psalm_onethirtyone: (The Perfect Pool)
Got my Yuletide assignment yesterday. It's pretty cool and I think there is a lot of potential in it, and I think I also can do a good job with it -- certain elements of it weird me out, but the prompter gave me a lot to work with so I think I leave some things out while still giving them what they want. So I am excited!

I go home to-day for Thanksgiving, so I'll be scarce for the next week.


A presenter in my cog psych class used this page about art by autistic people in his presentation, and I thought that was pretty neat, so here is the link. It is pretty cool from both an art and a mental shenanigans standpoint. (I also ended up talking about the gender issues surrounding autism with the professor after class, which was pretty neat -- she agreed with [ profile] mhari and said that autism is generally viewed as a "boy's disorder" and not something girls are supposed to get.)

Octopodes can go on land and that is totally awesome. Plus also super cute.

Although we already knew that, Ann Coulter is a maniac and I don't understaaaand, Jesus. I don't want to live on this planet any more? Liz said I should move to Canada, but I feel it is my duty to model sane Christianity for people in America.

I am currently using this programme to try and manage my issues with computer light = migraines; I've only had it downloaded for a day, so I haven't got a real clear idea of how well it works yet, but it's an interesting idea.

This tumblr exists and it is pretty pro -- Ugly Renaissance Babies.

A really interesting essay/article on why "born this way" is a bad argument for queerness.

This guy is my hero -- a devout Muslim whose faith led him to try to save the man who shot him. I heard an interview with him on NPR on Sunday -- he was really incredible. Warning: Article contains pictures of headshot.

For your webcomic organising needs, piperka is a great site for tracking updates and keeping stuff neat.

Finally, when you have just delivered a good Caruso zinger, the instant CSI. Yeahhhhh!
psalm_onethirtyone: (Not Me! Erro ero)
Braxtonisms of the semester so far:

On America's scale of political career-death: "Gay is wormy. If you're an atheist, you're sub-wormy."

"We don't mean bad in a judgmental, negative sense. We mean bad in a nice way."

"If you can't think of a response, just say reproduction. It's always right."

On gossip: "He can benchpress like 900 pounds, he must take calcium supplements or something."

More selections from Religion and War: )
psalm_onethirtyone: (Not Me! Erro ero)
Once upon a time I told [ profile] nowgoesquickly that one of the reasons I don't usually find horror films scary is that things happen on the farm that are sufficiently horrible as to eclipse monster sharks and squishy aliens.

So to-day we went down to feed the pigs and chickens and turkeys. They were all busy being adorable -- we have seven, count 'em, seven little jakes and they are super friendly -- and the chickens, which are adolescents and so fairly cute still and very fluffy, were scooting around making funny noises, and the pigs were playing in their water. Mama and Maria were scritching Grace behind the ears, and she fell over, which she always does when you scritch her.

We were remarking on the delicacy of their faces, and how pretty and wide their ears are, and their big eyes and long eyelashes and long red hair. I was actually starting to feel kind of bad about the fact that we'll slaughter them in November.

And then Mama said, "Oh, my God."

Maria and I looked.

"Oh fuck," I said, before I could stop myself. I glanced over at Mama to see if I was going to get a Look for swearing, but she was still staring in horror.

"But where's the other--?" said Maria.

We scanned the pig enclosure quickly. There it was, among the tomatoes we'd thrown in for the pigs to eat.

"Oh fuck," I squeaked.

"Oh, God," Mama said, poking in the mud and straw with a stick. There was a reddish clump of something that used to be golden.

Just then Darius, the boar, started to root. There was a cracking of bones as he grabbed the disembodied leg -- pallid and limp, drained of blood -- nearest to us and started to chew it up and devour it.

The buff Orphington cockerel is no more.

He climbed into the pig pen to steal some of their grain and they ate him.

Suddenly I am a lot more comfortable with their approaching execution. They do not look quite as cute as they used to.

Also, yesterday I had to empty another turkey nest full of dead eggs. >_> She had ten, and every single one had a stillborn poult inside. She is still sitting on the empty nest. I also found a hen brooding a clutch up in the hill pasture by the horse trailer, but hers appear to be reasonably healthy eggs and also she bit me very hard when I was checking them, so my plan is to leave her alone. A third hen hatched a clutch of six in the dry streambed beside the barn while we were on vacation, so perhaps this one can be competent.

Also also, the adolescent guineas learned to fly to-day! :D When I last checked, they were all up on the outhouse roof, while the adolescent poults stood around the bottom going "D: but we wanna go up there toooooo".

Maggie ate a groundhog. She dashed into the buffer by the Mahantango, grabbed it by the neck, and shook it till it was dead. It kept whining and screaming.

Horror films. Pffffft.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Not Me! Erro ero)
Despite the fact that I SWEAR it is for a legitimate project, there are few things more awkward than trying to download pictures of nekkid men while volunteering at the library.

...Of course, once I broke down and admitted what I was doing, and why, everyone pitched in to help. I have never seen so much enthusiasm over one of my terrible art missions before.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Not Me! Erro ero)
So... yeah. I's responsible this. I don't know, some days are odder than others.

Also, in an attempt to do something wholesome with my day, I did finish the owl I was making for my roommate, and Jen's house sparrow. Now I just need to do a dark-eyed junco for Dani and I'll be done with the mf'ing birds. I hate doing birds. They never come out the way I want. >_> Then I can start the bunny for Mama, which I think will be much less stressful.

But yeah. Were-blobfish, romance novel, idek.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Not Me! Erro ero)
It wouldn't be a true clusterfuck of a week without something else going wrong, and on that note I went home early from my client yesterday with acute gastritis. :D! Which was okay, in terms of her care, because she went to the hospital! Yeah. But she's home to-day, and I'm supposed to see her, only I feel not great, so I am waiting for Mama to get home with medicine and then I'm going in for part of my shift, because there's no one else to see her and my guilt and responsibility complexes know no bounds. THIS IS HOW I ROLL.

A partial shift shouldn't be so bad. It'll only be five and a half hours, and the toughest part is driving, with the pain, which is what the medicine is for. ...sigh, what is my life.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Body Dysmorphia is a Cliche)
Soooo at my one client's house the t.v. was on, and there was an ad going for some weight-loss programme. It started out fairly inoffensively: middle-aged, stocky woman going "yay now I am not quite as heavy I can do more!" which is a reasonable approach, really; and the fact that she wasn't skinny made it seem much more like a "I'm just wanting to be healthier, this isn't about the beauty standard" kind of thing. So far so good.

And then the last line of the commercial is her saying "Thank you [name of product] for letting me be pretty one last time".

What. the actual fuck.

So yeah, I thought you all might like to know what's wrong with the world.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Disappointed)
So I'm sure everyone is desperately interested in hearing the continuation of the Saga of the Insurance Company from Hell (yes, you are).

Yesterday my doctor told me that she had called the insurance company again and faxed them being all URGENT URGENT MY PATIENT IS DYING PLZ SEND HER HER MEDS, and she assured me, when I phoned, that they had told her I would be authorised to have them within twenty-four hours. So this morning I ran to the pharmacy, because I'm out again.

Where the pharmacist told me, as nicely as possible, that the insurance company had NOT authorised my scrip and everyone was now out for the weekend, so it was unlikely I would be authorised until Tuesday. He also suggested that I call the insurance company and grovel to them on Tuesday. In the meantime, I could buy some meds out of pocket.

Now, because the pill I'm taking does not come in 225 mg caps, which is the dose I take, I have to take three 75 mg caps every day. Which means in order to get by until Tuesday, I had to buy twelve caps instead of four. And because Mama is broke right now, I paid for them with my birthday money. ;___; Which is just a minor complaint, honestly, because at least I have money, but I am whinging because I wanted to get art supplies with it.

So my plan is to call the insurance company on Tuesday. Yayyy! In the meantime, I have incredibly expensive medication, and a twelve-hour shift at work to-morrow.

On the PLUS SIDE, Maria and Mama and I went clothes shopping to-day and I managed to find two pairs of jeans that fit, as well as a really cute denim skirt and even a pair of shorts (which is disguised to look like a skirt, which suits me just fine). Which is great, since usually the fact that I am shaped exactly like a hobbit makes clothes shopping a fairly traumatic experience. I also made cupcakes for a party to-morrow that I will not get to go to, but they turned out really nicely! Even though I burnt my hands, bleh.

Yeah. If it weren't for this insurance thing, my life would be going pretty nicely overall.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Try Again To-morrow)
Dear My Insurance Company:

Congratulations! You have proved your sagacity. The fact that I have taken the same medication every day for the last four years might convince a lesser mind that I actually need it, but you in your wisdom have seen through that ruse. As you have guessed, my medication is purely an extraneous expense that I continue to pay monthly in the hopes of making you, too, suffer the associated financial loss.

Someone else might just accept that since three different doctors have signed off on its necessity said medicine might just as well be purchased, but you, Insurance Company, understand that action is called for in these situations. That is why you have taken the bold step of cutting me off.

It is now my third day without medication, but I am still alive, proving beyond a doubt that I do not need it to survive. The symptoms of nausea, vertigo, migraine, and increased weeping are merely psychosomatic effects of withdrawal that will soon fade. Despite the fact that my job involves protracted stretches of car travel, I am sure that I will not endanger myself or anyone else by driving while dizzy. Within a few weeks, everything should be fine, and it will be obvious that you have made the right decision.

Or I'll be dead, I guess.

Thank you for your prompt and thoughtful actions!

Very little love,

Dear Pharmacy Man:

Thank you for fronting me two days' worth of my meds. ;___; I feel a bit less like I'm going to die now. You are a good man.

psalm_onethirtyone: (Found Myself!)
I'm beginning to feel tentatively more optimistic, although the last few weeks have made me somewhat cautious of that feeling and my brain doesn't exactly know if it should relax yet (answer: NO. NEVER RELAX).

My schedule for senior year had me in a complete panic, but then I thought, "Look, every time I see my advisor, not only does he treat me like a person who has just as much likelihood of having a life and career as someone without a mental illness, he also tends to have an excellent objective perspective and is really good at sorting out the tangles I wind myself into". So I met with him to-day, and lo and behold in an hour he had neatly pointed out the problems I created and helped me fix them. The only thing we couldn't do was find the final upper-level credit required for me to graduate, and he solved that by creating an independent study just for me. It just so happens to be something he's fascinated by and wants to study more, too. :D :D :D

Something that I just-- I don't even know how to word it, but it makes me feel so calm and secure when I'm explaining a problem to him, because people tend to tell me, "Look, you can be someone, but first you have to be well," and that panics me, because I'm not sure that I ever will be. Inevitably, he acts like it doesn't matter if I'm sick or well--the only issue is finding ways to make life make concessions to my illness, and not vice-versa. And that is just so unbelievably reassuring to me that I can't believe it. He makes me feel like no matter what, the things I want to do are possible.

Anxiety too bad to let you go abroad for a semester? Easy! Go abroad on a shorter, two-week, class trip with a professor and students you already know. You get the abroad experience and you'll have a responsible adult to help you do self-checks mentally.

Not possible to take an extra semester to graduate? Easy! Drop this course and this course, you don't actually need them, sub in this one-credit course, and I'll make you an independent study! Good to go.

Might have to take some time off to go to the hospital? Easy! Be here when you get back.

He just does this, and I don't feel like I'm imposing because he always acts like it's totally a normal part of the trajectory of life and there's nothing out of the ordinary about any of these things, and it just absolutely kills me. But in a good way. Having this man for an advisor was one of the best choices I ever made here, for sure.

In other news, I slept over with [ profile] the_chloroplast and [ profile] skyerana last night, and it was really nice. We watched bad films and Arielle played Prince of Persia and made fun of it hilariously. Also, Liz asked me to dinner to-night; and I had an hour and a half long talk on Skype with Jen. I am still feeling really ginger around my friends, and fairly nervous, but they are really great friends, and I'm really fortunate, and I hope that will help me to relax soon.

Also, I am going to kidnap [ profile] raanve and steal her away from her husband. She doesn't know this, but I am.

(I have two papers to write, but I also owe [ profile] eremon_lass Percy/Gawain. I WONDER WHICH ONE GETS DONE TO-NIGHT.)
psalm_onethirtyone: (O RLY?)

/dies of excitement for-ever
psalm_onethirtyone: (Hear that Meta?)
So unfortunately last night I got one of the worst migraines I have ever had, which might not have been quite as big a deal except that the girl next door's friend (a mutual friend, as it happens) was breaking up with his boyfriend, drunkenly, over the phone, from midnight until two a.m. when I stumbled over bleary-eyed and knocked on the door. The first thing I heard was, "Oh God, it's Soujin," but before I could flee he opened the door.

Him: AHHH I knew it was you I'm SO SORRY. ;____; *GIANT HUG*
Me: I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I know that you're having a really important conversation!
Him: I'm SORRY. I'm a terrible person!
Me: No you're not! I'm sorry!
Her: Yeah, we're mediating a break-up.
Me: ;____; I know, I'm sorry.
Her: Wait, you know?
Me: Aaaaaaahhh I'm so sorry.
Her: You can hear that much detail?
Me: SORRY ;___________;
Her: Did you know it's about cheating?
Me: ;____;
Her: Oh, my God.
Me: I'm so sorry I'm so sorry I wouldn't have said anything but I have a migraine and right now I want to rip my optic nerve right out of my head--
Her: Oh, my God. Go back to bed, I'll make him shut up.
Me: Ahhhhhh sorry!

After that it was a bit quieter, though. And I suppose this has gotten around the worrisome question of whether or not to tell her I can hear her having sex.

Anyway, I lay there for the rest of the night wondering whether the best solution was to take my razor and carve my eyeball out, or whether shooting myself in the face would be more effective. It's dulled some, but it still hasn't really gone away. Apparently the magnesium really did do something. Sigh.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Found Myself!)
HELLO poetry class has robbed my soul but here is some of my nonsense:

The Stone of Bitterness )


A Bad Poem )


One night while we were drinking... )


When he's in his cups he pulls her into his lap... )


Right now I am redrafting a poem about black holes (assignment: LINE BREAKS) and have yet to start on the assignment about toxic shock syndrome. :D the exciting news is that Dr. Goldstein, who teaches the class, asked if I would like to do independent study with him next year. He said he thought I was one of the best students in the class. I just about died. I really want to say yes, but it's totally irrelevant to my major. Can I justify this? Sigh.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Gross Things are Cool!)
It is so typical. Some super cute Minnow boy bicycles by and smiles at you and waves, and there you are, holding the body of a smushed guinea by the feet, its head dripping blood on the pavement, and its intestines trying to sneak out by using your dress as a ladder. >_>

I buried it in the orchard, and good riddance.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Nay Nor Woman Neither)
As I was getting off the train at Philly station, the dude behind me started spraying on cologne. Note that this dude was enormous--and by enormous I do not mean fat, I mean Hagrid--and getting down luggage for all the girls on the train. Then he leans over to me and says,

"Hey, sweetheart, do you have a boyfriend?"

And I couldn't help it. I just burst out laughing. Like, I don't know, I suppose I should have been slightly scared that this enormous be-cologned dude was hitting on me, but it just struck me as hilarious somehow.

Anyway, I said, "No, but I have a girlfriend."

He looks at the girl just past me and goes, "You too?" and she gives this kind of terrified nod (I don't think she heard all of what was going on), and he goes, "Awww, man."

So, uh, idk. XD

Also, I watched Cairo Time finally on the train. Omg it was so great. ;____; And made me wibble all over the place. Also, Alexander Siddig remains really goddamn hot and also incredibly funny and expressive--I laughed out loud a couple of times. It was superb. Except that there was not any making out, and I felt somewhat cheated, especially because Mr. Siddig and his romance kept going past what I like to call Soujin's Nose-Proximity Kiss Ratio, which says that the closer the noses of two characters in a film become the more likely it is that they are going to kiss. Mr. Siddig and Ms. Clarkson's noses were totally past the necessary proximity for kissing a whole bunch of times, and they never actually kissed.

Also, God, I had forgotten how long he is. He has to fold himself up in order to fit in, like, normal chairs. It's hilarious. He's so lanky and tall and ridiculous and has such great crinkles around his eyes gahhh. And his accent is to die for.

I seriously should be married to this man.

I board in about a half hour, and then it's seven hours to Medway! :P Luckily I packed more films and some books and I have fic to write, so I should be able to stay un-bored-to-death.
psalm_onethirtyone: (Not Me! Erro ero)

So Firefox kind of exploded. I can't open it any more. When I try, it gives me some kind of error message that is literally three-quarters off the screen and all that's showing is the button you can click to make it go away, so I have no idea what it actually says. I can't find a keyboard command to drag it.

When I click the button, Firefox kind of opens, but it's a blank page and the toolbar (File Edit View History &c) doesn't show up, so all I can do is close it.

What is going on? ;______; Help I have no clue what this is. Any ideas?

Edit: I fixed it! I am keeping my fingers crossed and knocking on wood in case this is a lie, but I just got back from my anthro exam and forced it to work. Now I can stop hyperventilating into a bag! Yay!
psalm_onethirtyone: (Everyone is Fond of Owls)
So yesterday afternoon when I went to get my bike there was a clump of reeds, grass, and sticks vaguely resembling a bird's nest in the basket. I assumed that someone had just stuck it there, since I've had a problem with kind of random vandalism this semester. I just left it there because I was in a hurry, and it mostly melted in the rain.

This morning when I came down to get my bike the nest was rebuilt into a perfect nest shape and there was a bird in it. It flew away when I came closer.

I took the nest and put it in a tree nearby, but I feel kind of guilty. My bike basket is the perfect place, since I park it under the overhang, so it's out of the rain and elements; also the basket supports the nest well. Moreover the sidewalk near the overhang is prime worm suicide ground whenever it rains. I almost want to leave it there, but then the poor bird would be in trouble when semester ends and I took my bike away. >_> But yeah. Random bird's nest! That is my fun story for the day!

Also, I am still sick, but a little less dead, thanks to Health and Wellness filling my pockets with various medicines. Doesn't mean I'm not going to sulk like a five-year-old, though. I really need a good night's sleep, but that's not likely to happen.
psalm_onethirtyone: (God Dammit)
There is a LOT of healthy white male[1] privilege happening in my philosophy class right now. Like, a LOT. I'm starting to feel a little squicky.

Seriously, one of the guys just said that Darwin would endorse removing black people from the gene pool because their IQs aren't as high as those of white people. And the word 'retard' is getting bandied about quite a lot, as well.

I honestly think that when you start talking about social fitness and social Darwinism and people who 'should' be removed from the gene pool you are edging dangerously close to a certain twentieth century view held by a Very Bad Man.

I kind of want to duct tape a lot of people's mouths shut right now.

[1]none of the girls are talking, they may have healthy white privilege too, don't ask me.
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: (HEE!)
Oh lord. Okay. So the drag show was to-night. The one where I went as Hugh Hefner, and Shawn was a Playboy Bunny?

We won third place. We won third place. It was incredible. I can't describe the experience to you.

But here are a few of the photos I currently have: I did my own makeup. Also, check out my amazingly manly arm hair. It didn't actually show in the final product because my sleeves were buttoned, but. And my hair has Reed Richards stripes because that's what Hef has in some of the pictures. And that pipe is my grandfather's. And to-day is Hugh Hefner's birthday. Or yesterday. Anyway, I hope someone else has photos, especially of our act, because it went so beautifully.

Also, Jen is sleeping in my bed. I wonder if I can get her to make room for me.


psalm_onethirtyone: (Default)

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