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  • Silvertree

    Mod post: No wishlist posts in blogs

    By Silvertree

    Please be aware that we do not permit swap-related content on profiles or in blogs. Please post this content only in the For Sale, Swaps, and Wanted forums, or in the Wishlists topic. ~from Swapping 101  Thanks!
    • 5 comments
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Fishnets and Frankincense
 

Of crazy jobs and heavenly scents

I've been really busy at work. I'm tired. I go to bed late, because I'm such a damn night owl, but lately I've been waking up at 3 in the morning and don't get back to sleep for an hour. Then at 5:30 the cat comes meowing his little cat butt off, asking to be fed. I put him on the bed and then he stands on me, kneading his paws on my chest. Oh, how relaxing. Then I got to work and run on pure adrenaline for 8+ hours. No wonder I can always lose weight in the legislative session.   So it was such a rush when I came home yesterday and found my Lab order. I ordered another bottle of teh Smut, Chintamani-Dhupa, Swadinapatika, Vasakasajja and Bakeneko. Filgree Shadow already has my bottle of Vasa heading her way, because my body blew up the orchid in that one and 'gree is a vasa junkie! And bless her, she swapped me for the Bakeneko, because I ADORE that scent. Holy crap, I've never had a lunacy that I liked, much less loved. Swadinapatika is nice, it gets nicer after I wear it for an hour, even better after two hours. I think I should wear it on days that the little asshole wakes me up at 5:30, because if I put it on really early in the morning, it would be to its gorgeous mellow level by the time I got to work. I have Chintamani-Dhupa on my sales thread right now, but if no one buys it tonight, I'm taking it down. I don't adore it, but I don't dislike it. And Smut, I love teh Smut. Needed another bottle, but I don't wear Smut in the winter. The pure holy musk can be a bit much for me right now.   My yoga teacher always says this, and it's very true, the brain needs to be scrambled and stimulated every now and then to keep on top of its game. When I meditated last night, I was as quiet as I'd been in a long time. Lately, my brain has been whirling a lot when I meditate, because work can be an obsession this time of year. I can't let it drop. But I swear, what stilled me last night was that I'd spent all evening sniffing and testing BPAL. For the people to test BPAL a lot, you know it's a very sensual and analytical process, all at the same time. You're kicking your senses into overdrive, but your brain is trying to decipher what you're smelling. Last night, it was what the doctor ordered, because it kicked my brain out of those old thought patterns and into something entirely new. How fabulous.   So I'm off to meditate and to then attempt to get ready for bed and to find slumber early (ha!) and to dream sweet-smelling dreams. And if the damn cat wakes me up at 5:30 again, you know I'll be wearing Svadhinaopatika tomorrow!
valentina

valentina

1
Eoywin's Blog
 

The Great Picture Project

I have a lot of pictures, and I've been thinking lately that I really should scan them into my computer, and make several cd's, so as to have them in case something happens.   The only problem that it's a bit hard to look at some of these pictures, and it brings up some unpleasant feelings.   Firstly, even though she's been dead for over 4 years, I have a hard time looking at pictures of my mom. When I do, I feel like sobbing, so I just don't look at pictures of her. With the picture project, I would have to look at them   Secondly, I'm not sure what to do with the pictures that have my ex-friends in it. Since I was friends with my ex-best friend for nearly 10 years, I have a lot of pictures with her in it. A lot with my other ex-friends as well. Right after we moved to NC, I was going to send the ex-best friend the pictures, but never got around to it. Now I feel that too much time has passed.   Looking at those pictures bring back everything that went down, and it makes me sad and angry at the same time. I won't scan those in, but I don't really feel right throwing them away either.   This has been on my mind, which was evident by my dreams like night, which one featured my mom, and the other featured my ex friends.
Eoywin

Eoywin

0
Squash Soup
 

I hate my life sometimes.

Please disregard any residual joy from my last post as it is gone. I won't be able to place that much anticipated order. Just when I thought I was ahead and was ready to treat myself.......I forget to log a debit and my account goes overdraft. The fees sucked up every last scent.   No new BPAL for Jessie for the moment. Thank god I didn't actually place the order and then find out I was broke! Thank goodness for small favors.
jessiesquash

jessiesquash

0
I will confess to you --
 

2007 Booklist.

Like everyone else, one of my resolutions this year was to read at least 100 books outside of classes. This is just my way of keeping myself accountable and possibly to give other people suggestions of books they might enjoy. I also write lame mini-reviews which you are welcome to giggle at.   1) Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress: A Novel by Dai Sijie. A lovestory (of words and people) set in a rural village in China during the Cultural Revolution. It heightens one's understanding of the horrors of Mao's plans for "re-education" and goals for China. Despite the injustice and the potential for anger, this story is charming and gentle, choosing to focus instead on making do with reality and finding an escape in language. Absolutely beautiful, a wonderful way to start out the year.   2) The Penelopiad: The Myth of Penelope and Odysseus by Margaret Atwood. Margaret Atwood does it again! As a reader, I've often wondered about the backstory of popular myths and what Penelope was REALLY like has always been up there in my mind, especially as I find her so much more interesting than Helen. The language is, as always, devastatingly beautiful and honest without being blunt.   3) Life Before Man by Margaret Atwood. I'd never even heard of this particular Atwood work and, at the end of it, I can understand why. It must have been more shocking when it was originally written, but for me, the swingers were uninteresting because they seemed so normal. Lasje, however, with her dinosaur-fascination did manage to hold my attention to the end. If you're an Atwood fan, it's worth a read but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone just starting to explore her work.   4) Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson. This is a lovely, quick read that I could have spent a month on. Silver's story woven in with Tristan and Isolde is absolutely breathtaking. The wonderful thing about Winterson is that she manages to write what feels truthful in a way that it is different upon every reread. Her honesty is multifaceted and prone to slipping away under scrutiny.   5) Willful Creatures: Stories by Aimee Bender. A quirky collection of short stories from the author of The Girl in the Flammable Skirt. I can't possibly describe them without using the words "surreal" and "bizarre". With characters from a big man who keeps a little man as a pet to an insomniac with an iron for a head, these stories will either draw you in or leave you out in the cold.   6) Piranha to Scurfy: Stories by Ruth Rendell. This collection of Rendell's short stories definitely has its weak points, but the first and last story (introducing Ribbon the literary snob and Ben who stumbles into a relationship in a village where everything works... differently) make up for it. Rendell's background as a mystery writer shines through as these stories are full of questions and waiting with baited breath for whatever comes next.   7) Eleven Minutes: A Novel by Paulo Coelho. Maria is a girl who, at a young age, determines that love will not come to her. By the time she is 19, she is working as a prostitute in Switzerland. The title comes from her realization that sex takes only eleven minutes to complete and yet people are obsessed with it, a theme that she will continue to wonder about through the whole book. Her trials and triumphs are sometimes fascinating, sometimes bordering on idiotic. All in all, worth the read but nowhere near Coelho's best.   8) The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien. I'd actually read this before, but it was one of the books that I read when I was 8 and trying to prove that I could. It didn't mean much to me then but this time, I'm awestruck. I love the poetry and the songs, the dialogue between the characters. It reminds me that I really need to go back and reread the Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Silmarillon.
mermaidrage

mermaidrage

4
Do you have a flag?
 

Well, this is not good.

I just caught myself in the act of chewing a fingernail. It had a little tear in one side, and now it's gone.   This upsets me because my new year's resolution for 2006 was to stop chewing my fingernails. It's a habit I'd had since I was a kid. I bit my fingernails all the time, and my hands never looked pretty and womanly. They always looked beat-up and rough because of having terrible fingernails. So I quit. I reallly, honestly quit. I spent all of 2006 trying to figure out how to care for fingernails because I'd never had them before. They'd get long and I'd say "Wow, look at my long fingernails!" My husband would say, "Yep. Here's the nail clippers." It took me almost a year to use the clippers because I was so upset about the idea of cutting down the fingernails that I had been so good about growing. I was filing, filing, filing constantly.   This winter I've learned about nail brittleness. Almost all of my fingernails have started to get cracks on the edges, fairly far down. I tried to glue a couple of them, but that only held for a few days at the most. Plus I messed with them absent-mindedly. Yesterday I realized that so many of them had those cracks that I'd better just cut them all down. I cut them to a reasonable short length. A little white crescent moon on the ends of my fingernails.   The problem is that now they're so short they're the perfect biting height. Earlier tonight I was feeling annoyed and irritated about something, and before I knew it I'd lost a fingernail. Crap! Now I have to go through that whole agonizing torture of forcing myself NOT to mess with my fingernails all over again until these grow out. Luckily they grow fast (I never knew my fingernails grew so rapidly until I started letting them grow -- they're like weeds!), but it'll still be several weeks before I can stop thinking "DO NOT BITE FINGERNAILS!!!" in the back of my mind at all times.   But, hey. If a bitten fingernail is the worst thing to happen to me this week, that's a damn good week, in my book.
filigree_shadow

filigree_shadow

3
This Old Snark
 

Stabbity Craft

Snarky got back on the needle felting wagon this weekend. She made a little desktop meditating turtle for her best friend, who is currently going through some tough times trying to find work in an over-saturated market. On to the cuteness!   Behold the Om Turtle!   (Fuzzy) Close-up   The shell is detachable. Note the cute little turtle butt! The lighter colored... thingie is a pocket. And what's in the pocket?   A wee little heart! Or a T-bone steak! Whichever will make her happier!   There is something very therapuetic about stabbing a blob of fluff repeatedly until it forms into something. Snarky couldn't completely zone out (that would result in punctured paws) but she could take her mind off of more serious matters this weekend and concentrate on just making something.
darkitysnark

darkitysnark

8
Birdsongs
 

Rediscovered joys

Things I can do again now that I'm not dating Jason:   - watch TV with subtitles. I love subtitles! Jason found them too distracting, but they have so many benefits! You can turn the volume down to be considerate to the other roommate who has to get up earlier in the morning, & still watch TV. You can pick up things you would have had to rewind several times to hear. You can save time on watching special features like deleted scenes of the Office by putting on the subtitles then fast-forwarding & reading the little sentences as they flicker by (sometimes I get really impatient ).   - eat whenever I want instead of having to wait for him to get home so we can eat at the same time. Also, go to Taco Bell on the way home if I feel like it for some reason, without having to consult anyone else.   - choose what to watch. For instance, last night I found the 1994 movie Kiss of Death on TV & watched the last half of it. In high school my friend & I had a thing for David Caruso & we loved this movie. It was a little simpler than I remembered, and I think his magic is gone for me, but all the actors were still good, & it was fun. And then when I needed something to distract me (I'm fine during the day - work, calling friends - but then at night when I try to sleep I start to think about what we were doing a week or two ago & start to cry) I can put on my DVDs of the original Batman cartoon & drift off admiring its art. Jason finds South Park to be soothing on sleepless nights, and I grew to appreciate some of its wittiness, but it's got nothing on Batman!   - watch the opening credits as many times as I want when watching rented TV show dvds without being pressured to fast-forward through them to save time. I enjoy the theme songs - it's part of the whole experience!   Hmm. Next time I'll try to find some that aren't TV-oriented. That's just what I did last night. I'm trying to think more positively & post blogs that aren't just sadness. This may not be all the way there yet, but it's a step ...
spanishviolet

spanishviolet

2
Korshka's BPAL Ramblings
 

Heroine Circle and the First Set of Reviews

I'm slowly making my way through the Heroines. I would have thought that after spending so much time decanting these Friday night, that I would have more of an idea of them all. But this time, unlike with the Yules, I didn't really notice them as I was decanting. I blame the dogs and having to yell at them to keep them in line all night. The good thing is that since there are extras, I can take my time in trying each of them. So far, I adore Vasakasajja, like Khandita, and not so fond of Kalahantarika. (Khandita and Kalahantarika I tried out at the request of Indicolite in chat Sat night).   My little not so great reviews: Vasakasajja Khandita Kalahantarika As far as the decanting itself, it went much better this time. I was able to really knock my way through them. I think this partly had to do with wrapping my index finger up in gauze to protect it from the nasty little vial caps. After decanting the Yules (which were only 6 bottles) my poor little finger was red and had little circles up and down it from those little things. This time, my finger was protected, and because of that, it was much easier and quicker pushing down the little caps.   I think I really enjoy the decanting. I hope to do many more circles.
korshka

korshka

0
Goth Hobbit's Blog
 

From the desk of Grad Student Support Staff

For those just tuning in, read the entry directly below this one first for the sake of clarity.   So, earlier today, D. calls and asks if I’ve had a chance to check my e-mail. (Again, unexpected; we had talked for almost three hours last night.) Umm, no; so I pulled out my trusty little iBook and logged into the house network.   University of Colorado Health Sciences Center sent him a “we want you to come look at our PhD program!” invitation.   Again, more background is needed: a well-known university back east whose name I will not mention (but which rhymes with Rons Bopkins) sent a very similar “let us wine and dine you so we can see if we’re mutually compatible” invitation to him two years ago. After wining, dining, and forming what seemed to be a mutually good impression, they said “thanks, but no thanks”. I had a front-row seat for that particular emotional roller coaster; he had many reasons for wanting to go there, starting with the fact that it’s a damned good school, and he would have been entering directly in to their PhD program. The other reasons were equally valid, but intensely personal, so I won’t mention them here; just take it as given that the rejection letter was equal to a well-aimed gut punch, and leave it at that.   Two years and a really traumatic move later (did I mention that he had a broken leg at the time?), he gets this invitation from a school that he could have applied to two years ago, and saved a whole lot of heartache.   For the record, that’s essentially a transcription of him being Gloomy and Russian; the views expressed by the Grad Student do not necessarily reflect the opinions of this blogger, et cetera. The bioinformatics program at University of Colorado was in its infancy two years ago; he could not have gotten the education that he felt he needed from the program at that point, and I supported his decision to go somewhere that would best serve his needs. Whether that was Baltimore or Minneapolis, it didn’t matter; the CU-HSC was not where he needed to be, and that was that.   The program really appears to have gotten its collective act together in the intervening span; they’ve got a good balance of faculty, and the curriculum seems to be reasonably sound. And again, he has reasons to find the idea of a PhD bearing the name University of Colorado rather appealing -- personal ones, but very real.   There are several things to consider, though, that have nothing to do with wants and wishes; hard, cold, practical matters that won’t allow themselves to be ignored. Moving is expensive, to start with; moving up there was costly, moving back would be no less so, and make it borderline impossible to buy property. (Of course, this would probably apply to anywhere other than Minneapolis or Chicago; Columbus is just far enough away to make U-Haul look like a nightmare.) CU’s program has come along way, but it’s still not as well established as the other schools to which he has applied. There’s the issue of how much of a stipend they’re willing to free up, and what they would require as far as TA and RA duties.   On the other hand, Denver is Home, and this place has been calling him back ever since he left. He has never stopped being homesick for the place where the streets know his name. When he got out of the Air Force, he moved back and was determined to never leave again, but life is what happens while you’re busy making other plans. He has contacts in both the math and computer science departments who could probably be counted on to put in a good word for him. And there’s the obvious appeal of spending a two or three more years in the rodina before taking up the life of the academic gypsy.   On the third hand (he commented that he needs as many hands as Kali for this discussion, at which I told him to get out of my brain, because I was thinking the same thing) ...he really doesn’t want to leave Minneapolis. It’s a good school, and even when he’s whining about the work load, he admits that he is getting the education that he wanted from it. He loves the city -- not in the same way as Denver; Denver is Home, but Minneapolis could become a home -- and he knows that I have come to love it as well. Financially, Minneapolis makes the most sense; moving expenses would largely be limited to a small truck, beer and other beverages, and pizza for those who were helping out. The housing market is starting to come down a bit, we have a good support network, and did I mention the fact that we both really like the city?   Plus, there’s the uncomfortable feeling that he’s backtracking. He could have applied to CU two years ago and avoided a lot of grief, or so those insidious little voices that make introspective people’s lives uncomfortable keep telling him. He wasted time. He’s backtracking. Things like that. I, of course, could not allow that to go unaddressed, and said “if you go to the grocery and buy a piece of fruit that you like, but it’s not ripe yet, it isn’t backtracking to put it on the counter for a couple of days until it’s ready.” He liked that analogy, and countered “And, in the meantime, you still have to eat something.” I don’t expect the ugly little voice to shut up quite this quickly, but at least I could get to to pipe down for a while.   All in all, though ...Minneapolis. It’s a good place, and one where we both feel very at home. Of course, it isn’t up to him; it’s up to the Admissions Committee, and the fact that the professor for whom he works is on the committee doesn’t make a difference. His professor is not That Kind of Guy. D's application will be given no more favorable consideration than anyone else's -- laudable in principle, but kind of annoying in practice. And since I'm not the sort of person to send off e-mails saying things like "do you know how many hours he spent coding on that ^$ project of yours yesterday?", we're pretty much stuck with crossing our fingers and gritting our teeth.   However, all of this falls under the heading of “long term planning”; today’s issue was far more immediate. Logistics for the CU-HSC recruitment thing.   His proposal was that I fly up just before he had to come down for the interview weekend, take care of Maggie Waggy, stay until Spring Break, and the two of us (three, if you count the pup) drive back down to Denver -- which translates to him driving and me handling Maggie, as well as food and beverage distribution. Map wrangling isn't necessary; he's made the trip many times before, and it's impossible to get lost in Nebraska. There's nowhere to go.   It sounds like a wonderful idea; however, my id and superego are about to come to blows over it, while my ego stands there going “I am so not getting in the middle of that.” The reason for this emotional donnybrook is that there are a couple of craft shows that look like good prospects for me, and they fall right smack in the middle of this timeframe.   I managed to make a decent amount last year, despite the fractured nature of my schedule. I only did two shows that weren’t my usual Friday “set up at the Cafe and see what happens”. This tells me that I’m building some necessary momentum, and now is the time to get more aggressive about booking as many events as I can. I want to get my trademark, and my website, and be able to take my act on the road in a much broader sense. All of that requires money, though, and that means getting myself out to more events where people are going to be interested in spending it. Preferrably on me.   I know that I won’t be letting him down by telling him no, and he has already told me that I shouldn’t feel guilty about doing so if that’s what I feel is necessary. He knows me well enough to know that it's not going to work that way, but form requires us to say it to the other. It’s just that I dislike being pinned between desire and necessity. I want to spend the time with him. I always want to spend time with him; we’ve known one another for almost 20 years and have never tired of one another’s company. I just can’t be in two places at once, though, and it hurts that I have to choose between fulfilling an immediate want and doing what is best for my business, myself, and Us in the long run.   I know what I’m going to have to say, and I’m already disliking the saying of it.   Either way, we will see each other before the end of February, and either I’ll be flying up for break, or he’ll drive down. Or possibly, I’ll end up driving up, as I have not had the best of luck flying out of DIA lately.   Why can’t we just get to a point where the biggest decision that we have to make is whose turn it is to do the dishes?
goth_hobbit

goth_hobbit

2
Port Wine and the Morning Star
 

The Good, the Bad, and the Stinky

I smell like pirate crotch, courtesy of Masabakes, which is a delightful scent if you want to drive away your crab lice. No. No. That's not fair. It'll curl your eyebrows, but I really DO like it. Does it make me weird that I enjoy the really dark, feral, ferociously stinky scents?   I put on Satyr before bed last night and woke up in the morning with that gleeful sort of Christmas morning glow. I had no idea why, until I raised the sheets and caught a whiff of myself, and what the perfume had done cooking under the bedclothes all night. It went from the smell of a very well-groomed goat to being the smell of three days worth of pitilessly good sex crammed into eight hours. Subconsciously from the smell I'd been expecting to find another person in the bed, and it smelled like they were sex-ay. This Satyr owns a disco in the hip downtown district, baby!   Curiously, they make a killer root beer float.
Naamah_Darling

Naamah_Darling

0
Goth Hobbit's Blog
 

The Long and Winding Road, take 2...

Well, I have confirmed that the lengthy, insightful, and occasionally witty blog entry that I composed last night / this morning (it was sunrise when I finished, so...) has, in fact, been eaten by the database.   Grr arrgh, indeed.   I suppose that it gives me a chance to write something perhaps better, especially in light of this morning's phone call (that’s, what ...five for this week?)   Let me start with some background: the man about whom I am very serious is separated from me by about 900 miles. Twenty hours drive time -- even if you drive like I do, Nebraska never ends -- or two and a half by air from where I live. (Although, after having gone to Minneapolis four times in the past 12 months for an average of three weeks at a shot, “where I live” is subject to a broad definition at this point.) He’s a graduate student at University of Minnesota in the process of finishing up his second MS. The field in which he is studying is biostatistics, which is a branch off of the larger discipline of mathematical biology -- a subject which fascinates me and apparently causes our friend Vanessa’s head to explode if she tries to comprehend what he’s doing.   His first Masters was earned here, at University of Colorado - Denver; computer science with a bioinformatics focus (bioinformatics being the computer science powered side of mathematical biology.) Since he truly loves mathematics, and the CU Health Sciences Center biostatistics program was in its infancy, he elected to go to U of M for his next step -- which was supposed to be a PhD, but U of M decreed that he needed a biostatistics MS before entering their PhD program. So, he’s getting the second MS out of the way, and applying to several different PhD programs, including U of M’s.   He also had a First Author publication before he got his first MS, has been an author on three more papers since, with another in the works. The man is both smart and driven.   No, I’m not at all proud of him; why do you ask?   At any rate, the bane of his existence of late -- and therefore mine by proxy -- has been his PhD applications, handled by a service known as SOPHAS; the Schools of Public Health Applications System, also known as “the circle of Hell that Dante left out because it was too grim". (Thank you for the turn of phrase, dearest.) Or, as we have taken to calling it: SOPH-ASS. If it seems that neither one of us is particularly impressed by their service, you’re not wrong. Don’t take my opinion as gospel, though; here are D’s own words on the subject:   “I have now spent as much time on the application process for various PhD programs as I would on the average class over the course of a semester. Also $500 or so, counting application fees, getting re-issues of transcripts and GRE scores, etc.”   The financial aspect, although annoying, is an investment. The time that he has had to put into this is unforgivable. SOPHAS is the brick wall against which D. has been beating his head for the past couple of months, in addition to carrying a full-time class load in something rather more demanding than Underwater Basket Weaving (we will not go into the special Hell that is his Analysis course at this time), his TA duties, and RA work. No grad student has the time to devote to the sorts of hoops that SOPHAS demands an applicant jump through, which leads me to think that the people responsible for this service have never tried to go for any degree over baccalaureate. Add to this the fact that SOPHAS appears to like having all submitted applications achieve a certain degree of ripeness before sending them on to the schools themselves -- with no regard to whatever deadlines the schools themselves have set for applications and admissions.   In other words, if D. had submitted his applications in the form of cream, the universities would have finally gotten them in the form of blue cheese.   This is why, every time I’m there, I spend an absurd amount of time in the kitchen, cooking enough food to provision the Shackleford Expedition to Antarctica. Twice. Every meal that he can just pull out of the freezer is equal to roughly two hours that he can spend on homework, other work, or sleep. Plus, it equals $20 that he doesn’t have to pony up to Pizza Luce. (Not that I have anything against Pizza Luce in the slightest; they’ve been our salvation after a couple of horribly delayed flights, since Luce delivers until 3AM. However, even their menu gets old -- and expensive -- after a while.)   So, the latest part started on Tuesday afternoon. D. called -- unexpectedly, since we had talked the night before.   He got home from class / office hours to find a message on his answering machine. From The Ohio State University (yes, they capitalize the “the”.) OSU wanted to get all of his application materials straight so they cold enter him in a fellowship competition. His reaction was a three-way tie between “#&$*&%!^ SOPHAS; they had to call because those morons sat on everybody’s application until the deadline went by”, “OMG, they really really like me” and the pragmatic “my GPA and publication record tripped a flag for the fellowship requirements; SOPHAS is handing them a bunch of applications that are technically late through no fault of the applicants, and they need to get the ball rolling as fast as possible.”   It’s a good fellowship. OSU would be paying him as much as U of M is, only without having to take on TA and / or RA work; his job would be to attend class and put his dissertation together. OSU has a couple of well-recognized names in the field: Stanley Lemeshow is pretty much to biostatistics what Stephen Hawking is to physics. OSU probably has more immediate name recognition than U of M, which could make a difference when it comes time to look for that first faculty position. Columbus is cheaper in terms of cost of living than Minneapolis. And did I mention that it’s a really good fellowship?   But...   D. confessed to me that he now has empathy for what I went through, being bounced around from address to address as a kid. I could have lived a long and happy life without ever having him know what that felt like. Sympathy I can live with, but he didn’t need to have personal experience. He uprooted his entire life: sold a house that he loved, moved away from his parents, old friendships, from here and all that makes Denver into Home. The rodina. A place where, as he puts it, the streets know our names. Yes, his military career had him moving from place to place; yes, he has chosen a new career that has the potential to be highly nomadic. Yes, as a professor and researcher, you have to go where you can do the best research, and yes, you probably won’t be able to spend your entire academic career in one place.   That, however, is the rational side of his brain talking. On the other side is a four-year-old kid pitching a grand “do’WANNA!” fit.   He wants to stay in Minneapolis. I want for him to be able to stay in Minneapolis; joining him there, obviously. He has been visiting friends there for over a decade; it was one of the reasons that he applied to the university in the first place. Those friends, most of whom I had never met until this past June, have accepted me into their circle nearly effortlessly. One of those friends (one who I did know previously) was part of the Muddy’s Java Cafe tribe, lo these many years ago; when I was there in December, Lexi and I talked about the possibility of getting work studio space together. She and her ex-husband Michael made sure that I got out to play as much as I wanted. One of D.’s classmates loaned me a car for while D. was out of town; I can’t drive D.’s car as it’s a stick shift. To leave these connections behind and go to a place that neither of us is familiar with would be painful beyond words; both of us place a high value on friendship, and especially the concept of chosen family. The fact that several people who he has known since high school seem to have taken the “out of sight, mostly out of mind” approach since he moved hurts him; since there have been times in my life when I had to turn to friends instead of family to keep myself sane and healthy, I understand, and ache with him.   (Of particular ironic potential is the fact that one of the school that he has applied to is the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center, but that’s a whole different issue, and deserving of its own post, which I will make within the next 24 hours. No, really; I promise.)   He wants to be able to put down roots again, even if it is for but another year or two; a desire with which I am in complete agreement. He wants to be able to buy a house again; not a huge one, just big enough to comfortably house two humans with pack rat tendencies, a seven year old Olde English Bulldogge, two sixteen year old cats, and a ferret without everyone tripping over each other and the furniture. He wants a yard for Maggie-pup; again not a huge one, just a space that she can call her own -- like she had here in Denver. (Yes, we dote on the fuzz and consider the impact that any plans will have on them. Deal with it.) He wants a home that is Ours in the way that his condo almost was, but without the stamp of his ex-wife. He knows that I’ve come to love Minneapolis, and wants me to know the city as he does; not as a frequent visitor, but a resident. It is at times like this when I see the mark of his family history in him, whether he sees it or not; his father’s mother came from a little village in Lithuania which no longer exists, but her family had lived in that area for 500 years. Roots mean something to him, and to me as well. And right now, he literally has no idea which of six cities he might be living in come autumn.   Now, imagine dealing with this mostly through 900 miles of copper and fiber optic cable.   So that’s where we are; up in the air, clinging to one another as the only guaranteed thing in the other’s live at the moment.   Next up: today's installment of "Tales from a Harried Grad Student", which hopefully isn't going to disappear into the Twilight Zone like this one did last night. (Helpful suggestion du jour: text editor or word processing programs are your Friend.)
goth_hobbit

goth_hobbit

0
Squash Soup
 

A Windfall!

I just came into a handful of money thanks to my Grampa so now I can place a rather large order!! I know that I want to submit myself for the Inquisition for sure. I don't even know if whether I'd prefer Agony or Ecstasy...except that I like the Ecstasy t-shirt....so I think I'll just leave it up to them to decide. I'm hoping I'll get what I'm meant to.......or I'll just trade until I do. Oooh and a couple of the fizzyBOOMS!! (Grr and either Seduction or Quietude...I haven't decided which yet.) Now that I have a bathtub.....!!!!!!!!!   As for the rest of my order, I'm going to order:   The Parliament of Monsters Arachnina Eshe Faiza Asp Viper Hope & Faith Meskhenet Thalassa Tiresias Zarita Priala   Abhisarika Khandita   Salon Exhibit I imp pack   And a 5ml of Anubis because I've been putting it off for far too long and I really want it.   *squee* This is going to be a fabulous order!!!!!!!!!!!!!
jessiesquash

jessiesquash

2
Goth Hobbit's Blog
 

Huh?

Did the board just eat the great big entry that I just posted? 'Cause it isn't showing up.   I'll deal with it later. Grr arrgh...
goth_hobbit

goth_hobbit

2
Eoywin's Blog
 

On Vacations and Costumes

I haven't written in this blog forever, but I will attempt to be better at it.   With my new job and new found happyness, I don't have much to say in internet land anymore.   There is always so much more to talk about when you are unhappy I guess *L*   My day to day life is pretty boring, so I'll spare all of you that. Instead, I'll talk about the trips I'm planning on taking this year.   The first is Dragon*Con which is defined as such on their website:   Dragon*Con is America's largest, multi-media, popular arts convention focusing on science fiction and fantasy, gaming, comics, literature, art, music, and film.   Dragon*Con is Labor Day weekend in Atlanta, GA   I've known about Dragon*Con for about 4 or 5 years now (maybe longer), and I've always wanted to go. Luckily, our first Asheville friends go every year, so I have someone to share a hotel with.   The only downside to Dragon*Con is that my husband can't come, because of work But we decided that there was no reason I shouldn't go.   So, I love costumes and cosplaying, so I'm of course planning on wearing costumes for Dragon*Con. I'll be bringing at least one old costume, and making one new costume. I'm not the best sewer in the world, so making costumes is hard for me. I used to be friends with someone who could sew and she'd make my costumes, but since we've had a rather large falling out, so I'm forced to make my own costume.   This is the costume I'm making for Dragon*Con:     It's the girl in the pink frilly dress (oftentimes called the Cupcake Dress).   Since I'm not the best at sewing, I'm starting out with a base dress, and adding th e ruffles and the other bits. My boss (who is also becoming my friend) told me about this really neat thrift store she goes to, and I met her yesterday. I found a dress that could be my base dress (and for 50 cents!), but when I got home, it was a little tight - I couldn't zip it up all the way. Though that could be my arms not being able to reach all the way around.   So, I'm geeked about that. I'll probably post pictures as the process goes along.   The other vacation I'm really excited for is our Disney honeymoon! Though since this post has already gotten long, I post more about that later.
Eoywin

Eoywin

0
Birdsongs
 

The other shoe.

All week I felt surprisingly okay, for living in the same house as my now-ex-boyfriend. My friends took me over to their place several nights to hang out & watch TV, & I talked to our other roommate, who was my best friend for ten years - this last year has put a strain on our friendship & we've been on & off talking to each other. We hadn't talked since before Christmas, & it was nice to speak with her again, even if it was for just a little while. I've even talked to Jason a couple of times & we had friendly ten-minute talks about stuff we were doing, reading, etc.   Then yesterday I went to a birthday party for an old college friend. We played games, ate pizza, watched episodes of House - fun was had. His wife was driving me home (since I have no car) at 2:30 am and as we pulled up in front of the house, we could see through the living room window that Jason was in there with the girl he said he had feelings for the night we broke up. He said today that they were just talking because the coffee shop closed, but I don't care. It's been five days - Five Days! - since our two and a half year relationship ended. I'm fine with him bringing other friends over, but not her. They can just have coffee at IHOP - not my home. He keeps saying he wants to be friends, but friends have more regard for each other's feelings than that ... But seriously. Five days!   I ended up spending the night at my college friends house, then having lunch with them & going shopping, which was a nice distraction. But after I got home & talked to Jason & asked him not to bring her here again, I went in my room & cried a lot. Which really sucks on the one hand, but on the other, at least I can stop wondering when the numbness will wear off or if there's something wrong with me because I don't feel intense emotions ... The other shoe has dropped, & I do. Thank goodness for friends - they've been a lifesaver this week.
spanishviolet

spanishviolet

5
Do you have a flag?
 

TMI.

I've been inspired by the recent spate of blogs about bringing out the inner sex kitten, so...   I woke up my husband at 4:00 in the morning for purposes of sex.   This was a pretty common thing when we were first together, but after six and a half years it's not as common as it probably should be. I'm not even sure if you can say "not as common" if it's like once in three years.   When he got home told me he was tired at work all day today but he was also happy. Maybe I should do that more often.   Next on my sexy agenda: Tweezing my eyebrows into pinup-style arches!
filigree_shadow

filigree_shadow

2
Forget Everything And Remember
 

Another day, another... meal?

Apparently we're not hearing back from the mortgage company today. Which isn't so great, because tomorrow we're going to Chinatown with a bunch of friends and won't be home.   I'm really looking forward to going to Chinatown. I can get another medicine cup, since my last one broke, and make myself and the family medicinal teas. (They TASTE medicinal, too! But they work.) We can get a teapot, which we haven't had since the last one broke from overuse. I MIGHT be able to get sushi. (I love sushi. If I could eat it every day, especiall in the summer, I would. Happily. I even learned how to make some very basic sushi.) And we can hang out with our friends, who are usually very busy and don't have time to hang out at all, with anyone. I just hope I have enough energy to walk around. It's not a huge area, not like NYC's Chinatown, but it's kind of spread out oddly over a few blocks.   Today I had my first bout of "morning" sickness so far this pregnancy. Oh, joy. It didn't help that I didn't get QUITE enough sleep, or that a friend called whose boyfriend I used to consider a friend. I sympathize with her completely, and I'm not sure I can be friends with someone who lies so constantly to himself and to everyone else. But I won't get into their issues... it's neither here nor there, and would take far more explaining than I care to do at the moment. But it added some stress. Then my son came home with a letter from the principal, his second time of seeing the principal this school year. Apparently, despite the long talk we had yesterday about responsibility and developing good habits, he got out of his seat at lunch without permission and ignored one of the lunch aides. And this happened more than once.   Honestly, I cannot deal with that, plus my stress and tiredness and depression. Fortunately, I have the bestest husband I could ever have. He's not perfect, but he's as close to perfect for me as anyone I've ever met or even heard of. He knows I'm ground down to nearly nothing, emotionally, and he took charge, made new rules, and meted out the punishment. I am immensely grateful to him, if that wasn't obvious already.   My husband then did the dishes, and I started dinner. I also had some miso soup someone sent me in a care package. I have no idea how they knew or guessed that I absolutely love miso soup, but I do. It's a comfort food, but it's actually not bad for me. We're planning to see if we can get some more packets, maybe tomorrow in Chinatown.   I'll probably go to bed early tonight. My sleep schedule is beyond wonky, and last I heard, the plan was to leave for Chinatown around 11 am.
Kitrona

Kitrona

0
Forget Everything And Remember
 

Perhaps.

I am so tired of people lying to themselves and others over silly, petty little things. Someone mentioned that you can post in the "how are you feeling" thread and pretty much always get support, but it's rather amusing to me that my experience is almost the exact opposite. I have to be extremely melodramatic to even get noticed, and my offers of support, and those of my friends, tend to get ignored. I know it's a big forum, with lots of people, but if only two of those people have responded in any way to your post, is it not simple courtesy to respond to them BOTH?   I am not picking on anyone in particular here. This is something I have noticed over a span of time. And to use examples of my own, which is all I feel I can ethically do, I posted in that thread that I felt "Distant". One word. Ok, easy to miss, I guess. I got no responses at all. Then a few hours later I posted "Discouraged, alone, depressed, and invisible." Direct quote. To that, I got three responses.   It just seems like there are certain people who get more attention in that thread, and on the board as a whole, than others. I understand that people have cliques and all, but it seems odd to me that despite the reality of this, people seem to think that everyone's treated equally.   I have been having some very serious emotional problems, to the tune of semi-regular breakdowns. These do not look to be ending any time soon unless I can get back on my anti-depressants, which I was wisely taken off of when my regular doctor found out I was pregnant. The obstetrician has more knowledge of these things. Until then, however, I tend to devolve into a sobbing mess roughly every three to four weeks. But because I choose not to tell approximately 6000 people every detail of my life, because I assume (probably rightly) that it will bore them, because I choose to mention only the barest details when it is the worst, I get shoved to the back while those who choose to make their lives public to the last detail, they get what appears to be 100% support, although in many cases, it is not.   Perhaps I'm being petty. Perhaps it's the hormones talking. Or perhaps, just perhaps, I get tired of seeing myself and my friends, who really could use a few encouraging words now and again, to whom knowing that we've inspired kind feelings in someone we've never met would make a huge difference, shoved to the back of the "room" and ignored in favor of those who prefer their lives to be full of great drama, whether acknowledged conciously or not.   Perhaps it's something to think about. And perhaps five people will read this. I know my blog is not as widely followed as some, and five is the upper limit of my expectations. But then, I suppose since we as a society focus on those who provide drama, it shouldn't be so surprising that the same thing would happen in our private lives.   Or perhaps I'm just an idealist.
Kitrona

Kitrona

10
This Old Snark
 

Serving up Sexy with a Slice o' Surreal

Snarky would like to submit for the record that she is wearing a skirt to work today.   This is a rare occasion and had to be noted:   -knee high black Ecco boots (semi-sexy, mostly sensible) -pink and white striped knee high socks -gray flannel pin-striped long skirt (purchased from a punk store in downtown Asheville) that causes Snarky to walk like Morticia Addams -black stretch button down Banana Republic shirt -light pink railroad/ribbon yarn (inkdarkmoon: think Knitting Fever's Dazzle or somesuch) neck... thingy. It's a really skinny scarf that looks more like a deconstructed cravat -fuschia shrinky dink skulls earrings from Sweet Action Lab -red lip stain under sparkly lip gloss -Bearded Lady   There.   Tonight she and The Mister are going on a double date with their real estate agent and his wife. He's a pretty interesting guy, though the wife is a bit of a cipher still. They are going to see Inland Empire again because Mr. RealEstateAgent is a huge, huge David Lynch fan... which is very disconcerting for the Snarks. Lynch is a hard artist to pin down, but whatever anyone might think of when picturing a Lynch afficionado, Mr. REA is the exact opposite (or possibly dead on. It's really hard to tell.).
darkitysnark

darkitysnark

10
Fishnets and Frankincense
 

'80's video nostalgia

Thanks to YouTube, I can now find 1980's music videos to see if they were as good as I recalled. I always loved this one. In fact, it drove me crazy. And it still does! (Sorry for the primitive link, my operating system here at work doesn't let me use the link function.)   BTW, while this video aired at all hours of the day on MTV, I don't consider it entirely work-safe if your screen is exposed to interlopers.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjYuPAC6-lo
valentina

valentina

7
Forget Everything And Remember
 

Wow... 6 weeks already?

Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I'd figured on a due date around mid-September. After all, that's when my son was born, and I'd found out he was on his way around the same time.   However, I seem to be a little shaky on my counting-backwards skills. I had assumed I was about 3 or 4 weeks along, at most. Out of curiousity, though, last night I was tooling around the web and found a baby site, and was reading. Naturally, it had a due-date predictor. I plugged in the information requested, and got back mid-September as a due date. Ok, no surprise there. But it also said that I'm now 6 weeks along. I was not expecting THAT. I mean, it makes sense, but for some reason, my brain is still boggling.   Still, I guess that's good. It doesn't really change anything except in my head, so it's really neither good nor bad.   I also found out that I may be able (even encouraged) to get back on my antidepressants. That means I'll be able to sleep! And not be so cranky! And that will be good for all concerned.
Kitrona

Kitrona

0
Do you have a flag?
 

University-related question.

Here's a strange question for you. What do you do when you realize that your professor is giving wrong answers in class?   Last quarter I had a 300-level anatomy class. This quarter I have a 100-level physiology class. This is the first time this professor has taught at Northwestern -- usually she teaches at a community college.   Last week she mis-identified a bone on her own lecture slide as a humerus when it was very clearly a femur. She sort of hemmed and hawed over it for a couple of seconds and then said humerus. So it wasn't just an oral typo.   Last night she spelled the muscle sternocleidomastoid wrong on her lecture slide, and then she mispronounced it as well. But the real kicker was that she had it up there as an example of how muscles are sometimes named based on their points of insertion. She said this muscle is named for its three insertion points: the sternum, the clavicle [both true] and... "mastication, which is chewing, which means it goes into your neck." Ummm... no. It's attached to the mastoid process, which is a piece of the temporal bone of the skull that sticks down behind your ear.   I realize she may need to simplify some explanations because it's a 100-level class, but simplify does not mean the same thing as "tell students the wrong answer." When a student asked her what the difference was between "extends the thigh" and "extends the leg" when we were talking about different muscle functions, she didn't know the answer. Our anatomy professor beat us over the head with learning to call the upper part of the lower limb the "thigh" and the lower part of the lower limb the "leg." She told us specifically not to call the whole lower limb the "leg" because that was anatomically incorrect. So why did my physiology professor not know that?   I don't know what to do here. I paid full Northwestern tuition for this class, and this is the first time at Northwestern that I felt like I was getting a crappy education for my money. All my other Northwestern professors have been stellar.   Should I go to the dean? Should I ask my advisor what I should do? I've never been in this situation before and I don't know how to approach this.
filigree_shadow

filigree_shadow

2
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