sevlow

Since I posted it on dA, I figured I'd post it here too.

Stolen from mayracs and hikaru_9, because I've never done it before and it seems fun.

IT IS THAT TIME AGAIN! Yes that's right, time for Christmas cards! If you want one you must either:

* Leave me a note here with your address.
* E-mail me your address at pixil3333(at)aol(dot)com.
* You can also try to catch me on AIM under the screen name YouSmellUsed.

Frequent Questions:

1. I don't celebrate Christmas... Can I still get holiday mail? YES! If you don't celebrate Christmas and still want a card ("Winter", "Hanukkah", "Happy Holidays" but not "Christmas", etc), please let me know. Personally, I prefer "Pagan Holiday" :aww:

2. I live over seas; can I still have a card? Yep.

3. I wanna send you a card too! Can I have your address? Sure! Just fling me a note or email asking.

4. I want a card, but I probably won't send you one in return. Can I still have one? Yep, you sure can. It would be nice to get one back, but it is in no way required :heart:

If you have any other questions, just ask.

As for what these cards will actually be... I have no idea. A nice little sketch at the VERY least. Color too, if I have the time/energy.

If anyone is at all interested, please let me know by the end of this month, preferably by Thanksgiving so that I can get crackin'.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

My iChat/AIM is being bizarre.

When I first launched it today, it tried to tell me that I didn't have any contacts on my buddylist. So I restarted it. When it re-launched all my buddies were there, but it said that none of them were online... which I know isn't true, since there's always SOMEONE online and my bro was one of those someones.

Thinking this odd, I switched to my other screen name... and THAT was working just fine!

So now I'm like WTF? What do you have against that particular screen name, AIM? Assface.

...

In other news: I was proctoring the PSAT all morning. That was both interesting and mind-numbingly boring. I had two of my Sophomores in there, one of whom tried--without success--to butter me up the entire damn time. I mean, what does he expect, that I'm going to give him a fabulous score on the PSAT because he's being so buddy-buddy with me? I don't even grade the damn PSAT! They are graded, by strangers, in a far away location! FAR FAR AWAY! Go be annoyingly friendly to them, not me.


I also have like 60 Senior papers to grade. Some of them are actually pretty interesting. Others... are just whiny. The essays are all really personal, though, and I really feel like it's helping me get closer to my students. *happy sigh*

...

In other, other news: My last day being employed by Hot Topic Inc. is officially this coming Saturday which, coincidentally enough, is our Halloween event at Torrid. SO! I get to be all dressed up on my last day at work. Sweeeet. I'm going to be a diseased harlot with a bad Cockney accent and a blacked-out tooth. Who walks with a limp. And has lice. And has "just a touch of th' syphilis, love."

I'm going for "kinda sexy, but so... SO gross... oh... o-oh, god... ugh..."

My managers are going to kill me XD

Few things can get to me the way art and literature do. This makes reading aloud to a class of Sophomores from a novel... a novel that is both heart-stoppingly beautiful and deeply sad... a little difficult for me.

Especially when the big, tough football player in the front row starts crying. And so does the girl next to him. And another girl in the back.

That's something they don't cover in the Pedagogy Seminars: How to Not Cry When Your Students Are Touched By Literature to the Point of Tears and You Are So Overjoyed That They Feel It So Deeply That You Really Want to Cry With Them, But Know That You Shouldn't.

Oy. I didn't cry, but it was close e-damn-nough.

...

Also, I am vaguely horrified by the translation of The Canterbury Tales text that my Seniors have to read. I didn't read it in high school, and so my first exposure to it was in the original Middle English... AND THAT IS THE ONLY MANNER IN WHICH IT SHOULD BE READ. The Modern English translation is just so... wrong. No bueno. Completely unnatural. Do not like.

...Though I can understand why they wouldn't want to teach the original text. Even for advanced students, it would be difficult (or impossible) to grasp in the short time frame they would have to read it.

BUT STILL! MY EYES, THEY BURN!

I was listening to NPR the other day and they did a story about this Ukrainian chick doing sand art stories and how amazing it was.

Didn't get around to looking it up until now. And holy shit.

If you haven't seen this already, it's worth the eight minutes. I nearly cried, it's so beautiful.

The story she tells describes the WWII German invasion of the Ukraine and... just watch it. Good god. The things this woman can do with sand.

I hate writing lesson plans in the EDSC format. Good gravy. Why can't they just let us write them in the structure of our content area? I mean, seriously. The English format makes SO much more sense.

Student teaching is still awesome. The other day, one of my Seniors told me that if I came to his wresting match to cheer him on, he'd throw in a move just for me. He said it with the gravity of a marriage proposal. It was both adorable and creepy.

....

I'm quitting my job. Whether or not I will have another one afterward remains to be seen, but I can't--I cannot--keep up with this pace anymore without sacrificing something from my education or my students' education and I am NOT willing to do either of those things. I'll just take out more loans if I have to.

On a very related note, I'll likely be opening art commissions again. Which I hate doing, but every little bit helps.

I'm also cracking down on getting Daisy De Kaye and The Creepiest Zombie Contest edited and sent of to publishers. I'm communicating with my old prof. to get this done and--hopefully--have it as a source of income in the near future.

....

Also:

Marlan. You are fantastic. Never, ever doubt this fact. You are, truth be told, the most fantasticist life form that ever existed, ever. Like whoa. My head, it a'splodes to think of how cool you are. I think it's the glasses.

We should get pie to celebrate the return of the day that you transitioned from Fetus to Baby. It will be joyous and good.

Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

....

In other news, my Student-Teaching is going well. I adore all of my students, even when I want to kick them in the face (like when they lose their bonus point on a quiz because they don't know who the Vice President of their country is -_- And this is a wealthy, academically FANTASTIC school! ).


Nothing else to report other than me being excited about having sushi and scarlet_sparrow tonight. Hellz to the yeah.

I do not like that most of my school/work days now mean that I leave the house at 6:30am and get home around 10:30pm, with perhaps two hours of down-time scattered around in between.

No, sir. I do not like it at all.









I'm so happy that I have tomorrow off, I could cry.








My bed. It calls.

Why do such horrible things make me giggle so?



Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net



Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net

I lol'd at the most recent DAR comic and had to share. I just love the expressions in the last three panels.

Erika is still my hero <3

...

I still have almost two hours until my next class. Blech. Next Tuesday I'll remember to bring my sketch book, which I've usually had on me over the years when I've had long breaks between classes, but have somehow failed to bring today, even though I knew I had a break from 12-ish to 4. Grumble.

Still, it's really good to be back on campus. I always miss it during summer/winter breaks.

My "classes" are a little weird this semester, but I knew they would be. Most of the "classes" aren't really "classes," but seminars and externships. I only have one "class" that's really a class (well... more like 1 and 1/2), which is where I'm headed at 4. I kinda dislike the prof, but I'm trying to be optimistic.

...

There's no point to this journal. Just killing time.

La la la la daaaa.

Doot doo la la doooo!

Hurr durr!

Derpa derp!

LAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Okay, I'm done.

(derp.)

Stolen from mayracs



I lol'd.

...

ALSO! I start school tomorrow! YAY! XD

...

ALSO! I start school tomorrow! BOO! DX

I had the weirdest NyQuil-inspired dream last night.

It involved a film that John Malkovich was making. Everything he jotted down from his director's box overlooking the set--the whole world, that is--just automatically happened. The "actors" were all just normal people who thought that their actions were really their own, having no idea that they were being manipulated by Mr. Malkovich.

I was one of the few who knew what was going on, and spent a great deal of time trying to get ol' Johnny-boy to write some crazy shit into the screenplay because I thought his movie was boring and needed a little flair. He eventually got fed up with my bugging him and let me take over scribbling down the story, though he wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea.

I began this new chapter of the film with a "It was a dark and stormy night..." cuz I thought it would be hilarious. No one else thought so.

Somehow I ended up wandering around on the set later with Mr. Malkovich, half-forgetting that none of it was really real. We wound up in a parking lot of a Quiznos, but the name of the chain had been changed to "Dr. Doogie's" because, you see, Neil Patrick Harris had bought the franchise to soothe his deep urge to meet the public's sandwich needs.

Then, NPH himself ran out to greet us, flailing. "Margaret! It's been so long!" he cried, embracing me hard against his chest and nearly smothering me. I didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't Margaret. "Let me make you a sandwich, my friends!"

...And then Neil happily/manically dragged me and Malkovich away and that's the last thing I remember.

Yeah.

Hamlet 2 is officially the best movie ever.

I can't get Rock Me, Sexy Jesus out of my head.

That is all.

I just had my first solid food since Monday... and it was Heaven.

Golden mashed potatoes... French-cut green beans... and an absolutely gorgeous, buttery salmon. It was orgasmic.

My jaw aches like hell now because of the chewing (though it was more like mashing everything to the roof of my mouth with my tongue, cuz that ended up being more comfortable), but... oh... so worth it. Mmm.

My tooth-holes don't hurt too much today. They mostly just itch. My jaw is still being an asshole, but it's way better than it was yesterday. Today was the first day I could open up wide enough to get a toothbrush in there and man is it nice to feel clean. I feel like a whole new woman.

Surgery went relatively well. I feel like crap and the vicodin feels like it's doing next to nothing, but the ice-packs I've been keeping on my face off-and-on all day are like a dream. I took some mild sleep-aids with my most recent dose of vicodin about 40 mins ago, so I'm hoping I can eventually get some sleep today. I had planned on knocking out the minute I got home, but no such luck. Instead I spent the day watching M*A*S*H, which is awesome, but it's really frustrating to be groggy, in pain, and unable to sleep.

Also, my jaw locked shut from the strain the surgeons put on it, which I was afraid would happen, but I'm not at all surprised. It's happened three times before because of various reasons that didn't get along with my wacky TMJ issues, but the longest it was ever jammed was only like 2 weeks, so I'm not too worried.

And they wouldn't let me keep my teeth :( I had been all excited about making a necklace, too.

...

On an entirely unrelated note, I've noticed that my dad and older brother (who have not really been on speaking terms for years) are sending each other messages on facebook.

It's a step in the right direction and I'm so happy.

I have to get my wisdom teeth removed. As of today's lengthy consultation with an oral surgeon, the extraction is planned for next Tuesday.

The problem is, my wisdom teeth don't appear to like the thought of eviction very much. Three out of the four I have to get yanked out of my skull are having complications, one of which is going to require at least one additional surgery. Because, you see, if they yank it out in the usual way there is a certainty of nerve damage that would leave me with a potentially permanent case of novacaine-lip--that is to say, I'd have chronic numbness and drooling from one side of my face--so it has to be done in two separate surgeries (or more).

Yeah.

Also, the roots of another tooth might be up in my sinus cavity, meaning that--when removed--the resulting hole would allow me to suck air up into my nose through a tiny void my upper jaw, which is actually kinda awesome. They won't let me keep this discreet third nostril, though. They'd have to sew it up. :(

But still!

JAW-NOSTRIL!

Also, I'm not entirely sure if I have a ride home afterward or not. I might call Lauren or Marlan if I absolutely have no other option. Your reward is to see a very drugged-out Mindy, and possibly pie after I'm able to eat solids again. I asked the surgeon if I could get by with just a local anesthetic and some laughing gas so that I wouldn't need a babysitter, but considering all the things that are wrong with these errant teeth she kinda laughed in my face.

"Noo... Oh-ho-ho, nooo, Sweetie. You are gonna be out. And I mean out."

The horrified/amused tone of her voice was both unsettling and endearing. I like her.

...

JAW-NOSTRIL!!! :D

I had fun gallivanting with dis_c0nnected last night. Then again, I always do.

He needed to be in Hollywood at the ungodly hour of 1am-ish for a caravan to Comicon today and so, since I knew I'd be awake anyway, I gleefully offered my chauffering services.

After some mild begging and pleading, I convinced him that we needed to go drop in on my brother's gig, since his bar/stage is pretty close to Hollywood anyway... and I hadn't seen him since he got back from Europe where he was touring with Al Mckay of Earth, Wind and Fire fame (Here they are in Rome! Justin's the short-haired trombone player on the left: Funky shit, man).

/shameless plugging

Anyhoo, Marlan and I went to Justin's bar and saw his band The Makers for a couple hours before heading off to Hollywood.

All in all, a nice evening.

...

In other news, I start grad school in a month! Woo!

This is so epic that I had to track down a TEEN GIRL SQUAD lj icon just to post.

So I get home from work a while ago. The house is dark and quiet; mom is asleep and xeriko is upstairs in his room. I go about my business, taking off my shoes and my jewelery as I re-heat the tacos from dinner.

Munching happily on my tacos, I turn to leave the kitchen and see that there is light shining from under the door to the garage.

Hm. Someone must have left it on.

I open the door and peer into the garage. Everything seems to be fine. The electric garage door is snugly closed and all is quiet...

EXCEPT THERE'S A HUGE FREAKIN' POSSUM ON THE BACK OF THE COUCH.

He looked at me blankly, then turned and scurried into a niche on the shelf beside a speaker, his furry butt hanging out ineloquently.

My first impulse, of course, is to giggle like an idiot and go "AWWWWW!" then run upstairs to tell Michael of our guest.

We've named him Mr. George the Possum.

And he doesn't want to leave.

I've poked him, prodded him, pulled his cute widdle tail, banged around with a baseball bat, and hollered. But no, he just sits there with his butt hanging out, occasionally looking back at me with his big, black eyes as if he thinks I'm very, very stupid.

So I've just left the outer garage door open a crack and put down a bowl of cat food to lure him out. Hopefully he comes out before I go to bed, otherwise I know mom's going to get up at 4am and go out in the garage to smoke her morning cigarette only to be rudely encountered by Mr. George. I don't see that ending well.

I left a BEWARE OF POSSUM note on the door for her though, so hopefully she takes heed.

I am so ridiculously entertained.

I just read FMA chapter 96, and all I have to say is, "OMG, ARMSTRONG/SIG BROMANCE FTW!" They are inexcusably adorable.

Also, Lauren and I are currently hanging out on the floor, as the couch has mysteriously disappeared while I was at work. I hate moving. :(

Speaking of moving, anyone want a slightly used bed? It's free as long as you get your ass over here and pick it up.

I just finished watching one fantastic horror flick. [REC] is one of the best I've seen in a while, I think.

Parts of it startled the bejeezus out of me, which means that I give it two thumbs WAY up. It's a Spanish film, but we did a remake of it here called Quarantine... I kinda wanna see it, just to compare the two.

I tend to really like Spanish and Mexican films, I've discovered. My freshman-year roommate introduced me to a bunch--my favorite still being Amores Perros (AKA, Love's a Bitch) and El crimen del Padre Amaro (AKA, The Crime of Father Amaro)... and not just because Gael García Bernal is unspeakably hot--and I haven't yet seen one that I don't like.

French films are usually pretty decent as well.

Japanese films... are kinda hit-and-miss for me. There are some fantastic ones out there, but there's also a lot (A LOT) of crap. I'll always hold a soft spot for Akira Kurosawa's stuff (like Throne of Blood/蜘蛛巣城/Kumonosu-jō. Japanese Macbeth, FTW!), but even that bothers me at times because of his weird pacing. I still haven't seen 7 Samurai (七人の侍, Shichinin no samurai), which I hear is his best work... maybe that shall be rectified soon. Marlan?

I want to branch out into more areas of foreign film this summer. I rarely, if ever, watch German films, or the more Eastern European stuff. I've seen the Czech film Neco z Alenky (or Alice), which was weird and a half... and I have New Zealand's Black Sheep on my list of things to rent. That's still foreign, even if it is in English, I suppose. Hm.

...There is no point to this journal.


UPDATE:Just finished watching Quarantine and... meh. It followed pretty closely to [REC] storyline-wise, but it added a few things that were really better left out. All of the sexual tension with the firefighters at the beginning really wasn't needed... but you can't have an American horror film without sex, can you? *rolls eyes*

I'm also kinda bummed that they used such a good "movie" camera to film it. Part of the awesomeness of [REC] is that it really looked like a local TV crew out on the job, and the low quality made it seem like all the things that were going on were real. You could let yourself forget that they were actors.

Final verdict: Quarantine wasn't horrible--better than I'd expected-- but it's still not as good. STOP RUINING PERFECTLY GOOD MOVIES, AMERICA! JUST LEARN TO READ THE DAMN SUBTITLES! IT'S NOT THAT HARD!