Can anyone explain to me, plz, why I never label pictures when I save them? They're all NUMBERS. Why don't I just save them as "Safari Cuddling" so I can FIND THEM when I WANT THEM?
~So today Jeeves and Wooster had their cousins (the Angelas? w/e) over to play in the morning. It was fun. There is honest-to-God nothing I love better in this world than a five-year-old girl who can converse intelligently on the topic of blanket forts. She had a tiny sister, not even two yet, and so small. She's really only a few months younger than Wooster but Wooster is easily the size of a normal 3-yo. It was really nice to pick up someone that small and fragile, you know? My boys are solid. There's something precious about having something so breakable cuddle up under your chin and trust you.

~Although she did manage to get three of her limbs tangled and trapped in the legs of a folding table. Man-oh-man.

~Jeeves also had a SPIKE in his temperature out of frickin' nowhere, right in the middle of lunch prep. There was further threat of puke. I got meds into him and tucked him up on the couch and an hour later it was like nothing had happened. It's always startling and remarkable to me that A) I can make so much difference with just calm caring and B) that it's remarkable to other people. His mom was so grateful and surprised and just...Idk, it's nice to be reminded that actually, I am damn good at what I do. I get all tangled up in the classes I forget to do the readings for and the sheer joy of doing it, but every once in awhile there's a moment where I step back and see what's happening from the outside and realise I can be awesome at this.

~I asked a local mechanic to recommend a bodywork shop and he seems to have sent me to a ratty gyro stand. W/e, he loses his commission. Frightening cost from the place I did eventually find, though.

~I spent five hours getting next semester's schedule worked out (they cancelled both the classes my adviser and I agreed I would need to graduate, so working out alternatives has been the worst nightmare ever and I think I'm as prepared as I'm gonna get, but JEEZ.

~Three more weeks of classes oh great gods of academia please smile down on me.

~Three more weeks till NYC, Rachels and Indian food and Adys and Gretas. O great gods of travel, let it happen. I need the promise right now.
Look, you can't write a math question without sufficient information, give me the option to say "there is not sufficient information here", admit there is not sufficient information, and then mark me down for saying there is not sufficient information.

Except, apparently, you can.

Bitch.

*not crying at all over five stupid points, really*
I realise the reason I can't focus is that I last ate real food at ten in the morning, I just can't spare the half hour it will take me to find food. Grrrrrrrrr.
So one of the nanny agencies I am signed with? They came up with a family almost perfect for me. They live HERE. Which means that I could maybe stick around the summer for my godson to be born and get SPOILED ROTTEN by me. (I am so TORN, y'all. I so badly need money, and would like to try living somewhere that is NOT HERE, especially if it is near people I am dying to meet, but...the BABY. He is coming in July and how can I not be here for that? Of course, this is probably largely moot anyway because nobody has offered me a job.)


So naturally I was very excited and flailed a lot and sent them a very proper and enthusiastic and professional cover letter, targeting the concerns they had named in their listing, etc. etc.


And then I realised my internet had been lying to me about not connecting, so I had in fact sent them my very professional message, uh. Six times. *FACEPALM*


GOOD THINGS:

~Intelligent, good-looking boys who compliment me on my alliteration (literally, how cute is that?)

~Jeeves and I have achieved naptime detente! Also his mum and I have discussed expanding our possibilities for morning activities which is nice.

~Wooster is totally blissed out by his swing.

~I am writing about Shane and Brendon going to Disneyland with the Uries

~Maybe the nice family will forgive me? The nice thing about working for people privately is they are more likely to be forgiving of unprofessionalism like...well, like mine
I am remarkably happy, for a day so filled with disasters. Mostly I feel this says deep and probably unflattering things about how sunk I am in Hermione syndrome.


Item: left for work late, as roommate had parked behind my car again and had to be wakened and made to move her car.

Item: then, LOST ON THE WAY to work, actually arrived twenty-five minutes late, and had forgotten phone so could not tell employer that I was coming

Item: both boys sick (one, nasty cold; one, ear infection; I am thinking they need journal nicks) and therefore cranky, petulant, and unhappy, which last is worst. I hate it when there's nothing I can do to help. Also, this coincided with the two-week "where are the boundaries" period, which is ALWAYS FUN. Not.

Item: in moment of COMPLETE IDIOCY, I was making mac 'n' cheese for their lunch and tested it for tenderness by EATING TWO NOODLES. *facepalm* I have had trace amount encounters--which were bad enough, leaving me tired and achy for a week or two--but haven't actually deliberately eaten gluten in a year and a half; you would not BELIEVE the heartburn, I can't swallow water without wanting to die. I am not looking forward to the next two or three weeks.

Item: today was my Basic English class, which annoys me because, hi, I know what metaphors are and why they are important. (It's req'd, that's why I'm in it.) Also, teacher, you don't start by asking for general impressions; start with the questions you can reasonably expect answers to, and then ask if anybody noticed anything we haven't covered. They are nervous and unsure of themselves! Give them questions they are sure they know how to answer before trying to get them to explore! DUH. Scaffolding, dude. It works with preschoolers; it works with sort-of grownups.



On the other hand, being in a basics course means lots of opportunity to raise my hand and offer an opinion that knocks all but three people out of the water. This is what I mean by Hermione syndrome. I like it even BETTER when there are people of my caliber there to bounce off of--one girl shows promise--but the opportunity to SHARE IDEAS and TALK ABOUT WORDS is always pretty much the best time ever. I like my teacher, actually--he is very amusingly earnest, but he is pulling hard to believe that everybody in our class is intelligent and enthusiastic, and to teach things that interesting, so that's something, at least.


Also, my brilliant-beyond-brilliant baking powder theory has been proven in the case of gluten-free semi-dinner-rolls, so I am smug. And dripping with pomegranate honey.
How does ANYBODY graduate when they cancel ALL THE CLASSES YOU NEED TO GRADUATE?????

So far next semester, I am registered for two classes. And it's not that I was beaten to the punch and the classes are full; it's not that I'm being picky and refusing to take classes I might find boring...either I'm not qualified to take them, or they're not being offered.

GRRRRRRRRRR.


On the other hand, I can pretty much start searching for 9-5 jobs if they'll give me an hour for lunch, because that's ALL I'LL NEED next semester.
So, I figured out where the food poisoning has been coming from--yay!

Apparently two of my enormous projects are due next week and not the week after as I had originally thought--boo!

What I wish more than anything is for it to be possible for me to type papers while sitting in a hot bath, but you know...electricity and water probably aren't all that hot an idea, as a combination.

TIRED OF ACHING.

People should not tempt me to run away to Canada when I have so much to run away from, I am just saying. I DON'T LIKE BEING A GROWN-UP, IT MEANS I HAVE TO SAY NO SOMETIMES.


(I really want to go to Canada, y'all. REALLY REALLY REALLY.)
ITEM: Interesting (just to me, probably) update: I prefer my spice bar-muffins with sweet potato over having them with pumpkin.

ITEM: Starting to worry I actually tore something in my lower back. That's not good, correct?

ITEM: There is a freckled surfer boy in my Storytelling class, and I think we're flirting. He has actual muscles, and enjoys mountain biking. I BLAME SPENCER AND BRENDON, OKAY. It's kind of freaking me out! Not necessarily in a bad way, just in a wow-this-is-new way. I mean, expanding your horizons is awesome and stuff, just...I'm not quite sure what to do with this.

ITEM: Hey, I already have a bunny in my WiP folder that works for my Christmas fic fest assignment! This makes me happy on indecent levels.

ITEM: I have lost the page of the syllabus that tells me my professor's office hours. That CAN'T be good, considering I am doing a really weird project and need to talk it through with her.

ITEM: A lot of people are having a sucky time: HUGS TO YOU, OKAY
Well...shit.

So, hahahah, the construction? Is not just a weekend's project. It's a TWO-WEEK project. TWO. WEEKS.

Which means: A) figuring out the bus system so that there can be groceries in my life, B) figuring out how to get down the mountain next weekend possibly in a stranger's car, C) letting my prospective job know that while I can probably get to a second interview, I can't start for two weeks and possibly LOSING the job, and D)...crying? Probably. Why I'm such a nitwit, there is no explaining.



ETA: How illegal IS IT to drive on someone else's lawn? Is it less illegal if you do it at two in the morning and don't get caught?
For the record, this has been a week of Big Projects and Midterms, about to culminate in my scariest midterm (folklore) and a job interview. I will be glad when it is all over.

JOB INTERVIEW!!! And it would be PERFECT for me, if our schedules are compatible: she has a three-year-old with developmental delays and a six-month-old baby, and she wants somebody to take care of the baby during therapy appointments and to play with both of them while she cleans and stuff. I could do this, I could do this well, I am highly qualified to do this and I JUST HOPE I CAN MAKE IT TO THE INTERVIEW.

The obstacle is that I have no car. Not really, I mean, I have a car, it's just that they are doing something to the entrance to the street where my house is and I can't move the car and use it to drive places. I have a call into a friend, who may be able to drive me, and if not I can take a cab--I hope, anyway--but I am really nervous about none of these backup plans working out.

If there are good vibes out there you're not currently using, sending them toward the cab company would be awesome, thanks.


ETA: THE INTERVIEW WENT AWESOME, Y'ALL!! I got a second interview, which is five pounds of greatness. I COULD HAVE A JOB AND KIDS TO LOVE I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW EXCITED THAT MAKES ME.
Okay, does ANYONE have any suggestions for pulled muscles besides heat and Tylenol? Normally when this happens I have my mother's stash of muscle relaxants to fall back on, but I am at school and also about to cry. Can't sit up, can't stand, can't walk, can't lie down, can't think and I have papers to write!

Is there an over-the-counter remedy any of you would recommend? I've tried rubbing it with massage oil as well as I can--it's kind of an awkward spot--my damn bathtub won't stay full enough to soak and I have no access to an actual hot tub. Are there better or more muscle-specific painkillers? Something not prescription-grade I can take to relax the muscles? A magical fairy I can conjure with a spell?

Help, plz?
I hate how adapting my resume to appeal to offices and retail places means CUTTING MORE THAN HALF OF IT OUT.

I have a very specialized skill set. It's not that part of that skill set isn't transferable--multitasking, organization, communication, etc.--it's just that I have so much MORE to offer a childcare position. There's no point in telling somebody who wants a secretary that I aced my Teaching Art and Music class, for example.

BAH, HUMBUG.
Tonight, I stepped on a two-inch piece of steel and drove it entirely under the surface of my skin so that there was nothing for my tweezers to grab. I couldn't walk--I could barely limp completely on the other side of my foot without going all dizzy and falling over.

There was nowhere to go but the E.R. because nowhere else was OPEN at ten o'clock on a Sunday night (idiocy). I would gladly have gone to anybody with a needle, some basic drugs, a tetanus inoculation, and a scalpel, but to the E.R. I went because, well, I needed to walk and sleep, what with the exam I can't miss tomorrow.

So I drove to the hospital with my left foot, and spent considerable time trying to find the E. R. entrance (mental note: along with needing to find a grocery store, post office, bank when you move to a new town, find the E.R., just to avoid having to search for it through a haze of pain. You idiot.) I am covered in Band-Aids (exaggeration: 2) and wearing a hospital bracelet (not an exaggeration, but an idiocy) and very weary of healthcare in the United States, where there was apparently one doctor in the E.R. for the entire night shift. Which means that the guy ahead of me with a serious injury getting treated first--which is TOTALLY OKAY WITH ME, please do the serious injuries first!--meant I sat in a cold room for four hours in order to have a procedure that took ten minutes, tops, including waiting for the local to kick in.

If I can't walk tomorrow morning I am going to be extremely cranky about it.
See, the plan was: almost-finish packing on Friday, drive down with a carload to babysit younger sibs while parents/oldest younger sib are out of town for a wedding, then come back down and finish packing today. Tonight, my dad was supposed to come up with a borrowed trailer and haul all my crap down the mountain. (Doing this twice a year is, unbelievably, cheaper and less hassle than renting a storage unit, because I live in a tiny college town that knows their principles of supply and demand.)

BUT my dad called on Saturday and was all, "So, business trip. Can't be there till Thursday."


  • The things I took down on my own were clothes, because I could lift them on my own; I still had about half the dresser left to pack. Which means that I currently have available to me: four pairs of pants, six bras, all of my pajamas, and the silk Brazilian things I don't dare wear in public without a) being covered in plastic wrap to protect them and b) the strapless bra that is not among the bras I still have here. And the one shirt I drove back in last night. I'M NOT SMART, OKAY, I FORGOT I WOULD NEED TO WEAR THINGS.

  • OMG. All the classes I want to take are taught in alternate years, and ALL OF THEM are not being taught until the year AFTER next. I ran to my advisor in a panic and I THINK I am going to be okay, but O.M.G. fr srs, IS COLLEGE NEVER GOING TO END???? I was hoping to GRADUATE next spring!!! (That hope is now dead, FYI.)

  • I have no web at home and no real desire to sit here pretending that I am not talking about how adorable Brendon Urie is in the school computer labs, so I will be checking in once a day and probably only commenting v.v.v. occasionally. Most posts that I would jump in and say something encouraging or ask a silly question or whatever I am skipping over--and I'm kind of skimming anyway, may miss something important, so PLEASE e-mail me if you seriously need my attention. I do get e-mail on my phone, so it will be more immediate.

  • I ate all my groceries on purpose, and am now trying to figure out whether I can live on the dry goods I intended to take down and maybe half a gallon of milk. WITHOUT cooking anything, because it was the roommate-who-already-left's job to do the kitchen, and I do not want to have to redo the sparkling job she did.

  • Greta is hanging out w/ Panic in L.A. and I am going to die of joy. HI PRETTY GIRL, I SEE YOU THERE.
At my parents' house for Easter/various extended-fam birthdays, and they STILL. HAVE NOT FIXED. THE FUCKING INTERNET.

I am very, very cranky about it, in case you missed that. This was supposed to be my weekend to relax and reward myself for finishing the Paper of Dooooooom, and work on ETW--which is stored almost entirely on LJ or in GoogleDocs. And I mean, just, in general, flisting, surfing for decent fic, etc. IS MY IDEA OF RELAXING. So, yes. Cranky now.

Also, all of my time was somehow claimed by various members of my family without my input or permission...it's nothing I could really say no to, it's just annoying that I can't.

At the library atm collecting my damn fic material and flisting, though I think I may have missed quite a bit due to skimming. However, whoever posted that pic of Jon and Brendon "on safari" end quote? THANK YOU FOR THAT. I feel sufficiently restored to go on finishing all my mother's heinous errands.

Jon and Brendon, thank you SO MUCH. Just for existing prettily and letting people photograph you at peace. It makes me happy.
Oh, god, y'all, I just turned in the most important paper of the semester with the phrase "BLAHDEBLAH ATTACHMENT" in it.

I'm going to go die, you have a nice weekend.
I am tired and cranky because I went to the bead fair with my mother today, and in some ways it was AWESOME and I found SO MUCH COOL STUFF that I am going to MAKE, some for me and some for other people and some JUST BECAUSE IT IS PRETTY, but in other ways it was bad. Because it meant I spent four hours in the car, and the three in between standing up or fighting my way through crowds. And the crowds were echoey in the room, and the room was big and filled with aisles, and all of those things make the agoraphobia come. No dizziness, but my shoulders tried to climb up my spine again and my whole back/neck/head combo hurt now.

Also, I desperately want to make my hand into a Ryan Ross puppet for [livejournal.com profile] t_usual_suspect's bandom anthem project, but I have no functioning way to record it.

But I mean, think of it! My hand, painted with eyes framed in blue eyeshadow and a scarf and a newsboy cap and all, singing, "I LOVE THE DRUMMERS" because we all know he does! It would be awesome.


So all of you have to go do things for her video since I can't. Go on!
Stupid weather changes. Stupid arthritis.

OWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW.


This always waits to happen until I have a big paper due. WHY IS THAT?
So Thursday, I fell. I have a huge, deep, black bruise on my shin. It has made sleeping somewhat difficult, Thursday and Friday nights.

So, last night, I fell asleep at seven o'clock. And woke up at three. And fell asleep around six. And was woken up by my father at eight.

And now I have to go watch small children recite two-line parts in their little collective sermon--no, really, I have to, my mother is the song leader and has been working her ass off teaching them ASL and making silly signs to help them remember the words.

My head feels stuffed with tissue paper.

Made out of cement.

Shut up. My metaphors don't have to make sense at this point.

What should I wear today?

...groan.

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