"He's like fire, and ice, and rage..."
LJ I HATE YOU SOMETIMES. REALLY I DO.
Honestly I just want to shut this off and go read shit I'm supposed to be reading, or do shit I'm supposed to be doing, but I realize that if I don't document what happened this last month today, I probably never will. So, here we go again.
My July V.1.2
WORK
One of the more memorable things that happened at work is that some of my students and I had a moderately exciting experience during our trip to UP to watch Orosman at Zafira, a play by the long-dead Francisco Baltazar/Balagtas famous for his super-multi-syllabic romances so incomprehensible that you have the follow the story through the action alone. My "friends" (oustide DLSC we are all just tards on a roadtrip) had a nice bit of a shock near the end of the play, where upper garments flew and bosoms bounced out in anger and blood. But what really caught my eye was the glistening chests of the men, who turned out to be more glistening in real life. I lol'd at my DLSC people's faces as they excitedly waited for the actor playing Orosman, only to find out that he bends the other way. To quote one of them, "life is so unfair, Miss."
Me, I don't give a crap which way he bends. If I ever get a chance to watch it again, I will definitely have a picture with my arms around Orosman's sparkling pectorals, gay or no.
On the 28th my Performance Lit class will be having a small prod of Warlock's Hairy Heart and The Three Brothers. Here's to hoping they don't kill each other before then. And then Art and Music class will have a classroom exhibit, complete with musical performances. Speaking of which, RECOMMEND A NICE FILM WE CAN WATCH. Art Studies-themed if you don't mind. Just not Da Vinci Code.
ACADS
The whole point of me doing this journal entry is to prepare myself for some epic typing that'll happen tonight. I even clipped my fingernails to the hilt especially for an evening of bleeding my hands off. Because, hey, what do we have here. CERTAIN DEATH.
Eng 244 - requires a report on Ursula Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness, and a separate paper on an anthology of her short stories. Many thanks to mushroom18 for lending me her book; which, by the way, Ma'am Arambulo also wants to borrow ;o; I hope there's a copy in the CAL lib though (just did a quick chech on iLib, and it's not. FFF.) That plus the fact that we need to read every single novel/poem that's going to be discussed is enough to reduce my brain to bits. BUT WE SHALL ENDURE.
CW 250 - Manny and Matu will be done this evening or I will hurt somebody, most probably myself. LJ finger warm-up should do the trick before I dive into it. INSPIRE MEEEEEE.
CL 302 - You remember that bit about my brain being reduced to bits? This happens regularly during Comparative Lit class. Thank God the professor is just that brilliant, I don't find myself getting lost as much as I would have without her. BUT STILL. My final paper in this class is a study of the entire Sandman series, and how Asian gods/characters/practices are portrayed in this British graphic novel. I mean, I love Neil Gaiman and all, but if I knew what bit of British culture I'd be obsessed with this month, my paper would have taken an entirely different direction. And so now we get there...
FANDOM
As much as my fingers would like to spazz (ALL OVER AGAIN) incoherently in this journal, I still possess a certain amount of control over them, and as such I'd like to do this as orderly as possible.
ToHo were in Malaysia recently, which is the closest they have come to my own country, and I am ashamed to admit that I have not watched any video clip relating to their little stint on World Stage. I have, however, seen Tom's Reebok adventures, and while he does look exceptionally delicious in a lot of the shots, it's also like he's aging backward O: Maybe it's just me, but I like my Tom with a little bit of manliness/aging/iunno. I'm not a big fan of him having Bill-like skin/eyebrows/etc (even if I absolutely adore it on Bill ;O;). Who knows, in a couple of years.
Merlin will be coming back to the airwaves this September, and if I want my academic existence to prosper, I must not watch a single bit of it until the end of term. If I do, I just have a feeling that everything will take a backseat next to Colin Morgan's pouty lips, which I was reminded of every single time I watched Shercocklock. The BBC is horrible for people who should be busy getting their lives in order.
And so we get to the main point of this entry: DOCTOR MUCKING WHO.
When I saw the fifth season, I thought that was it: the Eleventh Doctor is the man I will marry. Not to mention that he had the most awesome companions ever in the Ponds. And just all those heartbreaking scenes with Vincent, and little girls sitting on suitcases, and waiting and waiting and waiting, and Bob, I absolutely love Bob. And so yes, I thought, this is the pinnacle of the show, and whatever Series 1-4 has to dish out is nothing compared to Matt Smith's Doctor.
This is one of those times where I am delighted to say that I have never been more wrong.
My favorite companion, ALONE, is still a contest between Martha and Donna. They just kick butt, especially when Donna transforms into DD. And Martha's unrequited love for the Doctor squeezes my insides every time, and while I loved Human Nature, I despised everyone in that episode except her. MARTHA ILU.
Bu the thing is, while as separate people they were all fantastic, my favorite Companion-for-the-Doctor is Rose Tyler. If I had a TARDIS and saw this entry while I was still watching the beginnings of series one, I'd have asked if my brain finally melted after Kumkum Sangari. I couldn't care less about Rose at that time and was waiting expectantly for Catherine Tate to replace her (all because of Our John is a Gay Man Now). Billie Piper was an annoying blond girl who treats her boyfriend like crap. But at the end of series one, and when she entered into series to with the Tenth...
The Tenth Doctor. David Ten-inch. Possibly gay. Definitely and unbearably hot. His chemistry with Billie Piper is just so intense that it burns suns (see what I did thar~). And while Classic Whovians despise him for being too human-like and un-Doctor-like, that, for me, was what took the cake. He could make me laugh and amaze me and terrify me all at once. Christopher Eccleston's Ninth was already way more that I could have hoped after seeing Matt Smith's Eleventh, and Tenth just left me wibbling for weeks. As I said to kyoy , I found the secret to summoning instant tears; just imagining Tenth and Rose separated forever and not instantly stings my eyeballs, like what it's doing now. And, yeah, in the end Mickey had a better deal that she did, probably. I don't know, that Rose Tyler spin-off didn't fly /wrists
I'm totally looking forward to going to class for Eng 244, because my classmate there'll give me a copy of David's Hamlet, plus several other videos in relation to either David Tennant or Doctor Who, because he's just awesome like that.
To quote from Family of the Blood:
He's like fire, and ice, and rage..
He's like the night, and the storm at the heart of the sun..
He is ancient and forever..
He burns at the center of time, and he can see the turn of the Universe..
And.. he's wonderful.♥
+++
I guess that's it for now. My fingers are sufficiently warmed up. Just a few afterthoughts...
* I SUCCESSFULLY FINISHED MY FIRST REFORMAT. Many thanks to Cyrod for giving me the license and tindercrest and fewmany for explaining the finer points of x64 and x86.
* I have some plans in my head that could change the course of my life in a big way, but I think I'll go by what Reya said and not discuss things until every little detail is pressed and ready to be sent to the closet. Maybe it'll come to nothing, maybe it will be everything. We'll just have to wait and see.
* In my attempts to find perspective, minimizing my own "problems" by viewing it next to the problems of the world, I find that I block myself from having being able to write anything. And while yes, I still believe that starving children is worse than your parents grounding you from this weekend's booze-party and being "misunderstood" (aren't we all), I guess I also need to ponder on things that upset me and why it does, and not just flick it away as insignificant.
Honestly I just want to shut this off and go read shit I'm supposed to be reading, or do shit I'm supposed to be doing, but I realize that if I don't document what happened this last month today, I probably never will. So, here we go again.
My July V.1.2
WORK
One of the more memorable things that happened at work is that some of my students and I had a moderately exciting experience during our trip to UP to watch Orosman at Zafira, a play by the long-dead Francisco Baltazar/Balagtas famous for his super-multi-syllabic romances so incomprehensible that you have the follow the story through the action alone. My "friends" (oustide DLSC we are all just tards on a roadtrip) had a nice bit of a shock near the end of the play, where upper garments flew and bosoms bounced out in anger and blood. But what really caught my eye was the glistening chests of the men, who turned out to be more glistening in real life. I lol'd at my DLSC people's faces as they excitedly waited for the actor playing Orosman, only to find out that he bends the other way. To quote one of them, "life is so unfair, Miss."
Me, I don't give a crap which way he bends. If I ever get a chance to watch it again, I will definitely have a picture with my arms around Orosman's sparkling pectorals, gay or no.
On the 28th my Performance Lit class will be having a small prod of Warlock's Hairy Heart and The Three Brothers. Here's to hoping they don't kill each other before then. And then Art and Music class will have a classroom exhibit, complete with musical performances. Speaking of which, RECOMMEND A NICE FILM WE CAN WATCH. Art Studies-themed if you don't mind. Just not Da Vinci Code.
ACADS
The whole point of me doing this journal entry is to prepare myself for some epic typing that'll happen tonight. I even clipped my fingernails to the hilt especially for an evening of bleeding my hands off. Because, hey, what do we have here. CERTAIN DEATH.
Eng 244 - requires a report on Ursula Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness, and a separate paper on an anthology of her short stories. Many thanks to mushroom18 for lending me her book; which, by the way, Ma'am Arambulo also wants to borrow ;o; I hope there's a copy in the CAL lib though (just did a quick chech on iLib, and it's not. FFF.) That plus the fact that we need to read every single novel/poem that's going to be discussed is enough to reduce my brain to bits. BUT WE SHALL ENDURE.
CW 250 - Manny and Matu will be done this evening or I will hurt somebody, most probably myself. LJ finger warm-up should do the trick before I dive into it. INSPIRE MEEEEEE.
CL 302 - You remember that bit about my brain being reduced to bits? This happens regularly during Comparative Lit class. Thank God the professor is just that brilliant, I don't find myself getting lost as much as I would have without her. BUT STILL. My final paper in this class is a study of the entire Sandman series, and how Asian gods/characters/practices are portrayed in this British graphic novel. I mean, I love Neil Gaiman and all, but if I knew what bit of British culture I'd be obsessed with this month, my paper would have taken an entirely different direction. And so now we get there...
FANDOM
As much as my fingers would like to spazz (ALL OVER AGAIN) incoherently in this journal, I still possess a certain amount of control over them, and as such I'd like to do this as orderly as possible.
ToHo were in Malaysia recently, which is the closest they have come to my own country, and I am ashamed to admit that I have not watched any video clip relating to their little stint on World Stage. I have, however, seen Tom's Reebok adventures, and while he does look exceptionally delicious in a lot of the shots, it's also like he's aging backward O: Maybe it's just me, but I like my Tom with a little bit of manliness/aging/iunno. I'm not a big fan of him having Bill-like skin/eyebrows/etc (even if I absolutely adore it on Bill ;O;). Who knows, in a couple of years.
Merlin will be coming back to the airwaves this September, and if I want my academic existence to prosper, I must not watch a single bit of it until the end of term. If I do, I just have a feeling that everything will take a backseat next to Colin Morgan's pouty lips, which I was reminded of every single time I watched Shercocklock. The BBC is horrible for people who should be busy getting their lives in order.
And so we get to the main point of this entry: DOCTOR MUCKING WHO.
When I saw the fifth season, I thought that was it: the Eleventh Doctor is the man I will marry. Not to mention that he had the most awesome companions ever in the Ponds. And just all those heartbreaking scenes with Vincent, and little girls sitting on suitcases, and waiting and waiting and waiting, and Bob, I absolutely love Bob. And so yes, I thought, this is the pinnacle of the show, and whatever Series 1-4 has to dish out is nothing compared to Matt Smith's Doctor.
This is one of those times where I am delighted to say that I have never been more wrong.
My favorite companion, ALONE, is still a contest between Martha and Donna. They just kick butt, especially when Donna transforms into DD. And Martha's unrequited love for the Doctor squeezes my insides every time, and while I loved Human Nature, I despised everyone in that episode except her. MARTHA ILU.
Bu the thing is, while as separate people they were all fantastic, my favorite Companion-for-the-Doctor is Rose Tyler. If I had a TARDIS and saw this entry while I was still watching the beginnings of series one, I'd have asked if my brain finally melted after Kumkum Sangari. I couldn't care less about Rose at that time and was waiting expectantly for Catherine Tate to replace her (all because of Our John is a Gay Man Now). Billie Piper was an annoying blond girl who treats her boyfriend like crap. But at the end of series one, and when she entered into series to with the Tenth...
The Tenth Doctor. David Ten-inch. Possibly gay. Definitely and unbearably hot. His chemistry with Billie Piper is just so intense that it burns suns (see what I did thar~). And while Classic Whovians despise him for being too human-like and un-Doctor-like, that, for me, was what took the cake. He could make me laugh and amaze me and terrify me all at once. Christopher Eccleston's Ninth was already way more that I could have hoped after seeing Matt Smith's Eleventh, and Tenth just left me wibbling for weeks. As I said to kyoy , I found the secret to summoning instant tears; just imagining Tenth and Rose separated forever and not instantly stings my eyeballs, like what it's doing now. And, yeah, in the end Mickey had a better deal that she did, probably. I don't know, that Rose Tyler spin-off didn't fly /wrists
I'm totally looking forward to going to class for Eng 244, because my classmate there'll give me a copy of David's Hamlet, plus several other videos in relation to either David Tennant or Doctor Who, because he's just awesome like that.
To quote from Family of the Blood:
He's like fire, and ice, and rage..
He's like the night, and the storm at the heart of the sun..
He is ancient and forever..
He burns at the center of time, and he can see the turn of the Universe..
And.. he's wonderful.♥
+++
I guess that's it for now. My fingers are sufficiently warmed up. Just a few afterthoughts...
* I SUCCESSFULLY FINISHED MY FIRST REFORMAT. Many thanks to Cyrod for giving me the license and tindercrest and fewmany for explaining the finer points of x64 and x86.
* I have some plans in my head that could change the course of my life in a big way, but I think I'll go by what Reya said and not discuss things until every little detail is pressed and ready to be sent to the closet. Maybe it'll come to nothing, maybe it will be everything. We'll just have to wait and see.
* In my attempts to find perspective, minimizing my own "problems" by viewing it next to the problems of the world, I find that I block myself from having being able to write anything. And while yes, I still believe that starving children is worse than your parents grounding you from this weekend's booze-party and being "misunderstood" (aren't we all), I guess I also need to ponder on things that upset me and why it does, and not just flick it away as insignificant.