My other summer task is way more fun: 'consume all the media I've acquired and then forgotten about'. Of course there are the Doctor Who EDAs I picked up ages ago, but there's also some Due South episodes and a whole pile of comics I'm gradually decompressing, arranging, and reading. Right now I'm working through "The Avengers: Nights of Wundagore", which thus far seems to be about some government schmuck paring down the Avengers roster, various wacky villains, and the tangled web that is Wanda and Pietro's parentage. At a guess, I'd say it's from the early eighties--it's a little strange, but not balls-to-the-wall bizarre; there is a delightful lack of grit, mullets, or leather jackets; the art is good, the characterization is decent, and there are comparatively few exclamation points.
Other stuff I have includes a ton of Black Widow comics, a stack of Ravager (Rose Wilson; I had never heard of her but she sounds interesting), some Jaime Reyes-Blue Beetle, the greatest hits of Iron Man, and I believe there's a handful of X-Whatever stuff floating around somewhere that I've been meaning to get into. Good stuff, I am so pleased.
Throw in a few art projects (scholarships and portfolio build-up), shopping for the move (LAYERS--it gets damn cold up there), a family reunion in July (kill me), and various and sundry other events, and I've got a full dance card this summer. At least I won't be bored.
You pull your hair back into a ponytail,and then you run your fingers down the part of your hair and deep into the ponytail's base to make a kind of narrow pocket along your scalp. Then, if you have very thick, long hair like me you'll have to stuff the free ends of ponytail down the pocket in sections, possibly rolled up; if it's shorter and/or finer I think you can just roll it all up and jam it straight in. After that, pin the base of the former ponytail in and down with barrettes. If you have one, clip one of those flat, fancy hair clip things right over the whole tucked-up mass to repair the divide on the back of your head and make the whole thing look pretty.
Took a few tries to accomplish the tucking-in portion of the process evenly, but now that I've mastered the trick of it I'm going to use it a lot. It's not difficult, and I love the way I look with my sleek pinned-up hair and my Serious Glasses on, the picture of the unconsciously-sexy librarian . Let's see if I can't make some heads turn when I'm all decked out for class. ^__^ Hey, this semester, my classes are boring, I have to get my kicks somehow.
I'm taking two Intro to Design classes and they're neither of them what I expected... or wanted, truth be told. One is basic principles of design, full stop. I thought we'd work more with paints and composition, which I was looking forward to since I need practice with paint and color, but apparently it's all working with paper cut-outs and rubber cement. For a class eerily reminiscent of kindergarten, we get graded very harshly on craftsmanship. The other is computer design, which was billed as the same thing but with the bonus of gaining invaluable experience with Macs. Unfortunately, all the work's been on InDesign, a highly-specialized program I won't use much, instead of PhotoShop, which I desperately need practice in. The lectures in both classes are both overly simplistic and uninformative. I spend a lot of time drawing robots and plants and patterns, dreaming of someday when I am elsewhere, a real university student getting a real education, maybe even having a real life.
IT IS FEBRUARY. If that doesn't tell you the weather patterns aren't totally fucked right now, I don't even know what to say.
( grumbling about apocalyptic scenarios and those who die in Act I )
But a friend of mine I'd thought I wasn't going to ever see again is back in town, healthy and cheerful and attending classes again despite rotten circumstances, and that's eased a weight off my mind. We traded phone numbers and promised to hang out and see a movie at his place sometime. My dear friend and him got along well the few times they met; I think with time they'd make for good companions.
If my typing voice seems odd, blame Sherlock Holmes and Bertie Wooster. I had a fic binge recently and as tends to happen with me and any distinctively-written fiction, it's infected my syntax and shot my speaking style all to hell.
I've spent the last few weeks silently convinced that the end of the semester would herald my academic demise. I've been somewhat deficient in a class or two. It built up, and by exam time I just put my head down and hoped like hell the teachers were feeling merciful. I've pulled this EVERY SEMESTER. I don't know why.
Fortunately, they were feeling merciful, so I won't have to find some way to tell my parents I'm on academic probation again. This biannual scholastic fugue state I drive myself into is beyond pointless, I have got to learn how to stop sabotaging myself.
I live about fifteen minutes from campus and I had a little time between my afternoon Global Studies and my evening Spanish class. The moment I got out of the one, I went home and devoured some reheated corn-on-the-cob and a turkey sandwich right before I turned around and drove back for the other.Problem: if I eat well after I've been hungry, there tends to be a period of blank, blissful stupidity afterward, like a python on a warm day after it's eaten a baby hippo. Basically I showed up to class just in time to stare at nothing and stutter thickly over the simplest questions (the alphabet, el alfabeto, what is the letter after 'eme'? Es la una de la tarde, okay, now how do you tell time when the hour is not one?) while my brain slowly reasserted itself over my stomach. Still can't remember the name of the sweet woman who sat next to me, introduced herself with a handshake, and very kindly ignored that the hand I offered her still had a pencil and an eraser in it. I also don't know what times I signed up for the one-hour-a-week Spanish language lab and what the fuck I did with my Spanish homework (thankfully due Thursday, but still). It was a mess.
Clearly it's worse if I am hungry, however, because in Global Studies I cheerfully lent someone else--whose name and phone number I do not know--my textbook, with the assurance that I'd pick it up at 8 because that was the most convenient time for me tomorrow. My last class of Wednesday offically ends at six-thirty and lets out way earlier. I completely forgot this. SOY UNA FRACASADA.
And I had to unfollow someone due to racist graphic now that Tumblr's gotten their shit together and supported Spanish. Nice work, dash, good to see you failing at life.
It's weird. I've been dreaming of financial and personal independence since I was eleven, but I've always been held back--and held myself back, to be honest. I mean, I never even tried to apply to college when I was in high school because I didn't know how to do it, I couldn't ask anyone for help, and I didn't think I was smart enough. Now I'm almost twenty-one and I'm finally getting my feet under me for the first time.
That's really scary. Or it should be. Strangely enough, I'm actually feeling quite calm. I think it's because, for the first time, I have people I can ask for help who will give me kind and applicable advice.
However, I'd appreciate it if the entire internet weren't beautifully equipped for high school students preparing to embark on their freshman year of college. Now, I don't begrudge those students, but note that I am a community college student looking to finish up my A.A. & transfer out. The deafening silence? Is really not encouraging.