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Had my interview today. I am quite sure that I fucked up majorly, but given that it's my first interview in a couple of years and that what I really want is to work in England, I'm not going to be too upset when it turns out I didn't get it. But the college is really nice - v. small, but the people seem friendly. It has a certain battered ambience.
My hair is now brown black. Again, it did not turn out the colour I was hoping for, as I was afraid to leave the dye in too long after the last fiasco. However, I'm hoping to squeeze in time to highlight it this weekend - in between working something like 45 hours in four days, not counting the (roughly) 7.5 hours of travel time...perhaps I can get someone to pick me up one of these days. I mean, McArcus has a car now...and I gave him rides for two years...
Also, I have to grommet the bodice still and do the sleeves. Can I just suggest that if I ever again say that I've had a really great idea for a garment and it turns out that completing it entails something like 46 grommets which have to go through an average of 5-7 (and in one truly frightening case 9) layers of fabric, including two (or four) layers of sturdy pleather someone should beat me about the head and shoulders with a beer bottle?
AND I have to pack, I want to play with my LJ formatting, I have to go to the bank, I have to get MORE FUCKING GROMMETS, clean my room and the loo (since it blows to come back to a dirty room), do loads of laundry, since of course everything I want to take is what I've been wearing so it's dirty, control the urge to pack four pairs of shoes, send in some more job applications, and gah and gah and gah.
The irony, of course, is that I'm really quite exhausted now, and I could go to sleep easily if I went to bed (it's only half nine) but I'd be a fucking wreck in the morning - the last two nights of eight hours sleep and the concomitant days of uncontrollable yawning have brought that fact home in a hurry, that I am now used to six hours sleep, and more is TEH SUCK. I don't know how Jason will put up with this tendency...he has this quaint notion that vacation means you can sleep in.
But, on the bright side, I'm meaner.
Things that are good:
- eagerly awaited cinnamon candy Snarry smut courtesy of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
orionnoire
- black pyjamas (Sadly, no VC machine gun, but you work with what you have)
- my jeans finally came
- job interview
- impending vacation
Things that are less good:
- insane sewing projects that I think I can bang out in an hour
- general exhaustion
- people who seem to not be speaking to me
- the fact that I totally slagged off everything I had to do today and did nothing at all useful
- the fact that much of my writing is running behind schedule
I plan to take the Infamous Breathe Out and the Infamous Dissertation to Wisconsin along with fish and coffee and anything else you people want (although heroin will be hard to come by, as will anything made at Boeing) and hopefully I'll get some stuff done on those on the plane, as well as two short articles I want to write, and maybe even I'll bring Writer's Market and start shopping my untitled Terry piece.
I have no idea for a title...I'd ask but I doubt anyone remembers it. Still, if you do, let me know what you suggest. And if you really want to read it, let me know that too and I'll send it to you if I decide you are trustworthy. I will say now that it's GRAPHIC sex and violence and drug use and language. But it's also very good.
Oh, and I finally made the Azrael badge, since everyone had such a strong opinion that I should do so...you people are useless, you know? *g* I will post a pic as soon as I can (ie, when my FTP site stops being a bitch and starts working again) and then I will have the lovely laminated badge on Monday or Tuesday since I forgot to take it out of the stack for lam on Thursday.
Okay, am now so tired that I was pushing the enter key wondering when I would get to the bottom of what I'd written. Am off to do something to pass the time until I go to sleep that does not entail computers.
Quick note: I wish I could remember my dream from this morning for you all. All I remember is that I was being babysat by Dear Abby (the original one) in the present day (yes, I'm 27) and Tararaven was somehow involved. If I remember, I will inform you, for you have nothing better to do than hang on to my every word.
My hair is now brown black. Again, it did not turn out the colour I was hoping for, as I was afraid to leave the dye in too long after the last fiasco. However, I'm hoping to squeeze in time to highlight it this weekend - in between working something like 45 hours in four days, not counting the (roughly) 7.5 hours of travel time...perhaps I can get someone to pick me up one of these days. I mean, McArcus has a car now...and I gave him rides for two years...
Also, I have to grommet the bodice still and do the sleeves. Can I just suggest that if I ever again say that I've had a really great idea for a garment and it turns out that completing it entails something like 46 grommets which have to go through an average of 5-7 (and in one truly frightening case 9) layers of fabric, including two (or four) layers of sturdy pleather someone should beat me about the head and shoulders with a beer bottle?
AND I have to pack, I want to play with my LJ formatting, I have to go to the bank, I have to get MORE FUCKING GROMMETS, clean my room and the loo (since it blows to come back to a dirty room), do loads of laundry, since of course everything I want to take is what I've been wearing so it's dirty, control the urge to pack four pairs of shoes, send in some more job applications, and gah and gah and gah.
The irony, of course, is that I'm really quite exhausted now, and I could go to sleep easily if I went to bed (it's only half nine) but I'd be a fucking wreck in the morning - the last two nights of eight hours sleep and the concomitant days of uncontrollable yawning have brought that fact home in a hurry, that I am now used to six hours sleep, and more is TEH SUCK. I don't know how Jason will put up with this tendency...he has this quaint notion that vacation means you can sleep in.
But, on the bright side, I'm meaner.
Things that are good:
- eagerly awaited cinnamon candy Snarry smut courtesy of
orionnoire - black pyjamas (Sadly, no VC machine gun, but you work with what you have)
- my jeans finally came
- job interview
- impending vacation
Things that are less good:
- insane sewing projects that I think I can bang out in an hour
- general exhaustion
- people who seem to not be speaking to me
- the fact that I totally slagged off everything I had to do today and did nothing at all useful
- the fact that much of my writing is running behind schedule
I plan to take the Infamous Breathe Out and the Infamous Dissertation to Wisconsin along with fish and coffee and anything else you people want (although heroin will be hard to come by, as will anything made at Boeing) and hopefully I'll get some stuff done on those on the plane, as well as two short articles I want to write, and maybe even I'll bring Writer's Market and start shopping my untitled Terry piece.
I have no idea for a title...I'd ask but I doubt anyone remembers it. Still, if you do, let me know what you suggest. And if you really want to read it, let me know that too and I'll send it to you if I decide you are trustworthy. I will say now that it's GRAPHIC sex and violence and drug use and language. But it's also very good.
Oh, and I finally made the Azrael badge, since everyone had such a strong opinion that I should do so...you people are useless, you know? *g* I will post a pic as soon as I can (ie, when my FTP site stops being a bitch and starts working again) and then I will have the lovely laminated badge on Monday or Tuesday since I forgot to take it out of the stack for lam on Thursday.
Okay, am now so tired that I was pushing the enter key wondering when I would get to the bottom of what I'd written. Am off to do something to pass the time until I go to sleep that does not entail computers.
Quick note: I wish I could remember my dream from this morning for you all. All I remember is that I was being babysat by Dear Abby (the original one) in the present day (yes, I'm 27) and Tararaven was somehow involved. If I remember, I will inform you, for you have nothing better to do than hang on to my every word.
