a friend and I were in some foreign country, possibly somewhere in southeast Asia. I approached a small family who was letting me stay with them and tried to communicate something to the dad--I think that I had a bag of marshmallows to offer him? Which he gestured to mash up and throw into the sleeping grandmother's hair.
And then it evolved into something long and complicated involving a kidnapping and a small get-together in a cozy apartment during a stormy night and an escape from a psych ward and me not wanting to drown my friends for betraying me... I tried to remember it in the morning, before I was fully awake, and damned if it isn't gone already.
And then it evolved into something long and complicated involving a kidnapping and a small get-together in a cozy apartment during a stormy night and an escape from a psych ward and me not wanting to drown my friends for betraying me... I tried to remember it in the morning, before I was fully awake, and damned if it isn't gone already.
Entry tags:
Transmission from the Bebop.
At last, it is MY turn to write a bittersweet "nothing gold can stay" post. Yes, I pretty much slunk out of Iowa City without making a big to-do about it. I don't believe in goodbyes, I believe in see-you-laters. Can I imagine a future that doesn't have you in it? Of course I can; I'm a writer; I have a pretty good imagination. It's that grey and wholly uninteresting place I have absolutely no intention of inhabiting long term.
Because we're family now. Because we've played together and worked together and gone to class and eaten and traveled and shopped and bitched and laughed and cried and drunk and fallen asleep (not blacked out!) and driven through storms together. Because I've never had to get pierced or inked alone. Because we had shower parties and study parties and hairdye parties and hey-it's-Friday-so-let's-throw-a-party parties. Because we waged war on Asian ladybugs. Because we watched in deepening horror as John Kerry's decapitated head performed cunnilingus on a bubbleheaded co-ed whilst our benevolently sadistic RA watched our faces and laughed with boyish delight. Because we had Midnight Breakfast dressed like pirates. Because we braved the crowds to see Noam Chomsky, and the Dresden Dolls, and Cobra Starship, and Murder By Death, and every nerdy and/or awesome independent film released in the vicinity. Because we packed upwards of 15 people into our dorm room to watch Project Runway. Because we smuggled hamsters into said dorm rooms. Because we sat in the hallway, impeding foot traffic and gabbing until the wee hours of morning despite our perfectly viable bedrooms and lounge mere feet away. Because we raved. Because we played board/card/video/nerdy writerly games all the time. Because we roamed about campus and town in a great amoebic mass, occupying half a city bus / Z'Mariks / Java Juice. Because we had Coffee Night, and the Bitchcraft Coven, and Ghost Comma, and Secret Santa, and Old Chicago, and Tiger Gang Barracuda Zombie Club. Because we all dressed up for Hallowe'en. Because we are the philosophers who query, At what point does a lie become incestuous?
This time next week I'll be starting my new life in Korea. I'm excited about the future. I can't wait to meet it. But I'm pretty sure that I won't ever again meet such a huge swarm of people nearly as smart or crazy or fierce. I doubt that anyone else in the world will ever be able to understand me half as well. Which is why, though you may think you've gotten rid of me, you're sadly mistaken.
You'll never be free.
Never.
Because we're family now. Because we've played together and worked together and gone to class and eaten and traveled and shopped and bitched and laughed and cried and drunk and fallen asleep (not blacked out!) and driven through storms together. Because I've never had to get pierced or inked alone. Because we had shower parties and study parties and hairdye parties and hey-it's-Friday-so-let's-throw-a-party parties. Because we waged war on Asian ladybugs. Because we watched in deepening horror as John Kerry's decapitated head performed cunnilingus on a bubbleheaded co-ed whilst our benevolently sadistic RA watched our faces and laughed with boyish delight. Because we had Midnight Breakfast dressed like pirates. Because we braved the crowds to see Noam Chomsky, and the Dresden Dolls, and Cobra Starship, and Murder By Death, and every nerdy and/or awesome independent film released in the vicinity. Because we packed upwards of 15 people into our dorm room to watch Project Runway. Because we smuggled hamsters into said dorm rooms. Because we sat in the hallway, impeding foot traffic and gabbing until the wee hours of morning despite our perfectly viable bedrooms and lounge mere feet away. Because we raved. Because we played board/card/video/nerdy writerly games all the time. Because we roamed about campus and town in a great amoebic mass, occupying half a city bus / Z'Mariks / Java Juice. Because we had Coffee Night, and the Bitchcraft Coven, and Ghost Comma, and Secret Santa, and Old Chicago, and Tiger Gang Barracuda Zombie Club. Because we all dressed up for Hallowe'en. Because we are the philosophers who query, At what point does a lie become incestuous?
This time next week I'll be starting my new life in Korea. I'm excited about the future. I can't wait to meet it. But I'm pretty sure that I won't ever again meet such a huge swarm of people nearly as smart or crazy or fierce. I doubt that anyone else in the world will ever be able to understand me half as well. Which is why, though you may think you've gotten rid of me, you're sadly mistaken.
You'll never be free.
Never.
Entry tags:
The drawings on the walls
1) Post ten of any pictures currently on your hard drive that you think are self-expressive.
2) NO CAPTIONS!!! It must be like we're speaking with images and we have to interpret your visual language just like we have to interpret your words.
3) They must ALREADY be on your hard drive - no googling or flickr! They have to have been saved to your folders sometime in the past. They must be something you've saved there because it resonated with you for some reason.
4) You do NOT have to answer any questions about any of your pictures if you don't want to. You can make them as mysterious as you like. Or you can explain them away as much as you like.
( Ten THOUSAND words! )
2) NO CAPTIONS!!! It must be like we're speaking with images and we have to interpret your visual language just like we have to interpret your words.
3) They must ALREADY be on your hard drive - no googling or flickr! They have to have been saved to your folders sometime in the past. They must be something you've saved there because it resonated with you for some reason.
4) You do NOT have to answer any questions about any of your pictures if you don't want to. You can make them as mysterious as you like. Or you can explain them away as much as you like.
( Ten THOUSAND words! )
Entry tags:
Give us your blood.
So I went shopping the other day with ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thiefofvoices and magistrate.
me: Hey, would you happen to have any spare blood we could have?
meat guy at the Co-Op: Uh, I think there's some left. It's beef blood though. That all right?
me: ::looks at L, shrugs::
L: ::looks at me, shrugs::
me: Yeah, sure.
meat guy: If you'd called this morning, I could've given you a whole cup of the stuff. So what do you want this for?
other meat guys: Sacrifices!
me: ::looks at L:: ...
L: ::looks at me:: ...
me: Ummm...
meat guy: Never mind, I don't want to know. Here, free of charge.
thiefofvoices and magistrate.me: Hey, would you happen to have any spare blood we could have?
meat guy at the Co-Op: Uh, I think there's some left. It's beef blood though. That all right?
me: ::looks at L, shrugs::
L: ::looks at me, shrugs::
me: Yeah, sure.
meat guy: If you'd called this morning, I could've given you a whole cup of the stuff. So what do you want this for?
other meat guys: Sacrifices!
me: ::looks at L:: ...
L: ::looks at me:: ...
me: Ummm...
meat guy: Never mind, I don't want to know. Here, free of charge.
Entry tags:
Dear Twats of the Internet,
Leaping to publicly humiliate someone for incorrect conjugation before bothering to read to the part where the OP states s/he lives in a country whose official language is something other than English? Asinine.
Entry tags:
That sneaky kid with the hair
BECAUSE I HAVE A LIFE, I made a mosaic. Of my hair. Gaze, GAZE upon my colossal waste of time. I just bought a box of blue-black hair dye so as to mollify my new future employers, and I'm less than pleased at the prospect of returning to a semi-natural hair color for the foreseeable future. :T
Aaand 'cause I realized I forgot to include my current hair color, I made an icon of it. Which you can see ::points to upper left-hand corner:: there. S'probably my favorite color thus far. YES I REALIZE HOW SAD THIS IS. SHADDUP.
Aaand 'cause I realized I forgot to include my current hair color, I made an icon of it. Which you can see ::points to upper left-hand corner:: there. S'probably my favorite color thus far. YES I REALIZE HOW SAD THIS IS. SHADDUP.
Entry tags:
Motivate me
Motivational posters. Kinda love 'em.
I made this one while taking a genre-specific writing workshop in which it became increasingly evident that some folks didn't know what speculative fiction entailed.
( Here are some of my favorites. )
What're yours?
I made this one while taking a genre-specific writing workshop in which it became increasingly evident that some folks didn't know what speculative fiction entailed.
( Here are some of my favorites. )
What're yours?
Entry tags:
They're tears of happiness, really.
AUGH, so my Stop Spending Money, Stupid plan kicks into action (again)... nnnow! Now. Right now. I've eaten out three times in the past week. Got groceries. AND BLEW MOST OF MY WRITERLY MONIES ON PLUGS.
( LOOK AT THEM. SEE HOW SHINY. )
I guess it's a good thing I couldn't fob off my (last!) shift tomorrow. Though I do not look forward to walking to work in 90-degree weather. I'll at least make back maybe half of what i just spent D: Who am I kidding, no one wants to go out and about in this horrible heat.
Some recent keyboard smashing has resulted in a 20-page one-shot comic script, which me old friend is in the process of illustrating. I am currently writing another, probably longer script, which was meant to be a horror story but morphed inexorably into a cheerful romp of a thing and is now regaining some dark 'n' gory elements. I'm kind of really excited about this one, because it focuses on characters that haven't been rattling around in my brainpan for half my life, and loosely ties into another series I've been mulling over for a few years, but only in such a way that will be evident if you read the novels. Which I haven't written. Hah.
Know what I've realized? I don't have a single story to which I know the ending that ends on a purely happy note. I don't even know why. It's bittersweet at best. Except this one, I hope.
( LOOK AT THEM. SEE HOW SHINY. )
I guess it's a good thing I couldn't fob off my (last!) shift tomorrow. Though I do not look forward to walking to work in 90-degree weather. I'll at least make back maybe half of what i just spent D: Who am I kidding, no one wants to go out and about in this horrible heat.
Some recent keyboard smashing has resulted in a 20-page one-shot comic script, which me old friend is in the process of illustrating. I am currently writing another, probably longer script, which was meant to be a horror story but morphed inexorably into a cheerful romp of a thing and is now regaining some dark 'n' gory elements. I'm kind of really excited about this one, because it focuses on characters that haven't been rattling around in my brainpan for half my life, and loosely ties into another series I've been mulling over for a few years, but only in such a way that will be evident if you read the novels. Which I haven't written. Hah.
Know what I've realized? I don't have a single story to which I know the ending that ends on a purely happy note. I don't even know why. It's bittersweet at best. Except this one, I hope.
Entry tags:
Rorschach v. Wolverine
Who knew that action figures having a pissing contest (not literally) could be so endearing?
Evidently part of a series. XD
Evidently part of a series. XD
Entry tags:
Stand with free Iran
So, if you've been awake at any point during the past week or so, you're probably already aware that there's some serious shit going down in Iran.
I'll be posting links to relevant pages as I find them. Please feel free to comment with links, videos, and images of your own.
A question that I have heard several times is this simple one: Do the Americans know what is happening here? They don’t complaint, but they want to know if the silence is politics or indifference or... One said, I hope the diplomats in Europe don’t sell us cheap.
One comment made by a couple of them, and this is directed at people inside and outside Iran, is tough to take: ‘it seems that we are all alone.’ -- Abbas Djavadi’s Blog
Iran bars foreign media from reporting on streets | The rules cover all journalists, including Iranians working for foreign media. It blocks images and eyewitness descriptions of the protests and violence that has followed last week’s disputed elections.
The Big Picture: News Stories in Photographs | Iran's Disputed Election, 41 (large) images of the largest street protests and rioting since the 1979 Iranian Revolution.
Daily Photos from Iran | Tehran 24 is a photoblog of Tehran (Capital of Iran) Daily Images from every where of this Metropolis. It contains streets,buildings,shopping centers,parks,views and all corners of Tehran.
From Tehran: Iranian Students | ...a few students in Tehran... confirmed that the attack on their dormitory was brutal, destructive, and the authorities may have taken as many as 100 students with them. In Tehran, one faculty told me, the security forces had thrown some student off a building.
CNN - State Department to Twitter: Keep Iranian tweets coming | officials say the internet, and specifically social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook, are providing the United States with critical information in the face of a crackdown on journalists by Iranian authorities.
The Green Revolution: How to Help | So you want to help Iran, but you're not actually in Iran? here's what you can do to help (Focused on twitter, since that's where the infowar is occurring.)
Boing Boing--Cyberwar guide for Iran elections | Yishay sez, "The road to hell is paved with the best intentions (including mine). Learn how to actually help the protesters and not the gov't in Iran."
Solidarity with Iran: Wear Green! | [W]e have our own American experience of stolen elections and their disastrous results. First I want to recommend an action that is simple, that is not likely to bring political change in the short run, but can remind ourselves of who we are and who the people of Iran are: WEAR GREEN -- A SHIRT, A TIE, A SCARF, A RIBBON.
دنیارابگوییدچطورآنهاانتخاباتمان دزدیده اند
Tell the world how they have stolen our election
I'll be posting links to relevant pages as I find them. Please feel free to comment with links, videos, and images of your own.
A question that I have heard several times is this simple one: Do the Americans know what is happening here? They don’t complaint, but they want to know if the silence is politics or indifference or... One said, I hope the diplomats in Europe don’t sell us cheap.
One comment made by a couple of them, and this is directed at people inside and outside Iran, is tough to take: ‘it seems that we are all alone.’ -- Abbas Djavadi’s Blog
Iran bars foreign media from reporting on streets | The rules cover all journalists, including Iranians working for foreign media. It blocks images and eyewitness descriptions of the protests and violence that has followed last week’s disputed elections.
The Big Picture: News Stories in Photographs | Iran's Disputed Election, 41 (large) images of the largest street protests and rioting since the 1979 Iranian Revolution.
Daily Photos from Iran | Tehran 24 is a photoblog of Tehran (Capital of Iran) Daily Images from every where of this Metropolis. It contains streets,buildings,shopping centers,parks,views and all corners of Tehran.
From Tehran: Iranian Students | ...a few students in Tehran... confirmed that the attack on their dormitory was brutal, destructive, and the authorities may have taken as many as 100 students with them. In Tehran, one faculty told me, the security forces had thrown some student off a building.
CNN - State Department to Twitter: Keep Iranian tweets coming | officials say the internet, and specifically social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook, are providing the United States with critical information in the face of a crackdown on journalists by Iranian authorities.
The Green Revolution: How to Help | So you want to help Iran, but you're not actually in Iran? here's what you can do to help (Focused on twitter, since that's where the infowar is occurring.)
Boing Boing--Cyberwar guide for Iran elections | Yishay sez, "The road to hell is paved with the best intentions (including mine). Learn how to actually help the protesters and not the gov't in Iran."
Solidarity with Iran: Wear Green! | [W]e have our own American experience of stolen elections and their disastrous results. First I want to recommend an action that is simple, that is not likely to bring political change in the short run, but can remind ourselves of who we are and who the people of Iran are: WEAR GREEN -- A SHIRT, A TIE, A SCARF, A RIBBON.
دنیارابگوییدچطورآنهاانتخاباتمان دزدیده اند
Tell the world how they have stolen our election
Entry tags:
Adventures in hamcare
The saga begins when I noticed a rather large, flesh-colored lump on Pipkin's belly. I took hm to Bright Eyes, Bushy Tails, where a vet divined through the dark arts of modern medicine that the lump was, in fact, a tumor. We scheduled a lumpectomy, and I went to Chicago for less than a week, and when I returned it was to find to my horror that the lump had grown visibly. I don't have any photos of Tyrannolumpus Rex, because Pipkin is a squirmy bastard. But it was easily the size of my thumbnail.
So off we went--that is, Kara, who ought to be nominated for sainthood for driving Pipkin and me at the ass-o'-clock in the morning to get a little hammy operation.
Here he is in his ad hoc ambulance, with the special purple bedding thatsai12 bought for him a couple months ago.
And here with a delicious Yogie, also supplied bysai12, and an apple treat.
At one point he bumped his head on the water spout and was liberally dampened. I plopped him on the roof of his hambulance so he could show off his punky 'do.
We left him at the vet's for a few hours, then were called back at around noon to pick him up. The incredibly reassuring, delightful folks at BE,BT called my ornery little friend "sweet." I kind of wish I could have seen him all zonked out and deceptively docile, but alas. He was still recovering from the anesthetic, I think, because he protested less than usual when the kindly vetlady picked him up to show me his stitches.
( Mildly gory stitchery within. )
I took him home with a baggie of pain meds and instructions to keep him separated from Gulliver. Poor Gully--he's never been alone this long in his entire life!
In protest of this isolation, or perhaps to feign additional occupancy of his cage, Gulliver built a nest up on the platform.
Then, in a fit of pique, he shoved some bedding through the bars, and ontofloraldeoderant's brand new EeePC.
Meanwhile, Pipkin spent most of his days sleeping and gnawing on giant foodstuffs--sometimes, as it appears in this photo, simultaneously.
While I tried to squirt painkillers into his mouth every 12 hours. The little jerk fastidiously avoided drinking most of it, but he didn't seem especially pain-y.
The good folks at BE,BT called recently to check up on Pipkin's progress. I'll know in a few days if the tumor was malignant or benign. Fingers crossed that this crotchety little fellow still has a good year on him.
So off we went--that is, Kara, who ought to be nominated for sainthood for driving Pipkin and me at the ass-o'-clock in the morning to get a little hammy operation.
Here he is in his ad hoc ambulance, with the special purple bedding that
sai12 bought for him a couple months ago.And here with a delicious Yogie, also supplied by
sai12, and an apple treat.At one point he bumped his head on the water spout and was liberally dampened. I plopped him on the roof of his hambulance so he could show off his punky 'do.
We left him at the vet's for a few hours, then were called back at around noon to pick him up. The incredibly reassuring, delightful folks at BE,BT called my ornery little friend "sweet." I kind of wish I could have seen him all zonked out and deceptively docile, but alas. He was still recovering from the anesthetic, I think, because he protested less than usual when the kindly vetlady picked him up to show me his stitches.
( Mildly gory stitchery within. )
I took him home with a baggie of pain meds and instructions to keep him separated from Gulliver. Poor Gully--he's never been alone this long in his entire life!
In protest of this isolation, or perhaps to feign additional occupancy of his cage, Gulliver built a nest up on the platform.
Then, in a fit of pique, he shoved some bedding through the bars, and onto
floraldeoderant's brand new EeePC.Meanwhile, Pipkin spent most of his days sleeping and gnawing on giant foodstuffs--sometimes, as it appears in this photo, simultaneously.
While I tried to squirt painkillers into his mouth every 12 hours. The little jerk fastidiously avoided drinking most of it, but he didn't seem especially pain-y.
The good folks at BE,BT called recently to check up on Pipkin's progress. I'll know in a few days if the tumor was malignant or benign. Fingers crossed that this crotchety little fellow still has a good year on him.
Entry tags:
Izzameme.
O hay. Memetiemz. Have removed the questions dependent on an original poster-respondent rapport. Too lazy to replace them with my own. :P
( I stole this. )
( I stole this. )
Entry tags:
My story starts at sea... the wild waters roar and heave
I like living near trees, if only because in the morning, when through my open window I hear the sound of wind rushing through the leaves, my sleep-addled brain can misinterpret it as the sound of waves rushing up a shore. An illusion that is spoiled nowadays more often than not by the inexplicably bovine bellows of my neighbors in the apartment complex three feet from mine.
I am convinced that they just like making noise.
Anyway, have a video about the woes of Korean pianists. I felt like this a lot when I was still thumping away at our studio piano, and occasionally on the baby grand in the dorms. Except I was mostly murdering Beethoven and the theme songs to animes, and not attempting Rachmaninoff. That shit's liable to drive you nuts.
I am convinced that they just like making noise.
Anyway, have a video about the woes of Korean pianists. I felt like this a lot when I was still thumping away at our studio piano, and occasionally on the baby grand in the dorms. Except I was mostly murdering Beethoven and the theme songs to animes, and not attempting Rachmaninoff. That shit's liable to drive you nuts.