June 3rd, 2003

documentation, writing, quill

Plans for the Week

Well.

Tuesday: hit school, hit the bookstore for a bus pass, hit the bank, hit the DMV, see whazzup, try and get a new license, hit the phone & pay the phone bill.

Wednesday: my birthday. #23, that special one. Good magic, eh. See if I have enough spare change/cash to take the Little Fayoumis to see X2 with me (me getting the free movie because, you know, of my birthday & shit. Also: school.

Thursday: School, and Fayoumis-sitting as marxdarx and votania go and prepare themselves to donate the plasma.

Friday: Whatever. Inclusive of school.

Saturday: more bleeding, this being mine. Hopefully also an encounter with the Dark side of the force. (Or perhaps Thursday...)

Sunday: Whatever, part II or III.


Next week: final week of classes, and STRESS LIKE HELL (probably). Next weekend: votania and family hitting Cali for her uncle's memorial service with the rocketmen.

Week after that: Finals week. w00t, or not.

Midsummer.
Darkside's birthday.
Three weeks of blessed peace & babysitting. Maybe even a trip for me to the California state (and possibly even getting laid!!!!)
running, bomb tech

Package

My mother sent me a box with my shoes. Also in the box were many skeins of bright & colorful yarn, and two birthday packages.

One of them is a watch.

My boots, the ones that have the square high heels and the zip-up-ness that is somewhat too tight for comfort, kick ass.
running, bomb tech

Ow.

Random bitchfest commences:

To send a document of 100 words or less, the local IEEE student chapter president sends out a 200K+ email. Um... ow?

Shot him back a request to please try and keep all this sort of thing to 50K or less. I mean, this was a meeting announcement giving a brief topic of discussion, the speaker's name, the meeting place and time. Um? I have no idea how that could have gotten bloated to 200+, when the real information contained was under 6k. I swear, it was like he put a scan of a flyer in there... idiot.

[Edit: his cute business card image accounted for 83k. The total size was 257k. MS word document attached, which only should have been another 30k or so. Oy. Scanned clean, though.]
Little Fayoumis, Nephew

Thoughts

The Summer Youth Passport from Valley Metro is $46. This is equivalent to about 77 trips on the bus. It is valid for 90 days.

Debate with rest of Temple as to the advisability of getting one for Little Fayoumis. (As I saw a bike on sale at Fry's for $30, I am guessing that "not" is the state of affairs, especially as Mommy has a car.)
running, bomb tech

Success!

Rode the bus to the MVD Customer Service Office, stated my business, got a number and paperwork to fill out, smiled at the nice guy at desk #7, got my photo taken (last time, we'd agreed that it was Shanna who was to have gotten her photo taken on the license, but I was out at the crucial moment, so it was me) (there exists only one photo of Shanna, and we're in our NIN shirt, with short dyed-black hair, in 2000 or 2001 in the DeVry cafeteria) , and got the license. Then, we rode the bus back home.

The bus ride there was beyond interesting. Note that garnetdagger should not start anything while we have the Little Fayoumis in our care, even if the rude asses are causing him distress. However, once she has started something, she does indeed follow through, and does not bail in the midst of the little skinny teen punk trying to bring a civil exchange of words onto a far more frightening level.
running, bomb tech

iroshi, I think you'd identify with this one.

There was a young lady of Kent
who always said just what she meant.
People said, "She's a dear -
So direct - so sincere -"
And they shunned her by common consent.


(Found in the journal of hai_kah_uhk, of course.)


In other news, according to marxdarx, I am so direct, and have such an interesting energy field, that people are intimidated by me.
running, bomb tech

Dreamself

I usually don't think of myself much in dreams. My body feels like my body. Somewhat lighter, and easier of motion; my dreamself is generally capable of floating in the air for a few seconds, and actually doing all of that Matrix/wirework stuff, unaided.

I don't tend to see other people, fully-bodied and describable in the waking world, in dreams. I see "a person who is <insert name>". If I were to paint the cast of my dreams, I'd insert full portraits of anyone whose visuals I did know (and occasionally people I know get put in other people's bodies, which is disconcerting for all), and then paint generic bodies and blank faces all alike, like something out of a not-particularly-well-rendered game, for those that I didn't know how to picture, with labels floating above their heads, the way that I know they are who they are.

For example, when I dreamed of thrames recently -- that is how I picture him. Generic male body, and the livejournal bust, and the clickable name thrames.

I grew up without television. I never formed intense pictures of book-characters in my head. They were names. Names without faces. So that's how I got used to dreaming. I knew the name; I knew the character. Every now and then, someone would be vividly in my dream, nameless, with a face. One was that red-headed man, the father of my baby. That's passed. I no longer have that future. Another time, the little dark-haired boy in a soccer uniform. I live that, now. The red-headed man was half dreaming. The little dark-haired boy was waking. I know him, and I love him.
Nine

Scenes & Monologues

Scenes & Monologues was an event that my Drama teacher did every year. Basically, just for shits & giggles, it was an evening of short pieces by students, especially those who were just not quite suited for starring roles in whichever plays were going on, by virtue of not being suited to the role, rather than being lousy actors. Admission was $1, to keep people who didn't give a shit out.

It got, naturally, abbreviated to S & M in our teacher's writing. One day, in class, I seem to recall her mentioning it by the abbreviation. There was a definite pause while the less-naive of the students snorked laughter, and she realized how it had come out...
  • Current Mood
    nostalgic nostalgic
running, bomb tech

Heh.

Evidently, I am brave to hit the Phoenix bus system with six year old at xxx degrees in the early afternoon, headed for the MVD Customer Service Office.

All part of a day's work.
Darkside

Dragonlance & Darkside

M'love's favorite character ever is Raistlin Magere. It's that whole 'evil' thing. Oh, and power.

...Honestly, knowing him, I might not have guessed that. But then, looking further -- I might.