God, it's obvious how busy I've been by my extreme lack of updating really anything outside of Six Pixels (but that's because I can throw ten comics into the delayed upload, and it'll do it for me. I did almost forget to put in today's yesterday, but I did! And now I just have to scribble one out for tomorrow, and I'll be fine).
The show, "The Last Encomniasts," is FRIDAY, 7PM, HOLLOWAY HALL. Doors open at six. If you have a student ID, up through Thursday you can purchase tickets at the information desk in the University Center for $5. (ANY STUDENT ID WORKS). At the door, tickets are 7$ with student ID, and 10$ without. The show runs approximately 2 hours.
I have two papers I have to crap out between now and Friday, four complete from scratch outfits to make and parts of others to do basically by tomorrow. I AM NOT SLEEPING OH GOD.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
COMIC: Six Pixels goes live
Sunday, November 9, 2008
GENERAL: NaNoWriMo, life
As I am fairly certain that this semester is out to kill me, it's time for one of those NaNoWriMo posts. As I am currently sitting at 15150-ish, and am at least a day and a half ahead of schedule, I shouldn't be fretting about my word count. The problem I'm facing now is that I know once I scribble in "the end" on the last page (whatever that may be number-wise), this novel becomes real, and becomes something that I'm actually seriously going to have to go through, edit, and submit to publishers.
The thought is slightly terrifying-- a novel done, and prepared for editing, with graduation right on the heels, and then moving (oh, god, when did I become an adult?) immediately afterward.
The house is adorable, though. Very vintage--built in the 1950s, and looks the part on the outside. As the rental agency hasn't gotten back in touch with us, though, we're waiting with bated breath to see if we can even get hold of her. It's right within the price range, and while I'll be in Salisbury for the forseeable future, in August, I'll be moving again. Twice, in the same year, neither moves involving any of my immediate family.
Scaaaaaaaary. I'll need to put in "semi-serious" job hunting time within this month and the next, and there will also be the business of becoming a legal driver (ahaha, it's about damn time). Growing up is filled with complexity, anxiety, and it's really fucking expensive. Who decided that our economy should work like this?
In the immediate future, though (re: two weeks), is the fashion show. I am taking a breather from sewing yet another vinyl corset. This show is turning into very Gothic-steampunk fetishy without me even having to try. I'm so excited that Ashlee wants me to assemble a line next semester as well, as that's more media exposure. The beautiful thing about a club entirely comprised of models and people interested in the fashion industry? They'll basically wear anything to walk the runway.
Graduation is about a month and a half away, and I don't know how I feel about it. Silly real world. I'm going to go hide under a rock until you go away.
The thought is slightly terrifying-- a novel done, and prepared for editing, with graduation right on the heels, and then moving (oh, god, when did I become an adult?) immediately afterward.
The house is adorable, though. Very vintage--built in the 1950s, and looks the part on the outside. As the rental agency hasn't gotten back in touch with us, though, we're waiting with bated breath to see if we can even get hold of her. It's right within the price range, and while I'll be in Salisbury for the forseeable future, in August, I'll be moving again. Twice, in the same year, neither moves involving any of my immediate family.
Scaaaaaaaary. I'll need to put in "semi-serious" job hunting time within this month and the next, and there will also be the business of becoming a legal driver (ahaha, it's about damn time). Growing up is filled with complexity, anxiety, and it's really fucking expensive. Who decided that our economy should work like this?
In the immediate future, though (re: two weeks), is the fashion show. I am taking a breather from sewing yet another vinyl corset. This show is turning into very Gothic-steampunk fetishy without me even having to try. I'm so excited that Ashlee wants me to assemble a line next semester as well, as that's more media exposure. The beautiful thing about a club entirely comprised of models and people interested in the fashion industry? They'll basically wear anything to walk the runway.
Graduation is about a month and a half away, and I don't know how I feel about it. Silly real world. I'm going to go hide under a rock until you go away.
Friday, November 7, 2008
A LETTER: of shoes and ships and sealing wax
And old people. Oh, old people.
Seriously? I don't know what is just so gosh-darn difficult about picking up a tray, silverware and a plate. You shouldn't need people to hold your hand when it's all laid out in line for you. Look! We can do it, and we're so much younger and obviously less self-reliant than you are.
Seriously? I want a piece of chicken. I want rice. I want to be able to get a beverage and get out into the bistro seating area without you standing there for fifteen minutes discussing the appearance of the chicken. My entire meal acquisition and consumption takes less time than you do fishing a plate out from underneath the counter.
We don't care. The commons is not your restaurant. Get thee to Old Country Buffet if you must, or Golden Corral. There is a Bob Evans that you likely drove past on your way to get to the university.
Some of us have classes to get to. Some of us would just rather not have to stand in line while you deliberate the consistency of the tequila-lime chicken until you simply keel over dead.
I, for one, don't want a dead body in my food. The commons staff might get ideas and try their hand at meat pies.
Seriously? I don't know what is just so gosh-darn difficult about picking up a tray, silverware and a plate. You shouldn't need people to hold your hand when it's all laid out in line for you. Look! We can do it, and we're so much younger and obviously less self-reliant than you are.
Seriously? I want a piece of chicken. I want rice. I want to be able to get a beverage and get out into the bistro seating area without you standing there for fifteen minutes discussing the appearance of the chicken. My entire meal acquisition and consumption takes less time than you do fishing a plate out from underneath the counter.
We don't care. The commons is not your restaurant. Get thee to Old Country Buffet if you must, or Golden Corral. There is a Bob Evans that you likely drove past on your way to get to the university.
Some of us have classes to get to. Some of us would just rather not have to stand in line while you deliberate the consistency of the tequila-lime chicken until you simply keel over dead.
I, for one, don't want a dead body in my food. The commons staff might get ideas and try their hand at meat pies.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
first words// last words
just follow the tags, it's not that hard.
stats:
stats:
22 * taurus * female * likes red bean buns and beer * dislikes a society gone incompetent * foul mouthed * most likely to be: sitting in a rocking chair with a shotgun yellin' at the children.
where else:
writing * media * fanfiction.net * deviantArt
awesome:
phoenix down monthly
irish_ais_rss
where else:
writing * media * fanfiction.net * deviantArt
awesome:
phoenix down monthly
irish_ais_rss
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