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[Jan. 22nd, 2009|10:39 pm] |
Black socks? They totally get dirty.
But you have to accidentally knock a bag of flour off the top of the fridge first. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 15th, 2008|04:42 pm] |
okay chemistry dorks
Who can watch this and not laugh? |
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| Because Everyone Likes Rice |
[Nov. 20th, 2007|09:06 am] |
I'm trying really, really hard not to let this eat my morning.
Go. Get addicted. It's for a good cause. |
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| (no subject) |
[May. 23rd, 2007|09:45 pm] |
I give you:
Foster's Swampwater Soup
1 part mushroom broth (reserved from rehydrating dried 'shrooms...no, not those kind)
3 parts water
1 spoonful miso paste
couple chunks of frozen spinach
sliced scallion
broken up seaweed paper (sushi wrap)
Must be drunk from a mug. On the couch. Under a blanket. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 20th, 2007|08:28 pm] |
Official Announcement to those of you that read this thing:
Thegreatape and I will be in Oberlin the weekend of the 31st. We have no specific plans as yet, so if you want to get together or anything, give me a holler (good god, I did move south, didn't I?) and we'll work out the details. We'll be around Friday night to as late Sunday as we dare looking down the barrel of a six hour drive and work on Monday. |
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| (no subject) |
[Mar. 11th, 2007|09:10 pm] |
I didn't think that this sort of thing happened in real life, but I found a diamond engagement ring on the sidewalk Saturday night.
I was outside of a major mall, so I turned it in to the nearest security guard. His carefully maintained attitude of vaguely irritated boredom only made the whole thing seem more surreal. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 29th, 2007|11:06 pm] |
Holy craps ow.
Ow my brain hurts. Please people at new job, stop pouring things into my brains. My skull is getting all soggy.
I have a 401K now. And dental and medical. And life insurance. That means I have to decide who gets my stuff when I die, like for real. And that is a weird, weird thought process to be having.
Also I put on my tax forms that I am a 'head of household.' Ha!
But I get all the misspelled tee-shirts I want, and they will pay me to learn Adobe Illustrator. Also they have decent coffee.
The company tee-shirts (that everyone gets one of) say 'inker' on them. I'm totally getting one in an identical font that says 'tracer.' |
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| Awkward with a capital W |
[Jan. 27th, 2007|10:49 am] |
So I got a job at a little catering and deli place a few blocks down last week. I was feeling fairly awesome about it, because the people seemed cool, and it was a reasonable part time, so I could work on selling things off my website while still paying my half the rent.
After working there for three days, I got a call from a place I had applied with a month ago. They are offering full time with benefits and are going to teach me Adobe Illustrator. And they want me to start monday.
*bangs head into desk*
So I have to go back and tell the manager of the catering place who is very nice to me, and whom I like, that I have to quit. This three days after I told him 'no, I don't see that I'll have any reason to move on for at least a year.' Compounding the awkward, I offer out of guilt to finish out the week, and he accepts. So thursday and friday I do what I've already learned to do, but spend a lot of time standing around because there's just no point in teaching me anything else.
Anyway, the good news is I start a shiny job on Monday. Updates to follow. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 15th, 2007|01:26 pm] |
Grrrrr. Someone key'd my car.
Anybody know what kind of sealant I should put on the scratch to keep it from rusting?
On an unrelated note, while cleaning stuff, I ran across a small stack of preserved coins that I'd been given as gifts by my uncle during a brief 'yay coins!' phase. They're all American dimes, quarters and nickles, the oldest from 1904, the youngest from 1943. They're in protective little cardboard holders, so if they're not mint, they're in at least very good condition. They're clearly not thrift store material, I don't want them, and I sure can't chuck them. Anybody know if these would be worth anything to anyone? |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 29th, 2006|12:29 pm] |
I got black bamboo for Krismahannawanzidon, and I think I'm well on my way to killing the poor thing. Thomas' aunt dug some up for me in her back yard, and I think transplantation and temperature shock have had an adverse affect on it.
And I'm leaving for a week on Saturday. Sigh.
Maybe I need to get something more unkillable. Like a cactus. Or a pet rock.
I had a job interview yesterday, with a place called CustomInk. If I get it, they'd pay me to let them teach me Adobe Illustrator, which is nice. Then I'd be refining tee-shirt designs made by the customers. The process so far has been both long and scary. In response to a Craigslist posting, I sent in my cover letter and resume. They then send be back this email which totally faked me out until about half-way through. Here, you tell me:
"Thank you for expressing your interest for the position of Production
Artist for CustomInk. We have had dozens of responses so far, and are
seeking to fill and handful of positions. As you might be able to
guess, many of these applications are best set aside immediately, while
other can be considered "checks" and a relatively small number are
considered "check-pluses." Your application is in this last select
group."
Total fake out or what? It sounds exactly like a rejection letter until that last bit. So the rest of the email is asking me to fill out this questionnaire they have attached, which asks really good questions. The problem with really good questions is balancing honesty with self promotion. They also only gave me three days turnaround time. Which isn't really a problem for me, but I could see it being difficult for someone who is still working.
Then they call me out of the blue and do a little mini phone interview, clarifying aspects of my answers on the questionnaire. During that phone call, they schedule an in-person interview, which was yesterday.
For THREE HOURS.
They did a talking interview, clarifying my questionnaire answers and resume. Then they gave me a test that looked remarkably like those exercises in childrens' magazines where there's one picture and then an almost identical picture and you have to find what's been changed. Also some just 'what's wrong with this?' visual questions.
Then there was a 'can you draft an email to a customer' test.
And then there was an Illustrator skills test. Oy. I told my interviewer on the phone that I didn't know Illustrator, only Photoshop. Boy am I glad I didn't try to fudge knowing it, because I spent some time looking around for the paint bucket tool. There is no paint bucket tool in Illustrator. (smacks forehead)
It wasn't as bad as it could have been though. I understood everything she wanted me to do, I just didn't know where it was kept. And anything that I did twice I was much faster on the second time, so we'll see, I guess.
Then, they had me watch one of the production artists for a half-hour or so, so I could get a feel for the work and the pace.
Lastly, she asked if I had any questions. I managed to uncross my eyes and ask some, one of which she said was a very good question. She also mentioned that I wasn't nearly as bad at Illustrator as some of their applicants, which made me raise my eyebrows. Are some of their applicants handless lemurs or something?
Anyway, there is one more person I have to meet with, who was out this week, so I'm not even done yet. I have to go back on Monday the eighth. Yeesh.
I feel sort of justified in sleeping a little late today, between all that and the zombie dreams last night.
Zombies. I hate those guys. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 18th, 2006|11:16 pm] |
As you may be aware, Thomas has bought me a tablet.
I think I've squeee'd on four different occasions since I cracked it open, as I realized previously impossible things were now possible.
Now, I give you a visual example of why I was previously so frustrated when using photoshop, and why I am now so much happier.
That picture was, how you say, inconceivable before the tablet. Squeee! (and that makes five.)
The next report will likely be a summation of Christmas in the down south. Followed by new year's in the up north. I feel sort of like a ping-pong ball. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 9th, 2006|08:53 pm] |
I spent today sort of stunned, but it was better than last night. I'm trying not to dwell, but I'm really not very good at that. Because of my codemonkey's crazy workness, I spent most of the day alone, and I haven't decided yet whether that was a good or a bad thing.
I did manage to get myself absorbed in a difficult picture I'm photoshop-ing. Trying to integrate photographic elements with scanned ones. I'll probably use the the tablet Thomas just got me for Cristmahannakwanzidon (which, I have decided, lived sometime in the Cretaceous Period) when it arrives to finish the integration.
I'm alive. Less looking forward to going home, because I was going to enjoy the effect my self-sufficiency would have had on my mother. Ah, well.
I'm taking tomorrow off too. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 2nd, 2006|08:24 pm] |
So, so I'm thinking about getting m'self one of those nifty drawing tablets. I'm doing research of course, but I'd be interested in any opinions y'all might have. I'm looking particularly at the Wacom Intuos3 and Graphire4.
I've been rather enjoying the data management system that my codemonkey set up for me. It's really very neat to be able to manage my own website without banging my head against code; simply getting all the parentheses in the right place almost gives me a conniption.
Speaking of digital art, those who signed up for an artmeme piece: they're coming. Promise. I've gotten three done, two to go. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 26th, 2006|10:58 pm] |
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It seems both odd and significant that the things I am grateful for this year are also the things I kvetch about all the time. |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 17th, 2006|05:04 pm] |
Okay, I need advice.
There's a maintenance guy here with waaay too much interest in me, and I want some suggestions as to how to deal with him, keeping in mind that english is not his first language and an overly-verbal response probably won't get me too far, and also that I don't want to piss him off entirely, in case of another water leek.
My interactions with this guy are as follows: He stares at me whenever there is the oppurtunity, and all body language is beyond flirtatious. He has, while alone with me in my apartment, called me a 'very beautiful woman.' I was prepared, during that exchange, to break his knee if he touched me. The behavior was not altered when I dropped the factoid that I am happily living with my boyfriend, nor when there was a male friend present that for all he knows was my boyfriend.
It's been okay the last few weeks, because I've only seen him in passing and said nothing more than 'Good morning, I'm late.' as I was getting into my car. Today, I swing by the office to see if they've got a package for Thomas. The maitenance guy is heading the same direction but too far away for conversation. In order to preclude him getting the idea that I want to talk, I turn, wave, and then continue on briskly. I get to the door of the office, and he's on the other side of the glass, changing the 'I'll be back by such-and-such time' sign. He unlocks the door, and explains that the secretary called and asked him to change it, she's stuck in traffic. I say fine, I just wanted to know if a package was here. He invites me in to look through the packages. As I go over to the pile, he is between me and the door, which is locked automatically when it closes, in an empty office. It is at this point that he decides to ask me 'Are you afraid to be alone with me?'
What. The. Fuck.
I consider the question, as though he had asked me if I knew the capital of Kazakhistan. 'No.' I say, completely without inflection, and continue going through the boxes. He says 'Strong woman.' in an admiring tone. I finish, stand to leave, and on my way out he says 'I would like to see you again.' I am, at this point, at the locked door. I say "Well, I do live here, I'm sure you will.' He unlocks the door, holds it open, and I walk away.
I realize that last response wasn't the greatest, but I didn't really have anything ready that wouldn't have prolonged the conversation.
Also ew. Big time icky ew.
I've decided, on having learning that he has a key to the office, to not resolve the error that means the office does not have a copy of my apartment key.
Any suggestions? |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 13th, 2006|11:33 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  full | ] |
Quiche, Comrade!
I have added a whole new genre of tasty to my personal cooking vocabulary.
Also, working Saturday morning really borked my weekend. Stupid workaholic, poor self-monitor boss who thinks everybody works like he works.
On the bright side, met the kitties that Jo and Nathan are fostering. They seem to be socializing well, in that they didn't just hide under the bed or something while Thomas and I were there. I seemed to have some sort of inexplicable mind-meld with the more standoffish of the two. Also went on long walk, (yay! being outdoors when it isn't dark!) And re-watched Office Space. That movie hits much closer to home now, although I am in the least cubicle-ish job of any of the four of us who were watching. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 27th, 2006|07:30 pm] |
Life/work update:
So I've lately been feeling like I've been doing crappish at work. I probably wasn't, but that's how I felt. I thought the bossman was going to pull me aside to have a 'conversation' about my 'preformance'.
Then, bossman finds one of my three immediate co-workers passed out on the floor of the bathroom.
I feel for the guy, but clearly, I am no longer possibly in the 'least valuable employee' spot.
Order of operations for the next day goes something like this:
Previously passed-out coworker is fired. (in a nice way) He gets his stuff and leaves.
There is a few minutes of quiet work.
I cut my knuckle down to bone on a piece of glass.
I attempt to wash said cut, with the assistance of Lady co-worker, and the combination of sting and seeing my own bone triggers a kind of woosy that I recognise.
I say, 'I need to sit down now.' I do so, and then promptly pass out, scaring the sweet be-Jesus out of Lady co-worker, who thinks I might be having a seizure. She tells Girl co-worker to call 911.
While girl co-worker is talking to 911 operator, I wake up. I was enjoying being asleep, and now there's somebody (Lady) repeating 'you're okay, you're okay,' like a mantra. I say 'I need to lie down now,' get down on the floor and put my feet up on the chair. I feel slightly better, and tell Girl to hang up the phone and ask her to check the mini-kiln I was using, I don't want to stand up and find a little puddle where my experiment was.
After about twenty minutes, standing up in stages, I go back to work.
That afternoon, bossman gets a cookie cake calls an all employees meeting to introduce the new people, of which I am one. All our names are written in hummingbird-sweet frosting on the giant cookie, which we proceed to devour.
Today was normal, I swear.
Just a short break to call my doctor-mommie for a quick consult on woundcare.
Nobody passed out or anything. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 17th, 2006|07:09 pm] |
Dear coworker-
I'm sorry I tried to argue/converse with you like you were an Obie. You kinda look and act like one, so I forgot for a minute that you are in fact an inexperienced nineteen, not a post-college twentysomething.
That said, I am not going to let a statement like 'bisexuality is just a stage before people make up their minds' stand without some johnny-on-the-fucking-spot clarification.
I'm not mad at you. I still in fact, like you. I don't think you're a homophobe. (I site statement 'I would go gay from Bruce Campbell and have his children.' from earlier today.) No, who I'm mad at are all the people who didn't challenge you on similar statements previously. I'm not mad at you, but the look of surprise on your face when I challenged you on your statement pisses me the hell off. As does the wounded and harassed attitude when I pushed you to back up your opinion. You expect to be able to make inflammatory statements and then not have to back them up. I can only assume this is because you are used to be the smartest, or scariest, or loudest. I'm not terribly impressed by any of the above. I will not just sit and allow your opinion to stand unchallenged because you think it should.
I know you're nineteen. But grow up. |
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