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It's so cool, and everything's happening so fast, and I'm hopping from here to there to another place every couple of days, it's overwhelming in a good way. I spent four days in London, two in Amsterdam, and now I'm in Paris for 26 hours or so, until my overnight train to Madrid, which leaves at 11 tonight.
I kind of love Paris. The Metro looks like brains and there are no helpful arrow like in London, but whatever, I have a day pass so I can get on and off and swear then get back on again... as many times as I want! It's airy and the streets are wide, and it's about 90 degrees and blazingly sunny.
Amsterdam was okay. I actually like the smell of marijuana, even if I've never properly smoked it, so the smell hovering in the air was nice. But the whole stoner culture is just not my thing, and the architecture was kind of cutesy. It looked like how an old aunt with 16 cats and no social life would design a town, y'know? Too many doilies.
That's not to say that Amsterdam's BAD. It's lovely! Just not my scene. London was nice, though a bit grim. My favorite part was how everywhere was history and culture. Like, my sister and I were just walking around, and we managed to mostly accidentally find all the big sights. London Eye, Tower of London, Paddington Square and Tate Galleries, all neato.
While I'm in Paris I'm actually avoiding the museums. I'm sure the Louvre is just keen, but there's only so long I want to stand in line, and you can't see anything real in a museum. Well, you can. But I like riding the metro and people-watching more. Noshing croissants and sipping fanta so I don't get dehydrated in this sunshine.
It's so sunny! 90 and a bit humid, which is a bit much, but it's glorious after that depressing excuse for a summer we've had back home. London was dreary as well, but Paris? Ooh la-la!
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I spent this weekend at the forest-encircled home of one of my most wonderful friends. Every year she has this BIG old shindig, with loads of people, and we all camp on her family's land for one night, sit around a fire, play guitars on the porch, meet new cool people, and otherwise enjoy ourselves. Good, clean fun. The friendy groups can be summarized into three main categories: Pagans, From Her College People, and From Her Old Town People. And it's cool, because you meet all sorts of people with whom you'd never generally associate.
So imagine my surprise when, along with one of the Pagans, in walks in Matthew Blue-eyes from my high school! I know there aren't many of my high school co-alums here, and so this news is less shocking, but Matt left us in my junior year, pretty much never to be seen again, and seeing him was really, REALLY out of left field.
You know that feeling when you look at somebody and they look SO familiar, but you're too nervous to say anything? If it had been anywhere but Rites or this party, I wouldn't have said anything. I would've stared at him out of the corner of my eye, and gone home thinking about the guy who looked unnervingly like Matt.
But I didn't, and when he looked at me and I looked at him, both of our eyes were like cross-sections of hard-boiled ostrich egg, only eyes. So we hugged, reminisced a bit, shared the 'where's your life at' conversation, and went back to our vegetarian pasta bake. Surreal.
And now I have a neurologist appointment. Somehow they shoehorned me in during the month that he supposedly takes off for vacation. Wish me happy brains!
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The wheels are turning on the China work stuff- I signed and sent over my contract for a year's teaching yesterday. Oh boy! But when I looked for my passport (I'll need it to get my visa), I couldn't find it. Oh shit!
In other news... let's hear it for the rain!
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So I finally got a hold of my neurologist's head nurse. I got some answers: the reason I never got called with my brain test results is that they don't usually call anyone with test results. And my results? Exactly the same as they were three years ago.
The same, complete with unusual activity in the twitchy part of my brain, which means more medication for the forseeable future. So I finally got a hold of someone, and it turns out that it really didn't help. Still fucked up. Bring on the pills.
I just... I hoped so hard, I kind of thought that it was already reality. Turns out hoping really doesn't fix everything.
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Home again after a big gallumph.
I had big funs out with my farm friend-family. I also got bitten by their potbellied big, who goes by Pablo. Kind of xenophobic, and instead of ignoring me while he went from his crate to the yarn, he went into the living room one day and bit me while I was preoccupied. Didn't break the skin or anything, but I do have a lovely pig-bite bruise on my leg now. Getting bitten by Pablo is kind of a rite of passage, though. Everyone who visits or lives with him for any length of time gets bit.
In terms of big yarnie geekness, I spun a whole ball of nice yarn, and two weird little ones. I got a great deal better this week, just with all the practice, so I'll see if I can procure more roving. Preferably for free. Maybe I'll shave someone's sheepdog. They have long, floofy hair, right? So they're totally possible. I tried a spinning wheel, but it was apparently the hardest kind of wheel in the world- they didn't know this before they bought it- so I kind of failed. I got a wee tiny bit, then went back to my drop spindle.
And after a truly stinktastic ride back, in a bus that smelled like the chemical cleaners they use on porta-potties, I'm home. Shopping and trip prep galore, before the new adventures. The excitement for China is setting in: I'm getting psyched. I can so totally do this. I dunno how, but I can and I will and I will come out on top. Totally.
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Got the last of my grades back, and I haven't failed anything! I didn't really think I was going to, but I wasn't about to get too cocky and jinx myself. But in the class I was most worried about, I got an A-. Weird! And next year, I'm going to be on the other side of the desk. I'm trying to wrap my head around this, and it's not working, so for now I'm living in the short-term. Get ready for this weekend (Oh Jesus), then get ready for next week (which cannot come fast enough- just send me to the pagans, please!). I keep thinking about the details of Rites; mostly I'm pondering my costume for one event. They encourage animal spirits, and a Primordial Cave of Dreams. This sounds a bit silly. But the animal spirit thing has me thinking, and I've been thinking ever since finals ended. What to wear? (Oh, now I sound like a ditz. But it's spiritual, really!)
Then the summer, possibly a bit of globetrotting before I settle down in my new strange land. I cannot wait to be back in China... It's the job bit that has me spooked.


Mar. 17th, 2009 07:54 am
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I found out yesterday that my sister thinks I'm cool. She and my mom were talking about me, apparently, and how I always come up with wild plans and crazy ideas. And my sister says, 'The difference is, she actually does them.' And that, from my sister, is quite the compliment. I totally admire my sister. She's 19, but she's got an apartment, a boyfriend, a job, pets, and a real-person life! She's got it all set up, and she's only 19. That's brave. It took courage to not go to college, especially when almost everyone she went to school with was going. And after dropping out, she went independent in this big, wide world. Wow! My sister is the ballsiest, most adventurous person ever. I totally admire her, and now I find out that she admires me too. It's a very nice feeling.
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liviconnor: Zoe roar (Default)
And it went really well!
I was looking on that 'happy queer people' lj community that richips put up (thanks, btw!), and after seeing so many positive reinforcements of what it means to be queer/different, I decided that NOW was the time to let one of my favorite people know. So I called her up, talked a bit, and told her. She wasn't that surprised; as she said, she had suspected that I was 'experimenting with lesbianism.' So I tried to tell her that it wasn't so much an experiment as an identity, and that it was bisexuality. I think she gets it, and she said that as long as I am happy in my identity, she's happy too.
I love my grandma. So very much, like whoa.
So we talked a bit about her college years, and my college years, and at the end I told her I loved her. All night I walked about with a smile on my face.
Because I have the best grandmother in the entire world, and now I have nothing to hide. It feels really good.
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It is officially Too Cold.
My snot freezes inside my nose when I go outside. My scarf gets ice on it from the water in my breath where it's wrapped around my mouth and nose. There was ice on the INside of my window this morning. Even the snow's texture changes when it's like this.
The upside is that I feel completely legitimate when I curse the weather. Putting on all the necessary layers is sort of a group ritual before and after every class. I am no longer the only person who looks like a marshmallow. And in any case, I'd rather it be -17 than 17, I think. Rough on the heating bills, though. But this weekend, I'm going home.
To play Star Trek.
Yes, I am a nerd. (But a happy one!)
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I'm knitting a vulva!
It's all fuzzy and cuddly- woohoo!
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Restless, static energy, frustrated. All I want to do is do SOMETHING but nothing's happening. I'm halfway through every one of my projects and I need that release of having something done, but I just can't and I'm ready to go insane.
And it's miserable out, so I can't really go anywhere. If we had a club worth going to I'd maybe go there, to zone out with loud music and heavy beat. But there's nothing I know of, and instead I turn on my metal/grrr playlist and rant about it on livejournal.
EDIT: several pushups/crunches/lunges/whatevers later, I feel a bit more sane.
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First Vicky (who's actually going back today), and next Dad and Mo, who are arriving tomorrow. So I'm entering the frantic "must clean, wash dishes, sweep floor and what IS that under your desk" state of being. I'm going to spend the entire day scrubbing, laundering, and putting stuff away in mysterious places that I'll never remember again.
I joined a choir, and we're going to sound lovely. The girl standing next to me had an incredible voice, and she knew how to sightread and everything... and I don't. I'm such a n00b in chorusy stuff. But the chorus teacher said that was okay, and I'm really excited about what we're doing, so what could be better than blind enthusiasm and no experience?
Well, aside from the obvious.
I've got something I love just about every day of the week. Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays are all gay stuff, Thursdays are clay (hooray!), and Fridays have Chinese tea parties. This semester is chock-full of extracurriculars, and I've already got so much stuff going on... mostly because Vicky's moving to Burlington. To a house only a few blocks away, and she's got a job and it's all happened in just the last 48 hours and I'm still a it bowled over by so much, so fast.
And the first thing I said when I heard that Heath Ledger died was, "But he's too beautiful to die!"
Does that make me a bad person?
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That was a howl, in case you couldn't tell.
This morning is definedly ungood, despite all influence to the contrary. First thing this morning I discover that I've sent a rather embarrassing email TO THE ENTIRE LGBTQA LISTSERVE, instead of to just one person on it. To one person, I'd just have a guilty grin and send it. Sending it to just about everyone I know? I want to curl up and never show my face on campus again. Particularly because I am one of those people who gets anal-retentive about other folks mass-emailing me.
And then, I get the long-awaited package from home. My dad was going to send me my jeans and my sneakers, and I was reeeealy looking forward to it... so when it arrived I was surprised to see how small it was. Not nearly big enough for my sneakers to fit into. And then it turns out that my dad mailed me the wrong jeans, and they don't even fit and I am unreasonably disappointed by this. So not only am I writing in humiliation, but I don't even get to do it in my favorite pants.
And Vicky's up to visit, which is good, but my roommate keeps catching us naked (asleep) in bed, which is awkward. Well, at least there's usually a blanket over.
Hence the howl.
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So I haven't updated in a month... this might be a record!
I went to Ecuador, and it was just plain neat-o but I really have no idea what to say about it. It kind of sucked, but there were good parts in there too. But if you want my honest advice, I'm going to say that one should really just avoid Ecuador unless you really like being damp and sort of smelly and/or out of breath from elevation and tediously high and cold mountains. And being filthy.
The scenery's incredible though. Insanely large mountains, drippy green rainforests, hot springs, little windy roads and waterfalls all over the place. Then once you pass the tree line everything turns beige and gray and tannish-green, and at least where I was there were large numbers of cows. I got to milk a cow one day, but I was rather bad at it. My host 'mother' could milk a cow like no other, though chances are she's been milking since she was nine, like her children. And then later a calf started sucking on my fingers, as calves are wont to do, until I had cow-slobber (a truly viscous substance) all over my hand. Very cute and very slimy to wash off in the river. Actually, I'm not sure if the river was any cleaner than the cow slobber, just less goopy.
We had to share rooms for most of the trip, which really wasn't a problem. For all but the last two nights I managed to pair up with the studious (read: sober) members of the group, and so got plenty of uninterrupted sleep. Our professor got us up at 6am each morning, and after a long day of whatever the heck he thought would be educational we were all fast asleep by 11, if not by 8.
Back at school, and really nothing's happened. Went to class, came back, did big piles of research because my Ecuador class isn't done until we hand in our 8-10 pg research paper. Oy.
But Vicky's coming Northwards, so that's a good thing. Happy MLK day everybody!
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Got home. Everything's still on spin cycle. I got up, did the morning stuff, then didn't stop doing stuff until... five minutes ago. It's exhausting, really, but what's a girl to do?
Christmas/Yule shopping's still not happening, but maybe tomorrow morning's the day, maybe tomorrow night. the afternoon's Grandmother Time.
I'm still fried out over finals. It was hell, and it's going to take a long time to work those stress-tense muscles in my neck out.
I adopted some of my sister's flannel shirts, and they are worn, fuzzy and wonderful.
I heart my family, however nuts we all are. Our Yule tree looks like it was decorated by half-blind, overstimulated baboons. It's so awesome.
liviconnor: Zoe roar (Arwen Evenstar)
I finished my finals.
I'm exhausted. I feel dead, or like a squeezed-out rolled-up tube of toothpaste.
Take shit, apply to fan.
Rinse and repeat, until finals are over.
This week has sucked.
liviconnor: Zoe roar (tea leaves)
So I called my dad right after I handed in my Chinese Religion final papers (plural), and was all "SoIfinishedmyfinalanditwasreallyhardbutnow Im'doneandIonlyhavetwomorepapersandanexam and Weeeeeeeeeee!" And now my Dad thinks I'm a nut, because I get adrenaline highs from writing and handing in final papers. Oh well. And now I'm about to scream from frustration because not only am I procrastinating still, but that stupid boy of mine is still not responding. And I have two papers due today, though one's only like one page long, and the other's 3-6 pages, but that's really hard to do in Spanish when you're doing motherfucking literary analysis, which I hate. Die fucking Literature. Die in a fire.
I butched up last night. I gave myself a faux-hawk with my sister's gel, bound my chest, and dressed all grr/masculine. I haven't done that since I came back from China... I really like it, though. Being all grr/arrgh. Looking like I fix cars and drink beer with my other butch lesbian friends on the weekends, instead of sitting in my room and reading/being a geek.
It's guising. Taking on another persona.
Like Halloween.
Fuck. I have essays.
(EDIT: I definitely meant to say butch, not bitch)
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I am such a geek. But I'm a happy geek!
I had my 800字 Chinese final today- memorize an essay you wrote earlier in the year, and then write it down from your smart little brain. That's your final. Erm, that is, that's my final. I think I did well! I remembered most of it, and even noticed several places where I was writing the corrections that she'd made on my initial copy, and only had to make up about a seventh of it. Yay!
So then I took my notes next door to the GLBTQA building, to type up my Religion of China essays- two of them. One I'd already mostly written, the other not really written but extensively note-taken. And now I'm done! Hooray!
So I went out of there dancing and skipping, literally, because I only had two more essays and one exam, and none of them are today. I handed it in to my professor's Big Yellow Envelope, picked up my last essay, and called my dad to share the joy.
That's when I realized how high I was... on sheer nerves. I swear, I could feel myself relaxing as I talked to him, and I could hardly talk from the sheer "Whew!" of it all.
So yes. Two essays down, two exams. Two more essays, one more exam. One per day. I can do this.
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