afterallthistime: (Default)
There is basically no way you guys can fathom how badly my house needs cleaning. Like, going-on-three-weeks-behind on the laundry (luckily two of those weeks are clean laundry just waiting to be folded and hung), dirty dishes on the counters, pieces of the carpet THATTHE FUCKING CAT RIPPED UP all over the floor, cabinets in utter disarray, basically can't see the floor in my craft room... it's just a wreck, guys, seriously. And I haven't been to the gym in two weeks and all I've been eating is junk food and takeout, and I'm two days late for my period, and essentially I feel like utter shit. Not physically (though I'm crazy tired from hormonally-induced crying until 1am), but just mentally exhausted -- without even having started, I just feel so, so finished. Like, fuck this. Seriously, all I want to do is eat quesadillas and surf Pinterest (and, oh my God, who the fuck invented Pinterest? Do they have a personally vested interest in ensuring I never get the fuck off the internet? Because between Tumblr and Pinterest, I'm developi9ng carpal tunnel from clicking "repin/Reblog" all fucking day. I've bookmarked a shit ton of like, thirft store crafts and repurposing ideas, but I can't pull myself off Pinterest long enough to do them).

But I CAN'T just be like, "fuck it," because my sister gets married in eleven days, and all the prep work -- including the prep photos -- are being taken here. I have my sister and the maid of honor staying the night on the 19th, and the following morning, both the stylist and the photographer are coming by, so the house has to be clean AND I have to make breakfast for six. Luckily, the photographer is a friend we've known since she was, like, ten years old, and the stylist is my cousin Brian, but a.) it's still the first time either of them have been to my apartment and I want to have them think I'm a semi-functional adult who doesn't languish in her own filth, and b.) I don't want the backdrop of my sister's wedding prep photos to be a dirty house, because that would suck. So tonight I have to talk myself into getting my fuckig ass in gear and making some headway. Andy is home tomorrow, so more might get done with the two of us, but I'm flying solo for now.

Part of it is because weekend stuff just won't let up. Wrathskellar on Saturday was stellar, as I've come to expect from the Babydolls -- I've got some "behind-the-scenes" vids under the cut if anyone is interested -- and while not scary, it was definitely darker and more macabre than what they usually do, though even then, much of the "darkness" came in the form of black humor, and was sort of morbidly fun (Scratch's deadpan deliviery on the between vignette monologues was perfection). Everyone was wonderful, though I think my favorite performer was Brigitte Bisoux as "The Broad;" her performance of "Our Lady of the Underground" was wonderful, and of course I really liked Evie (my burlesque instructor), who was playing the role of The Martinet -- basically, a burlesque teacher who is the polar opposite of who she actually is in the studio ;) Devora Darling was supposed to play The Lost Girl, but I got word about a month or so ago that she had been pretty seriously injured, and they had to use an emergency replacement (as in, put out word for a casting call and freshly cast someone) and Coraline, who took her place, was great. The marionette piece (which is sampled in The Lost Girl video below) was one of my favorite vignettes and really eerie. As an aside, the Davis Square theatre is this super tiny basement theatre that seems just... oddly suited to burlesque.

I was all like, "YEAH! Gonna clean on SUNDAY!" but earlier in the week, Joce had texted asking if I was free Sunday, and upon having been told yes, in fact, I technically was... she promptly fell silent, no call, no text. nothing. Sunday morning (um, late morning) my brother texted and asked what was up and I said I didn't know; so he offered to meet me for coffee and come back to my house and help me get some stuff done. So we got coffee, got back to the house, and a little while later when he diecided he was hungry, I made apple muffins from scratch (super easy -- pretty good. Very delicate flavor). While the muffins were in the oven, Joce called and asked if I was free to stay the night, Brian was coming over to talk hair and do a test run on she and I, so... yeah. She got to my house, she helped me with laundry for a bit, we went to hers, ordered pizza, Brian came, and most of the night was spent like that. I didn't get home until after a late breakfast yesterday (around 1), and then Andy and I had to go shopping and I had a horrible, horrible case of car sickness after the drive from Derry.

On the plus side, ARRRRGHH, love the hairstyles we settled on. I don't know how Brian does it. First of all, I'm already blown away just because he curled my hair with a flatiron, whatwhat. My hair was smooth and glossy, and I didn't wash it yesterday because I wanted at least one extra day with it actually looking good. Mel couldn't be there, so it was hilarious and embarrassing watching Joce and I struggle to explain to Brian how long her hair was -- because only see her all the friggin' time -- well, me more so than Joce, to be fair -- so Brian decided (since i have WAY longer hair then Mel, and it would be impossible for him to give her the same style) to just give her a style based-off of mine, which is essentially a French/Belgian braid across the crown of my head that becomes an updo (wow, I SUCK at describing hairstyles), where she will have the same braid base, but it will trail off as curls instead of being all done up. It's a happy trade-off, I think, that we'll coordinate since we can't truly match. The two of us still need to get shoes, by the by. Hopefully Saturday. Piling a LOT of shit on Saturday's schedule at the moment. Sunday night be easier, come to that. Regardless, it basically has to be this coming weekend, since the wedding is the following weekend.

Is it weird that I'm as excited as I am for Joce's wedding? I just friggin' love ceremonies and things so much, and this is the first time since my own wedding I get to be in one, and this time, I don't have to be the one freaking out internally because I'm involved, but not in the spotlight, ha! Plus, ugh, it's going to be gorgeous. I didn't picspam my own wedding (I was just so friggin' wedding-ed out at that point, and Lance, nice as the pics were, had them come in to us an a goddamn molasses trickle), but expect pics from hers.

I can sense your excitement at the prospect.
afterallthistime: (what's my perversion?)
The Babydolls recently sent out an e-mail detailing a Student Recital -- all present and past Babydoll students are welcome to come and perform. Trouble is, it's in November (like, right in the middle of November), and between all the shit going on in October, plus the fact that November is NaNoWriMo, another huge time-sink of a creative endeavor, there is basically no way I could prepare an act by then.

However, there's also the all-night, over-night burlesque show they do in December, which wlso welcomes B.A.B.E. students, and during which a number of newcomers make their debut performances.

I'm absolutely fuck terrified, but I kind of want to do this.

You all know the two songs I've been considering -- my reservations regarding each are mostly about length, specifically that "Fingertips" is too long (a bit over 4 min.) and "O Death" is too short (2 mins., just). Having specifically talked with Evie regarding "ideal" length for a performance, I know 4 minutes isn't exceptionally long, though she did make it a point to say that people's attention spans are shrinking, and to keep that in mind while choosing music. At the moment, I'm leanign toward "O Death," particularly as a first performance piece, but if anyone wants to give their opinion, I am open to it.

Also, whent he time comes, if anyone is in the Boston area and wants to watch my humiliate myself while half-naked, please feel free to pop by and point and laugh (or say hi, or whatev).

((OMG, I feel like I'm basically never on here unless I "need" to make a post. I will seriously try to catch up this weekend. This is the last free weekend I have until November, so I sort of have to make the most of it, in terms of catching up on... well, everything.))

Four notes.

Sep. 1st, 2012 10:17 pm
afterallthistime: (holy crap)
I've been feeling very lethaaaaargic and just "meh" lately, which isn't to say I've been feeling bad or down, per se, just not much in the blogging mood. Like, I haven't even been reblogging on Tumblr, and I usually do that like it's my motherfuckin' job or something.

Just a few notes:


1. I had my last class with the Babydolls on Thursday. I will be taking more classes with them, continuing with the burlesque education, but not this fall -- possibly in the winter or spring. The final class was boa work, removing a bra, and tassle-twirling. Frankly, there's really no way to twirl tassles without looking silly -- it's either jumping up and down and just letting everything bounce, or putting both arms straight up in the air, fingers pointed like guns, and shoulder-shimmying. Both ways are super fun and work, don't get me wrong, but silly as shit. It's one of those moves that strikes me very much as a classic burlesque move, and while I love, love, love watching classic burlesque (which is a lot of what the Babydolls do), it's not the kind of thing I see myself doing. I've been listening to my chosen music a lot lately, because my iPod's favorite setting is Infinite Repeat (1), and have been doing a lot of visualization as to what my performance would look like, from moves, to transitions, to strips and even costuming. It's classy, but not the strict kind of classic burlesque that seems suited to those kinds of maneuvers, and the latest song I've been thinking of performing too deviates even further from those routes -- "O Death," by Jen Titus.

I've been envisioning this one as well, but sadl, in the stage I'm at with it at the moment, it works best (in my mind) as a two person piece, and I don't know anyone else willing to practice this/perform this with me. Anyway, yeah -- tassle-twirling is easy-peasy, though not something I can see doing in any act I'd put together -- not to mention that even having gone from a double-D to a B, my breasts are still heavy enough that that kind of vigorous bouncing is kind of uncomfortable -- Evie (our instructor) has cute little A-cups, so it's not such a big deal for her, but it get's uncomfortable real fast if you're bigger. Also, removing pasties is uncomfortable, and the adhesive is kind of a bitch.

The Feast:

2. I went to The Feast of the Three Saints last night with my brother, Ryan, and Amanda. It's sad how every year the space the festivities occupy gets smaller and smaller... There was a time when it took up two blocks and the Common, and now it's a block at best, and no one comes to perform on the Common any more (we used to have a lot of old timers, older Italian singers and just older performers: the last few years before they stopped, I saw Frankie Valle, BJ Thomas, and Connie Francis). They had Beatle Juice performing on the St. Alfio stage last night, outside Holy Rosary, and they weren't bad, even though we didn't stay for too much of their set. I generally go to hang out in a festive atmosphere with my brother and friends -- stuff like the carnival games and even the majority of food has gotten, over the last few years, too damn expensive (and I've been burdened with more and more "real life" expenses). Last night I got two slices of Tripoli's pizza ($3.50, not bad) and an ice cream cone (fucking $6.00, are you fucking kidding?? But then, I should have fucking asked before I ordered. Still, what the shit. And that's common. That's, like, typical).

One of the upsides was running into Lance, who, despite having a Facebook, updates it so infrequently as for it to be all but meaningless for him to even have one. I know I've mentioned Lance here before, but as a quick recap, he's a friend who dates back to my brother's grade school days (he, like Rob and Andy both, is four years my junior), was out of the picture all through his high school years, and resurfaced shortly thereafter had a stint -- a pretty long stint -- of time where he practically lived with us, then had long stretches of time when we'd hear jackshit from him, and then he'd suddenly turn up again, seemingly out of nowhere. There was a rough patch of time, which was rough for reasons I don't feel comfortable going into at this juncture, about a year or two ago when he joined the military and was sent away to boot camp and communication basically fucking STOPPED. And for a while now, we had no idea where he was -- here (MA), Georgia (where base was), anywhere in between (they kept shipping him all over). Well, last night, he said he'd been trying to text me the last few days, but wasn't sure if I'd gotten them, because his carrier has been weird (I believe him, because my carrier did they EXACT same thing last year, where my texts were just sporadically never send or never arrive). He's living in Worcester now, which isn't exactly close, but it's closer than fucking Mansfield and Hopkinton, which were the two places he had been living before. He's living with a friend named Arianna that he apparently thought we might know (shrug) and dating a girl who, um, he introduced us to, but whose name already escapes me. She's a student at Brandeis, though, that I remember. He's going to be at the Corpus Christi Parish tonight and tomorrow night doing face-painting, so after we get back from Camelot tomorrow, we might swing by to see him.

The End of Summer:

3. I love the fall. Like, I really do. And I'm kind of excited about the school year, only because it kind of feels like a blank slates, which means a genuine opportunity for a crapload of awesome stuff (it also means chances that a crapload of utter shit will happen as well, but let's try to stay positive). But everything going on this fall -- I've got the 5k to run, my sister's bachelorette, my sister's wedding, Halloween, Wrathskellar, GISHWHES, Thanksgiving, apple-picking, registering for Anime Boston, registering for MJ -- like, I'm psyched. Seriously. But I kind of feel like I've wasted summer as a season -- today, TODAY, I finally went to the beach for the second time this summer. I live in freaking Massachusetts, people. I'm in a coastal state. I'm 35 minutes from the ocean. I have no excuse. So we went today for a few hours -- oh my GOD. I was sure that one of two things would happen -- the holiday weekend would mean that it would be overcrowded and parking costs would be sky high and it would be awful, or the sudden change over to September would mean it was freaking freezing and the place would be dead and awkward and sad. But actually? The weather was beautiful -- like, nice enough that I spent quite a while in the water -- all day parking was $5, and the beach was full but not crowded, and the rides both in and out were smooth and painless. Argh, such a gorgeous beach day. Between today and yesterday though, man, when I get back to the gym on Tuesday (we'll be out all day tomorrow and the gym is closed Labor Day), I will need it. But fuck it, it's my last hurrah, man, I'm going to enjoy it while I can.


4. I was contacted by a member of a team who wanted to recruit me, so we back-and-forthed messaged a bit, but two days later and I still haven't heard; meanwhile, her team leader has been reblogging a list of people on the team, and yeah... my name isn't on there. Now, the team members were all significantly younger than me (between 17 and college upper-classmen), so maybe they didn't want someone so much older than them, and they were all from the Southern US, so I don't necessarily regret if I don't make their team (having an international team gives you a BIG advantage), but I'd like to know so I can either 1. find another team on Tumblr, 2. recruit enough people to build my own team, or 3. prep myself for solo registration and being assigned to a team.

Also, I found last year's list of "items." It's like something borne out of a fever dream. So fucking bizzare. But I'm psyched. Oh, and holy shit, the prize?? We'd be flown out to Scotland to have a ghost hunt and slumber party at a haunted castle with our teammates and Misha. WTF. Absolutely every aspect of that appeals to me hardcore (my brother and I were fangirl/boying -- we wonder if it's Leap Castle?? That place is supposed to be ridiculously haunted). Super pumped.

PS: Oooh, I also meant to mention, still a little threadbare, but this is my new fandom merch store front. Buying from here, if you are likwise a fan of any of my fandoms, would be awesomesauce, thanks.
afterallthistime: (Default)
I'm feeling strangely restless right now -- there are a dozen things I should do/want to do, but I don't know what to focus on. On the plus side, my knee feels WORLDS better today, good enough that the plan is to start back up at the gym on Sunday (not necessarily running, but there are other, lower impact cardio exercises I can do). I'd like to resume the running by September 1st, though, so I can get in the last two weeks of "official" training up, and then do some speed work and hills.

Some of the improvement to my knee may have to do with last night's burlesque class, which was almost entirely floor work. The stripping topic was stocking removals, so we did a lot of work on our backs, with our legs: stroking one leg with the other, tear drops, the bicycle, and splays. Splays were interesting in a class of ten with limited floor space, because at any given moment, it felt like a very really possibility that you were going to get smothered by someone else's thighs. The floor moves are an incredible ab workout, but also a lot of slow, repetitive leg and knee movement, which I honestly think really helped. We did a choreographed rehearsal of the last two weeks in groups of three, as well -- bumps, grinds, shimmies, glove removals, shirt and skirt removals, floor work, and stocking removals -- and I discovered that when I'm choreographed, the self-conciousness goes away all but completely. So long as I have a planned routine, I can do all the moves and do them quite well (with the exception of shoulder shimmies; hip shimmies are no problem, but I can't isolate my shoulders, I either wind up doing basically a full body shimmy or look like I'm having a seizure. There is no in-between). I'm considering planning out choreography to a song I've loved for a long time, that I already have some ideas for, and when the circumstances are right (i.e., when I have the money to spend) taking the Babydolls' advanced class, and then at some point in the future, attending the Expo's amateur competition. (The song, by the way is Fingertips, by Poe).

I've spent today doing a few things I guess I could consider productive: started work on my cosplay helmet, finally; it's still in the base stage, still sort of just a prototype. I've cut out the face and made one horn out of cardstock and paper, will probably "flesh it out" with Model Magic, but at least this way the weight will be less than making the whole thing out of clay. I also designed another sticker/shirt to go along with the one I designed last night for my new RedBubble store -- I'm jumping ship on Zazzle because RedBubble is better known in the circles I travel, and because it is overall a lot kinder to fan-made fan merchandise. I've gotten about fifty page views thus far and about a dozen Tumblr reblogs, plus the items are showing up in the searches, so I hope to make a few sales soon. The two items right now are text-only, one for Avengers and one for SuperWhoLock -- I have another SuperWhoLock design (graphic) to work on, and another exclusively Supernatural design (also graphic) and those will likely take a while, since I have NO graphic skills whatsoever.

I did a little bit of crocheting, and might do a little more, and then read a bit. I'm just never in a reading mood anymore, and that makes me sad. Once I settle in and sort of make myself start, I usually get sucked right in, but getting myself to stop whatever and actually pick up the book has become a chore. It's ridiculously sad, really.

Tomorrow, maybe the beach, maybe some chores and then taking a nice long walk to get myself back in gear in a low-impact way. A week and a half left -- I'd be lying if I said part of me isn't excited, but part of me is just dreading the same old, same old. Which is why, again -- find fullfillment elsewhere.

I'm trying, I'm trying.

ETA: Ever have moments when you just realize, definitively, that you are a massive nerd? I just downloaded a font for Cirucular Gallifreyan. BEAT THAT.
afterallthistime: (i am human)

Yeah, so yesterday I did some puttering around the house and all was fine until around 4:30 when I decided to walk to the gym, and my knee started to feel... funny. Didn't really hurt, exactly, but felt like... you know how sometimes you get, like, air bubbles of whatever in your joints, like you just need to pop them? That happens to my knee with fair frequency, and usually the only fix is to walk it off, basically. So I walk to the gym, and while at the gym, I continue with my 5k routine. I'm on Week Seven of Eight -- run 1.5 miles, walk two minutes, repeat once. I run a 10.42 minute mile, but I decided to run 17 minutes for my 1.5 miles, just because it was an easier to pick a whole number than try to remember that I was running an extra 5.21 minutes, and besides which, the next step up is "Run 2 miles, walk 2 minutes," so I figured the closer I could managed to two miles this week (even if it's only marginally), the better.

On the first run through, my knee felt basically the same as it had, and then, right before I switched to the walking portion, it started to feel better, so I figured, problem solved. On the second leg of running, about seven minutes or so before cooldown, it started feeling weird again. I finished out my run and hit cooldown, and that's when it really started hurting. I finished out my regular weight routine, minus legs weights, and walked home -- my knees actually hurting at this point, but there was no one to call to get me, so tough shit, really. It's been bothering me ever since, and stairs are a real burden today. My mum was kind enough to lend me the brace, which does help a bit, but what really pisses me off was after a week of doing fuck all NOTHING physical, I finally manage to gather my willpower to get back on track, and I manage to incur an injury doing fuck all NOTHING, seriously. I'll lay off because I basically have to, because if I push too hard now, I'm just going to further incapacitate myself and possibly even do some real longterm damage, and while I'm not exactly renowned for my great life choices, I'm not a complete fucking idiot, either. The race isn't until September so it's not like I don't have plenty of recovery time AND training time still left, but this feels like a huge pain in the ass.

It's not even that I've been suffering huge set backs in terms of objective "evidence;" my weight has been holding fairly steady at around 141, which is the lowest I've been since, um, 7th grade? (The summer after 8th grade, when I had my physical before entering high school, my records say I was 148 lbs.). I have better stamina (shit, running 1.5 miles without stopping? Three years ago, carrying the groceries upstairs was reason enough for a time out while I got my breath back and recovered. When I started going to the gym, two minutes on the elliptical made me dizzy and prompted a ten to fifteen minute recovery period). I look at myself in the mirror in the morning, naked, and in generally, I'm fairly pleased with what I see (minus the saggy skin and the stretch marks, but I have a few specialized lotions that are supposed to help with those particular maladies -- and really, because the weight loss was so gradual, the saggy skin thing isn't AWFUL, but it's not great, either. And I'm almost resigned to the stretch marks; I've had them for basically my entire life, but if the lotion can help, even better). I'm happier with my appearance now than I ever have been. I'm proud of the headway I've made, I'm proud of the fact that I've stuck with this as long as I have, because for years (and years and years) I would embark on this journey and then throw up my hands and scream "FUCK THIS" every time an obstacle cropped up in my path. So why am I still so obsessed with this?

Because I am afraid that at any minute, that person -- the lie down and give up person -- is going to resurface, and I have to push extra hard to keep her at bay. I have to remain constantly conscious of where I am and what I am doing, because I am afraid that I am going to scream "FUCK IT" at any second and go back to the way things were. It's an equal battle, because I want to actually have a healthier attitude towards eating in general, and that means NOT being such a fucking "health" Nazi that I DON'T sometimes let myself skip a day of exercise (or two) or that I DON'T sometimes let myself eat a (reasonable) portion of ice cream, because for fuck's sake, indulgence in moderation is fine, it keeps us sane -- except when it drives us crazy. But I try to ride out the anxiety and the gult and hope that I can condition myself to accept that fact that this is okay, it's okay to not always be on guard, and that I am not going to become this unhealthy, sedentary person again just because I allow myself the luxuries that everyone else is allowed to have.

I think I'm less worried about actually gaining weight than I am worried that I'm going to fall back into bad habits, because my entire life has been a series of attempting things and (eventually) giving up, because they were to difficult, because I was not rewarded with immediate gratification, because "what the fuck is the point, anyway," because giving up was easier than trying and failing, etc. I want to know I can do something and stick with it, and despite proving to basically everyone else who isn't me that I obviously can do this -- and despite knowing, intellectually, that I have achieved this goal -- I instead instinctively wait for the other shoe to drop, because that has been my life, my entire life.

I'm reading a book about phobias -- Wish I Could be There: Notes from a Phobic Life -- and I just started it, only about 45 pages in. the author spends a lot of time talking about phobias being, often times, exaggerated versions of legitimate fears -- people who are hydrophobic, for instance, might be afraid of drowning, which is technically a possibility, but some hydrophobes won't even go near water, even water in which the possibility of drowning is practically non-existent (and frankly, it's a fair long-shot in general -- I can't swim, and can still go in a pool (if I lose balance, or feel "out of control" (weirdly enough, this includes being on a "floatie" or a raft!) I freak. the fuck. OUT) and have yet to drown... um, obviously). So, the "seed" of the fear might be legitimate, but the response to the fear is completely out of control.

But, like, what about fears that seem to come kind of out of nowhere? Like, that don't even HAVE a logical fear embedded somewhere in the exaggerated response? Because I can tell you two fears I have, one of which I will have a full on, phobic attack if confronted with, one of which I won't, but I will still freak out, and the thought of which makes me queasy and hugely uncomfortable.

The first one -- moths and butterflies. I'm PETRIFIED of moths and butterflies. I have a full on flailing, screaming, running for cover attack, heart palpitations galore if one gets near me. I loathe insects of all kinds, and have similar reactions to spiders (but, you know, so do a million other people), but not to flies, which is weird. I think something about the erratic ways butterflies and moths fly contribute to the freaking-me-the-fuck-out factor. I'm never quite sure which way they're going because they fly like they're stoned out of their fucking minds. I can't stand it. (My one consolation is apparently Karen Gillan is afraid f them too. That makes me feel a little better?)

The other not-quite-a-phobia-but-freaks-me-out people -- including, to a lesser extent, myself -- touching my belly button. Horrifies me. My husband had to touch inside my belly button for ~reasons~ a few months ago, and I was shaking and nearly in tears. It's awful.

There are other things that freak me out on a full-out phobic level, though the only one that comes to mind right now is heights -- and other things that just bother me on a level a notch or two down from phobia, like throwing up, getting injections, and eyeballs (watching people touch them, like putting in contacts, etc. makes me literally weak kneed and sick to my stomach).

Like, what ~legitimate fear~ exists as the root of any of that stuff??

Random other things that don't really warrant separate entries, so I'll just stick them here:

  • The Boston Babydolls' Wrathskellar has a one-day sale today for opening weekend tickets. If you've never seen the Babydolls and you're in the Boston area, here is my official endorsement (yeah, that's right. I approve. And my opinion carries a fuck-ton of merit). They've been performing Wrathskellar for a few years now and I've yet to go, so I'm glad they're offering the discount tix. Andy and I will be there on October 6th. (my burlesque instructor is a principal performer as well, so I'm quite excited to go, she's ridiculously cute).

  • Despite my injury, I registered for the Running Dead 5k this evening, before it filled up. Zombie reg. was already filled, which is what finally got my ass in gear. September 29th, 6:30 pm @ Gallows Hill Park in Salem, MA.

  • I'm going to check when "last call" for registration is, just so I don't use up any single month's discretionary budget on future endeavors (I'd like to have some cash on hand each month for spur-of-the-moment things), but so long as I can submit my registration in a reasonable amount of time, I'll be taking a four week vocal workshop at NECCO in November/December.

  • On Season Five of Supernatural, and someone posted a great thing to Tumblr the other day: "One does not like Supernatural. One simply hates themselves enough to allow their happiness to be permanently destroyed by Supernatural." OH GOD, IT'S ALL TRUE. (Also, I fell for the boys hard and fast, but HOLY FUCK, Misha Collins is a sexy beast).

  • Going to Dave & Buster's tomorrow with Andy, Piper and Josiah. Betting money that Josiah is going to stake out the Star Trek machine, cash in his tickets ever round, buy a fuck-ton of candy, and go on a massive sugar high. If there's something there he really, really wants, he may forego the sugar high for a bigger prize, but the rest of my prediction still stands. I will personally be staking out the Mega Stacker, bitches.

  • Avengers special features have been uploaded to Tumblr. Holy shit, is Steve's deleted scene depressing as hell. Oh, God. Also, Cobie Smulders during the gag reel ("COUUUULSOOOOOOOON! NOOOOOOO!") cracked me the fuck up.

  • I've been crocheting a cool forest green vine scarf which has been turning out super well, but which has been put on hiatus for a few days because I've been wearing fake nails (cause I'm a classy gal) and don't have the dexterity to crochet with them on.

  • Ordered 12 buttons -- slogan buttons, you know the kind -- with the money I earned on Zazzle from my fandom merch., and they are a pleasing mix of political, personal, and fannish -- and also completely cover my purse. I think I'm going to buy a messenger bag purse so the buttons can live comfortable on the shoulder strap and I can have one SANE bag to carry around to less "understanding" places.

  • I've started calling River "Honey Badger," because she doesn't give a fuck. Every time she gallops across the house, I yell, "HONEY BADGER DON'T CARE."

  • HOLY CRAP, that kid's movie, Paranorman, has an OPENLY GAY character, who is, apparently NOT a stereotype. That's....freaking AWESOME.

That's all for tonight, folks. Ja ne.
afterallthistime: (Default)
Work tomorrow. I know I said I was excited about summer session, and I kind of am, but I loathe the first day of anything -- I create these horrible scenarios in my head and build up my incompetence in my mind until I'm basically like, "You are never going to be able to adequately handle the almost certainly inevitable clusterfuck that this experience will be!!" and the entire night before, I'm sleepless and anxious and hyperventilating and regretting every decision that ever lead me to this point in my life, and then I have to face the day, and -- usually it's fine, and even when it's not fine, it's only not fine for a while, and then things happen, dynamics shift, someone picks up the slack, and I get my head on properly and life goes on. I know this. This DOESN'T make the anticipation any easier.

So, yes, today is kind of an emotionally shitty day for me, but by tomorrow afternoon, I should be fine.

My husband celebrated his 26th birthday last night (though his birthday proper is today). It was a small gathering and we played this game called Twilight Imperium which, honestly, fuck all if I knew what the fuck was going on half the time. Jamie and I kept texting each other about ways to escape, which, as we had to assure Dan, was entirely about the game mechanics and not at all about the other players. It was a good, small group -- Andy's dad and brother for a while earlier in the day; his sister, who stuck around to stay the night; Jamie and Dan; and Dan (too many fucking Dans in our life...) Andy seemed to enjoy himself, and that's really the point of a birthday celebration, yes??

Yesterday was sort of doubly awesome because my Math Essentials professor was like, "As a last order of business" at like 1:30, and i was all, "FUCK YES, IF WE END NOW I CAN CATCH AN EARLIER TRAIN," and then proceeded to hold class until almost 2:10, at which point he was like, "You can be dismissed," and I was all **Jessica-shaped cloud of dust lingering comically in the doorway**, and fucking RAN to the Central Square T station, waited way too long for the Braintree T, got on, got completely disoriented at the Park Street station, waited FOREVER for a train to North Station that wasn't shoulder-to-shoulder packed, got to North Station at 2:33, bolted to the ticket counter where there was a fucking LINE AND A HALF, got ripped off at the automated ticket booth ($8.00, you fucking bastard son of a whore bitch), and ran to board the 2:45 train at 2:41 -- and I was fucking TRIUMPHANT, because I had a massive fucking headache, had had no caffeine, and had I NOT caught that train, the earliest train I could have then caught out of Boston was at 5:50. So, if summation, FUCK YES. I've got one more session of this class on the 21st, and that falls during the week that Piper will be staying with us, so Andy and she might just drive in to meet me when class ends and we'll go to late lunch/dinner somewhere local to class (I'm getting the sense that we might be out super, super early, and if that's the case, I'm just going to wander around Central Square for a while, because there are some really cool looking stores and cafes there that I haven't had the time to explore on my lunch breaks). I'm also becoming tempted to look up the cost of living somewhere like Central Square -- it's probably through the fucking roof, but I'm still curious. Living that much closer to Boston proper would open a whole slew of jobs up to me, and Andy's company is statewide, so he could very likely get a transfer (these are all just pipe dreams, of course, but I'm still going to look this shit up, because why not).

Because I got out of class so super early, though, and I couldn't in good conscience just NOT go home during Andy's birthday gathering when I totally had the opportunity to, I missed the Whovian cosplay picnic on the Common, which makes me kind of sad; the Boston Whovians seem to have a lot more members who actually live IN Boston, as opposed to the Sherlockians, who seem to be spread a bit more evenly throughout Massachusetts (and those who do live in Boston do so for school, so their free days and mine coincide more regularly -- for instance, the Whovians are like, 'hey, who wants to meet up next Wednesday?' and everyone goes 'YEAH SURE,' meanwhile the Sherlockians are like, 'So, three Saturdays from now, is that awesome for everyone? Everyone, yes? Yes?') The Boston Sherlockians are currently brainstorming renting out part of the Sommerville Theatre to do a private screening of some of Seasons One and/or Two of Sherlock, and if we got enough people to fill the theatre (it seats 31), we could do it for a pretty low cost for a pretty long time (marathon of Series Two, please?? NEED TO SEE... REICHENBACH... WITH PEOPLE... WHO SHARE MY FEELS....) I know we wanted to do an August meet-up, so I don't know if that will be it or not, but either way, hells yeah.

Other things to look forward to:

1. Piper is staying over for a week starting July 18th. Basically, our evenings will consist of she and I, in separate rooms, reblogging things on Tumblr, lol. I'd feel bad, but... that's what she does. And that's what I do. And so, yeah. That's what we'll do. It will be interesting to not have an empty house every night, though. And I might have folks over some of those nights, anyway.
2. Got a page of notes for my podcast. Want to talk Fifty Shades of Grey, and the vehement reaction Tumblr has had to it (including what the now public knowledge of FSoG originally being fanfic is affecting mainstream media's already skewed perception of participatory fans, and what fics, if any, deserved to be published in lieu of FSoG) -- I think it's an interesting direction to explore, especially because it's not like there isn't a precedent for published fanfic (some of it officially sanctioned, and some not), and this is the second time I can think of a Big Name Fan in a Big Name Fandom has becoming a published author (the first being, of course, Cassie Claire). Just need people with whom to hold this discussion.
3. Finished my first five pack of cards and started to set up my Etsy store. One card away from finishing my second five-pack/first themed five-pack.
4. I read the official break-down of the Burlesque classes I'm taking in August. Oh my God, you guys. The final lesson is "the Big Reveal" and "tassel twirling." I'M DYING, YOU GUYS. I GET TO WEAR FUCKING TASSELS, HOLY SHIT. I'M PISSING MYSELF.
5. I turn 30 in three weeks and that means 1. celebration, 2. tattoo (if I can psych myself up for it), 3. kitty!!

Also, holy shit, as I mentioned in my voice meme, I finally started watching Supernatural after meaning to for, like two years, and I know I said I'd give myself until halfway through the season before Wincest shipping, but -- I'm on episode eight, and I had a Wincest dream last night, and guys, there has to be something wrong with me, right? Like, I'm fine with that. I'm not out to change it, or be embarrassed or ashamed about it, but... there's still something wrong with me, right? Something gloriously, fabulously wrong.

Alright, I'm going to go. I'm feeling mega-sedentary and blergh today, so I'm going to text my brother and go for a walk. Peace, love, and pineapples, all.
afterallthistime: (smart funny beautiful)
Summer Program

So I'm officially on vacation until July 9th. This pleases me. On the 9th, of course, I start the five-week SPED summer session, which should be "interesting." It's the same program I worked last year, with the same adult team, but instead of having four kids, we'll be having about ten, which is, if you don't know, a significant difference.

The range of abilities (and disabilities) last year was more uniform -- all of the kids had intellectual disabilities, and one of the girls had a chromosomal disorder that required some special medical attention, but they were all on even footing in most respects.

This year, all the students once again have some level of intellectual impairment, but within that we have some kids who, at age fourteen or fifteen, are functioning at the level of three year olds, and some who are functioning at the level of, say, seven or eight year olds (which is, if you don't know, a significant difference). Also thrown into the mix, we have two students with Down's Syndrome, one with Kabuki Syndrome, one with autism, and one with "a partial deletion of Chromosome 15," which is something I know NOTHING about, so... that should be fun. The classroom set-up is going to be more focused on academics this year, so we have ELA, Math, and Life Skills stations (I'll be doing ELA), but we will also still be doing cooking, APE, vocational training, games, and trips downtown (walking downtown with a group this big will be a new experience -- last year I don't think we ever took more than three kids down).

I'm looking forward to it, because it will be a novel experience and I have met most of the kids before and they are good kids, like, really good kids, but in the course of my day-to-day work atthe school, I don't generally work with kids who are so severely impacted by their disabilities -- my normal job puts me with high-functioning spectrum kids (Asperger's, HF autism, other non-verbal LDs), kids with specific learning disabilities, and kids with anxiety/depression disorders. This is all fairly new territory for me, so that's both exciting and terrifying.


Speaking of both exciting and terrifying, Andy has already bought me one of my birthday gifts -- four sessions of burlesque classes with The Boston Babydolls. I'm psyched, because this is giving me the impetus I need to reach my goal weight before August (like, 6 pounds to go, damn it! After that it'll just be icing) as well as fullfilling one of my New Year's Resolutions/Bucket List goals. If I like the experience, I'll continue the training out of pocket at some point (probably stagger the lessons os I'm not sinking my entire monthly budget into classes every month), but I'm looking forward to giving this a go.


My husband also bought me this new skintight red minidress I'd been oogling at Charlotte Russe (I'm so psyched I can actually fit into clothing from there, now), and I have officially dubbed it my Birthday Dress, so I am going to have to find someplace appropriately swanky for my birthday festivities. I have also purchased a new bikini (WAH IT IS ADORABLE) and new bras, because the others were woefully huge on me (the bad news: I've gone from a D-cup to a B-cup. This displeases me. I miss my boobs. I miss them hardcore). Also, if you want to see the red dress, here it is (also, yes, I will be wearing it for real with a bra, I was wearing a sports bra the day I tried it on, so I had to just... go without) )

I am currently S-T-A-R-V-I-N-G, so I'm going to start thinking about lunch options and then attempt to finally finish my Geometry homework or something equally productive (just because I'm on vacation doesn't mean there's not stuff to be done). Anyway. Cheers.

(PS: Yeah, I've not forgotten about my 100 Things... thing. I'll try to put up some new entries this week. ADD has been kicking my ass royally, lately.)


afterallthistime: (Default)
we understand the lights.

May 2013

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