x_los: (Default)
I got a short term TEFL job with a mixed group of Russians (14-18, different abilities and interest levels, seemingly REALLY uneven general education/functional skills levels). It pays nicely, but is some of the hardest work I've ever done. Getting easier as it goes along, though--I'm REALLY learning a lot about teaching and dealing with educational infrastructure (baaaaad).

So I pulled full days (up at 7:30, on the bus by 8, an hour and then some across town on series of busses, printing materials and copying by 9:15 or 9:30, teaching 10 to 5 with an hour's lunch and no breaks, then busses home, then working on reviews/the domestic chores I can catch/ALL the Scheme of Work planning in the world b/c I have no curriculum design experience AT ALL) until I pass out, and falling behind grossly on some things in an effort to keep up with the things I red-hot MUST do. Last thursday, friday and saturday: work. Saturday night and Sunday: guests from out of town. Sunday: Katy's mother and brother were over, lots of food prep, some overdue cleaning, figuring out how the sewing machine worked. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of this week: work, same tomorrow. Friday's a weird half day of proctoring speaking and listening exams. The TEFL institution's organizers are painfully bad at communicating/plans, so we'll see how this all goes.

So I've been painfully, exhaustingly busy, in a fighting-to-keep-head-above-water oh-god-wtf-am-I-doing sort of way, and my one day off really wasn't, but I'm looking forward to just COLLAPSING on Saturday, until the next job comes along with these guys. Rent's paid for the next couple of months on this alone (I live pretty frugal, it's paid pretty decently). It's GOOD CV fodder.

Also, back to aps Saturday. My paraprofessional librarian interview two weeks ago didn't succeed, apparently by a narrow margin. I wasn't good enough at predicting and practicing for their questions I feel, ultimately. They caught me off guard by asking how I'd deal with a vocational school environment. Er, by treating the pupils with the respect and dignity I hope to afford to everyone because going to proper Uni doesn't magically make you a Real Person, I guess? Idfk. I said something along the lines of coming from a family with an entirely vocational background and being very used to that (which is true: of the family I was raised believing I was a member of (bio doesn't really count on this one as he entered in the late stages of my life) I'm the first lady with a degree, and the first anything with a postgraduate degree. So yeah, all my family: jewelers, computer techs, tinkerers, salespeople. Vocational learning: down with it. But I think that sounded rather 'some of my best friends'. In the moment I couldn't really swing it around and make it work without having... thought about that as an objection they might have to me ahead of time.

WHY IS LITERARY FAME SO UNPREDICTABLE?: man lots of this is just stupid bullshit
Cheerio freelance writers
THE CENSUS AND THE SOCIAL CONSTRUCTION OF RACE
Race and ethnicity in the United States Census
We-Sorts
Gay superheroes: Holy cow! Why is everyone in a hurry to out Batman?
Watch Nate Smith's Hilarious "Hot Rom Comedy White Guy" Impressions
8 words that may not mean what you think they mean: meh--corrective linguistics not aimed at the preservation of the greatest possible flexibility/utility of the language is always balls-out stupid. Like, *France* stupid (their attempts to police and ossify their language: lulzy forever).
Free To Be... Straight White Males
D’Angelo Learns How It Feels to be Objectified, and It Doesn’t Feel Good
Ha ha, boys – nature wants you to chase the short, dopy ones
Hairy English
Counting Down Dickens' Greatest Novels. Number 5: Our Mutual Friend
x_los: (Four by Toulouse-Lautrec)
I am loving Bleak House and half way through and making with the tears and shit but god YET ANOTHER WOMAN is like OH ESTHER I LOVE YOU--is Bleak House a porn? Because it seems like everyone's just here to deliver pizza or whatever, and suddenly, for no reason all. over. the main. female. Debbie Does Dallas was more believable/less obsessed with everyone being into Debbie/the Cheerleaders. I'm listening to it on audio and I just want a BOW CHIKKA BOW WOOOOOOW when the ACTUAL 'sexy french maid who used to be in love with your mom!! until your mom ditched her for a hot younger woman' rolls in to be like OH ESTHER--YOU DO IT FOR ME.

Eugh--this job, with this ap that took FOR FUCKING EVER (it was like, 5 essay questions, 2 forms, a special for-them cv with like 1000 words extra and a cover letter, all edited by Katy, and then by the QM job lady who was nice enough to look over them, then me again, then Katy again), closed today. I turned my ap in on time, and like two hours later--"sorry, we already filled this vacancy." Dude, like, take your ad down when you fill that shit. Don't waste my time. Also--why select someone before your official closing day? You clearly didn't fill it like an hour ago. Whatevs. Waste of tiiiiime. Also why the fuck is that like, acceptable to ask someone to do for a basic admin position? Or even helpful for you to know as an employer? But the academic admin positions are /all like that/, and not copy and pastable, for the most part, really--not without serious rewriting, anyway.

Also migraine.

The Bachelorette is Racist Against Interesting People
Queen Latifah and the Case for Not Coming Out
Straight White Male: The Lowest Difficulty Setting There Is
The Dictator: Rape Jokes Are The New Rape Jokes
Plots from the unaired 8th season of Star Trek: The Next Generation: "TNG Season 8 ‏ @TNG_S8
Worf is trapped in a holodeck version of The Odyssey. Data & Geordi throw an epic party, have to hide the evidence before Picard gets home."

"TNG Season 8 ‏ @TNG_S8
Wesley's dino experiment mistakenly mixes with Riker's beard DNA, creating the sexy-but-dangerous Velociriker. Troi's mom tries to marry it."--totally true plot of a star trek episode

"TNG Season 8 ‏ @TNG_S8
Wes gets trapped in a bunker with an obnoxious child king. Riker wakes up on Risa with a lower back tattoo and no memory of his last 3 days."--and that

China Mieville: Punchable?
Matthew Norman: Blame the Greeks. They invented democracy
America’s Finest Educators Dance Bomb Their Students
Tig Notaro - Taylor Dayne
x_los: (Russian Church)
Badger was over all weekend. Watched most of A:EMH S1, which largely holds up on rewatch. Never sure if Wakanda is doing something cool in imagining an isolationist G8-bitch-slapping world-power African nation that challenges viewers' basic colonialist assumptions, or if Wakanda is simply a weird amalgam of African stereotypes that's simultaneously doing positive and racist things. I think a bit of both, though obviously the second possibility sort of admits the first.

Lost a lot of games, which disappoints me a bit. Normally Katy and I do about equally well, and this weekend we did about equally poorly, both in Carcassone and Tigris and Euphrates. Kind of want to play a game I know I'm fine at to regain mojo and feel generally better. Haven't won anything since Trivial Pursuit like two weeks ago, I don't think, despite since playing 3 games of Carcassone, a game of London, and a game of T&E. This is unusual and more annoying than it should be, given am grown ass woman and, like Dar Williams says, cooler than this. Wish I were generally less twitchy and neurotic about feeling dumb. On the plus side, getting more used to T&E, and may not actually hate it! Still don't know about that Caylus (the game, not the founder of the Klingon warrior code). It seems crap, but might /not/ be, if we played with an additional person.

Cleaned up all the lingering photos on my computer, deleted what I didn't need, and popped anything potentially relevant onto fb. If by relevant you mean 'a picture of Sasa looking unspeakable stupid'.

Made pizzas with Robin. She did nice bases, but must remember these take longer to cook through than plain Morrisons cardboard wafers, and as such need like 18 min, perhaps. Also made meatloaf with roastinis and optional mushroom gravy on the side, combining Nigella's technique with the Joy of Cooking 'making it actually taste of anything'. For Nigella's bacon wrap, I have GOT to remember to use more bacon than I did, and to actually swaddle it around the sides/top it generously, so things don't curl up in this niggardly fashion.

Today I applied for like 6 McDonald's level food service jobs. Modified my food!CV and wrote individual cover letters. Created a profile on a childcare site and addressed a question to a specific job-poster. Doing half and half hours-long academic admin and quicker basic NEED SOME MONEY TO LIVE!! job aps now.

Also finished edits for P4 and asked Katy to shift scenes around according to her editoral whim. Reading it through tomorrow, so she can do the same, I can make last changes, and hopefully we can have the draft out to people late Monday night, so they'll have some time/two days before the readthrough to look it over.

Showed the house Friday and today. Have another person tomorrow. Put up everything possible for ebay free listings. Cleaned the hell out of the house Friday, and did some more today.

I listened to all the music mock-ups the composing staff have done for the radio plays last night, and some of it was awesomely good. One of the main character themes sounds sooomewhat like American McGee's Alice's soundtrack. I'm on the whole really impressed with the professionalism, and with the sort of--reality of the project? Composers!! We met with them, I gave feedback, they worked MAGIC!! with scores and bullshit, I gave feedback, music baby was formed. It's part power and also like, part kind of--awe? It's a fanproject, I know, but there's something awesome
about like, a total thing coming together, and being made where there was nothing, and developing it cradle to grave.

Wrote people about council tax, job ap writing (the QM job centre), the Jubilee event (which Cambridge House no longer wants to do, so I'm left with THREE WEEKS to hook up with other people, plan my own from scratch, or find something else good to go to--thanks a /lot/, guys), book requests for Tor, the music, upcoming social plans, etc. Updated calendar and flatmates spreadsheet, cleaned out emails, etc. Kind of productive weekend despite the heavy social aspect.
x_los: (Not My Real Dad)
* I'm interested in broadening my reading for Purposes. What are your favorite UK-published (loosely defined) fantasy novels of 2011? #research

* Does anyone know a dead-simple website design program that I can use for free? Bearing in mind that I know like BASIC html mark up and how to navigate like, Web 2.0 interfaces, and nothing more. I could look up how to code some more simple shit, but that /cannot/ be the best means of going about this, and I doubt the result would look v. pro. I'd like to put together something totally unfancy for my former employers, with a main page with a photo, a header, and a links bar, an 'About the Staff' page (4ish photos), an 'About the Practice' page (maybe one photo), and some contact info, with a box in the page that can people can use to send him an email. I can probably read up on how to do that last once I know what program I can work with. If he wants more, I'll go from there. The thing just needs to be decently professional in appearance, built in something I can obtain for free (though I'm aware domain-name space won't be free--that's another thing I'll have to learn about) and for the site to accomplish these relatively simple tasks.

Once that's properly up, I can build him a FB page, a Linked-In profile, and a Twitter to correct his increasingly weird complete lack of web presence, then hand it over to his young receptionist or his young law-clerk to actually maintain.
x_los: (On A Ship)
Useful advice [livejournal.com profile] amaterasu_no_ki gave me in an old discussion on my MA thesis:

"My theory is weak (I'm a psychologist and we kind of don't do it like y'all) but I will offer some of the names I've read in my study of gender theory:

Althusser's thoughts on ideological state apparatuses - how the state/society makes over individuals in it's image, and a person's perceptions of him or herself are influenced by the state and it's institutions. Butler was influenced by him, specifically his concept of interpellation, which is the idea that context always precedes the subject. I wish I had a specific reference (we read excerpts in a reader, and this was undergrad) but some of his books have online versions on marx2mao:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louis_Althusser#Selected_bibliography

You're probably already reading/read Foucault's History of Sexuality.

Derrida also has some interesting insights, but since I suck at theory I'm gonna copy this summary from Wikipedia:

"[Derrida] in turn describes logocentrism as phallocratic, patriarchal and masculinist. Derrida contributed to "the understanding of certain deeply hidden philosophical presuppositions and prejudices in Western culture", arguing that the whole philosophical tradition rests on arbitrary dichotomous categories (such as sacred/profane, signifier/signified, mind/body), and that any text contains implicit hierarchies, 'by which an order is imposed on reality and by which a subtle repression is exercised, as these hierarchies exclude, subordinate, and hide the various potential meanings.'"

Yeah. The works in question are three books he published in 1967: Speech and Phenomena, Of Grammatology and Writing and Difference. A large portion of Writing and Difference and Of Grammatology is on Google Books:

Raewyn Connell, when she was writing as Robert Connell (she's transgendered) wrote a seminal book called Gender and Power that discusses a lot of these issues. Also has a preview on Google Books: here.

Gayle Rubin wrote a greeeeeeeeat piece called "Thinking Sex: Notes for a Radical Theory of the Politics of Sexuality". It was originally published in a book edited by Carole Vance (who is also somebody really good to look up concerning gender theory) but I think one of the best places to find it is in The Lesbian and Gay Studies Reader simply because that book has so many other great pieces. It's the first essay in the book and the whole damn thing is on Google Books. Other ones that may be interesting to you in that book are "Deviance, Politics, and the Media" by Stuart Hall, and "One is Not Born a Woman" by Monique Wittig. Both of those have a sample on Google Books.

I will also note that A Reader on Reading and The City of Words have previews on Google Books.

http://www.google.com/search?tbm=bks&tbo=1&q=manguel&btnG=Search+Books"

* Song [livejournal.com profile] elviraprose mentioned to me:



* Sam suggested looking for work with video game developers. Not a bad idea.
x_los: (The Books One)
An Eight-Year-Old's Dream Job: http://newyork.craigslist.org/wch/lab/2667823368.html

Spent all yesterday at a day-long job interview thing for a crummy 'zero-hour contract' HR job. Several stupid tasks and interviews. It was like a shitty, desperate, tragic X-Factor--well, more so--in which everyone there was qualified or over-qualified, and some of them hadn't worked for over a year. I got through to the final round and, today, got a follow-up rejection letter. Feel like the problem may have been that I was over-qualified (they sort of suggested this), and that other people were earning certificates and such in HR, whereas my CV clearly indicated this was not my eventual trajectory. Danny suggested I just start leaving qualifications off my CV to avoid this, as per today's Married to the Sea (http://www.marriedtothesea.com/102611/), but that seems dicey too, and just sad. A full day wasted, and the cost of getting there, for this measly little job I might have done in my sleep and barely even wanted, which I wasted time on and panted after in the most degrading fashion. *Eugh.*

Applied for a tutoring position with the people Tamara works for. And made four types of flavored pumpkin seeds: Original (butter and salt), Asian (sesame oil and dark soy glaze), Spicy (chili powder, cayenne, paprika) and Sweet (cinnamon, nutmeg, dark brown sugar and honey). Will take pictures. Would do things slightly different in future, but I like these as toppings on salads, compatible savory dishes, and deserts accordingly.

Sort of looking forward to Christmas: http://www.cathkidston.co.uk/images/assets/pdfs/Christmas%20Come%20Early.pdf

Hoping to make marzipan fruits from home-made marzipan as gifts for people who like marzipan, and also a christmas cake and a pudding this year.
x_los: (Avatar)
WRITTEN LAST NIGHT, POSTING TODAY

We visited, debated about, and finally got a new cat Saturday. He's mostly hidden in wardrobes, terrified of us, the horrible changes wrought in its life (all eleven months of which had pretty much been spent in three small council flat rooms--he's always been an Indoor cat) and, weirdly, of DOORS (they are the worst things, apparently). He's easing up--LOVED the ribbon and bauble necklace/cat toy I made out of discarded cracker wrappings last Christmas yesterday, today willing to sit on the bed with us for before-bed tv. Cat FUCKING LOVES Downton Abbey and Star Trek--less interested in Sarah Jane and Red Dwarf. This is a cat with super-decided tastes--really INTENTLY watched Downton, sat on the bed with us for Trek, but then Katy put on Red Dwarf and it 'bitch please'd and jumped off. It was a very TV night, as Katy and Jo were exhausted from the wedding reception she went to last night, and I was exhausted from the cat waking me up at 4am with a FRANTIC NEED!! to explore the landing, and Molly calling to chat/prolong my awake!agony.

Here are some pics the previous owner took: http://www.gumtree.com/p/pets/male-cat-for-free-to-a-good-home/88885166#gallery-item-full-5 . We chose him largely based off his stupid face. His previous owner called him Sasa, but said he's never responded to it. I am reluctant to change his name if he knows/likes this one at all, but if he doesn't respond to it for a few weeks, I guess we'll have to try and find something he shows some evidence of liking/remembering. (And something cooler, tbh.)

Molly, my sister who is two and a half years my junior, recently announced she was two months pregnant. Mixed feelings on this. Happy FOR her, because she and her new husband really wanted it, and it's not my place to say 'that's not what I'd want and therefor it's an invalid thing TO want'. Also suspicious of having a baby at 23 (our mom and grandma still have her beat--Hill People/Old-Style Jew fusion, y'all) and what it'll do to her ability to do grad school and to do work she wants to do. Suspicious of her and Jake reproducing in, and thus being probably for a few years tied down to, our small town and batshit family therein, which is hardly the best child-rearing environment/environment for the two of them around.

And this is small and petty, but Molly having the BABY OMG BAAAAABY really REALLY overshadows anything I'm doing in our fam's eyes.

Example convo w/ my mom:

'Hey so I finished my thesis--'
'What is thesis? Is important? Is important like BAAAAAAAAAAAABY!!!?'
'I have been accepted by a few more advisors?'
'Will advisors give you BABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!?'

*IN BEST POSSIBLE WORLD:*
'OH MY GOD I HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED BY A PHD PROGRAM AT CAMBRIDGE WITH GREAT FUNDING!! ALSO MY AUDIO SERIES HAS REALLY TAKEN OFF AND I'VE BEEN HIRED BY SOMEONE OFFICIAL SOMEWHERE! AND I GOT A NEW JOB, AND KATY GOT A NEW JOB, AND MY BOOK IS COMING OUT, AND I'M PART UUUUUUUNICORN!!!'
'That's nice. Have you noticed the foetus? Now that's a legit life-achievement. By which I mean, BAAAAAAAABYYYYYYY.'

It's fine, I just sort of have to suck up having a family that's very unfamiliar with the benchmarks for achievement in any of the fields I'm working in, and is liable to respond to 'I finished my MA thesis' with 'what were you studying, again?' and 'So it's for practice and I'm not submitting it to anyone (I didn't say: because it's fic, but I consider fic a legit literary form, and this an achievement), but I finished a novel.' with 'Well, I guess I'd be happy if you were as famous as someone only slightly famous, like C.S. Lewis or something.' (Thanks, gay!daddy, for both gems) Or! 'I got accepted by four advisors, at UCL, Birkbeck, Queen Mary, and Marina Warner (with a Booker Prize and titles for being awesome) at (otherwise lame) Essex' with 'Well, it's not Oxford, is it. That's what people know in America, you know, and if you don't go there you'll regret it forever, like I regret not having gone to Yale for law when I was accepted.' (hat tip to bio!dad). Oy.

Officially quit the Tea Box, for NEVER giving me hours and being god-awful at communicating (and being a truly nasty place of work when I was there, due to the vile vile bosses). Good riddance to bad rubbish. Now have to go to bank and check deposit history to make sure Vile Boss paid me when she said she did, and go through my google calendar, any emails from them, and any conversations I had with Katy re: working overtime, because her estimate seems low (even knowing she lied about paying 8 an hour and actually pays 6, thanks for this hot tip, other fed-up employees) and is for July only (I think I also have unpaid shifts for June, potentially May). Not today though, I have like, actual shit I need to get done that doesn't involve double-checking this bitch over like 100 pounds max, because this is the sad little back-alley my working life has detoured into. I'm doing it, I'm just hating it.

Productivity Stuffs )
x_los: (Andrae?)
This will be incoherent, it's 5 am and I am le tired.

Frustrating day. Woke up with a bit of a migraine, but dosed it off. Made sweet potato falafel and helped Katy hunt the gas meter a bit (it proved illusive, landlady's proxy had NO idea where it might be, had to email old roommate Rob).

BUT, from roommate Kasia, got some disturbing info--said Proxy-Doxy might be moving someone into the downstairs room. Now this is ODD, given that, at our meeting, we established that I could pick a friend the housemates were comfortable with to move in there, and it was implied this could be taken care of when the repairs to the house were complete (they're not yet).

Kasia said the landlady thought she might have someone for the downstairs. The landlords finding a tenant themselves has never happened in all three years of Rob's tenancy, and due to this, and also because the landlords had moved to America, Katy has moved into my room but isn't ON the lease. So if this person is some bosom chum of proxy, we face a REAL issue. I have no guilt on this score--the people are getting paid, and Katy and I and undertaking improvements and necessary cleaning, directing the builders to a silly degree, recruiting other tenants of good habits and facilitating their lease-signing processes (Jo, Phillippa, probably Peter later) and generally being excellent stewards of a property that had been allowed to fall into dilapidation. My parents' rentals were often trashed by vile occupiers, and I've seen and heard some dubious shit in the course of helping them/working for them, and this wouldn't make even my mercenary mother bat an eye. My role here is pretty similarly unpaid!Property Managery (apparently when I said 'I will never work for my mother ever ever again' I meant 'but I will find her clones on another continent and somehow wind up doing similar work for /them/, wooooo!'), but I didn't mind because it allowed me the control I needed. BUT if some little schmendrick comes in and whines about my girlfriend living with me, /well/. It puts the kibbosh on our cat-related plans for the mo, as well.

Also, just generally, I feel in a shared house that having no say over who the roommates are is--weird, creepy, etc. Invasive. Not what I signed on for, given my phone conversations, emails, and meeting with the landlady in which we discussed her preference that I have a group of friends in the house to create a feeling of mutual responsibility for it, etc. I know you can't spell 'non-consensual' without 'sensual', but bitch this was NOT my understanding when I signed the dotted line (of your poorly constructed contract with no rider-signature-line and thus little legitimacy/protection for /you/, what what WHAT were you thinking? *Sassy Gay Paralegal* Seriously though, don't c/p your contract together when you don't know what you're doing and haven't had anyone who does look it over, you wind up with some indefensible bullshit.).

We currently only have girls, and Peter I really like and trust, and it's not like I necessarily think every strange dude is not to BE trusted, but I don't get on with every random guy THAT well, I don't feel SUPER safe. The landlady says the potential new tenant is a student, she THINKS not my friend, and that she'll tell me more when she knows more. In a sense this is heartening: if she doesn't even know whether the potential tenant is the friend I was earlier told I could have in the downstairs bedroom, how close can they be/how likely is this person to rat us out? Yet how can the landlady not know this information? Where is this person coming from, if she doesn't know that? Say it's a friend of the landlords' family, so potentially like them Indian, from a relatively traditional background--how cool is she going to be with the lesbian relationship upstairs? Say it's a 17 year old raver, or a brat, or a studious SILENCE!!nazi, or, like my last flatmates, someone language-barrier-tastic?

I can work this out when it comes to it: if the child comes at all (which won't be immediate) (and given the family's general disorganization, I have my doubts, and I'll sweep in with alacrity to arrange an alternative candidate), and if she's not for winning, there's always saying 'my girlfriend's housing's fallen through and either she needs to share my room (and we can make arrangements to compensate you (though privately I'd rather not, this rent is sweet and I'm pretty dependent on it until my job improves or I get more student loans)) or, or I'll have to sublease and move out', or Katy 'living' elsewhere but actually just staying there like two nights a week.

I just hate having put Katy in a precarious situation, even if we can sort it. I didn't think I was being a chancer on this one, because Rob has had SO few problems for years. Even Katy's mom and mine, relatively stern-eyed ladies, smiled beneficently on the arrangement. Damn damn damn damn. There's nothing to do for it but wait, but I know I'll stew until I hear more.

So after that mess we went out to Anna's--Mexican was fine (kinda uninspiring, after the build-up, with the sort of blandness and limited ingredients I dislike about El Maguey-style commercial Mexican), got Anna coffee-syrups, then went to Eds for GOD AWFUL cheesecake I wrote them a 'come-to-jesus' note about on the back of a customer membership card and then pocketed because it was too mean to leave. I got violently ill--the migraine blossoming into a full and fruity nausea--and the bus home did me no favors. I proceeded to be Really Really Ill.

On a positive note, we watched like three episodes of Next Gen today! 'Inner Light' is next!

Too worried about stupid house shit to sleep, I applied to the last ten of this weeks' jobs. Too many landlady!emails today for my pleasure or productivity. :/ Talked to Bess--the audition posts are up! Yay.
x_los: (Brig is just a dubious person.)
I have hot fantasies about getting adequate notice before I have to go into work. A secretary calls and silkily intones, “could you do some open houses… next week?” “Oh,” I answer, shaky, breathy, surprised by the force of my desire, all trembling acquiescence, “yes, yes, YES! I AM AVAILABLE NEXT WEEK!”

But no. Woken from a solid sleep by my mom insisting I go show three properties in a row, preferably like, an hour ago. So if I could get on building a time machine, that would be best, but failing that, I should be in the car driving out towards Kansas City in under three minutes.

So the resulting process involves:

1) me trying in vain to find an outfit that I don’t despise,
2) cramming what looks like a plausible breakfast down my throat as I’m going to be working until 4:30 with no time for such fripperies,
3) realizing I’m completely out of gas, and
4) have to drive over to my dad’s office, where I’ve forgotten my purse,
5) my car refusing to start or jump until I find a battery charger it likes the color of,
6) having to take my sister and the kid she’s agreed to baby-sit to the pool,
7) begging my other sister to print me out directions and grab the keys from my mom’s office, where she too has been called in to work,
8) running into my father’s office with no explanation past the identical bemused expressions of he and his dog screaming something that may have resembled greetings and farewells to both,
9) getting gas,
10) picking up the papers and keys from my sister, and
11) getting stuck in an absolutely inexplicable traffic jam between Columbia and the Midway Exit. I mean, what? Since when is there a FULL-STOP traffic jam on that highway?

So I end up half an hour late, get to the house, and discover they’re the lovely, super-paranoid species of people that feels the need to get a sooper-dooper difficult to disarm security system for their house crammed thick with possessions no self-respecting thief would ever want to steal. Their decoration includes the world’s most heinous duvet covers. If I were a Scottish clan member and these duvet covers were representative of my clan tartan, I would fellate the Dress Act of 1746 in gratitude for banning the wearing of same. The wall pictures are a mix of weird Asian appropriation (interior decorating a overseas tour of duty?) and the sort of chintzy ‘Hollywood Backlot’ painted collection of vaguely recognizable profiles, which represent a cheap exercise in diffuse masturbatory nostalgia, passed off as art. And let’s not forget the ceramic figurines of leprechauns, because god knows they’ll haunt /my/ dreams. Bored cherub throw pillows. Cheetahs in various attitudes. Dolphins wearing sunglasses. A charming odalisque with a sort of Titian touch to the coloration. A generous coating of my vom (I have added frame).

The lighting consists of an obscure system of panels and switches designed to allow no one under the age of sixty to turn on a fucking light anywhere in the home. My job, as the person running this open house, is to turn on every light in the home. Lovely. And naturally no one’s come to my little shop of horrors.

I do like:
1) the forest green trim inlay on the kitchen cabinets, and
2) the sleek vintage Ford Maverick someone’s working on in the garage, not least because it offers a ready means of escape from the house where taste came to die.

Am I the cuntiest cunt-waffle ever to be dressed in maple syrup and butter? Yes. Are these the most threatening sofas since Terror of the Autons?

I’m certainly not sitting in them.
x_los: (Brig is just a dubious person.)
I have hot fantasies about getting adequate notice before I have to go into work. A secretary calls and silkily intones, “could you do some open houses… next week?” “Oh,” I answer, shaky, breathy, surprised by the force of my desire, all trembling acquiescence, “yes, yes, YES! I AM AVAILABLE NEXT WEEK!”

But no. Woken from a solid sleep by my mom insisting I go show three properties in a row, preferably like, an hour ago. So if I could get on building a time machine, that would be best, but failing that, I should be in the car driving out towards Kansas City in under three minutes.

So the resulting process involves:

1) me trying in vain to find an outfit that I don’t despise,
2) cramming what looks like a plausible breakfast down my throat as I’m going to be working until 4:30 with no time for such fripperies,
3) realizing I’m completely out of gas, and
4) have to drive over to my dad’s office, where I’ve forgotten my purse,
5) my car refusing to start or jump until I find a battery charger it likes the color of,
6) having to take my sister and the kid she’s agreed to baby-sit to the pool,
7) begging my other sister to print me out directions and grab the keys from my mom’s office, where she too has been called in to work,
8) running into my father’s office with no explanation past the identical bemused expressions of he and his dog screaming something that may have resembled greetings and farewells to both,
9) getting gas,
10) picking up the papers and keys from my sister, and
11) getting stuck in an absolutely inexplicable traffic jam between Columbia and the Midway Exit. I mean, what? Since when is there a FULL-STOP traffic jam on that highway?

So I end up half an hour late, get to the house, and discover they’re the lovely, super-paranoid species of people that feels the need to get a sooper-dooper difficult to disarm security system for their house crammed thick with possessions no self-respecting thief would ever want to steal. Their decoration includes the world’s most heinous duvet covers. If I were a Scottish clan member and these duvet covers were representative of my clan tartan, I would fellate the Dress Act of 1746 in gratitude for banning the wearing of same. The wall pictures are a mix of weird Asian appropriation (interior decorating a overseas tour of duty?) and the sort of chintzy ‘Hollywood Backlot’ painted collection of vaguely recognizable profiles, which represent a cheap exercise in diffuse masturbatory nostalgia, passed off as art. And let’s not forget the ceramic figurines of leprechauns, because god knows they’ll haunt /my/ dreams. Bored cherub throw pillows. Cheetahs in various attitudes. Dolphins wearing sunglasses. A charming odalisque with a sort of Titian touch to the coloration. A generous coating of my vom (I have added frame).

The lighting consists of an obscure system of panels and switches designed to allow no one under the age of sixty to turn on a fucking light anywhere in the home. My job, as the person running this open house, is to turn on every light in the home. Lovely. And naturally no one’s come to my little shop of horrors.

I do like:
1) the forest green trim inlay on the kitchen cabinets, and
2) the sleek vintage Ford Maverick someone’s working on in the garage, not least because it offers a ready means of escape from the house where taste came to die.

Am I the cuntiest cunt-waffle ever to be dressed in maple syrup and butter? Yes. Are these the most threatening sofas since Terror of the Autons?

I’m certainly not sitting in them.
x_los: (Default)
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070725/ap_on_fe_st/death_cat

Cat predicts death and is a perfect short story in the making. Cat: Your life is a prompt for a mediocre liberal arts student to capitalize on. I hope you never wondered in your tiny cat brain what is was all about. Because that's pretty much it.


BWAH I am hung over, can't get back to napping, walked a long ass way at 6:30 AM to pick up my car from the bar and now can't get back to sleep, and am really sore from walking all that way (to 900 Governor and back from my house) last night in those netted tights and satin pumps. And I only slept like four hours and have to go and deliver for the wedge at 11. Then rush to finish that ass-ton of homework, then go to class, then slink in late to my Writer's Workshop. Fuck.

...Imma need me some coffee.

P.S. Awesome headline spotting:

Potter's magic can't beat Chinese pirates
x_los: (Default)
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070725/ap_on_fe_st/death_cat

Cat predicts death and is a perfect short story in the making. Cat: Your life is a prompt for a mediocre liberal arts student to capitalize on. I hope you never wondered in your tiny cat brain what is was all about. Because that's pretty much it.


BWAH I am hung over, can't get back to napping, walked a long ass way at 6:30 AM to pick up my car from the bar and now can't get back to sleep, and am really sore from walking all that way (to 900 Governor and back from my house) last night in those netted tights and satin pumps. And I only slept like four hours and have to go and deliver for the wedge at 11. Then rush to finish that ass-ton of homework, then go to class, then slink in late to my Writer's Workshop. Fuck.

...Imma need me some coffee.

P.S. Awesome headline spotting:

Potter's magic can't beat Chinese pirates

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