Now I must manically go burn a playlist to listen to on the way down there, for my NaNo novel. Because there are not yet laws against brainstorming while driving.
Yet.
- Music:"Crist and St. Marie" - Anuna
11-26 Generation Kill: Get Some
27-34 Brideshead Revisited; The Lookout
35-50 Leap Year
51-61 Matthew Goode (includes Ben Whishaw)
Teasers:
(AMMUNITION) @
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causticammoOur theme on Merry Sisters of Fate this week is our horribly bad high school writing years, complete with examples. Today was my day to post some examples of my early writing, the more hilariously bad, the better.
I have to say that I had a plethora of bad writing to choose from, as I wrote (but didn't always finish) 34 novels before I was published, and started writing when I was but a tiny maggot.
There were many forms of badness to choose from, from the very subtle to the roaringly hilarious, but finally I put my writing faults into a few major categories. And if you want to read them and find out just how bad I was (I was very bad, trust me), you'll have to go here.
#1
I arrived home last night to find Catya, Nic, and Marley sitting around the kitchen table. "Hey," they said, barely looking up. All of them were peeling potatoes. A lot of potatoes. AN ENTIRE 10-LB BAG OF POTATOES. Between the four of us, we turned this bag of potatoes into a 3-course meal: mashed potatoes, hashbrowns (with onions and green peppers), and baked potatoes. Apparently it was prompted by a friend's horror story about having a funny smell, opening a bag of potatoes, and finding exploded green mushiness (or something) everywhere, and since we're all psychotic and paranoid, we decided that even though we only bought it in September, the whole bag of potatoes had to be eaten -OR ELSE. (It was so epic <3 I love my roommates and our crazy ideas.)
#2
For her sociology class Val has to observe someone like she's never seen them before, so she's going to watch me do dishes sometime (I'm so nervous, lol). We were going to do it this afternoon, but got sidetracked and made peanut butter cookies instead. It reminded us of the time we made chocolate muffins, and found a system of scooping that had her with a spoon, me with a fork. It ended in cutlery sex, needless to say. With muffin-mix lube.
---------
I had another school outreach presentation today - this time it was Food for Thought (about world food systems, food aid to developing countries, subsistence farming, reasons behind hunger, etc) to a class of Grade 9s, and I had a volunteer (who was AWESOME, omg I love him. He was - thankfully - in civil engineering [he wants to be a structural engineer and build sustainable and enviro-friendly buildings, yeaaa] so he covered those questions, and was really comfortable with the class and into it. On the way back we just talked about how much monkeys are like humans, and Thailand, and his older brother who's in Music Comp).
The presentation went well - it was kind of awkward because I had to stand mostly in front of the screen in order to access my laptop, and I'm not as comfortable with F4T as I am with Water for the World yet, but I think it went well. It was a bright group - they needed some coaxing, and had a low knowledge base on the stuff (but I always forget that most people don't) but were really engaged and struck by the information. At the end, when I was talking about ways they could help, clubs, etc., I asked if they'd ever heard any of this before, and got a No. I asked if they thought their friends had, or if their siblings or parents knew this stuff, and got another No, and a couple of the kids - you can pick them out, the "cool" ones who are way more intelligent than they like to appear to their classmates - seemed very "Wow, that's kind of crazy, I had no idea..." about it. Which is really interesting, because I have two more presentations with this same class, so I'll be able to build on that, give them even more information, and it'll be neat to see if that builds into a "I had no idea, that's not fair, let's fix this" thing.
I love doing this :)
----------
So everyone on my flist seems to ADORE this (as do I... SO WEIRD... AND YET SO AMAZING), and I found it a few days ago
- Location:potatoes
- Mood:
complacent - Music:Bad Romance - Lady GaGa
They were game.
So, now you can order a signed copy of SHIVER at a normal price with pretty decent shipping (and it's free shipping if you buy over $40 of books there). In time for Christmas, even! Not quite the same as looking into my beady little eyes as I sign your book right in front of you, but . . . it's still signed! By me, even, instead of by the monkey that I am trying to train up to do my signature (he still gets stuck on the S. I do it all loopy.)
2. I am at about 13,000 words on my NaNo novel and I'm doing what they tell you not to. I am going back to the beginning and rereading and ordering and making it relatively coherent. I know this is a NaNo No-No (just say that out loud. Please.) but it's how I write all my novels. I need to be constantly checking pacing and mood, and I can't get that without rereading. Plus, it's hard for me to work in a vacuum, and normally at this point in my novel, I'd be handing it off to my crit partners to glance over and see if I'm on a good path. Which is exactly what I'm doing now. I'm only giving myself a day to tidy and then I'm sending it on to Tessa. I'm not worried about this slowing me down (Again with the hubris). Because I know that I can clock ten thousand words in a day if I'm on a roll or staring a deadline in its red eye. NaNo may be setting the timeline, here, but I'm setting the rules, baby. NaNo is my #itch.
3. I am trying to stop reading the Italian edition of SHIVER. Not that I can really read Italian. I took some years of Latin in college, which means it's vaguely familiar and understandable in a pig-latin sort of way. Mostly, I like reading it out loud and thinking it all sounds very, very sexy. Liek Sam would get laid more if he'd said it this way first. Like (accents totally removed because I'm lazy):
mi schianto nel vuoto tremulo
cercando la tua mano
perso in sterili rimpianti
questo fragile amore e
un modo
per dirti
addio.
Yes, Sam. Yes, indeed. I agree. Whatever you're saying.
I had been deprived of nice occasions for a while and it came right after a huge steak birthday dinner for J. He was quite pleased with his dinosaur cake it seems.
We woke up at 5:20AM, he felt a little sick the night before so I asked him:
"Are you sure you want to go?"
"...Yes."
So I ripped the blankets off of him and we were on the earliest D train out of Bensonhurst. On the way, I picked up sour cream and onion chips, oatmeal raisin cookies and a croissant for our four hour bus ride there and ran to the station. We barely made it to the intersection as we saw the line for the next bus already running down the street. We even waited on that line for a while until we finally realized that our bus was already loaded and ready to go. Luckily we found seats across the aisle from each other.
There was wifi so we weren't too terribly off. He slept, I think I slept, but mostly I liked watching the signs go by as we drove in our huge double decker Megabus that cost $5 for both of us...roundtrip. We were able to get seats together in the stop at Baltimore and watched the new Office. When we finally made it to D.C.
It was gorgeous. Warm, sunny, beautiful.
We walked to the old post office (The Pavillion) and was able to see Obama's car drive up Pennsylvania Avenue to Capitol Hill (no joke...we have pictures). After hours of walking and picture taking, me being cranky and him being annoying, we agreed to go back early. We took a 6:30PM bus out of D.C. (and saw a starbucks with chinese lettering for the auning which amused me so much).
We got the front seats on the top level and was able to see everything. The windows were huge (and i buckled my seat belt just incase...you know...accidents).
The best part of our trip was coming back to New York, walking the three blocks to Spice and ordering a siamese beef fried rice to share with a thai iced tea.
I love that he will try things that I suggest. I know he's not a big crab person, but at least he's willing to try. We got a soft shell crab for an appetizer and he gave it a try. I still paid for it because I felt bad.
It makes me happy I'm with him.
P.S. What kind of town closes their Starbucks at 5P.M on a Saturday?!
- Location:B32C
- Mood:
loved - Music:Sweet Disposition - Temper Trap
In all seriousness, though: I couldn't go to the university service because I had class, but there was an even larger one at the War Memorial just off campus. I had class at 11:30 that I couldn't skip, but Burdz and I decided to go anyway. Stephen Harper was there, Michaelle Jean came, and then Prince Charles and Camilla (wearing a funny hat, because I suppose that is what the British do on solemn occasions) showed up - people actually clapped for them. Not sure whether that's because no-one really wanted to clap for Stephen or whether it's because we see him all the time but these are New People, or because we only realized by the third shiny car that we should be clapping? Not sure, but I saw the royals today, so I guess that's neat.
It was a beautiful day - sunny and clear and only chilly, not cold. The crowd stood close around each other, a few small children on shoulders. We sang O Canada together, something I rarely get to do but love doing, everyone at a different speed and pitch and volume, most quietly murmering, but singing it nonetheless. And then Taps started and I was GONE. Throughout the two minutes of silence, the end of Taps, the flyby, the 12-gun salute, and the cannon firing, I couldn't do anything but cry silently and think of it: of Darryl, of his friends, of my grandfather, of my grandfather's friends, of all the people my age and younger having the biggest responsabilities in the world. And I don't have those, don't have to, and I don't think I'm big enough to fathom what that means, what it means to give that. To go through that. Or to be someone who grows up with war, around war, with firing guns and blood and uncertainty. I don't know at all, and likely I won't ever, and I flinched every time a cannon or gun went off, and I'm not sure if I'll ever have the words to describe why it is that Remembrance Day hits me so hard but it does. I can't help but be overwhelmingly thankful, though and in and amongst all the thankfulness there's a feeling of loss, too.
And I felt ashamed last year, felt ashamed this year too, because it feels a little like I don't have a claim to that feeling - I haven't lost what Jolene, what Darryl, what so many others lose. But I love them and thank them too, I guess. They helped me too: isn't that the point, that so many people gave this to people they wouldn't ever know? When they started laying the wreaths Burdz and I had to start leaving (which made me feel horrible), walking through the crowd with small "excuse me"s and "sorry"s and "thank you"s with me looking an aboslute wreck, still shuddering every time they fired the cannon. And - this is true -
A soldier in the crowd stopped me, put his hand on my arm and told me to wait while I snuffled and blinked at him, sun too bright, and he pulled a kleenex out of his backpack and gave it to me, and the lady beside him said 'Bless you' and I don't even remember what I said, but it was one of the biggest gifts anyone's ever given me. He probably needed it more than I did, was in the military, probably knew and loved some people that died and knew what it meant, but he didn't know that, he gave a crying girl a kleenex and just. In loss there's human love, and I hope I said thank you but I don't remember.
I remember lots of things today.
<3In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)
- Location:war memorial
- Mood:
thankful
And... I didn't know him, but I remember him, and I think of him, and I thank him more than words can say. Just... thank you. So so much.
<3
This is just about what I'm learning:
This is my first year doing it and I have to say, I'm finding out some things about myself.
1) I have been tending to skip scenes when I get stuck, replacing them with bracketed text like [REMEMBER TO GO BACK AND ESTABLISH THAT GABE WAS A GOOD BROTHER AT ONE POINT EVEN IF HE IS A TOTAL DOUCHE NOW] This is problematic. I have learned I cannot skip that many scenes without ending up with fanfiction of my own characters. Who are you people and why are you in my book?
2) Maggie, do you remember how you always said that you hated the first 10K words of whatever novel you're working on? Well, that's still true. Actually, it was the first 9,644 this time. And you know, because sure as he%& you were counting. At 9,644, the following IM was sent to
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everflame : me: oh yay yay YAY finally I found my damn novel, Tess!!!!!
Yes, I was so excited that I swore. I thought I would hate this novel forever.
3) It was hard for me to write every day before NaNo. And it still is. I really need that downtime inbetween to lay on my living room floor playing my brainstorming music so loud that my butt cheeks wiggle. I'm still adapting, by trying to intersperse my writing with butt cheek time all on the same day.
4) I am less in love with the principle of it than I thought I would be. I can see how it really would make non-finishers finally finish. But I have a hard time believing that this wreck of a draft, this un-nuanced piece of crappola, this totally unsubtle plot-explosion, will in the end take less time than a traditional four month draft of mine. Because revisions, oi! This baby is going to need so much work in the aftermath that the fact that the first draft was quick will be a pyrrhic victory. Oh don't you tell me with the squiggly red lines that PYRRHIC is spelt wrong, you crazy spell checker you. I'm classically educated and you're just a wikipedia jockey. 5) Terribly, I still felt that rush of satisfaction at reaching the first 10K words. And I'm at 12,024 words. I am, despite knowing better, still a word count ho.
6) Also, I was very inspired by getting copies of my Italian SHIVER in the mail -- this happened right before my brainstorm that made me like my book. See the pretty? See the real slashes in the cover? (note to Italian fans: I find it amusing and terrifying that you have been emailing actors who look like Sam. They have been emailing me and telling me about it.)So, how about you guys? What have you learned?
- Music:"Corryvreckan" - William Jackson
Soon we’ll back to regular updates and I’ll roll out the new website, but in the meantime, here’s our third week of art devoted to some of my favorite comics online. This week we move away from longform narrative comics and head for strip land, with Arthur (duck) and Flaco (lizard) from Dave Kellett’s Sheldon.
There are many strips online that I enjoy deeply, but Sheldon is the only one that makes me feel like I’m a little kid again, pressing my nose with delight against the daily newsprint funnies while I wolf down a bowl of Rice Chex before school. Calvin & Hobbes was a strip at the time which, even if I didn’t get every joke, was so exuberant that I loved every panel. I think 9 year-old me would’ve felt the same way about Sheldon.
As it is, 26 year-old me happily returns to Sheldon every day, snerking at the obscure “grown-up” or pop culture jokes and quietly enjoying the sheer silliness of it all.
Dave Kellett is also a bonafide funnybook scholar and a stand-up fella. Bless the internet for bringing him to us in this day and age!
{wp version}My maternal grandfather died a couple of years ago.
We were very fond of each other – he took me to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival (a full day and a half drive) from 7th grade through my high school graduation, a gift of immeasurable impact. He was a bright, curious, caring, and endlessly enthusiastic man. He reacted with genuine joy whenever his didactic little granddaughter held forth on erudite topics. I still remember his delight upon hearing me tear apart the production of Romeo and Juliet that was one of the first productions we saw together at OSF.
I didn’t ask for anything of his after he passed away; my mother knowingly brought me a few things that meant a lot, but all in all my memories were the most vivid token of our relationship. Recently, however, his last wife sent my mother a number of his old files. Including one entire manila folder full of every letter and picture and document I had ever sent him, or that my parents had sent him relating to me.
So I’ve rediscovered verything from short stories I wrote in second grade to novellas I wrote in middle school to graduation notices and e-mails and silly cards. I haven’t quite had the strength to go through all of it yet, but one thing I did find: the poem below. I remember this odd, apocalyptic little poem quite well but had no record of it myself, so knowing that he had it all along is very touching.
And, now that he’s gone, the poem – being as its topic is a girl with a fondness for the departed – takes on a sweet poignance.
Anyway. Here it is.
Annie stayed.
Annie McSalva stood that day
but no one was there to enjoy her stay
only the ghosts had not gone away
Annie remained for the ghosts.
Annie McSalva walked down the streets
her feet tapping sidewalk to various beats
She looked in the theatres, all empty seats
Annie played Hamlet for ghosts.
Annie McSalva read all the books
out loud, in the library, and none gave sharp looks
the ghosts listened well in their crannies and nooks
Annie read on for the ghosts.
Annie McSalva swam in the pond
that led to the gutters and sewers beyond
but nobody stayed to drink that which was fond
to Annie, who swam with the ghosts.
Annie McSalva lay in the sun
and thought that the world had only begun
but the ghosts whispered back that it almost was done
Annie survived with the ghosts.
photo by Nocturnal Bob
{wp version}1. Music from the Ballad video is now up for download for my site. (up for down, did you catch that?)
2. Some sketches from the Sketchbook of Doom. These are from the way to and from AASL.
3. My current musical obsession: "Percussion Gun" by White Rabbits. The whole album rocks. I can't stop listening to it. It's like if Vampire Weekend had babies with The Bravery. (also, if that happened, could I watch?)
The Halloween store deserves a story...
My journey started not as the chipper sales clerk I began as, but as the shopper who virtually LIVED at the Spirit Halloween store. I haunted that establishment as if I were Christmas past on Ebenezer Scrooge... buying possibly the most useless, but most entertaining props imaginable to make the spooky holiday at my home it's best. That, and I respected that they gave to a charity! The Spirit of Children Foundation.
Arnold Palmer Children's hospital was our store's choice, and the third Tuesday of October representatives from each region would go and adorn a room full to the brim with costumes and decorations; basically throwing an amazing party for these deserving kids.. Donating gave me a good feeling, and a really cool bag to hold my theater makeup in...
At the insistence and encouragement from my sister, I picked up an application and shakily filled it out (wrong at first, of course.....), ridiculously hopeful. Two weeks later, I was (needless to say) peeved...wondering why they wouldn't even give a courtesy call for goodness sakes! Rejection was WELCOMED at this point for sure. But, undeterred (and in need of some Halloween supplies), I stopped by again and was halted at the registers by the manager; who explained she misplaced my application and needed me to fill it out again. The confusion should have been my first apocalyptic sign of what was to come. There's that First Horseman looming by the children's costumes in the corner.
So I filled out another application, and soon after was set up for an interview. Oh be still my beating heart! The date was set! The time! I was excited for sure, but certainly more cautious than my first go-around.
In the back of my head, I knew the Second Horseman was browsing the make-up wall...
The time was 9:50 AM, and I was fashionably early because... well, I was already fashionable.. sporting my white collar, black sweater and skirt combo. My hair nice, shiny and straightened. GURL, I was lookin' GEWD... With confidence in tow, and a belly full of butterflies, my sister (who accompanied me) and I approached the door to find it locked...
Huh... that's a little odd...
However, through some clearing of the door banner of a red-eyed, photo-shopped mummy reaching out at me (and the other a bloody massacre of words spelling 'KEEP OUT'...) I could see movement! There was a whole tour of people with the manager; who, when she finally heard my knocking, looked surprised to see me as I did her in her.. green Philadelphia Eagles Jersey and short khaki shorts. So much for formality. Then again, I should have been listening to that Second Horseman..
In my head, I'm screaming that I should just turn and walk away, get in the car and never look back if I wanted the miracle and splendor of Halloween to still remain intact in my heart (As I wished for Publix, and the charm I once thought it had). I could have run at any time.. especially when she asked "What time is it? When was your interview? Gimme ten minutes."
Oh you gotta' be kidding me! You're the manager! I've seen more organization from 3 year-olds on their first coloring page. Have your stuff together, woman... or at least trick me and dress nicely or something. FOOL MY TRUSTING NATURE!
Then, it was.. "Gimme five more minutes... can you go circle the Wal-Mart parking lot a couple of times?" I'm sure this had to be a living hell for my sister... she could have very well let me go it alone and been sleeping in. But I'm sure seeing this ridiculousness was worth it.
Muttering confusion under my breath, my sister piped up as soon as the doors slammed to our four door ship of a mini-van. "Yeah, we'll be back, we're just gonna run home to change and come back for the pajama party..."
I never knew how accurate that statement could be.. she was the Second Horseman. Here I was, dolled up for the occasion as if I'd finally been hired for Disney, and there the manager is in her shirt and shorts made for a 13-year-old on a 30-something year-old body. How foolish I was...
By the time we get things together and actually MAKE IT into the store from the already sweltering heat of a Floridian September, she turns to me quickly and speaks as though I'm a court-room stenographer. "OhIalreadyknowIwanttohireyoubecauseyouc
thisiswhatyoushouldknowandthisiswhatI'll
However, the next part was in the most satisfying slow motion. Associates, as she informed me, were to bring into the workplace a positive, fun, encouraging attitude. That was probably the most worthwhile thing that passed through her lips; and it was a number one priority. If it proved you couldn't be one of these employees ( as I would think), they had no use for you and you were either stuck stocking (Like some sort of Richman Avenal from 'The IT Crowd' http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIEKNsznz
To continue:
She then took a moment to pause and gave a sweet, curled smile. "When can you start?"
I needed a comical jab to get me out of it, but unfortunately I wasn't on a Disney Channel kiddie series. So, I added my own laugh track as I snapped out of it and sputtered "Uh, tomorrow?"
And away we went to celebrate.
Now, before I continue, I'm not going to go into every day I worked there.. you'd probably wish I'd delete my LiveJournal account. But I am going through the highlights.
Day One- Walked onto the premisis and AGAIN found the door to be locked, and not a soul found to let me in or wonder who the heck was knocking on their door an hour before opening..finally this short, bouncy haired, wide-eyed woman answered the door; another who spoke quickly and nervously. I was starting to think that maybe some sort of gass was coming in through the ventilation system; affecting the speech rate of those it came in contact with.. Or, there was cocaine intermingled with the candy corn in the break room-Which I was more than willing to accept after meeting some of my co-workers.
Anyhow, I was promised this day I'd learn register... but I was put on dressing rooms instead. Wait.. I wanted to walk the floor, get to know customers I'd probably never see again. This was just like Publix! Stuck behind a counter and only encountering the two extremes: The quiet, kind, patient morning crowd or... the absolutely insane at night because there's nothing left.
Maryanne, the wired woman I met at the front door, was another manager who often travelled around other stores with her husband Adam (few words can describe him other than he bickers and talks down to Maryanne in front of customers and associates); and she proved to be sweet, but also very paranoid. Every time I'd step out of my little box behind the counter, she'd shoo me back or tell me to put something away. On top of that.. I wore the wrong shoes to work and had to stay back there the rest of the day because Adam said I might "Step on something". Lord help me..
When we open, only a handful of customers meander in; a few nervous pre-schoolers clung tight their parents, the parents who are looking through the suggestive adult costumes.. young women before their shifts at work trying on the hootchie momma police uniforms or Alice trapped in Slutty Wonderland. Whatever. It's not so bad until I see this creep-job guy walk in.. a stout man with a slightly distended belly and shifty eyes behind his coke-bottle frames. His shirt is what put the stuffing in the turkey (so to..speak..). First of all, it looked a little too tight.. and second, right across his chest was the words "METROCON" with two cartoony wolves on either side. I'm not dissin' the Anime people, or the Furries, not by ANY means... but, this guy is the worst thing walkin' around if you want others to think what you're into is cool..I was a little confused to say the least, because the event was primarily an Anime convention.. not a Furry con. Hmmm..shady indeed.
Anyhow, when he had gone (giving me as little eye contact as possible), my nosy self went to see what he was looking at....our adult baby costume.
The rest of the day wasn't so bad.. In fact, it was amazing when my friend Justin showed up.
Justin is this tall, lanky guy who, at first glance of his mixed hair color, I thought was gay..I'm not stereotyping, but lemme just say I have a sixth sense. This was not the case for him.
We grew to be quick friends, though to any outsider it looked as if we were always finding some way to insult each other. He would misconstrue something innocent I'd say, and I'd come back with a comment about how he has a lot to compensate for (if you know what I mean). For a while I thought things would go too far and we'd really piss one another off; but to my surprise, one day by the mask wall (while he was arranging it) he said:
"Y'know, in every job I've had, I always meet that one person who can match my wit at every corner. Here, you're that person..."
HA! Excellent! If that's not a confidence booster, I don't know what is. And honestly, he made working there all the more worth it because he was constantly challenging my brain-power to come up with something to throw him off. Sometimes, he left it wide open, sometimes I faltered like Porky-Pig.. every day was different. And, he loved that I enjoyed wearing the costumes too. In one day he changed into 28 different costumes: but his favorite was the nun outfit with the purple bobbed wig. I myself, was a lobster in a pot. If our paths never cross again, I'll still be glad I had the memory of him. He was real, he was witty, refreshing, and I enjoyed being his friend every minute.
And then...I met Chris... Chris, has big, rough hands, salt- and-pepper accented hair, a light mustache and has probably seen many rough days. Chris, is also a woman.
At the end of my day she began telling me all the things I was doing wrong in the costume department and rehashing the rules I just learned. Now, I don't have a problem being corrected where I am wrong, but she was barking these orders at me. I was beginning to wonder if that "positive attitude first" was just a rouge to get me to agree to staying overtime.
That, coupled with all the big women who decided that the hoe-hoe fireman costume was just for them, was my first day at work...
The other co-workers? Young teens or people in their late 40's to early 50's.
But there was one who was always thinking of me, and she was an absolute sweetheart. Her name was Cathy, and she made things, like Justin, worthwhile at the register. Cathy was not like Justin in attitude, but with his level of wit her kindness was parallel; she'd bring me food, drinks, compliment my makeup, and would overall boost me with encouragement. And I certainly did my best to be that for her too.
Now, what is a Halloween store without all the crazy costumes? From each day to the next I was either a witch, cowboy, vampire, were-wolf, lobster in a pot, Ghostbuster, tiger, or insanely weird Sasquatch (MY FAVORITE...). But again, here comes Maryanne on the raincloud to drown my parade, informing me that we are to chose one costume and stick with it. Huh, like anyone is buying the $100 Bigfoot costume..
Registers- As much as I hated being trapped behind a counter, and touching all that nasty, dirty money; it was great to learn how to work a register and be given the chance to finally have that under my belt... However, when the manager knows you've finally obtained this skill, you're stuck there, my friend...
Makeup/ Accessories- Here is my specialty, and I was dubbed "Our Resident Make-up Expert" (which may not be much, or may even be inaccurate, but It was satisfying to have this knowledge and to be able to help.) by Chrissy. From trial and error, I warned customers about using baby powder first as a base before you apply your make-up and what colors to use to get the right look. What helped me the most was wearing the product, because that's what the customers wanted. What didn't help me was being stuck at the Halloween store for 7 or 8 hours and having a helluva itch on my nose. Then came the Scarecrow Brand Vampire Fangs, which were the only fangs I recommended and wore... I'm telling you I could have sold garlic to the vampires themselves! And it was to my advantage to have the lesser, cheap brands on the same wall to prove my point. On the last day I worked, I believe I helped to sell them all.
My last day was a total bombshell...my eye was incredibly irritated because I was wearing makeup and old contacts, my feet had blisters from the previous night closing Spirit and I was there from 10 AM to 9 PM. I don't mind working long hours as long as I'm given something to do to make the time pass, but I was behind the clinking-ringing cash registers all day; taking money from the last minute customers who could only find the worst costumes still on our shelves. Needless to say, they were also crabby because our stock was so low..
However, Gloria (A funny associate who Justin often scared with the Michael Myers costume) brought some brown rice and Lynn (the most miserable woman working there) brought pork for dinner because we were open until 7 AM for Halloween day; so I was pretty full and content in that area until I left.
This Journal may seem a little vague on details, only because there were so many (And I got lazy toward the end). And many memories were left out because they were simply too long to record, but I'll never forget them, and I'm sure I'm never going to work for Spirit ever again... I love Halloween too much....My Final thought? Jobs... no matter how great they seem, like working for Disney, are only going to be as great as you make them. You be miserable, and the job is miserable. I had a few bad days, because I let things get to me, but the general feeling was that of a wonderful experience.
- Mood:
accomplished
We tried to walk around the mall, but our list of things to do was a bit limited because Nic's mom has a broken foot - I had to leave for a meeting and my politics class (during which Burdz and I finished an entire crossword puzzle! So proud of ourselves...), but went to see an IMAX with them afterwards. The IMAX wasn't that good :( I miss the old IMAXes, the ones about coral reefs and rainforests and the Nile, where you get hardcore motion sickness and helicopters going through valleys and stuff. Those were epic.
We brought Nic, Catya, and Marley with us to dinner and then the Roommates and I went off to see Musician Man's show (a classmate of ours has a band - very good band - and he'd asked us to come and we were perfectly thrilled to), which was all the way out in bumfuck nowhere, but we made it! It was in a CHURCH which had been converted for the night into a SKATE PARK. Yeah, you heard that right. It soon became evident why he had asked us to come.
CATYA (via text): Is this going to be a high school party?
HE: I dunno but it's gonna be siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick!
(We quoted him on that for the duration of the night, ps. No-one says that and gets away without a little bit of teasing.) It was mostly high-school students - actually, mostly grade 9 boys in hipster shirts (lol), but it was pretty cool, and their band is really good! They were the second set, so we all rushed up to stand under the stage (...pulpit?) and pretended to be bowing, lol. It was a lot of fun, and he obviously appreciated having us there (since we were, like, the whole crowd), and they were AMAZING! <3 I went for crepes this morning with the family before they had to leave. I love seeing them!
P.S. JON STEWART YOU WERE ALREADY MY FAVOURITE PERSON BUT NOW I LOVE YOU EVEN MORE. I don't think anyone's allowed to say you can't act anymore, lol. XDDD
P.P.S. I have listened to this song like 18 million times. Each time it gets more hilarious - especially because I have one that has Ryan Seacrest's radio show on either end and so I have to listen to him say 'bro' every time. Also I seem to be on some kind of Kelly Clarkson kick, which is odd as I don't normally like her style of music but I have honestly done nothing but listen and dance to it for like two weeks now.
- Location:church skate park
- Mood:
pleased - Music:For Your Entertainment - Adam Lambert
- Mood:
rushed
The one I have now is a student model, a Selmer Orchestra. I've had it since High School, i'm now almost done with college and I plan on getting my masters degree in music education so I really want a more professional cello. I also plan on getting into community orchestras and pit orchestras more often now.
I teach lessons at the music store i've been at for years, and i've been able to get away with my cello, the sound is great don't get me wrong, I just want an upgrade :]
What do you recommend? Price isn't an issue right now, so just give me what you got.
I'm also researching a bit at home and at work. the instruments we sell at my store are all student model so I Would need to order something.
thanks in advance<3
also, what type of bows do you use?
Url: http://www.x-thc.com/live.html
Sound: http://www.x-thc.com/multimedia.html
In development for over eleven years, X: The Human Condition has been designed to embrace the expanding possibilities of multimedia in entertainment. Featuring an immersive, multi-sensory environment, the live, dynamic concert performance by the music group X: THC, enhanced by the emotionally charged film, X: The Human Condition, previews its uplifting and stimulating shock to the senses for Thanksgiving at the Brooklyn multimedia space, Monkeytown (58 North 3rd St., Brooklyn, NY), on Wednesday, November 25th at 10:00 pm. $5 cover,$10 minimum. Full late night dinner menu available.
Thanksgiving is traditionally a time to share with family and friends, but it is also a time when some people feel most disconnected, alienated and alone. X: THC has partnered with the Jed Foundation and AFSP to donate a portion of the profits from X: The Human Condition to help these non-profit organizations in their work, dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, self-injury and suicide. They exist to encourage, educate, inspire and invest into prevention, treatment and recovery.
Age I'll be on my next birthday, Nov 18: 28
Number of e-mails I received and replied to in October: 4,165
number of e-mails from Scholastic in Oct: 47
number of e-mails from my agent in Oct: 24
Word count for my NaNo novel so far: 6,673
Number of LiveJournal comments replied to in Oct: 389
Number of my husband's tropical fish I killed in October: 11*
Number of friends added on Facebook in October: 306
Number of harp strings I strung by hand last week: 32
Number of messages received on Facebook in October: 105
Number of wall posts received on Facebook in October: 646
Number of nostrils a human breathes through at any given time: 1**
Number of weeks SHIVER has been on the NYT Bestseller List: 14
Number of people living on the smallest of the Scilly Isles: 90
Days on the road for SHIVER in October: 12
Hours of driving logged in Loki: 11
Number of giant snails featured on my blog: 2
*I did not mean to kill his fish. I merely added some water at a perfect 72 degrees to the tank. And they came over all dead-like the next day. And the day after. And the day after that. And the day after that.
**I discovered this while looking up remedies for stuffed up nose (saltwater rinse works awesome, by the way). A person only breathes through one nostril at a time (put your finger 1/2 inch under your nose to see which nostril you're using), and which side is dominated by the hemisphere of the brain that is currently active. Left brain: right nostril. Right brain: left nostril. Unless you're stimulating your brain to use one side of the other, each hemisphere dominates in cycles that last from two to four hours. You can also clarify your thinking and balance your brain by using the yoga technique of pinching one nostril shut and breathing out of one side and then the other a few times. Cool, yes? Okay, so it's not. but now you've learned something against your will.
And now, number of bags I'm off to pack for my flight? 1
Hey hey hey, guess what I got sixteen boxes of in the mail today? If you guessed it was sixteen boxes of the second printing of Bite Me!, then you win!
As an extra “thank you” to everybody who ordered while the book was reprinting, trusting all the while that I was not going to run off to Cabo with their hard-earned $15, I’m including a nifty print I whipped up just for the occasion. I promised “Claire and Lucien bein’ silly”, and lo, hopefully this qualifies:
Oh, those crazy kids. Two peas in a pod, really. A dead, bloodsucking pod.
It will be a delightful 6×10.5 inches so I can slip it into your book order all handy-like. If I have any left over, I’ll put the extras online next week for those who might be interested.
{wp version}Page Summary
- m_stiefvater : Hey, you Virginia Types: Book Signing Today [+3]
- mistaken_heroes :: roguedemonhunte : (no subject) [+0]
- m_stiefvater : The Early (Horrible) Writings of Maggie Stiefvater [+8]
- mcollinknight : Food for Thought [+3]
- m_stiefvater : Three Things on a Thursday: the Autographed Italian Boy Edition [+31]
- freckled_eyes : A Moment, A Love, A Dream Aloud [+0]
- mcollinknight : That mark our place; and in the sky the larks, still bravely singing, fly [+6]
- mcollinknight : Remembrance [+0]
- m_stiefvater : What is NaNoWriMo Teaching You About Yourself? [+43]
- quirkybird : Wednesday Fan Art [+0]
- quirkybird : Monday Morning Poem: Annie Stayed. [+6]
- m_stiefvater : Maggie, in Music & Pictures [+46]
- mistresssusan : Halloween Party Store [+0]
- mcollinknight : don't trip off the glitz that i'm gonna display [+23]
- barlowgirlfans :: anakaliaandrea : Podcast: tour time [+0]
- grace_poppy : dear LJ, [+38]
- cellists :: lexamuffin : (no subject) [+2]
- nyc_arts :: musicdish : Inspiring Music And Film Multimedia Experience, X: The Human Condition Previews For Thanksgiving [+0]
- m_stiefvater : The Numbers Post [+71]
- quirkybird : Second printing! [+12]