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[06 Jun 2008|05:46pm] |
i think it's only fair y'all know that i'm mostly posting at http://www.deleahrium.blogspot.com now...in case you were missing me...
now gimme attention!
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[05 May 2008|02:59am] |
I think it's worth noting that the Wikipedia entry for Journalism does not cite any references or sources...
How apropros.
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[06 Jun 2007|07:37pm] |
I need a mindless distraction.
( BO-O-ORING )
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| when you live, live with your soul, not with your time |
[04 May 2007|01:10pm] |
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music |
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Damone - "When You Live" |
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I finally got power to my laptop again, and let me tell you that not having a computer just as finals start is not easy. But nothing's been very easy lately.
I haven't been able to figure out how to update everyone on life. It's so all over the place.
The fish is named Machete. I tried calling him John Storey and it just wasn't working. You can call him John Storey if you want.
Sean Hanna was the kind of guy that was so full of life that you thought he'd never run out...but he did. My friend died, and it's made everything feel strange. I'm kicking myself for never visiting him in the hospital. We always thought he'd be back to the station soon. I still expect him to show up one day.
Jenny and I went to his wake Wednesday. We waited in line for an hour and a half to get into the funeral home. I couldn't believe how many people were there to see him, but on the other hand, I totally could. You could know Sean for five minutes and already feel like he was one of your best friends. ( I'll prove it through pictures. )
So I've been clingy and panicky and I'm uncomfortable driving. The same morning as the day I found out he'd died, my favorite of my little brother's friends, Ethan, crashed his car into a telephone pole. He seems to be alright, but that's a scare. I was tense and unhappy all day. I couldn't stop for too long or else I'd think too much and get upset. This whole week has been hard, and with finals the stress is ridiculous.
I have a final on Monday, and then about a week off. I'll be busy next Saturday between the station's Alumni Day and an engagement party for Joe's friend Danielle. Mother's Day I'm driving with my mom, aunt, and G-Ma to Boston so they can bring some things to Skinner's Auction. It seemed like a good trip, and a nice thing to do for Mother's Day. Then Tuesday things will be changing.
May 15th I start a full-time internship with DiversityInc Magazine. $10 an hour, 40 hours a week in Newark. I'll be taking the train in at like 7:30 every morning, then I assume I'll be out around 4:30pm. I'm bummed mostly because of the definite decrease in Joe-time, but I'm also super excited. I was wary about doing print, since I'm really a broadcast girl, but I'll have the opportunity to do video and web work and editing, so it seems okay. Also, the people there are great.
I went in for my interview, and got lost in Newark-Penn Station. ( Of course. )
( I went looking for a pen to write down the number to call. )
My dad got a new job, too. He'll be commuting to NYC, but he's excited about the job itself. All in all, I suppose the world moves forward. It's hard to not get caught up in all the emotions and immediacy of everything. I'm in NY right now, cat-sitting for Kip & Richard again. But I'm alone. Jenny had work and Joe won't be here until at least 7pm. I suppose I'll play Pokemon until then.
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| I'll call you Jaguar if I may be so bold |
[16 Apr 2007|06:14pm] |
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mood |
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 grieving |
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music |
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T Rex - "Jeepster" |
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Rasputin Maus has passed away. That tumor thing under his leg just bled out too much, and he died. I got back to my room from taking a shower and he was already gone. Still warm, but definitely not moving. (It was creepy.)
I dumped evrything out of the cage into the trash, but then I felt guilty. So I put him in a ziplock baggie within a ziplock baggie within a ziplock baggie within a paper bag and he's in my freezer (don't tell my roommates) awaiting a proper burial.
[Edit: Okay, so I couldn't stand the idea of him still being in my freezer, and I decided there was no use in waiting for anyone else. I have no shovel, so I put a plastic bag around my hand and dug dug dug into the mud mud mud and buried him on the side yard. I cut my finger on a stick. I hope I dug dug dug deep enough 'nough 'nough cause it would suck suck suck if one of the stray cats dug him up and ate him. Well, as long as I didn't know it happened, I guess that would be okay.]
( adorable pictures of a tiny hamster named Rasputin Maus )
I have no mo' pets left. I think that's why I had a dream this morning that Honey was alive again. I miss my kitty. mreowr.
So I tried to make myself feel better by replacing Rasputin with an equally agressive aquatic animal. But I can't decide what to name him. Wanna help?
Let's play... NAME THAT FISH!
( heeeere fishy fishy fishy )
I'm considering the following names, but suggestions are welcome.
Don Imus
Antonio Banderas
Bojangles
Dr. William Block
El Wray
Stuntman Mike
Machete
John Storey
Please vote via comments.
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| doin it and doin it and doin it well |
[28 Mar 2007|11:59pm] |
a la ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) flamingbabyhead
Comment and I will:
1 - Tell you why I friended you.
2 - Associate you with a song/film.
3 - Tell a random fact about you.
4 - Tell a first memory about you.
5 - Associate you with a character/pairing.
6 - Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
7 - Tell you my favorite user pic of yours [if it pertains].
8 - In retort, you must spread this disease in your journal.
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| and now you're mine |
[21 Feb 2007|12:16am] |
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music |
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Creedence Clearwater Revival - "I Put A Spell On You" |
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You know when you're little and you get a good grade and your mom puts the paper on the fridge for dad to see when he gets home?
Matt's test with a big red 91 on it is hanging on our fridge. Apparantly, it's just as satisfying when you've reached your senior year of college.
I'm supposed to be reading right now, like hardcore buckle-down don't-look-up-for-a-moment reading. I have over 200 pages to catch up on for a midterm at 1pm tomorrow. Fuckity fuck fuck.
My test will not be making it to the refrigerator.
"The midterm and final will include IDs and essay questions. IDs will ask you to briefly identify the historical term, person, or event. Essay questions may require you to address a specific historical question, compare historical time periods, events, or persons. A good essay should be well written, clearly organized, address directly the question posed, and incorporate historical documents and facts in support of your answer."
I'm expected to write 7-9 paragraphs tomorrow on a subject I'm sorely behind on. I getthe concepts, I see how everything connects, I just worry about describing historical time periods and paraphrasing excerpts about how "sorcery, pagan religion, folklore...[and] Christian heresy" set the stage for the European witch-craze or the Malleus Maleficarum's explanation of why women are more likely to be witches...those are the essays I'm hoping for. It's one of those "here's four possibilities, I'll give you two options and you choose one to answer" essay things. This class should be so cool but I'm fucking it up by not reading.
yargh.
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| victory should be naked |
[03 Jan 2007|01:01am] |
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Joe gave me the "First Series" set of Doctor Who for XMas and my dad has already watched the entire first disk.
The bad is coming back. There's honestly nothing going wrong right now (well, except that I can't seem to get back on track with Weight Watchers after the holidays and I really don't exercise minus standing around at work all day. I mean I guess you could count the lunges I take checking for feet under fitting room doors.) but I can't escape it.
Joe and I saw Clutch play at Starland Ballroom on Saturday and it was fantastic...minus an early evening breakdown, which was finally solved with Jack Daniels and William Elliot Whitmore.
He put on one of those performances that I hope I can remember for the rest of my life, sitting in the middle of the stage surrounded by the amps of the handful of shitty metal bands that preceded him, sheepishly joking that he was out of place. But he wasn't. He was the only thing on that stage, with his hat tilted to the left and fore-arm tattoos peeking out of his blue button-up (with the top button undone, of course), stomping the beat out on the stage and waving his banjo like it was a shotgun. He was charming, even to the drunks and idiots up front that demanded he play every folky-country song they could think of. "I can't do that. Why? Well I can't duel without abother banjo so I can't play 'Dueling Banjos'." "No, I won't play 'Walk the Line'. Yeah it's an amazing song, that's why I can't play it - I'd ruin it." I think he got the biggest kick out of the 'Freebird' request, because that one he just laughed at, drank his Corona, and started strumming again. He was adorable. I love him.
Clutch was much less talkative. They just played. It was a two-hour set and we still left wanting a few more songs. Joe and I were both pretty surprised they skipped right over '10001110101' (I've tried translating it but it's not divisible by 8. I don't think it's binary speak for anything. Total. Bummer.) and 'Burning Beard', and I seriously wanted to see them do 'Careful With That Mic' cause I think he sounds so damned different in it. Either way, he's never what I expect to see - the frontman, I mean. He's small, disproportionate. He bounces around and stomps his feet and does a lot of stream-of-consciousness pointing and dancing. Joe and I had nudged our way to stage right by the time Clutch came on, and Neil was kind enough to play to our side quite a bit, facing straight at us in a spot that was almost certainly behind an amp to the rest of the audience. Maybe he saw me and thought I was worth playing to. Maybe he also read my mind and that's why the encore ended with the very 'Who's Been Talkin' that I'd been hoping they'd perform. Maybe that show was fucking fantastic.
I got in a little trouble on New Year's Eve for my Chris Antonopo-lust. 
Joe was browsing some drummer's magazine and was already getting a little heated over seeing a guy he knew featured when he flipped the page and I gushed for the guy I'd seen drum for Vanilla Ice three years ago. Joe wasn't as amused as I was to see him in a magazine, and bared what may be called envy but he was more frustrated and defeated than envious. He, of course, would't tell me this exactly, and instead huffed off to get coffee and I sat feeling confused and curiously insulted at his outburst. To make an increasingly boring story short, it all worked out in the end and we gallavanted off to visit friends and family for New Year's Eve / our anniversary?
I question this last part because I'm not sure where the part came in where we did much more than acknowledge that we'd met last New Year's Eve. At first I didn't care much - we certainly saved money by eating the snacky food his sister extended to us in the midst of his small-but-noisy twin niece and nephew, and it was cute to be drunk and affectionate and recognized for being such at Justin & Jess' place (a drunken Jason demanded we call it our two-year anniversary because "we're destined for that anyway"), but as the night played out and I woke up in the morning (after an arduous journey of sobering, coaxing an obnoxiously playfully drunk Joe out of a basement apartment in the rain, and trying to drive his car back to Sayreville with one headlight and one high beam before falling asleep, and then setting us up in bed with water and pillows), I realized that yeah, it did matter to me that we do something special. A year is a big fucking deal and I'm excited about it. I'm fucking scared of it but mostly it's excitement. So I set him straight, he said "ok" and went back to sleep and I left for work. Stupid work.
The plus side of working New Year's Day is getting paid time and a half for a measly 4-hour shift. I was expecting longer, since I went in at 3pm, but apparantly the mall was closing at 6pm. Sweet. Kelly and I stole a gel boob for her bra and collected the girls (Meggie, Lyz, Sam), some beer and some cheese, made fondue, and watched John Tucker Must Die. There were some pretty cringe-worthy moments, because being more aware of sexual/racial/gender/class/etc stereotypes and misconceptions seems to mean that I can't enjoy any pop culture ever. I hated Happy Feet because of the uncomfortably sexual content (I prefer if animators choose one or the other - computer-"realism" or cartoony charicatures, but not BOTH. Female penguins don't have cleavage!) ethnic stereotyping and insinuations of racial dominance in penguins. To move on directly from there, Kelly and I both had to restrain ourselves from exclaiming "PENGUINS!" when a flock of flamingos ran across the screen and we immediately realized how stupid we were. Customers think we're twins. It never ends. Kelly thinks we should just start telling them "yes, we are" to change up the "no we've been best friends since third grade and people have always thought that we're sisters but we're not" response. Meagan spooned me and Sam ate lots of pretzels and Lyz left early like a chump. Every time someone asked someone else how their New Year's Eve was the response was "meh" with the exception of Sam who, surprisingly had a million and one stories about being drunk. That's my night in a nutshell.
I'm tired of typing now. I have work at Victoria's Secret at 4pm tomorrow and the Semi-Annual Sale is going to be hell. G'night.
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