sigmastolen: (ter'angreal)
i've actually been wanting to post a crazytalk entry for a few days except i've been too busy devoting every waking moment to reading a memory of light to even type it

and now that that's done i already have a wicked bookover so

i guess not yet
sigmastolen: (Default)
however: the last six days are the longest stretch i have gone without feeling intensely awful and crying suddenly about nothing/everything for at least two months, so there's that.

to absolutely do tomorrow: begin aldeburgh application; spend some serious quality time with contrabassoon
to maybe do tomorrow: comic shop?

idk it's still been a little rough, a little like i'm experiencing the world from a great distance, but for a few days, at least, i was feeling like i'd maybe taken a step into the light. i was feeling... galvanized? like i had Things To Do and, finally, the ability to actually do them without being overwhelmed or falling apart or being too afraid to begin. yesterday and today, i'm still trying to do the things but my burst of energy seems to have dissipated; i'm not sure how to go on from here.

also all the gratuitous boozing on bsg is making me really want a drink. or to maybe buy a secret bottle of whiskey or some such just to have on hand and also to have something to put in the flask. no no that is the worst idea ever i won't actually but man i really could use a drink.
sigmastolen: (Default)
i know i'm not always the most engaging person to be around -- i am fundamentally pretty quiet, and i tend to fall silent if i am uncomfortable, unhappy, or if i feel like i don't have anything to contribute. but it's just -- so. awful. to to be in a room with someone and feel completely invisible. and tonight wasn't the first time and it won't be the last.

and i feel bad for having been less than sparkling because it really, honestly, was not about me, and i feel guilty for being in such an awful, fucked-up place when i have a guest who i only see about once a year, because i don't want to waste our time together moping and i don't want to be a drag on the even shorter time she has with other dear friends, but i also can't help feeling awful? and the invisibility is kind of out of my control. and then also mountain goats and too many feelings and is it weird that music triggers major mood alterations? are there people for whom that is not the case? is there a way to avoid that happening? because it would probably be nice if i didn't start shaking every time i hear certain songs, or lose control of my hands and start wringing them and compulsively toying with my scarf and shit. that would be really, really nice. because i'll say i'm fine -- i'll always say i'm fine -- but agitated hands and, you know, occasionally blinking back tears tend to make people think that isn't the case

and all this is stupid, so, so stupid, because wasn't i just saying that i wanted someone to notice? people are noticing. but i don't want to rock the boat

and it's just so, so fucked all of it is so fucked this is terrible i need to go to sleep.

image
sigmastolen: (ter'angreal)
i didn't call you tonight. today was horrible and all i wanted was to ask if i could come see you and have a hug and pretend that i'm not so isolated and that people remember that i'm here and a person. but someone asked me to get a drink with her and a bunch of her friends that i'd never met and i was in the city where you live and i drove right past your apartment and i didn't call and i didn't text even though my thumb was hovering over the button and i had three separate crises about it and i almost cried. and i went to a new place and i met some new people and i had a fine time and i didn't call you and i can't tell if that's willpower or if it's just more crippling insecurity but i didn't call you and i had fun and tomorrow i'll do it all again.
sigmastolen: (Default)













You Scored as HOUSE TULLY

You hail from House Tully. Your house seat is Riverrun in the Riverlands. As your motto says, you are all about your family and honor. You confide in friends and family first, and keep strangers at a distance. You cant always stand up for yourself, but you would never betray your friends to get ahead. A true good guy in this world. Your house motto: Family, Duty, and Honor.

Picture is Copyright © RMB



HOUSE TULLY

85%

HOUSE STARK

80%

HOUSE TYRELL

75%

HOUSE LANNISTER

65%

HOUSE GREYJOY

50%

HOUSE MARTELL

50%

HOUSE ARRYN

50%

HOUSE TARGARYEN

35%

HOUSE BARATHEON

35%

HOUSE FREY

25%







I've taken this quiz twice now, once before reading the books, and both times it's called me a Tully. Lysa is cray and Edmure's a total failboat, but Cat and Brynden are pretty cool?
sigmastolen: (Default)
Okay, so I'm reading John Green's Looking for Alaska -- YA book, brilliant outcasts at a boarding school in Alabama, recommended by my brother -- and in the scene I just read, the narrator and his friends play a drinking game: Best Day/Worst Day, in which:
Everybody tells the story of their best day. The best storyteller doesn't have to drink. Then everybody tells the story of their worst day, and the best storyteller doesn't have to drink. Then we keep going, second best day, second worst day, until one of y'all quits.

Because it's nearly three and I get more introspective in the dead of night and I get most introspective when I spend all my time by myself all day every day (except for my parents and my cats, basically), I tried to think of my best and worst day. And plenty of terrible days leap to mind (the day my nana died, the day she fell and broke her hip coming to my band concert, breakups, failed exams, horrific awkwardness, goodbyes), but I have a really difficult time trying to think of "best days." I know I'm not sad all the time; I know I have friends and family who love me and do fun things with me and I know I have accomplished a lot of things to be proud of. But what does it say about me, that "best days" don't spring to mind with the same readiness as "worst days"? What does it say, that my memory glosses over good times into a haze of "yeah, that was all right;" that I have to unpack "best days" from boxes and dust them off before I know them for what they are, but "worst days" are poised for immediate recollection and polished to a high sheen?

And why is it that the absolute happiest memories are but fleeting moments of shining perfection (a kiss at sunset; the applause during a curtain call; a gripping performance; reaching an overlook and seeing the world spread out before me), but the worst memories and drag out and cast their pall over days, weeks, or even months? Even the "best days" that gradually drift to the surface are tempered with moderate-to-large amounts of melancholy, sorrow, or frustration.

But I guess the point of this post is that I have such difficulty thinking of my "best day," and I find that unspeakably sad.
sigmastolen: (Default)
One thing (of many) that I really miss about living in Davis is the Yellow-Billed Magpie:



I think I've seen a couple around my neighborhood in LB, but nothing close to the tidings of magpies I'd see in Davis daily -- and, of course, none in Pittsburgh, because the Yellow-Billed Magpie is found only in California. Anyway, I was reading about magpies on Wikipedia and it says:
This bird is extremely susceptible to West Nile virus. Between 2004 and 2006 it is estimated that 50% of all Yellow-billed Magpies died of the virus.

… And it just made me incredibly sad, that's all.
sigmastolen: (Default)
My bassoon quartet played a gig at a senior center recently. After the performance, while we were packing up, we did some Q&A with the audience. Someone asked how we all started playing bassoon, so we went around the arc to answer, and it mostly went, “it was the biggest one!” or “my band teacher conned me into it.” My story, however, went a little like this:
I used to play clarinet, and in elementary school, I was the best one. But in middle school, I stopped being the best. I didn’t like that very much, so I decided to find something new to be the best at. One day we were watching Fantasia in class, at at the beginning of the Rite of Spring sequence — you know, the one with the dinosaurs — the teacher asked us what instrument was playing the solo. I said, “Oboe!” and I was wrong: it was a bassoon. And I decided that that was the instrument for me. And nobody else at my middle school played it, so I was automatically the best again!

And power-hungry Slytherin loved those of great ambition
… I know how you guys like to tell me I'm a Ravenclaw, and it's sweet! But inaccurate.
sigmastolen: (octopus)
so potter 7.2 was pretty great. i was basically only annoyed by the things that annoyed me in the books -- no new annoyances, yay! and there were a lot of things that turned up in the film that i really appreciated. and i shed many tears (as usual). so. good film, all told. i guess i'll sleep on it and see if i have more to say tomorrow?

it really feels like the end of an era.
sigmastolen: (dalek-o-lantern)
that 90s x-men cartoon, part the first )

that 90s x-men cartoon, part the second )

full disclosure time: most of my "classic" x-men knowledge probably came from this cartoon. i didn't buy the comics until middle school, and i have not by any stretch read a great deal of the "x-men canon". trufax.
sigmastolen: (Default)
In the absence of enough brain for actual content, have a meme!

>>>SPELL YOUR FULL NAME WITHOUT AN E, F, R, S, K, I, M, L, C, A, Y, N
My (first, middle, and last) name becomes u h o.

[livejournal.com profile] tubamaphone1, I know you're laughing right now.
sigmastolen: (bassoonists do it with their thumbs)
In which I critical media studies it up and end up panning Puccini. Oops. )

But yeah. Sumptuous set and stunning costumes, though with a preponderance of Generic!Asian details and the colour red (BECAUSE THE ONLY WAY WE'LL KNOW IT'S IN CHINA IS IF EVERYTHING IS RED); very well performed by orchestra, singers, and dancers alike (EXCEPT YOU, CHORUS. YOU WERE NOT SO HOT.); and enormous problems re: racism, sexism, consent. THANKS BUT NO THANKS, PUCCINI.

And now I have to be done because, damn, it's late, and my cat has dandruff.
sigmastolen: (Default)
Dear Next-Door Neighbor,

Thanks ever so for coming home at a quarter to three and being a noisy drunk girl while I'm trying to get back to a normal sleep schedule for school on Monday. STFU, h0r. Listen to your sober friend and "get in the fucking house."

Fuck you very much,
s
sigmastolen: (bassoonists do it with their thumbs)
Dear whoever writes episode blurbs on imdb.com:

"Dance troupe" ≠ "ballet company."

kthx,
s
sigmastolen: (octopus)
Dear Eighth Grade Me,

on body image )
Don't let the bullies get you down. Don't let moving away from Davis keep you away from horses & your bike. Keep in touch with your friends, they are good people and they love you and you love them. And for the love of god learn to dress yourself in shirts that aren't plaid and oversized, and stop wearing all that cheap jewelery.

Love,
Grad-School You.
sigmastolen: (omgcrab)
Let me start by saying I don't often remember my dreams. Everyone dreams. Just, most people only remember dreams if they are awakened while dreaming, which I guess I haven't been very often, lately, because I used to have better dream recall. And, of course, somewhat unfairly, the most notable dream I've remembered of late involved being cockblocked. Twice.

That said, I've dimly remembered two dreams lately -- one the other day, and the other this afternoon (at the end of a 5-hour nap. Don't judge me, I was sleepy and angry and it wasn't productive for me to sit in a practice room and have temper tantrums every few minutes, so I went back to bed) -- that involved chicken cordon bleu.

I don't even know, you guys. I'm pretty sure I've only even had it once, maybe? But I just read something about it on the internet when I wasn't even trying to find stuff about chicken cordon bleu, and it freaked me out a little.
sigmastolen: (Default)
Things Netflix Thinks, Bizarrely, I Will Like Because I Like Battlestar Galactica
- Iphigenia, about -- guess what? -- Euripides' tale of Agamemnon sacrificing his daughter, Iphigenia.
- Breaking Bad, a TV series about a chemistry teacher-cum-meth cooker.
- My Neighbor Totoro, about fantastic critters and country life.
- Howl's Moving Castle, which. Um. I'm not sure I understand what this is supposed to be about.
- John Adams, about the founding father John Adams.
- Band of Brothers, about Easy Company. This one kind of makes sense. I guess John Adams might, too.
- The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, based on a book series that my mum reads about a sassy lady detective in Botswana.

Other Bizarre Netflix Ideas:
- The Blind Side because of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
- Good Hair because of Milk
- United States of Tara because of Milk
- Twelfth Night because of The Princess Bride, Doctor Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, and Doctor Who?

Oh, Netflix. What.

Also, strangely specific genres:
- Suspenseful Space-travel TV Shows
- Gritty Suspenseful TV Dramas
- Mind-bending Supernatural Fantasy
- Critically-acclaimed Visually-striking Cerebral Movies

Good job, Netflix.
sigmastolen: (Default)
This post brought to you by: Drano! (meaning, I'm typing this while I wait for the Drano to sit an hour to work on whatever is making my bathroom sink so slow)

In which I complain. Again. ) WORST PLUMBING ADVENTURE EVER.
sigmastolen: (omgcrab)
The semester is ending at last, and now it's crunch time for real. And yet, there's no sign of my usual sudden ability to get shit done at the last second. I don't know what it is, but my ability to focus on anything (except for playing bassoon, apparently) is nonexistent. I can't even concentrate on my distractions -- it's all, let's read something! let's draw! let's do the dishes! let's check schedules! let's watch music on youtube! let's look up song lyrics! let's wiki dead actors! let's read something else! let's have some tea! let's snack! let's draw! let's check facebook! let's fix some old drawings with hairspray so they don't smear any more! let's daydream about paper topics! let's sing! let's daydream about knitting! let's hug the cats! let's post to lj!

Just now I actually walked away from the computer in the middle of typing this and did something else for a minute. I'm on the verge of making myself a cocktail. Or drawing. Or something. I don't even know.

Maybe it's that the semester is so long? Maybe it's lulled me into complacency? Or am I just rationalizing my shortcomings, as usual?

let's talk about all the things that are about to screw me over! :D )

Also, today it has been pouring. It might snow later this week. WTF.

ALL I WANT TO DO IS PLAY BASSOON AND SLEEP
WTF HOW DID IT BECOME AFTER MIDNIGHT

Profile

sigmastolen: (Default)
sigmastolen

April 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526 272829
30      

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 23rd, 2017 02:32 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios