cosmic_celery: (RAGAD: pinter pause)
Dad had the idea that Grandma would like pictures of my brother and me for her birthday, since the last ones we had taken were a couple years ago. Since we're not living in the same area anymore, we had to go somewhere where we could have similar backgrounds. So...I was packed off to the Sears Portrait studio, where I contended with possibly the most annoying women on Earth (one who felt I needed to know her entire life story) in order to get this:

For the record, the background is 'blue glitter' and the pose is 'what the hell am I doing in this position?'  )

Oh, btw, I got a haircut.

Dad's coming up this weekend to spend some time with his mom. Yesterday was her actual birthday and we went up, brought yummy cake, and spent some time with her. She's become vaguely obsessed with this band that plays on PBS sometimes called Celtic Thunder. Basically, a bunch of Irish guys, performing and singing songs. It's nice to see her really interested in something...she's been looking up information on different songs and learning more about Ireland. It's an aspect of her I haven't seen before, and it's neat to know that my grandma can be as much of a fangirl about things as I can. I got her one of the DVD's of the group for mother's day and she really loves it.

She's also been going out with people she knows more...where not too long ago it seemed like she'd decided she didn't want to do that anymore. All very encouraging.

The semester's just about over and I'm rushing to get everything done. So...I shall talk about school when I know how everything turns out.
cosmic_celery: (RAGAD: spontaneity and whim!)
Payback if I've asked you to write a drabble. Or if I haven't.

Meme stolen from many people:

Pick a character from my pup list - and a prompt from below and I'll attempt to write you a drabble.

-Wildly inappropriate
-Silent treatment
-Needs a hug
-Choose your own

cosmic_celery: (DW: 11 Amy police)
Spoilers cut )

Oh, and somebody better do an Amy vid to this:

cosmic_celery: (Hitchhikers: Ford)

cosmic_celery: (B7: Avon & Vila)
Oh, look, an update. Which I haven't done in quite a while. So here's a quick one:

Things are going alright. Classes are mostly going well. I love British Lit. I am rapidly hating Mythology more and more because of the disorganized professor. I'm excited about an upcoming thing that I can't talk about yet. I've been writing a bit of poetry again. I should be writing more fiction and drawing more. I'm trying to get a job but am having a hard time finding anywhere that's even hiring right now. On Monday I'm going to the DMV to take the permit test, so I can finally get back to practicing driving. I've been working almost every day at guitar and am getting better - now if I only could actually play a song that I really like.

...and that's my very fast update.

My day

Apr. 3rd, 2010 09:37 pm
cosmic_celery: (Wonderfalls: wtf morning)
Doctor Who! I loved it, and I'm especially loving Amy. The titles/new theme weren't great, but that's such a small thing compared to the rest of the episode. The one thing that worries me is how Moff is taking the "dark fairytale" route. I like the look of the show, but I'm wary of the attitude towards denying the science-fiction element of Doctor Who.

Went out to read by the pool today...and now the whole back of me is bright red. Ow. Ow. Ow. But the two main protagonists in the book finally met!


I was tired from the sunburn (really, nothing except a sleeping pill seems to tire me out more than a sunburn) so I fell asleep on the couch for a while. I dreamt that I was at some version of the college, but it looked different. Everything was paved in marble. I kept losing track of the fact that I actually needed to attend class at some point, and I kept leaving my backpack around and having to go back to get it. My body kept feeling less and less responsive - too sore to move a muscle. I stopped by some middle aged guy that I asked to tell me something because "I could use a bit of mysticism about now". He said some sort of platitude that I don't remember, and then I left.

So, I dragged myself across the campus to find my backpack again and instead pressed through a crowd of people that were about ready to fight. As the fight broke out I reached the edge of the crowd and, after punching some guy in the face, got out. I found myself along the edge of a fast moving river and walked along still looking for my bag. I slipped into the river, but my body was too weak to swim. I strained to say anything and finally was able to call for help...but none of the girls by the river would help me.

And I woke up yelling for help, which is something I've never done before. All in all, more a nightmare than I've had in a long time.


...and then I had some ice cream. It was yummy.

cosmic_celery: (Beatles: Ringo camera & ciggie)
I'm on Spring break now for a week. However, I still have a paper to write and a few things to do for class it's not like I've got nothing to do. I got my Mythology story back, a B (because I didn't do an outline) with 'well written' marked on it and nothing else. And My English teacher lost my in class essay, but later e-mailed me to me that I got an A. I suppose both of these are good, and I will try my best not to read too much into him losing my paper.

I was invited to some birthday party/Easter egg hunt next Saturday and I have no idea if I want to go. (I don't know if I could even get there...odd bus schedules and such.) There's...I suppose that I should go since it's the only social event I've been invited to in over a year, but on the other hand that seems like a really crappy reason to go. I am a bit of a social phobic about this sort of thing - and hanging around a group of people I don't know for a few hours doesn't sound like my idea of a good time. My problem is, I'm not sure if I don't want to go because I'm scared or if I really just don't want to go.

I do know that I want to put on a swimsuit and sit around the pool reading a book. It's been really nice out lately. Getting a bit of sun sounds like a wonderful idea.

We've been reading Victorians in British Lit, and I've taken the opportunity to start reading Arthur & George by Julian Barnes. It's an alternate history set around Arthur Conan Doyle and a fictional character named George Edalji. I'm nearly two hundred pages in and the two of them still haven't met, so I'm expecting that will happen at the climax of the story. I haven't decided if I like it yet, but the story has been engaging so far. It is interesting, though, to be reading a book set in the same period I'm currently studying. Knowing a bit of background definitely helps.

cosmic_celery: (Beatles: Ringo about ringo)
Back when help_haiti was going, somebody asked me to draw up Eight, Fitz and Anji (and I just got around to finishing it >>). it is! Has anyone drawn Anji before? I don't know. I do know that [ profile] henriettastreet is doing a fic writing/ art making thing. Maybe it'll produce more Anji art!

Under the cut! )
cosmic_celery: (RD: RImmer - shuddup)
Sometimes I focus so hard on the fact that I have no idea when people are flirting with me, that I forget to take into account the fact that I also have no idea when I'm flirting with other people. Last English class we were put into groups to talk over some specific questions. I got talking with a guy about the subject, and we were both interested in it. Really, nothing pleases me more than being able to have an intelligent conversation with somebody on my own level without having to go in and explain things. Then, he suddenly dropped mention of his wife into the conversation, and I noticed that I was leaning and speaking towards him rather than the the whole group (which was four people, one who left partway through). So...I toned down my enthusiasm a notch and leaned back. He didn't seem offended or standoffish or anything, so maybe I'm reading too much into it.

...also there was a sort of cute guy on my bus that seemed interesting (past tense because he was absent this past week), but how the hell do I know if I actually want to talk with people? Yes, the "well, just talk to them" answer seems obvious, but easier said than done for me.

Geeze, I haven't even talked about guys here in...well, quite a long time at least. I am interested in other people, I just don't like most of them, so I'm ill-prepared when I actually do like someone (or even if I'm just interested in talking with someone like with the guy in class). I'm not entirely socially awkward. I'm clever and (on the whole) don't say stupid things in front of people. If you pick the right subject, I will fascinate you until you're sick of talking with me. That's the plus. The downside is I'm an inexperienced geek that lives with her mom and has no license or job.

-Oh, and there's a seriously fucking creepy guy that takes my bus and was walking over and standing around me the other day. Do not want.

cosmic_celery: (IZ: MADNESS)
This is what happened in my brain for the hour and a half I was asleep last night. I blame [ profile] mertondingle for every word of it. Regrettably, there is no hot sex or mustaches.


The day began like it usually does. I got up and went to school. I had to go to the library, and I headed there, but I felt preoccupied. my head was slightly dizzy and I felt strange, not good or bad, but a curious middle ground where I couldn't identify the emotion present. I did a few things at the library. I must have, though I don't remember the specifics of what they were. I probably checked something on the computer or flipped through a book in the mythology section. After all, I had class later.

As I left the library I carried a white blanket around my shoulders and it hung behind me like an odd cape. I found that if I pressed up from the ground i took to the air a little longer than gravity would normally strictly allow. A young woman in a group called for my attention and dazedly, I gave it. She told me, with a hint of awed reverence, that I looked like an angel. My white blanket billowed. I took another leap.

I was losing all sense of time and losing all form of concentration. Suddenly, it was dark out, and I knew I had to get to class. I was clearly late, and the space where I normally sit was blocked. The four seat table had been pushed up against the one behind it in my particular corner, and the chair removed. This puzzled me, and I asked the guy sitting across from the seat to pull the table back. He frowned at me and refused. Then, I asked the girl sitting next to him. She acquiesced and nudged him into pulling the table back so I could sit down in my regular spot.

I reached down into my bag and retrieved the paper I'd written for that day. My head was spinning. I straightened out the edges of the paper and realized that I'd never typed it. Wasn't that the reason I'd gone to the library? Obviously I'd forgotten. The world around me took on a fuzzy sort of glow, but not like in the movies when they've got a nylon over the camera to make things seem romantic.

The teacher said something about the report needing to be typed. I infer this, because I heard the word "type" and she had nodded at my paper apologetically. I offered in stumbled words that I could go type in now and turn it into her later that day. She seemed to agree.

I believe that I left the classroom then. As this point, things get much hazier. I think that I was much too overwhelmed with the virus to deal much with cataloging my experiences in my own mind. I began to speak in an English accent, and I'd found a black robe somewhere.

What I do remember of the rest is this:

A video store. I think I was desperate to get rid of whatever was afflicting me and stretching my mind beyond its normal parameters. I asked the corn-rowed young woman at the counter if they had any Chuck Norris movies. She seemed to be disturbed by me. Maybe I had started to seem godly by then, not merely angelic. I left without any movies (I assume so, since I don't have any now, nor remember watching any) and shook her hand with a tentacle. I'm not sure when my hand became a tentacle, but it was only temporary. I considered that that may be how the virus was spread. I remembered shaking hands with a young English fellow only that morning. I shuddered to think of her future, but the world of my experience was too hazy to do anything for her.

I found myself...somewhere. I do not know where the somewhere is, but it was dark out. I don't know how many days had passed since my journey to the movie store, but I still had on the black robe. Now, I was joined by another figure in similar apparel. I never saw his face, but he became somewhat of an adversary to me. We stood atop a building striking dramatic poses. I had an urge to go higher...and I could. There was a hill ahead of us, and a line of dumpsters along its side. After each of my gravity defying jumps, he followed, determined to best me.

When we reached the top of the hill, a black cloud made up of bodies descended on us like a mass of ninjas filmed in slow motion. Every one of them landed, soft footed on the sparse hilltop. I realized that this was only the beginning of my journey.

I don't remember anymore, if there was any. Maybe by then my mind was too expansive to remember anything at all.

All I know was that I found myself back in my bed this morning. I assume the virus has run its course.

cosmic_celery: (DW: Gallifrey)
Please don't ask. I have no idea.

Wasteland: A Grandfather Paradox/ Father Kreiner Mix


Track list under the cut! )

Life update

Mar. 5th, 2010 02:55 am
cosmic_celery: (RAGAD: juggling)
So, my Grandma seems to be doing alright. I'm still pretty worried about her, but she's going to get some more information before she does anything serious and that seems like the best was to go about things.

Last week I went into the bank with a bond (that I've mentioned here before) and cashed it in. I'd been told that it could be worth around a thousand bucks, as I've had it for twenty years. It's worth a lot less than I thought it was worth. Only about a hundred and fifty bucks. But ah well.

It's already been spent. I bought a few things I'd been thinking about getting for a while: some sunglasses, a program to help me learn guitar (the thing has just been sitting around and I can't stand it), and a pretty nice little microphone. I'd been talking with my grandma about how she wants to record some of the stories about her mother and grandmother and the stories she knows from them. I figure if I had something a bit better than the built-in mic on my laptop, I could actually make that happen. So that's what I did.

So now I've got no money. A while back I applied to be a first reader for the online science fiction magazine Strange Horizons and, after almost a month, they got back to me saying that "after some discussion of your application and your comments on your favorite and least-favorite SH stories, we think this probably isn't a good match. We thought you made some good comments, but we just don't feel that our tastes and yours mesh well enough for this position." Pfft. I can't even get a non-paying job.

But I still have yet to sell any of the stuff I've set aside, and I'm really looking forward to the stuff I'm getting. I'm trying to think of alternative uses for the mic. What would you people want to hear? poetry? my writing? excruciating guitar practice and gradual improvement? I kind of hate the sound of my own voice, so maybe it'd be like immersion therapy. I don't know.

Aaaanyway. Still liking my British lit class, and still annoyed by the ineffective teacher in my mythology class, but I'm doing well in both. Self defense class was really uncomfortable the other night because he choose me as a volunteer to practice a few moves in front of the class. That is, he "attacked" while I practiced in front of everyone. This is probably partly because my mom can't really do things in the same way a young, fit person could. Also, I think he likes me. I have no idea why. He doesn't seem to like my mom at all. It's funny since she's usually the one who's great with people. I don't like him as much as the guy he has coming in to help out with demonstrations every once in a while. This guy and the teacher seem to be a bit gay together. Again, I don't know, but it's hard not to go there when one of them's straddling the other. (And no, it's not a pleasant image. Neither of them are exactly Greek gods.} Ahem...but anyway...

Had an in-class essay comparing Keats' "Ode to a Nightingale" and Shelley's "To a Skylark" and I got a 94%! Though I think he's a very easy grader with the in-class essays. The guy next to me, a complete idiot, got a B.

Next we're reading through Dickens' Hard Times. I need to read that this weekend...and I'd like to start on a book I bought called Arthur and George by Julian Barnes. It's an alternate history novel surrounding an original character and Aurthur Conan Doyle in late Victorian England. ...and the next EDA, and some art stuff. And research. Oh, and writing. I haven't done any writing. And...a bunch of other stuff.

Agh. Too much to do.

Poem meme

Mar. 3rd, 2010 01:43 pm
cosmic_celery: (IZ: head pidgeons)
Here's the "when you see this, post a poem in your journal" meme. For this, you need to know that a grackle is a bird, and it sounds like THIS.

Theory of Beauty (Grackles On Montrose)
by Mark Doty

Eight o'clock, warm Houston night,
and in the parking lot the grackles
hold forth royally, in thick trees

on the lip of traffic, and either
they're oblivious to the street-rush
and come-and-go at the Kroger

or else they actually like it, our hurry
a useful counter to their tintinnabulation.
Now one's doing the Really Creaky Hinge,

making it last a long time;
now Drop the Tin Can, glissando,
then Limping Siren, then it's back

to the Hinge done with a caesura
midstream, so it becomes a Recalcitrant Double Entry.
What are they up to, these late, randy singers,

who seem to shiver the whole tree in pleasure
when somebody gets off a really fierce line,
pirate aerial deejays remixing their sonics

above the median strip all up and down
the block from here to the Taco Cabana?
They sample Bad Brakes, they do

Tea Kettle in Hell, Slidewhistle
into Car Alarm, Firecracker with a Bright Report,
and every feathered body --
how many of them are there,

obscured by dense green?
seems to cackle over that one,
incendiary rippling, pure delight,

imperious, impure singing:
traffic in tongues, polyglot,
expansive, awry.

cosmic_celery: (DW: 5/Tegan the space between us)
I haven't made a proper journal entry in quite a while, it seems, apart from showing off the bits and bobs of my costumes. (As it happens, the tights for my girl!five thing showed up and they're very cool - they've got a cool cable-knit pattern on them like the sweater. See?)

There's a couple things I've been wanting to mention on here but I haven't really sat down to do it, so:

There's been some business with my grandmother that came to a rather frightening moment this weekend. We learned several months ago that she has a growth on one of her ovaries. As far as they know it's not cancerous and it could have been there a very long time before they even found it. For a while they were talking about the possibility of going in and having it removed. Initially, she agreed, but then after talking with my Dad, she agreed to reschedule to this weekend. The night before last, grandma got a ride up to the hospital to go over everything and then came home. Once at home, she got a call from one of the nurses saying that she could come back to the emergency room immediately because a test had come back showing signs of renal failure. She refused because she felt fine, and called my mom and me to tell us what had happened. It's at that point that I freaked out a bit. It seemed like nobody was caring that something potentially fatal was happening to a member of our family.

However, it turns out that the readings were perfectly normal for her based on her history (she has one kidney, which skews the results) and furthermore, she's decided not to get the surgery at all. This is largely on my Dad's influence, who is extremely suspicious of hospitals. He thinks that once you walk through the doors, you lose all ability to make decisions for yourself. That part is unfounded, definitely. The other side, which I totally understand, is that my grandmother is an 89 year old woman. Surgery to deal with something that isn't causing her discomfort is definitely a risky proposition. Still, it irks me that nobody is weighing the options.

So, she'll be making an appointment to go see a geriatric doctor...who, I suppose will look over everything - and we'll see from there.

The second thing I wanted to talk about is an incident that happened at my mom's work several months ago. A man who had been fired during the holidays came in, shot one of the management, and then himself. My mother wasn't directly involved, though she was in the building when it happened. As far as these sorts of things go, I think it qualifies as "close to home". Though I have the same sort of detachment thinking about it that I get when I've heard of any other shooting. I don't know if that's good or bad, really. People do strange and terrible things that make little sense to me, and I'll never understand that sort of thing, no matter how close to home it is. But...I'm not horrified by it. Just sad for humanity.


Anyway. I think my dad's coming down today, which should be lovely given I as good as hung up on him the other night when he was rambling on about how surgery should have never been an option at all for my grandmother. ...and I haven't had any sleep.

Despite the tone of this entry so far, I'm alright. School is going nicely and I'm learning things I'm interested in. On Monday I'm going to go see about cashing in a bond I've got lying around - I have a list of things I'd like to do and most of them require a bit of dosh.


cosmic_celery: (Default)

December 2015

  123 45


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 10:54 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios