Newest Quote: "After all, emotion and logic are mortal enemies." ~Carly
- Mood:
sleeeeep
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fanficrants:
OP: "Dear Anastasia writer. your summary is as follows:
"When Anastasia's son, Alexander, is up next to the Russian throne, he's going to need the help from his friends: Svetlana, Joseph Stalin's daughter"
LOL What!? Joseph Stalin's daughter is friends with the grandson of the last Czar of Russia? THAT Joseph Stalin!?"
Commentor: "Now you've got me picturing the wedding, and it's bloody hilarious.
"Your daughter is a little proletariat whore! She is not good enough for my son!"
"Your son is a bourgeois asshat!"
"Your mother is so communist she shares her ass with the rest of the gulag each night! The sainted Czar Nicholas had a piece of her the night before the revolution!"
"Don't you talk about my mother that way! My mother was a saint! Your father was a royal douche!"
*fisticuffs, guns firing, revolting, communism*
Oh, history. Why must you be so horrible and so lulzy at the same time?
(Appropriate icon is VERY appropriate, y/y?)
Test tomorrow I don't wanna take, aaaaaaaagh~
In other news, I feel like crap. A real post in a day or so, depending.
( I could get used to finishing stuff... )
- Mood:
accomplished
So I got the idea: what if I got a group of people together to work on this, and we could all send it off as one big group?
This wouldn't be a "you *have* to do this much by this date" project; it would be more of a "let's do as much as we can by this date and then send it all off at once" project. That way, participants would have other people to work with/encourage, there's a not a lot of pressure, and everyone's not all paying for international shipping; everyone can just send/give stuff to me (since this crazy thing is my idea...), and I'll send it off.
A lot of the links on that site are outdated/DNE; however, I have a ton of simple patterns available if anyone's interested. I'm also willing to start/head up a Facebook group if that will encourage people, and that would provide an easy place to post patterns and resources.
The thing with projects like this is, if you just do it yourself, you feel that you're not really accomplishing anything. Oh, look, I made three hats and scarf. Big deal. But if you get half a dozen or a dozen people together to work on it, you can accomplish a lot. Kind of like gathering canned foods at Dare2Share; alone we get three or four bags - together we fill four PODS full.
If you are interested, feel free to email me at schimmels DOT 2 AT wright DOT edu. (Trying to protect from spam there...) I have a list of resources/patterns for people who are interested. It doesn't require a lot of skill; the focus is on warmth and simplicity.
P.S. Carly? This would be a great reason to learn to knit.
46 days until Christmas.
...Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap.
*deep breath* Okay, I can do this. Let's see how the list is coming.
Mum's gifts: done.
Dad's gift: done, as of today. *dances*
Sarah's gift: done.
Carly's gifts: still not done. (BAD LADYTEMERAIRE. BAD.)
Janette's gift: almost done.
Ethan's gift: nowhere near done.
Brian's gift: still yarn.
Ammah's commission, due in 2 weeks: a little over half done.
Chris' gift: ...well, I know what I want to make him... and I have the yarn...
Sami's gift: ditto.
...I can do this. I think. Now if only I could drag myself away from this sleeve.
Also. Changed the blog title and layout (I like this so much better. The other one felt cramped), which will last for a while... probably change it to a general one around New Year's. I really like the bookish one I had before.
I saw a flair today on Facebook that said "I do it continental style". I laughed my head off over the cleverness, then laughed again when Carly thought it had something to do with "Hetalia, shipping, and possibly sex". (Hint: it doesn't.) Knitting in-jokes FTW. I'm half-tempted to add it just to freak out the muggles.
Done now, gonna go knit.
- Mood:
amused
Video kindly provided by one of my lovely readers on fanfiction.net.
This doesn't bother me, honestly. There's far worse things she could be doing. I don't have any objections to RPGs; it just struck me as a bit odd, since she didn't seem like the kind of person who would be interested in that. (Yeah, I know - stereotyping. *Gibbs-smacks self*) There she was, though, playing with her boyfriend and chatting to him over a headset.
As I thought about it, I started to wonder why people play games, be they regular computer games or MMORPG like WOW. My dad does Facebook games like Farmville and Mafia Wars, and used to play KotOR, and Ethan likes to play SW Battlefront. I mean, what do they get out of it? What satisfaction do they derive from it? What's the point?
Then I realized that I've been asked many of those same questions, except about knitting.
( It's not as crazy as it sounds. )
- Music:"Tocatta and Fugue", Bach
metaquotes:"Twilight porn" is an extremely uncomfortable phrase as it is; these are two words that do not want to be in the same sentence together. Twilight is huddled in the corner weeping, and porn is banging on the quotation marks trying to get out.
XDDDDD Brb, new community to join.
Also, seen in the comments on
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pyrrhiccomedy's fabulous post:Q: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist Party?
A: Only when my local CWRS chapter is short on the Soviet side for MAD Volleyball! We don't actually play volleyball; we just sit around on either side of the net, glaring at each other and making bitchy comments about how they'd better not be the first ones to throw the ball.
8:00 - wake up early enough to exercise befor 9:45 pickup for dr's appt.
8:15 - text from mum. Dr's appt must be moved due to the majority of our family being sick. Decide to work out anyway.
8:30 - devos on the ellipticals.
8:50 - mind wanders hither and yon on the treadmill.
9:15 - shower.
9:30 - Fill sink with soapy water to wash handknit socks. Go downstairs (2 flights of stairs) to start delicate/light colors load. Head back upstairs. Work on Chemistry homework.
9:35 - Go downstairs to start darks/colors load. Head back upstairs. Fight with drying rack. Work on Chemistry homework.
10:00 - Go downstairs to pull out air-drying garments and throw everything else in the dryer. Head back upstairs. Let water drain in sink; refill with clear water for rinse. Work on Chemistry homework.
10:30 - Walk to the Hangar to get lunch. Walk back. Work on Chemistry homework.
10:45 - finish lunch. Go downstairs to get dry clothes. Fold everything, double-checking for all the socks. Head back upstairs. Work on Chemistry homework. Swear at the computer (optional).
12:00 - give up on Chemistry. Knit instead. Glory in the perfection of well-executed lace.
12:35 - pick up for appt. Leave lace behind, as it requires charts.
1:45 - return from appt.
1:50 - leave for engineering lab (starts at 2:15)
3:15 - done with lab! Huzzah!
3:45 - finished with abstract for lab! Huzzah!
4:00 - class.
5:35 - class is finished early! Huzzah! Turn in lab and get teriyaki beef for dinner.
6:45 - start up on Chemistry homework again.
That's about it so far. Also, I finished the River Rapids socks - pics on Saturday. Today I started the Gr*ff*nd*r scarf for a classmate of mine (commission! Huzzah!) for the third time, because I apparently cannot count to 45. (Don't ask.) However, I refrained from also starting Ethan's fingerless gloves. Will finish Janette's gift first. Seriously, I'm ridiculously close to being done.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have clothes to put away and chemistry to finish.
P.S. Ran into Andre today. :)
I walked into poli sci today for a test. (That walk in the rain and wind was downright miserable, btw.)
Will (guy friend who I recently Hetaliafied): I'm loving this series, but I gotta say, France scares the crap out of me. That scene with Corsica? WTH?
Me: Yeah, he has a tendency to do that.
So. I'm gonna be running through some of my more recent posts and LJ-cutting them so I don't break y'all's f-list pages. (Especially the essay ones. Yeesh.)
"To a non-American, a Yankee is an American. To an American, a Yankee is a Northerner. To a Northerner, a Yankee is a Northeasterner. To a Northeasterner, a Yankee is a New Englander. To a New Englander, a Yankee is a Vermonter. To a Vermonter, a Yankee is someone who has pie for breakfast."
XD
Carly: Haven't you already used a lot of German titles? ;D
Me: ...I haven't used any, to date.
Carly: Wait, what was that last one on you posted on your writing LJ?
Me: ..."Mo Ghile Mear"? That's Gaelic.
Carly: Gaelic! Riiiiiiiiight. XD
In other news, I'm fighting off a sinus infection and Blitz has taken to curling up on the couch every time Mom leaves the room. She is most definitely Not Amused.
I've also been researching Russian history (for a potential fanart, long story) and figured something out: no one's managed to successfully invade and conquer Russia. Ever. That's pretty dang awesome.
Fanfic to come in a few days. Assuming I don't die over this chem test tomorrow.
I was lounging in bed, trying to fall asleep with a massive headache, when my mind wandered off to the seaside. And I started thinking and musing about the fact that if you spend all day playing in the ocean, when you lie down at night your body remembers the smell of salt and the feel of the waves, and you rock yourself to sleep.
Or if you go to an amusement part and ride wicked sweet coasters for most of the day, your body continues to tilt and twist at night even though you're not really moving, and it takes you a day or so to get your center of gravity back.
Or if you walk around a Renaissance Festival for seven hours, you taste turkey and cider in your dreams and your hands remember being cold and swollen and your feet remember being cramped in their boots. (Maybe that one's just me.)
Or if someone knocks into you from behind, or drops a plate, or brakes abruptly on the road, you can suddenly smell gas and blood and rubber, and your chest hurts where your ribs were fractured from a life-saving seatbelt when the sports car hit your van at 110 mph.
Or if your dad calls you on the phone and asks you to sit down... even though it's about your mom and she's okay, just scared, and it wasn't really a stroke, you taste the dust of a softball field and smell dandelions and remember soft twilight and the sickening feeling of vertigo and nausea as your most precious possession was torn away.
Funny, isn't it, what the body remembers even though the mind has locked it away.
Me: I got my schedule~
Carly: I saw your LJ about your advisor, how?!
Me: I, uh... kinda went over his head. To the chair of the BIE department.
Carly: THIS IS WHY I FREAKING LOVE YOU
Me: Thank youuuu~ Yeah, she was super helpful. Took us about twenty minutes total.
The aforementioned chair has helped me before with other SNAFUs, including the scholarship one. She's getting added to the Christmas list.
Lessons we've learned:
1. I do not accept bullshit and will not take no for an answer.
2. Do not be afraid to take stuff up a level.
3. WSU needs to stop getting their panties in a pinch about students seeing advisors before scheduling. (I still have to se the guy, just not for scheduling purposes. Also, as it turned out, I couldn't have registered anyway, because he had to give me a "secondary PIN".)
4. Sometimes talking to students is more beneficial than talking to admins. I've found out which profs to take classes with and which ones to avoid at all costs.... all from students or alumni.
I really, really don't feel good. At all. The theater people on my floor have been waking me up between two and six times almost every night, meaning I haven't had a very solid night's sleep since last Saturday, when I was home. Last night was almost an exception; I think I woke up twice, but I slept a total of eleven hours and very nearly slept through my alarm. Because of this broken sleep, however, my dreams have been getting progressively weirder/more disturbing. Meaning even if I sleep, it's not very restful. Also, my throat hurts and I ache all over.
Wednesday, winter quarter registration opened up for Honors students. You have to talk to your advisor before you can register. Because of me being sick, me being busy, or him being busy, this hasn't happened yet. I called yesterday after getting out of Chem lab (Wednesdays suck). The office was closed. I emailed him today asking for an appointment today or tomorrow - just real fast to make sure I'm not going to screw myself. That email was sent at 10:00 am, just before I left for my recitation. He didn't respond until 2:30, and guess what? He's full up until Monday afternoon. Which means unless I break the rules and register anyway (tempting), I won't get to register until late Monday. When most classes will be full up.
Thanks, WSU. I didn't have to screw myself; you did it for me.
( Oh, it gets worse. )
Now I want to take up Temari.
No, not that Temari - and what the heck would I do with her anyway? Have her clean the dorms? (Actually, not a half-bad idea.)
I mean this Temari. Go look through the gallery there, or here, and be astounded at the fiddly loveliness. (The Golden Feathers one really caught my eye.) I've done cross-stitch and embroidery before, and I'm fairly sure with some training I could learn. Besides, embroidery floss comes in a kajillion shades and is much cheaper than yarn. And think of the potential! Gifts for birthdays, housewarming, personalized Christmas ornaments... I bet if you added some lavender or other scent to it when you started, it'd make a great little satchet. Janette, do you have any experience in this area?
Sigh. Guess what I'll be looking for next time I hit some craft stores and the library?
In other news, I feel like crap. I can't tell if I'm coming down with something or if it's the (&@#*&@# black mold in the shower. I did call maintenance today, after figuring out how to work the landline. The woman on the other end sounded bored, but when I mentioned "black mold" "feeling sick" and "allergic to mold" one right after the other, I IMMEDIATELY had her attention. They should be by here in a day or so; if they haven't come through by Monday I intend to call again and chew them out.
Finally picked up Rivendell after a week's break. It's looking more like what I'd imagined, but I've got a few more inches before I start the cable.
You can blame the Temari thing on knitandtonic. Incidentally, how do all these knitters come up with such cool blog handles? We've got Yarn Harlot, knitandtonic, Tsock Tsarina, Samurai Knitter, Crazy Aunt Purl... mine just makes me sound like a high-school fangirl. (Which I was at the time I came up with it, but that's beside the point.)
RenFest this weekend with Carly and crew. So excited.
I think I've said it before, but I'll say it again: I do not want to take up spinning.
Okay, a bit of honesty. I am sure beyond any doubt it would be tons of fun to take up spinning. Since I love the transformative nature of knitting (turning string into garments), I am positive I would love the transformative nature of spinning (fiber into string, when can then be turned into garments). Plus, even if I make stuff I would never use, there's bound to be someone out there willing to buy my handspun. (Julie's been making a pretty penny off her stuff, but then she hand-dyes a bunch of it too.)
All that being said, there are several reasons I think it would not be in my best interests to take up this... activity.
1) From everything else I've heard in the blogosphere, spinning is wicked addictive. I heard one blogger describe it as "falling down and having no desire whatsoever to get up". Considering how fast and hard I fell down with knitting, I'd prefer to avoid a similar situation.
2) Cuts into knitting time. Unless I learn to knit with my feet (don't tempt me), there's no way around this one.
3) Costs money. I realize a spindle is a one-time cost, but fiber costs money, and like anything else, the good stuff will be expensive. I think I should have a steady source of income before I take up another
4) A lot harder to do on the go, even with a drop spindle. (There is no way in hell I'm considering a spinning wheel. Have you seen how small the dorms are?)
With all those logical reasons firmly in my mind... why does the universe insist on exposing me to the world of spinning?!
( Seriously, guys, knock it off. )
- Mood: creative
Ohai there!
My name is Blitz, and I got a new big sister this weekend! I know you normally get younger siblings, but I guess this was different somehow.
She came home with Dad, and I didn't know who she was and why she was going after Mom, so I barked and barked at her. But Dad said *NO*, this is my sissy, and made me sit and smell her hand. She smelled kinda like Mom and Dad, so maybe she's okay.
Then when I went inside and into the empty room, she had put all this stuff in there! So I barked again, because that was where Mom slept sometimes, and it was *not* okay for her to be there. Then Dad came in and said *NO*, this was Jenni and she was my sissy and barking at her is *NOT OKAY*. So I lay down and let her pet me, and she said I was a good boy. After a little bit Dad left, so I went out to the kitchen with him. Sissy came out after a little bit, and Mom let her give me some *TREATS*, so I guess she's not so bad.
Later on Dad went to take me *OUT*, and he let Sissy come with. I wasn't so sure about that, but Dad let her hold the leash, so it was okay. She was very nice and kept telling me what a good boy I was, but she didn't let me chase the *RABBIT* I found on the walk. I don't know why, I'm sure I could have caught it, but Dad didn't let me chase the *CAT* last time either. I didn't stay mad at him, though; I just licked his ears at home when he was working on the shiny-screen.
The next day everyone was running around getting ready for church. I stayed home and was a very good boy, and I *DID NOT BARK when Sissy came back in the house. And then Mom came in and I was soooooooo happy to see her. But I didn't understand *why* she had to go up that hole in the ceiling, because I couldn't follow her. I could only figure out how to get up three steps, so instead I sat at the bottom and waited while she and Sissy brought down boxes and bags. Then she came down and I was soooooo happy because I could lick her and get petted again.
Sissy spent a *LOT* of time with me, throwing my sock and ball and letting me chase the bright-spot. I could never catch that one though. And she gives very good belly rubs and took me *OUT* and likes to scratch right behind my ears. (She says it's just cuz they're soft, but I know that's not it.) I went and smelled all her stuff, too, while she was eating, but it was all clothes. There was some funny-smelling string, but she wouldn't let me play with it. But that was okay.
Then Sissy had to go back to call-ledge, so I went and snuggled down on my blanket. She came down and petted me and told me to be a good boy, and that she would be back next week. I licked her to say yes, I will be good, if you keep giving me belly rubs.
And now I am very tired, so I will go to bed like a good dog.
(Jenni's notes)
1. Yes, my dad did have a "shotgun talk" with the fool dog. I believe his exact words were "this is Daddy's princess. You WILL be nice to her."
2. If you think watching a cat chase a laser pointer is funny, imagine how hilarious it is to see a German Shepherd/Husky mix do the same thing.
3. When Blitz chases stuff, he doesn't run, he bounds like an antelope. And then comes prancing back.
3. The goofball is enamored with my mom. I don't understand it, but he is all over her if she comes back after a more-than-five-minute disappearance. Wagwagwagwagwag and licklicklicklicklick... She calls him Blitzenheimer sometimes.
4. Speaking of licking, Blitz likes to lick and nibble on my dad's ear when he's on the floor working on his laptop.
4. Rivendell has made no progress thanks to a misunderstanding with the first of the three braids. I'd prefer not to talk about it.
5. The title is from a quote on Tsock Tsarina's blog - "All dogs are dorks; I just wish all dorks were dogs."
When you called my cell earlier (remind me to thank mum for that heart attack), I didn't recognize your number, so I almost didn't pick up. And when I did, your first words were "Hey, dragon-girl."
I recognized the voice, and the nickname meant it was someone I knew, but the lack of caller ID really threw me. I knew it wasn't Carly, and it didn't sound like anyone from church, so I was really stumped. But when you finally said, "This is Ashley," I about fell off the bed.
Way to make me cry, you stupid jerk. <3
I. I really don't even have words right now. I know for a fact you didn't see my former letter, so the fact that you called me means there is a God.
I hope you realize I'm not letting you go this time.
See you in two weeks, but I expect emails before then. :)
~Jenni
P.S. If you spook me like that again, I really will never forgive you. <3
- Mood: downright GIDDY
Month one
Mommy,
I am only 8 inches long
but I have all my organs.
I love the sound of your voice.
Every time I hear it
I wave my arms and legs.
The sound of your heartbeat
is my favorite lullaby.
Month Two
Mommy,
today I learned how to suck my thumb.
If you could see me,
you could definitely tell that I am a baby.
I'm not big enough to survive outside my home though.
It is so nice and warm in here.
Month Three
You know what, Mommy?
I'm a boy!!
I hope that makes you happy.
I always want you to be happy.
I don't like it when you cry.
You sound so sad.
It makes me sad too
and I cry with you even though
you can't hear me.
Month Four
Mommy,
my hair is starting to grow.
It is very short and fine,
but I will have a lot of it.
I spend a lot of my time exercising.
I can turn my head and curl my fingers and toes
and stretch my arms and legs.
I am becoming quite good at it too.
Month Five
You went to the doctor today.
Mommy, he lied to you.
He said that I'm not a baby.
I am a baby, Mommy, your baby.
I think and feel.
Mommy, what's abortion?
Month Six
I can hear that doctor again.
I don't like him.
He seems cold and heartless.
Something is intruding my home.
The doctor called it a needle.
Mommy what is it? It burns!
Please make him stop!
I can't get away from it!
Mommy! HELP me!
Month Seven
Mommy,
I am okay.
I am in God's arms.
He is holding me safe.
He told me about abortion.
Why didn't you want me, Mommy?
Every Abortion Is Just . . .
One more heart that was stopped.
Two more eyes that will never see.
Two more hands that will never touch.
Two more legs that will never run.
One more mouth that will never speak.
If you're against abortion, or if you cried after reading this, re-post it.
**********
Note: When my mother found out the child she was carrying had Down's syndrome and several other health issues, the doctor at the AF hospital actually urged her to get an abortion. She was so furious she left the hospital and never went back. Brian was born a month premature at a different hospital and required a year and a half of intensive care and surgeries. Today he is a happy, teasing twelve-year-old and the love of my life.
An unborn child is not a lump of tissue or a blob of flesh; it is a human being. I will never, ever be able to believe that someone does not deserve to live just because they are not perfect. My views, my beliefs, my values do not define a person's humanity; to think otherwise is a horrible case of hubris.
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- Jen or Stardragon or "that girl who draws dragons"
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