lesmisloony: (squee ChanTho)

They said yes!

I still have to pass a written test, and if I do okay on that, an interview. So I'm still not sure about my future for another twelve days.

This is what I want, but it scares me so much. If they let me through the next two hoops then I'm going to have to find housing and a part-time job to pay for that housing, I'm going to have to do homework again and get my own food... this is what I want, but a part of me would have been really relieved if they had said no so I could spend another year in a rich person's house eating their food and making their kids' beds...
Slowly navigating the hot mess that is trying to be an adult in a foreign country.

First, I must wait till May to apply to live in my dream foyer, la Fondation des États-Unis, for the summer. Who knows, maybe it'll be like the Foyer des Étudiantes Internationales on St-Michel and be hella noisy at night or something like that and I won't want to take up permanent residence there upon going back to school.

Yesterday I went to a meeting at St-Denis Université (Paris 8) for people interesting in their translation master and ughhhhhhhh I want it so badly my lungs were silently screaming through the whole meeting. I came rushing home afterward to start my application process, only to be hit with a demand for proof of a C2 level in French. Once again, I'm pretty sure I'm still going to test as C1. However, today I'm going by l'Alliance Française to sign up to take one of the official tests (the TCF) and I'm going to email the director of the program and ask if there's any way I could apply if I come out with only a C1, telling her how much I want this master and how I've already done a bit of freelance translation work and my whole future depends on it. If she says no, I can still wait and apply in September instead of May, hoping that a lot of study and practice will bump me up that second level.

Meanwhile, I'm taking the first of two (or three?) entrance exams for another translation masters at la Sorbonne Nouvelle (Paris 3) on April 2nd. That program is called ÉSIT, and is a lot more popular and well-known to foreign students than the TL3 at St-Denis. I don't have high hopes of being accepted there.

I don't think I could stand to au pair again. I'm going to check the visa requirements and see if there's a way I could live in a foyer somewhere and just work and take a class on my student visa rather than doing this shit for another year. Too much work, not enough vacation, and I cannot stand this weird concept of living at my workplace. I never can tell if I'm hanging out or being tricked into working overtime...
So you guys remember me talking about how right before MOR came into my life I had let people make me become really negative and I was miserable all the time, blah blah?

Facebook does this thing where it digs up your old statuses now, and on this day in 2009 my status was:

...just slept through two classes. Someone pass the cyanide... I might as well sleep through the rest.

When I read that just now my eyes got HUGE and I thought, "That's a HORRIBLE thing to say!" I see the humor kind of, but still, joking about suicide...

Oh, and here's a picture I took with a friend from the hall around the same time:

The caption was: "This is the poster for Suicide Wednesday. Just end it all."

Also not cool, past self.

I met the other au pairs today, and they're pretty cool. I learned that I am definitely an introvert (or, as Kelley put it, an extroverted introvert) because as soon as the initial meeting was over and everyone was heading off in a group to grab food and get to know each other every fiber of my innards was screaming for me to find a way to go home and lie on this bed and refresh internet pages like I'm doing now. I had no reason though, so I stayed to get to know the girls. We grabbed some food at a Monop' and I sat there biting back the urge to force them all to listen to every stagedooring story I had. Then I fought the urge to be a know-it-all about Paris. Then I tried to subtly show off that my French is better than theirs (I don't mean to sound like a snotball, but I have a huge advantage having lived here for a year and having spent so much time gossipping with fans at the hotel doors. Also there was one girl who had been here ~*~two whole weeks~*~ and was from Canada so she immediately was acting all superior but she pronounced the "s" in "ils" every time... her French is about the equivalent of mine when I got here last year, maybe less). I'm used to being the strongest personality in a group, but the only way I could find to get these girls' attention was tell them about how recently I was a prude. They promised to corrupt me and one let me try her beer (beurk!).

It was a decent time, but after we browsed through two or three stores I finally made up an excuse and said I had to head home. I felt so relieved to be alone again. I did a good job socializing and they all seem very nice, but it's times like these that I realize just how much I love being left alone.
Me every year at Carowinds.

Read more... )

PS I know there is a picture from 2007 because I went with a bunch of people from my job... or maybe that was 2006.  No yeah, 2007 I went with friends from high school and there was no group photo, and the year before, 2006, I went with friends from my job.

Man I go to Carowinds a lot.






Today I finished my Paris Bucket List!  I ran around in the catacombs with my sonic screwdriver and touched two peoples' skulls.  And then I fulfilled my yearlong dream of sitting on line 14 at the end even though the multilingual voices tell you to get off and riding it into the darkness where it turns around.  IT WAS AWESOME.


(Also please say a quick prayer to your favourite deity that tomorrow goes well for me thanks.)
I'm kind of falling apart.  Maybe all this tour stalking has finally caught up to me.  Obviously my personal life has me on an emotional rollercoaster again and I'm constantly at war with myself over my decisions and that's just concerning me and myself and my choices.

I am a terrible student. )

Yet when I show up at the hoteldoor I feel like the best person ever.  I recognise almost all of the hardcore fans and I like them all (even though they don't seem to like each other).  I love using bus maps to find my way around a new town and I love that moment when I use the strange key to open the door to my hotel room and see where I'll be crashing for the next two nights.  I love dozing off with my mouth open on the train.  I love that funny noise the machine makes when I stick my train ticket in and I love handing the contrôleur my carte 12-25.  I always come home with new French phrases and new facebook friends and, most importantly, flotos.  The Troupe knows me, a bunch of them call me by name, at least two of them have read my lj and at least one regularly stalks my facebook.  Three have tried to get me free tickets to the show.  As for the fans, in Rouen some of them wanted pictures with ME, one told me she could find me a job if I ever wanted to come back to France, several have told me I'm welcome to stay with them if I ever need a roof over my head in various cities, all of them are willing to give me rides in their car when my hotel is an hour and a half away on foot...  People want to buy dolls from me, people try to commission other knitted stuff, it's ridiculous.

Maybe that's why I've completely stopped caring about classes.  My friends back home just graduated and I'm stuck in class limbo for a few more weeks.  And then I have to start real life and I have to just go to work every day and pay bills and reread my own lj entries and remember that for one year in France I was a legend.  For one year in France my life was indescribable.  For one year I lived in fangirl heaven.

For anybody who was with me when I left for Christmas break, when I thought that without the Palais des Sports every night my world was over... get ready for all that angst to crank up again.  Times a hundred.
 Today on facebook I saw a picture of the girl who was responsible for my terrible mental state last year and the borderline depression I keep alluding to.  Basically, the girl who destroyed my self-esteem, turned my friends against me, and made me utterly paranoid about human relationships.

And for the first time, seeing her face pop up on my newsfeed didn't make my stomach turn.  I just though "Oh yeah, her!  Huh."

I could go back through all my old lj entries and tell you how long it took me to repair myself after what that whole drama put me through, but instead I'm just going to say I think I'm finally better.  Off the top of my head, I'd say it's been about a year and a half since I was in the worst place of my life so far, and now I'm reasonably sure I'm in the best.  All that silly drama seems so small now.

There's a whole world outside of your social group!  It's true.

The little bit of me that's still vengeful wants to be like "HOW YOU LIKE ME NOW BEEYATCH? I pulled free of your web and now I'm running with the same actors I used to doodle and dream about whenever you and your nonsense made me want to cry!"

But overall I'm just thinking, "Woohoo, hope I don't die in Bruxelles!"

Seriously though.  I might die in Bruxelles.

If that happens, you moflos better get on the official forum and inform everyone that that knitting American fan DIED FOR NUNOZART.  And Flo better come to my funeral.



(Really I don't think spending the night alone at the train station can possibly be all that bad... I mean, hopefully.  I'll wear my goofy Flo hat and take off my fake lashes and try to look really tough and unappealing to murderers.  And I'm obviously not going to actually SLEEP there.  I'll just sit till morning.  With a book.)

ETA: The fact that this post went from serious business reflections on my past life to goofy MOR-related funeral plans says a lot about how different my mental state is now from last year.  I'm much sillier and giddier now.  And I think we all know why.

I can't believe I'm home.  Like... I'm home.  I haven't been here since August and yet it's like I never left.  The dog got a haircut and that's the only thing that's different.

My family laughed at me because at dinner I was holding my fork upside-down in my left hand like a French person, but I genuinely could not imagine another way to eat lasagna.  And then out of habit I stacked everyone's plates and helped my mom clear the table (with my host family clearing the table is a team effort) and the SHOCKED look on my mom's face was a little bit amazing.

My brother is still a douchebag.  I found out that my overall Sorbonne grade was a SIXTEEN--I got a 14,5 on the written exam and, get this, 18,25 on the oral.  DUDE I AM A GENIUS.  I got that grade without paying ANY ATTENTION IN CLASS EVER because I was so busy doing things like this and this and this and this.

FLORENT MOTHE. If you ever stop by my livejournal again, I MADE AN 18,25 on my oral exam at the Sorbonne.  I am a GENIUS.  YOU SHOULD MARRY ME.  (I mean, we all drew a topic we'd discussed in class and I just *happened* to draw Demain dès l'aube, meaning my topic was VICTOR HUGO FOR GOODNESS'S SAKE, so really I lucked out.  But remember when I talked about dancing around my room to Victime de ma victoire instead of studying??  THIS IS THE RESULT.)

Anyway I was saying.  My brother was like eighteen? That's failing.  And then he made fun of my host family's name and he made fun of the gifts they sent my parents and he talked over everyone at the table about his life going to a party school at the beach, because THAT'S what we all want to hear about.  Not the girl who hasn't been home since August because she's been living in a foreign land.

I mean, he doesn't mean any harm.  He's just really not fun to deal with.

I'm lying in my bed now--MY bed, my actual bed!--after a full night's sleep.  The train ride was pretty awesome.  I left Trenton at 8am, never got out of my seat, the lady next to me gave me some cake, and we ended up getting delayed for an hour in Washington.  And then we were ten minutes from home and we had to pull over for like thirty minutes while another train passed, and all the other people on the train were like losing their minds because they were going to be SO LATE and they were like NOOO I'M AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE and I was like I'M FOUR DAYS AND AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE but I was kind of laughing the whole time because honestly.  After what I've been through, I don't know if anything will ever upset me again.  Travel-wise.

I played Sims the whole way home, stopping every once in a while for MOR or Conan.  My game is pretty epic right now, but I'm going to post my screencaps later in a friends-locked post because I don't want to be ashamed of myself again.  Oh, and I spent an hour and a half making a much better Flo Sim than my previous one.  He's not in the game yet because my previous one still is, but you know he will be soon.  The new Flo has the Flonytail.

I watched the MOR video with my subs on the plane and again on the train (IT WAS RESEARCH) and caught like four spelling errors (emporer, reqiuems, fun stuff) and one sub that flashed by WAY TOO FAST.  I'm going to watch the video with my mom today who speaks no French, is an English grammar teacher, and has no idea what to expect to get her opinion (she'll finally understand me when I tell her stories about her unwilling future son-in-law!).  Then I fix my errors and SUBTITLES FOR YOU FOR CHRISTMAS, INTERNET!

I also have two more MOR reviews and three-ish more stagedoor stories to tell.  And that forum is definitely going to take shape soon.  I don't know much about such things, so I'm investigating to see if lefora is a better thing than forumotion or whatever... idk.

I went through all my clothes and put on a look-how-big-everything-is-now fashion show for my mom.  AND THEN!  Three years ago I bought this CHIC AS A MOFO coat thing with cape sleeves off eBay but it was too small.  It was SO CUTE that I just kept it in the back of my closet all these years.  Today.  It fits.  Oh my gosh, I'm going to be the most amazing person in France.  I'll post a picture of that life-changingly awesome coat at some point so I can blow all your minds.  I forgot I even had it!   I finally got on an American scale--I've lost forty pounds since I left America.

OH MY GOSH birds are tweeting outside my window.  I have seen nothing but pigeons since August.  BIRDS!  I forgot about living in the woods and stuff.  There are birds!

I don't remember if I had anything specific to say in this post other than SQUEE AMERICA.  Basically, I woke up at 6am and decided to internet.  I kept dreaming I was in airports or at the stage door trying to tell Flo and Mikele I got home safely (because they are obviously worried about me) and then I'd wake up, squint around and be like Wait, where am I?  And it would hit me--HOME!--and I'd cry a little and then go back to sleep.  And next time I go to sleep I'll wake up and it'll be Christmas!  Wow.
 So we have a class wherein we interview with the groovy French professor, Bondurand, and he then gives us an assignment based on our interests that somehow ties in to making sure we're experiencing French culture.  My assignment?  Turn in three one-page papers that begin with the phrase "Aujourd'hui, dans le jardin, pendant que je tricotais..." [Today, in the jardin, while I was knitting...]  Yes that's right: my assignment is to SIT IN A JARDIN IN PARIS and KNIT and wait for French people to walk up and chat with me about what I'm doing.  He says he thinks this will happen.  I say this is the most epic homework I've ever had.

We took a walking tour of Montmartre today, led by the ever-delightful Bondurand.  It began when he barked at a group of tourists who were standing too close--yes, he barked at them--and ended when he told us to beware the Russian mafia when we explore the red-light district of Pigalle.  I finally learned about the history of Montmartre and the Paris Commune!

Even more excitingly, I encountered a pickpocket!  A stinky but not unattractive man was pressing up against me in a shuttle up the side of Montmartre in a way that really grossed me out.  I was so freaked out by the way he was standing against me (like, I would step away and he would stand even closer) that my brain didn't translate the touch on my leg to "finger sliding into my pocket." Sucka!  All my belongings were safely in my purse, which I had begun clutching the moment I stepped into the crowded shuttle.  One of my friends actually saw his hand go into my pocket, and then she says he caught her gaze and she raised an eyebrow at him.  After that I moved away and he backed off.

Lesson learned: if a man is pressing up against you unnecessarily whilst you stand inside a form of public transport, there is another thing he could be trying to do than the obvious.  Secure your valuables, literally and figuratively, and move away as best you can.

He wasn't even wearing a top hat.
Well, that was an experience.

My yesterday started as perhaps the worst day in the world.  New developments in hall drama, though not directly involving me, were upsetting my friends (Parissss when can I move in with you where it's safe?), my computer got YET ANOTHER blue screen of death (apparently something is bad wrong with my video driver, so I'm just gonna have to suck it up and let the university guys install Windows 7 on my laptop to see what happens), I was about to take an exam for which I was grossly underpreparded (hadn't even been to the class in almost three months), and then... anything else?  Oh yeah, the mothereffing jewellery store FIRED ME.

Pissiness about that )

Well, I got the call from the jewellery store around noon and my exam was at four.  I cried for a while, took a shower, cried a little more, and then watched the Rifftrax version of New Moon to calm myself down.  Still I was miserable.  So miserable, in fact, that I put on a t-shirt for the first time all semester.  That's right--I was in a t-shirt mood.  And for me, that is NOT GOOD.

So I dragged myself off to my exam (not hideously bad, but I'm really only hoping for a C at this point), then to an extra credit event for my remaining French class (realised that all my former French professors hate me now... because I'm a terrible student, yayy), and then I had a dinner planned with two of my friends as a belated birthday thing.  I was so not in the mood for this, but they'd been planning it with me for several weeks and I knew they were really excited, so I called my hometown friend Stacyfacy, steeled myself, and tried to put on a game face. 

On the way to one of the friends' car, she asked if we could stop by the Battle House (a kind of community house thing for kids involved with the Baptist Campus Ministry or something... like a sorority house for Christian kids, but no one lives there, I guess) to grab some stuff.  I said sure.  I sulked along, and right as I was grumbling about how no one cares about Solal when they could be watching an interview with Flo or Mikele, I looked up and saw this:


And, peering from the windows of the Battle House, all the people I love (all of my favourite dorm friends [that is, the ones who have never made me cry myself to sleep], my friends from my home town [including Stacyfacy, to whom I'd just been talking on the phone], my favourite person from the old version of my cinema job, and my mother!).  The whole dinner was a giant setup for a surprise birthday party.

Read more... )

My mind is still blown.
Today I woke up, went out to breakfast with my mom (she spent the night in my beautiful spare bed last night), played with my NEW MOZART L'OPÉRA ROCK PIANO BOOK for about three and a half hours, hung out with my friends for a bit, then went out to dinner with my parents and my friends.  Everybody had a good time, which was a nice change from the last time a group of my friends went out to eat and made my dad feel extremely uncomfortable.  This time my dad got to tell some jokes and everyone laughed and it was a good time.  Plus we all rode illegally in the back of the car.  Then we came back to the dorm, watched the new Doctor Who (OMG OMG OMG) and then watched Repo.  I feel really good about my life right now.

As the Graverobber says: Old grudges?  Old lovers?  Sometimes I wonder why we all don't move on...

So I'm just done with all of it.  Drama and talking crap have been such a big part of my life for two years, but it's so much better just to concentrate on having fun with my last few weeks of dorm life before I ship myself off to Paris for a year.

Oh, and by the way? Le Bien qui fait mal is AWESOME on piano.  I never would have expected that.

And!  Best of all (for my happiness; worst for my productivity levels), I fixed my Sims 3 game!  Something went wrong with the irritating way you have to install custom content in the Sims 3, and after about a half hour of playing I kept getting the blue screen of death.  So I went in and removed every last bit of custom content (byyye gorgeous hair!) and now everything seems to be running smoothly, if a bit more plainly.
Our "band" performed at the community talent show tonight. It was a surprise hit--after all, everyone else was doing long, weird solos accompanied by harmonicas and acoustic guitars. We passed out lyrics and invited people to join in. Fun times.

I'm in such a good place (geographically and emotionally) that I basically never feel the need to complain about life to you guys.  And when something fandom-y happens I have a flesh and blood person to talk to, because three of my friends watch Doctor Who and one watches the Mighty Boosh and all those other quiz show type things... plus one of my rl friends knows musicals.  The only thing I can't squee over with my hallmates is Les Mis, but for that I have Abaissé.  So yeah, I don't have any need to angst about anything.  And when I'm happy I don't have that much to say on livejournal.

Okay... so here's a picture I drew of Captain Jack Harkness.

Well, I found these clips on youtube yesterday and they made me happy.

Docteur... je vous aime... )

And I had a dream that I met David Tennant and we were holding hands.  And then Kelley texted me from the next room and told me to ask him to get us tickets to see the series finale of Secret Diary of a Call Girl (which is a live show in my dream, I guess) so David Tennant started haggling with Billie Piper over whether there were any tickets left.  Then I decided to go to bed.  David Tennant joined me (in a decidedly cute but non-sexy way) and used my snuggie as a blanket.  Then he grinned at me all guiltily and said, "I think I peed the bed."  And it was true.  So I got up and started pulling the sheets of the bed to wash them, but David Tennant started complaining because he just wanted to go to sleep.  I said "You cannot sleep in your own filth, David Tennant!" but he said that it was three in the morning and it was time for bed.  I snapped, "You can travel in time!" and then my Dalek alarm clock woke me up.

I wanted to share that dream because it's hilarious and horrifying.  And because I now have a mental image of David Tennant, wrapped up in a Snuggie, grinning and saying "I think I peed the bed." My life has changed.

Also, just to clarify to the world.  When it comes to Doctor Who, series two is my favourite series.  But Nine is my favourite Doctor.  But Tennant is my favourite person.  I have so much love to distribute evenly to everyone but River Song.

Whoops, I was going to end the post there but now I'm still talking.

Being Human is getting more and more upsetting but also more and more addictive.  I'm glad Mitchell is being a normal vampire, but I'm also distressed that he's doing it out of anger and not for the lulz.  But thank GOODNESS he knows about the Purple-Face Beeyotch now.  Maybe he can hurry up and save Allons-y George and stat.  Also, the end of the last episode had that Miserere Mei that plays in the Les Mis video game when you go up to heaven to ask for Victor Hugo's help.  I know because I (shockingly) need a lot of help when I play that game.  And because my game used to freeze there a lot.  Still, it's a gorgeous song and I love it now.

By the way, for those of you who aren't Kelley, I'm calling Lucy a Purple-Face Beeyotch because she's also the actress from Shadow in the North whose obnoxiousness was responsible for a death that made Billie Piper sad.  And because she literally had a purple face in that movie.  And because whenever she's in a show she ruins everything.  She made Billie Piper sad and she made Mitchell evil and soon she's going to make George dead.  I can't even deal with the Purple-Face Beeyotch all up in my sexy vampire.

Also, we had a costume party this past weekend which was ridiculously fun.  I dressed up as Fantine.  Unfortunately, all of the pictures are unflattering and in going through them I was launched into a depression that lasted almost twelve hours, but I'm okay now.

Here is the picture that shows off the costume really well but also makes me look like a lardo.

But the pearls were in her mouth...? )

I guarantee that my chin isn't usually that... well, that.  I was doing my consumption cough into my bloodstained handkerchief.

Oh, and for the record, I made the cap and the stays I'm wearing here.  I'm proud of that.  The skirt is left over from high school, the shirt came from eBay, and the boa came from Hobby Lobby.  The handkerchief was from Hobby Lobby as well, and I smeared red food colouring all over it.

Okay, I think I'm done posting to livejournal now.

One-point-five months till Doctor Who comes back!
 If you understand this and are not one of those two people, you too are awesome.

Kind of a spoiler for The Shadow in the North. )
lesmisloony: (amazing Richmond)
So far this semester is absolutely amazing.  I have one class on Mondays, which is at 2:00, two classes on Tuesdays (12:30 and 3:30), and then I add a class at 3:00 to Wednesdays and a recitation at 5:00 to Thursdays.  And there's nothing on Friday.  NOTHING.

I'm unofficially in a single room, so I stay up late watching things like Secret Diary of a Call Girl or just listening to my iTunes, and then I sleep in as late as I want without hearing feet shuffle or keyboard keys or the fridge door squeaking open.  In fact, I've got my own fridge, and it's crammed full of yoghurt, skim milk, cheese, hot dogs, those amazing Deli Creations flatbread things, and, of course, ranch dressing.  All the essentials.

My room is also organised awesomely such that I have an open space right under the disco ball.  I call it my dance floor, and last night all of my favourite people on the hall convened for a dance party that lasted at least an hour.  It was exhausting and wonderful.  My favourite part was when we all belted Assasymphonie and Kat came running in pretending to slit her wrists with a paintbrush (in lieu of a baton).  Then I pretended to be one of those blindfolded flail-y dancers for a while behind her.  It was good times.  Oh, wait, my other favourite part was when Kat and Leigh each took the dance party up a level, literally, by climbing up on to the empty bed and doing a series of bizarre dances that were hilarious and mortifying.  Or when Kelley came in and calmly munched an apple while the rest of us spazzed out.  Anna and I bonded over not knowing any songs until we hear the refrain and Sarah O impressed us all by apparently knowing every song ever.  And Asian Becca dancing with Anna is simultaneously one of the cutest and most unsettling things I've ever seen.  R.A. Becca even joined us briefly, but then she slumped away to do homework.  Oh, and Tara discovered her latent DJ skillz!  Except one dance party will get Bad Romance stuck in your head for the rest of your life.  Also, my adorable little rug (which has giant water stains on the bottom for which I  was certainly not responsible--this is my not funny face) managed to migrate halfway across the room due to the dancing.

I also have this little space behind my dressers and under the empty bed that is really fun to crawl into.  All the cool kids are doing it.  So much fun.  And so pointless.

Also!  Tara, Leigh, and Kelley all watched Doctor Who over the break, so now people are actually noticing that I spend about a third of any conversation quoting and making references to Doctor Who.  It's always a little surprising (and delightful!) to hear someone actually laugh or say "I see what you did there!" after I mumble "Trust me on this," or "Chan, is this a tradition amongst your people, tho?"  Or whatever.

As for the actual school part of school, I've only been to three classes so far.  

One is a Global Issues class whose professor seems like one of those people who grow great vegetables and wears toe socks around the house.  The first day was learning about how Disney is a terrible douchebag company that exploits Haitians.  I'm so worried that this class will turn me off of WalMart.  I know WalMart is evil, but it's also where I get all of my food and most of my clothes!  I need it in my life.  Don't take it from me, Global Issues Class.

I also have two French classes.  My French pronunciation class is with this amazing old guy who got a doctorate at Harvard and speaks three languages.  I had him for history of the French language last year, and I'm genuinely only taking this class because he's teaching it.  And I recognised several people who were in my class last year who were coming back for the same reason.  He's adorable.  He's also the one who told me Victor Hugo thought they were going to rename Paris "Hugo, France." I haven't heard that anywhere else, but I choose to believe it.  Ol' Vic's ego is legendary.  It just makes sense.  Also, I love this professor.  He shuffles around the classroom bumping into desks, but he makes jokes under his breath and you just know he's an absolute genius.  As for my other French class, it's taught by one of the heads of the French department, and she speaks VERY QUICKLY.  It's about francophone Africa, which isn't exactly my cup of tea, but we get to read a book called "Tintin au Congo" for class Friday and just by the cover it looks delightfully un-PC.

So that's school so far!  I've already spent a lot of time lying across the futon showing clips of things to my friends.  And Kelley and I have made a pact to watch Ruby in the Smoke and Shadow in the North at some point this week.  We gotta get our Matt Smith love ready for series five!
So, sometimes my life is all terrible and worthy of whinging, but not very often. It's much more likely that my life is like this:

I'm the one in the yellow spotted dress providing the main vocals along with my dear Katherine, who is at my side as she should be. Bonus points to anyone who can correctly count the number of people on this futon.

Also, stuff like this on facebook, which is a ridiculous time suck but I can't help it:

It's Petville, which is a terrible waste of time. Basically, you create a little pet character and then you put furniture in its house and drag that soap bar over it a few times a day to get points. I show you the picture only because I want you to see if you can guess what Kat's and my pets' names are. Give you a hint... mine's the one on the left with that random piece of hair on its cheek. And Kat's is emo. And they're bff.

So yeah, my life has gotten inane. But cheery again, so yay!

I've got my job back: my cinema reopened under new management and they know nothing about running the place, so I'm almost a consultant or something. I've been working since Thanksgiving and yesterday I finally got my first paycheck. I celebrated with delicious sushi and mango gelato. Oh man I love my life. Then came that futon experience that we caught on video. Last night I stayed up till 6am knitting and marathoning series two of Doctor Who with Tara, who is wonderful. I'm trying to finish this afghan for my parents for Christmas before I go home Wednesday, but I don't know if I have a chance at that. Meh.

Two more exams, both on Wednesday, and a take-home exam due by email Friday. One of my Wednesday exams is java. Oh dear God java. Do not take java or javascript classes unless you're just amazing at computer programming already, you guys. I went in thinking it was going to be, like, an advanced form of HTML. It isn't. It's math in disguise. D: The horrid thing is, I feel like I could really like it... but it just... moves too quickly? Or the class expects too much intelligence from me? Or something?

Oh! And I've started contemplating that fanfic again. The one I'm writing about how Éponine and "de Lotbinière" are boarding with Marius and Cosette. And I'm having trouble understanding the floor plan of Gillenormand's house. In various movies (2000 and '82) it looks ridiculously giant, but I swear I read in the Brick that it was a first-floor apartment. Really? But... I got the idea that there were stairs between Marius and Cosette's bedroom (formerly Gillenormand's bedroom, right?) and where ever it was Valjean was chilling when he decided to clear things up with Marius. And I know there was a room set aside for Valjean, wasn't there? Or was that just in the 2000 miniseries? Oh geez, has that movie supplanted canon somehow in my head? Not acceptable. Also, wasn't that a downstairs room of some sort where Valjean had to meet with Cosette post-wedding? And where do Nicolette and Basque go? I don't understand ANYTHING. Speaking of which, Nicolette is just the cook, right? And they tried to take Toussaint on as a housekeeper but it didn't work? So who cleans up after them?
lesmisloony: (XD Shoujo Cosette)
First, thanks so much to everyone who always posts sweet and supportive comments to my whiny posts.  You guys always make me feel better no matter how serious or trivial my angst is. 

Second, I would like to say that actually my life is really, really good.  I'm on a slow and steady upswing after I hit a complete depression a few months ago, and other than the occasional emotional setback every day is better than the last.  I'm loving the friends I've been hanging around with and everyone has been very nice despite the fact that I've been blasting Tatoue-moi all up and down the hall for weeks.

The thing is, when I'm happy I don't really post to livejournal... but when I'm angsty I feel the need to come over here and rant.  My life really is good, I promise!  Like, Sunday I had a delightful dinner with a group I don't see enough of and we were joined by a couple of guys from the dorm.  Then we decided to build a fort in the study lounge but unfortunately there were people studying in all of them for some reason.  So instead I went and stood around in a guy's room on fourth floor and he demonstrated his juggling skills.  He tried to teach me but I am extremely uncoordinated.  It was wonderful.

And Monday!  Monday a big group of us went to the dining hall where we generally acted like morons and sang loudly to each other despite the weird looks we were getting.  And then we skipped back to the dorm shouting our love for each other to the world.  And then!  Then a guy came running up and told us the basement of the dorm was unlocked.  He led a secret tour down there and it was amazing.  There were about eight of us.  The basement of our dorm is huge!  And incredible!  There are massive hot pipes everywhere and this thing that looks like a torture chamber, seriously.  And then he showed us this tiny door in the wall which led to a long, pitch-black passageway.  The ceiling was kind of low because more of those pipes were running above us.  There were no lights, so we lit the way with our cell phones.  We had to duck under cobwebby light fixtures and at one point we almost had to crawl.  And when we finally emerged on the far side of the passage we were in a completely different building. The tunnel took us all the way out, under our dorm, under the tennis courts, under part of the parking garage, and up into the ground floor of a dorm I'd never been to!  It was MAGICAL.  Then I spent the rest of the evening sitting on a friend's floor NaNo'ing while a group of us tried to study despite the wonderful distraction of each others' presences.

Today has also gone quite well.  I was in one of those REALLY REALLY good moods wherein I blast Mozart l'Opéra Rock and danced to myself in my room like a nutball.  And then I went out to eat with some of the same people from the previous fun times and we ended up sitting in the restaurant laughing and giggling for several hours.  And now I'm on the futon trying to NaNo (obviously that isn't going so well) while Kat sits by my feet and paints.  Earlier we all Myers-Briggs'd ourselves and discovered that Katherine and I are soulmates.  The internet says so.  So you know it's true.

No news yet on getting my old job back under the new owners, though they told me to fill out a "routine application" today.  The theatre will reopen on the 27th.

So!  In short!  I'm desperately sorry I keep coming across on livejournal as such an emo kid and I thank you all for being so sweet and supportive.  My Myers-Briggs test told me that I'm desperate for constant positive reinforcement and attention from others, like I didn't already know that... So science agrees that you guys are awesome... haha, I'm getting sleepy.  But thank you!  And please don't let me act like I have a terrible life.  My life is quite spectacular, in fact.

That is all.  I must get some words written now before I sleep.

I love Windows, but still, lol.


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