psalm_onethirtyone: (Cascade Pond)
So. I finally finished the religion/history paper that was bringing about my doom, and now it's time to start the contemporary religion paper that is going to be the doom of the next few weeks. Delightful! I met with the professor about the first paper, and she essentially told me that I was choking on writing it because I was overprepared. And then when I said I was a neurotic overachiever she agreed. XD So there's that.

It's hard to believe that in fewer than six weeks my poetry study will be over. It's basically one of the best things I've ever done, and I'm... I don't want to stop. The professor who's doing that with me loves dogs and poetry, so I'm buying him a copy of Sharon Creech's Love That Dog as a thank-you gift.

Last Sunday I did the hive consolidation for our bees essentially on my own (there was a sophomore assisting me, but she kind of stood thirty feet away the whole time). That was really exciting and it felt really cool to be doing something like that, to be responsible... I got stung nine times, once on the back of the neck, and I'm not dead! That was exciting too. Only I didn't have the guts to pinch the queen, so I put her in a tupperware and when she died I gave her to the entomology professor.

Maria has decided that she wants to be an entomologist. I think it's really cool; I also think it's a job where she can do stuff that's both academic and intellectually stimulating, and lots of fieldwork and stuff that's hands-on. I think she'd be bored and miserable in an office or at a teaching job, but entomology has lots of practical application and also bees. AWESOME. I'm really proud of her.

I applied for the intercollegiate honours society yesterday, which was torture -- with the application in front of me I couldn't think of a single noteworthy thing I'd ever done. >_> Luckily it's sent off and I never have to look at it again, and I don't really care if I get in -- I only applied because Daddy really wanted me to.

My mama called me on Monday night to tell me that my cat, Calico, was hit on the road and killed. She was thirteen, so I am torn between 'well she lived a long full life' and 'but I've had her since I was a wee kid!'. I told Maria that I was sad that she'd never get to bite me again (she was also the meanest, nastiest cat in existence), and Maria said she was probably in purgatory, biting the sinners. It's an amazingly comforting image. Callie would have no place in heaven. Mama said that to replace her I can have one of the kittens in the barn, so I'm looking forward to trying to catch one of them to tame. Actually, I'll be catching all of them if I can, because I think she wants to try and tame one for my cousin Johanna, who's decided she really wants a DLH for Christmas (although Johanna wants her DLH to have a smush-face, which I think is kind of ugly, and these kitties don't have them).

On Monday I'll be sitting on a panel to raise awareness for invisible illnesses, discussing bipolar disorder! That's pretty cool.

I also finally got paid by the church, so I'll be able to pay the guy who did the photography and digital editing for my picture book, which is a relief, because I feel like the worst client ever right now. >_> He asked about payment two weeks ago and I had to tell him that I hadn't got the money yet. The editing is almost done; right now I'm working on putting the individual pieces together into pages, which is harder than I thought it would be. I only have three done.

I've been watching a hilarious Let's Play of Silent Hill 4 lately, which is pretty much my only "fun" outlet besides RP. Oh, school.

So that's all the content of the last month, I think. Now I'll go back to posting contextless poetry and stupid Tweets about religion films (another one to-morrow! :D).
psalm_onethirtyone: (Grow a Little Good)
I'm feeling lots better, although I still can't eat most solid foods, so Maria and I did chores to-day. She made bread, and I got to help make brandied apricot preserves--we canned ten jars, but one fell. Maria hung laundry on the line, we dug new potatoes, and even managed to entice Rogue and Gambit in for a little scratching, although they are still suspicious. They are also suspicious because when they came close to the horse fence Quaker put his head over, snuffled Rogue's behind gently, and then chomped down, sending her squealing across the hog yard.

Lastly, we banded the turkey hens. Unfortunately, one of them beat me in the face with her wing, and I think one of my molars is loose. >_> She got me right in the wisdom tooth socket, of course. One of the stitches came out, but it didn't start bleeding or anything, so I think it's all right, but Maria says I have a big bruise. That'll be nice for church to-morrow.

Other than that, it is mostly just too hot to live.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Dye My Eyes and Call Me Pretty)
Style meme!

Silliness! Britannia folks only, this go-around )

And, bonus, one for [livejournal.com profile] mhari:

Laura Ross
Height: 5'10"
Build: Thin, but sturdy, and highly muscular
Hair: Long, red, and prone to tangles
Style: Sweaters and jeans. She prefers dark colours, blacks, browns, greys, subdued greens and navys, and the occasional porridge-y beige. Clothes are very much not her thing.
Pajamas: In the Army she slept in her uniform pants and an undershirt. As a civilian, she wears a long cotton/poly green nightgown of her mother's, and it always makes her feel weird.

---

in other news, I am finally not sick again--apparently, you subject your body to one little bout of hypoglycaemia on a Friday and you spend the next three days dying of a fever and massive digestive system trauma. Also, I'm allergic to bee stings after all. My hand is finally not the size of a grapefruit any more, but pffffffft.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Love)
Um giez?

I have a girlfriend.

Her name is Jen, and she is completely amazing--she's smart and funny and cute and tall! and she wants to be a copy-editor. She has really short red hair and three piercings in each ear and a nose ring, and wears mostly boys' clothes. Our feet are not quite the same size. She makes jokes that I almost always get, and on Saturday last we walked down to the park and ate lunch together on the swings. She's also kind of shy, and I hugely embarrassed her by asking her out in front of a bunch of people.

Also, I told Ethan Nulton to go fuck himself, because he told me that Steph doesn't deserve to have a service dog at school for her depression, and she should "just suck it up and take Valium". I told him that medications can fuck you up so bad you don't know which way's up, and if a dog can make you feel just as good then there's no reason in hell you shouldn't have your dog for emotional support, and I was really glad that she'd gotten permission. And then when he laughed, that's when I said he could go fuck himself. And then I walked away and tried not to throw up in a corner, and a bunch of people came over and told me I did a good job saying something, which was nice, but I still wanted to throw up.

And asking Jen out didn't really help with that at the offset, but now I feel really glad I did, because she said yes, and-- yeah. It's going to be great. I am going to make it be great.

Also, I dropped her metal water bottle on my foot and it glanced all the skin off my toe. So, um, yeah. I am too happy to care, but I am going to try to get some emergency medical care done. And then I will try to get my homework done, oh God oh God.

Edit: We talked a little on Skype and when I said good-night I said 'love you!' and she said love you back! Ahhhhh!
psalm_onethirtyone: (Try Again To-morrow)
Dear body:

I hate you too. Now do you mind?

No love,
Soujin
psalm_onethirtyone: (Hear that Meta?)
I cut myself like a million places to-night when I was shaving, because I am amazing and brilliant and handy with a razor.

Anyway, I am feeling a lot better than earlier this week, I think in part because I have realised that I don't actually have to hang out with people that I like, and also that Jake makes everybody feel both squicked and ragey, a revelation that makes me feel a lot less like an irrational bitch. Mind, I did stay in bed until supper because I was having horrible dreams and couldn't get rested no matter how long I slept, but I've still managed to get almost all my homework done AND won the contest on Neopets.

And I e-mailed Valentine's love to my parents and sister, and asked Steph if she wanted to meet for baking! to-morrow after lunch, which would be awesome. And if I could draw, believe me, Medieval Medicine would so be a comic strip.

Also, it's hard to have a bad day when you're listening to The Killers.
psalm_onethirtyone: (The Perfect Pool)
I went to a cabaret to-night! With Aaron and Liz and Dani and Phil! It was awesome, and I felt through a chair and jammed my ankle, so Aaron had to give me a piggyback ride home, during which we fell over several times from laughing too hard. Also, me slipping pulled down his jeans, so he had to borrow Phil's belt, and Phil took it off in a totally stripper move.

Now I am sitting in Shawn's room with an icepack on my ankle while they play video games and I pretend to get my homework done.

Fantastic day.
psalm_onethirtyone: (It's a Little Sad To-Night)
good:

-the newspaper likes me; they gave me an important article to write this week
-i'm really excited about yuletide. i got an awesome assignment
-the registrar's office accepted my major
-this weekend was really lovely
-dr. reingold has probably forgiven me for my sins
-i had a nice lunch with sean and amanda, with whom i would like to have a threesome

bad:

-i am so stressed out i want to die
-i have probably got an infection in my thumb from the nail being gone. it is all swollen and smells kind of like putrefaction
-i have this important article and all the interviews for it + a research paper + a book to read + two chapters of o.chem to understand and do problems for + eight hrs of class tuesday and thursday as well as study groups + actually staying alive for this week
-i haven't had dinner
-sean and amanda don't want to have a threesome with me (well, i haven't asked, but i feel pretty confident about this)
psalm_onethirtyone: (Try Again To-morrow)
To-day, at five a.m., I made a very important discovery, a discovery so important that I need to use profanity to discuss it: do not fuck with capsaican, because it will fuck your shit up. I, through a series of events so humiliatingly stupid and mundane that I cannot recount them, managed to massage 15% capsaican solution into the palm of my right hand, and for the last seventeen hours I have tried used topical menthol cream, baking soda, soap and water, cold cream, aloe vera, medicated ointment, aspirin, cold compresses, and ice water, with absolutely no success in relieving the pain.

Imagine, if you will, the sensation of a burn. Now imagine that this burn is all over the sensitive parts of your hand. Imagine your tiny nerve endings screaming "GET YOUR FUCKING HAND OUT OF THE FIRE GODDAMMIT" unceasingly, with one breath, for seventeen hours, and imagine that you are trying desperately to comply but you can't because your hand is NOT IN A FIRE. Also, no one around you is offering much sympathy, because to the whole world, including you, your hand looks perfectly normal.

I read somewhere recently that the military is attempting to develop weapons using this kind of nerve-stimulating technology, so that they can do stuff like break up mobs and give women self-protection devices that inflict pain without any actual wounds or physical damage. Well, I think it should be illegal, that's what I think.

I lost it around five this afternoon and had a screaming, sobbing breakdown, but now I have moved to the cold, frenetic stage. Eventually it will go away. It has to. And if it doesn't, I'm going to go out back and chop my hand off with the turkey axe.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Grow a Little Good)
Dear Soujin:

On page four-hundred sixty-seven of your Life Manual, you can find the deeply important item list Things Not to Bother. This list should have been read carefully by you, the Life customer, when you came to it shortly after reaching year seven in your Life programme. We gather, however, that you have not studied it with the diligence necessary, as you appear to have missed item number seven-hundred and thirteen, specifically:

Nesting guineas.

We regret that you were bitten and hope that from now on you will remember to read the manual.

Signed,
The Management

~

p.s. so now I take Depakote, here's hoping it works.
psalm_onethirtyone: (And Didn't it Shine?)
Let me tell you a story! You all want to hear a story, I know.

So at our house, there is a long long road that goes down by the sheep shed, the hog enclosure, and the chicken house, down along the Mahantango to the tractor crossing. Now we got the land this road is on into a preservation programme, which would be all super except for one thing: the preservation programme stipulates that there can be no motorised vehicles down that road any more. But we still use the road a lot for walking to all the various stuff down it. Long story short, it has to be mowed, but you can't run a mower down there.

So we use a scythe! It's a great piece of work, really functional as long as you sharpen the blade before each use. You obviously have to exert a lot more effort than you would on a riding mower or even a push mower. Well, to-day I decided to mow the path, which is probably a short half a mile. Definitely not more.

Here is a big public service announcement!: if you are planning to mow half a mile of road with a scythe, you should probably make sure you don't do it in the heat of the day. Likewise, you should be properly hydrated and probably wearing some kind of head covering plus sunscreen. You should definitely NOT do it in only a sports bra and jeans after having drunk a diet Dr. Pepper (colas are diuretics, so pretty much the opposite of water). However, it does help if you can pause midway through and go sit in the creek and play with the crawdads.

My right hand is so blistered I can hardly hold anything, and, in typical Soujin fashion, as I was putting the scythe away I tripped on it. I've now got a little less toe on my right foot than I used to. :D But I figured, didn't hurt much, whatever, so I took off my clothes and hung them up on the line and started inside when--! !!! Blood! Leaking perilously close to the carpet! So I had to hop around the house in my underwear looking for bandaids and a towel while Daddy poked his head around the door and said,--

"Soujin? Did you leave Maggie down at the creek?"

Also, the pigs were so laughing at me the whole time. I know they were. Stupid pigs.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Gold-Sun Glory in the Wind)
Fffff I am so sick of haying. And this was only the first day. We pulled in around sixty bales, but decided to save the last hundred for to-morrow, for reasons unknown to me at this time. Anyway, I stepped on a nail in the hay waggon, because I am awesome.

But I did make dinner--I am learning the fine art of Cooking Without Measuring Anything, which is delicate but extremely satisfying. And it tasted great! Although I also burned my hand. It's a very weird burn--one part of it is your typical first degree burn, but there's a bit in the middle that's hard, has a completely different texture. So moral of the story I guess is done stick your hand in the oven, it will hurt.

Tribble is sitting on the computer desk watching me type and waiting to walk on the keyboard, no doubt. She and Spock have been absolute menaces about this. "Eeee it's moving fingers! Pounce pounce pounce!" Also they like to play in the computer wires. I anticipate the eventual death of all three of us from electrocution. Although right now she's chasing her tail.

We're going to Tennessee on Monday and in about two weeks I'll be with [livejournal.com profile] mhari, which will be truly wonderful. I am pining.

tl;dr nothing very exciting is going on but THEN AGAIN Maria says to-morrow we'll be using the MEAT GRINDER so just be advised in case I never appear again.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Grow a Little Good)
My back is sunburned, my legs are covered with nettle stings, I have prickers in my hands from pulling thistles of the onion bed, both my knees are skinned, and I have two fissure wounds in my feet (note to self, it's probably best to remember that people do throw glass into the creek and when it is thrown there it often breaks).

And I feel awesome.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Little Breezes Dusk and Shiver)
The weekend was really wonderful and I think maybe that's why I feel so terrible now, but it's still--frustrating? I think. I just feel really tired and icky and unmotivated, and there's nothing really that I want to do, just--see, I can't even describe it, it's too amorphous. An amorphous blob of depression symptoms. Eurgh.

(On the weekend we picked wild strawberries in the fields, and painted Annette's barn--we took the Quaker driving and he tried to kill us, we waded the flooded creek and sat in the fallen sycamore for an hour just talking, we played with the pigs and the forty-three new chicks--I fed my fish, Levin is getting huge and Cyrano is still beautiful, and we went to see a movie in the theatre and out for lunch and it was just so great to be with everybody and outside and doing all the crazy things we do. we always laugh so hard when we're together.)

And now it's grey and my housemates make me nervous, and I cut my knee and it bled all over my blanket, and I'm tired and I don't like my supervisor, and I hate making dinner for myself but I should do that so I don't starve to death, and. I just don't feel like anything, I don't want to do anything, and nothing is making me happy.

I should call Maria or something and see if my ducks have hatched yet. I don't even know.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Grow a Little Good)
Soon I will be doing a primer on psalms (DON'T SAY A WORD. THAT IS VERY SRS BSNS), but for now I just want you to know that my father thinks I am going to die because I tripped on the sidewalk in the rain yesterday and took all the skin off my knee and part of my leg. He made some reference to 'deadly sidewalk bacteria', I don't even know, anyway so far all it's doing is draining cirrus fluid like a mother and I am kind of regretting the fact that I only took my cute pink Hello Kitty bandaids to Altoona with me. Because they are not really big enough to do anything for this denudation (I took photographs! because I am a person who does things like that).

SO to-morrow I go to Williamsburg. I am allotting myself about fifteen to twenty minutes for getting lost. I am excited, though, I think it will be fun. I know I'm on pediatrics on Friday, but I don't know what I'll be doing the rest of the week. Oh, and Thursday is OMT day, so basically we wander around watching people get therapeutic massage all day long. Maybe they will therapeutically massage me if I ask nicely.

IN THE MEANTIME I would like recommendations for the following:

*Mohindar/Matt
*Mohindar/Sylar
*Spock/Kirk
*Spock/McCoy
*Spock/Kirk/McCoy
*Isaac/Hiro

INDULGE ME. And if you are not familiar with Heroes or Trek, then I demand other fic, specifically Arthurianslash in any form from anyone who dabbles in it.

(I am a little manic to-day. But good! Should I have eggs or leftover chicken for supper?)
psalm_onethirtyone: (HEE!)
So here's a funny story. I went to give blood on Wednesday and was deferred because my pulse was a hundred and twelve. This isn't hugely high, but the cutoff for blood donation is one-hundred and a 'normal' pulse rate would be about eighty. So, too high. But I remembered that I had only had caffeine/diuretic to drink that day and figured that was the problem and whatever.

Thursday I read in the paper that there was a blood drive on Friday in McAllistairville, so I went to that, & made sure to drink plenty of water and eat breakfast and dinner so that my iron would be nice and high. And they went to take my pulse and it was... a hundred and four. Whut. So I did deep breathing exercises for ten minutes and it came down to ninety-eight and I donated. Okay so that worked.

I have given blood four or five times before, and I have never, ever suffered any side effects, which has always made me a little sad, since I am a hypochondriac and love to get dizzy and have always dreamed of fainting or something some day. But I'm always perfectly fine, despite the fact that after donating blood I usually bicycle into town for a psych appointment. But Friday all day I was SO DIZZY and I lost all colour in my cheeks, and every time I sat down and then stood up again I would get starbursts in my vision so badly I couldn't see, which typically occurs when I am suffering low blood pressure (which I do have). And I was DIZZY. And I slept three hours in the middle of the day and still was completely exhausted. But I thought hey, whatever, first time for everything, and then I realised I had just walked up the stairs and my pulse was racing at a hundred and twenty-five (Mama took it). WHAT. That is ridiculous. And it finally came down to eighty this evening, but it has generally been really high this weekend, and I'm kind of baffled.

DIAGNOSE ME, INTERNETS.

In other news, we baked cookies and made a cake and dyed eggs and had hysterics, it was beautiful. Mama tried to put neatsfoot oil in the egg dye instead of vinegar, and the cookies swelled up into gigantic balloons of crazy, and the cake was one of those ones where you bake two halves and then glue them together with icing, and it kept trying to split down the middle, and it is so full of toothpicks right now that if someone unsuspectingly bites into it an unpleasant and pointy surprise will be waiting. But we decorated the church with hyacinth and forsythia and daffodils and narcissus and little orange tulips and those giant easter lillies, and phlox and warm wishes and lots of ribbon from my collection. Holy Saturday is my favourite day of Easter Week, I think. There is so much preparation to be done. The first Holy Saturday would have been such a day of mourning, a terrible quiet day after the most important thing had died and there was only silence and the great pervasive realisation of loss, but in this day and age, when we know Easter will come to-morrow, it has transformed from a day of grief to a day of anticipation, and we make bouquets and beautiful food and prepare ourselves for the joyous thing we'll be waking to. We wash each other on Maundy Thursday, we grieve on Good Friday, and on Holy Saturday we prepare--and then Easter comes and we have our arms full of the sum of all our hope. All of the days are important, but I really do love Holy Saturday so much.

I'm early, so I won't say Alleluia yet, but--Christ is coming.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Hear that Meta?)
The Last Temptation of Christ is the most homoerotic portrait of Jesus I have ever seen. Holy Jesus/Judas, Batman! (THEY MAKE OUT. I AM NOT KIDDING.)

And, uh, since I'm supposed to be actually watching it, here in class, I should probably get off the computer and focus. Oh, man, I'm already tired, though. It is so psychedelic and wild.

(Awww, Jesus' mother showed up at his crucifixion, even though he totally sucked and told her she wasn't his mother any more and made her cry. <3 Mary.)

(Also, blood does not really spurt that way. I happen to know it doesn't, I punctured my foot yesterday, and it drips and pools, so don't you start with me with all this SPLURT nonsense.)
psalm_onethirtyone: (HEE!)
So, I know that while I am basically the most awesome thing ever to happen to my flist, sometimes, in a crisis of faith, some of you sit back at your computers and say to yourselves, "Can Soujin sustain her level of awesome? Is she even truly as awesome as I thought?" You can now live in mental security, because I am about to assure you that yes, I am.

Maria and I went down to the creek to-day to walk across it because it was frozen.

(You can already see where this is going.)

Ice is sharp. Added bonus: I was wearing a silk skirt, which FROZE SOLID while it was billowing, leaving me to continue our walk for another half an hour in what was essentially an icy ripple of ballgown hemline. ADDED BONUS: Yes, I continued the walk, despite the fact that there was blood running down my leg. TRIPLE BONUS FOR THE WIN: we decided to get off the creek and shortcut across the triangular bottom to the bridge, whereupon I fell through a GROUNDHOG HOLE up to my thigh and yes. Special day.

(Not to mention the fact that about five days earlier, while at [livejournal.com profile] mhari's house, I SET MYSELF ON FIRE.

God, I love my life.)

Yeah. I take my offerings in the form of cake and sheep. Don't burn first!

p.s. I hated Independence Day. Good GOD how many tropes were in that film? Also, everyone was a jerk. The one kid was cute, though.
psalm_onethirtyone: (O RLY?)
I GOT MY HEAD SAT ON BY A RUGBY PLAYER. AND ONE ALSO FELL ON MY RIBS. AND MY LITTLE TOE IS PARTIALLY OFF.

GOD, I FEEL ALIVE.

AND CONCUSSED. I THINK I SHALL LIE DOWN NOW.

OW OW OW.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Try Again To-morrow)
Okay, seriously? I don't think there's anywhere I'm not bleeding. OH COLLEGE. I GIVE UP. I thought the worst things I would have to deal with were going to be mental, but it turns out I was WRONG.

...which is code for 'Soujin Is About To Go On Medical Leave'.

'And Miss The One Day This Week When There Is No Class'.

mmmph.

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January 2012

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