nothing much interesting
That's what's going on here, nothing much interesting...a whole lot of nothing much interesting, which is why I haven't blogged for a while.
I can't recall if I said before, but I'll risk repeating myself. I'm taking four courses in school this quarter, Digital Illustration I, Typography I, Drawing II, and Organizational Behavior. That last one is about human relations and is eating my brain. The first one is eating my life. Drawing is interesting, but I'm so slow! I wonder if I'd be faster if I were younger.
Yesterday I was in the Mac Lab working on the Godzilla Galapagos Guava project. There was a second year class in progress, so I had my earbuds in, but I heard the instructor say, "You all grew up with computers." He's about--guessing--ten years younger than I am. I tried to shoot daggers at him with my eyes, but apparently the eyedagger quiver was empty, or else just old and too decrepit to fire. Well that, or he just couldn't see me all the way in the back row.
Dude. I grew up with three black and white tv channels full of snow, and a bakelite wall phone with a three foot cord. Nary a computer in sight. In fact, they put computers in my high school the year I went to JVS, and they were installing the computers at the JVS as I graduated. And honestly, having come to my smallish quantity of geekery late in life, I don't consider missing out on those dinosaurs to be all that much of a loss.
Ok, so swamped with school work, and taxi work. I'm going to try to send (my youngest) Zor to driver's ed next summer, so she can occasionally free me up by transporting herself places. Next year the school goes from quarters to semesters, and I'll have to take five classes instead of four, so I anticipate everything that's overwhelming this year to be even more so next.
Next up, hamsters. I had originally kept one hamster, Dmitri. When he died of old age, I let myself be talked into getting two, because dwarf hamsters are allegedly so social. And thus I ended up with ten. Two of the babies didn't survive, but six did, bringing the total to eight. After much angst, I rehomed four, and kept four. The parents Zandy (male) and Lita (female), and two babies, Algernon and Rocky (both female.) Algernon and Lita co-habitated in the nursery bin, and Rocky and Zandy had their own cages. But Algernon had developed a habit of chasing Lita around the cage, which was bizarre in my opinion, because Zandy got his own cage because Lita was beating him up. (Rocky got her own cage because one of her siblings gave her a bloody nose.) Anyhow, on Saturday I ordered two more Dmitri-style cages from Amazon. And on Wednesday I found Lita dead under the bedding of her cage.
I have no idea why; there were no signs of injury.
On that day there was also an outbreak of excruciating personal drama I don't feel right sharing (which might tell you something right there, since you may have realized I am the Empress of TMI.) And I received a rejection letter.
I know we're not supposed to blog about those, but I mention it because, unlike other rejections I have received, this one stung, and I'm not sure why. No one rejection has ever hurt my feelings before. This was a form letter; it even said in the body of the letter, "This is a form letter." There was nothing hurtful about the phrasing. I'm not sure if the sting came from the fact that this was an agent I particularly hoped to land, or from all the other events of the day, or because it was a camel straw, but it knocked me for an emotional loop. I found myself relieved to bury myself in my drawing class project.
...
So this blog entry has been open on my laptop for three days, and I have no idea how to close it. I finished my drawing project and my exam, but missed the quiz by forgetting what day I was supposed to take it. The new cages arrived, and the rodents are installed therein. There was another minor disaster (by which I mean a loss of time) when two of the new water bottles leaked and both new cages had to be changed again the day after the new residents moved into them. I have two extra cages now, and the inner voice that whispers, "HOARDER!" can just shut up, because I didn't need cages until I needed cages.
These are the sweetest, mellowest hamsters in the history of hamsters. They are like powder puffs with faces. Pygmy tribbles.
So. My thoughts are distracted and fragmented, and I still haven't figured out how to end this. I'll just say, til next time, later, taters.
Yum. Taters.
With a side of commas...
I can't recall if I said before, but I'll risk repeating myself. I'm taking four courses in school this quarter, Digital Illustration I, Typography I, Drawing II, and Organizational Behavior. That last one is about human relations and is eating my brain. The first one is eating my life. Drawing is interesting, but I'm so slow! I wonder if I'd be faster if I were younger.
Yesterday I was in the Mac Lab working on the Godzilla Galapagos Guava project. There was a second year class in progress, so I had my earbuds in, but I heard the instructor say, "You all grew up with computers." He's about--guessing--ten years younger than I am. I tried to shoot daggers at him with my eyes, but apparently the eyedagger quiver was empty, or else just old and too decrepit to fire. Well that, or he just couldn't see me all the way in the back row.
Dude. I grew up with three black and white tv channels full of snow, and a bakelite wall phone with a three foot cord. Nary a computer in sight. In fact, they put computers in my high school the year I went to JVS, and they were installing the computers at the JVS as I graduated. And honestly, having come to my smallish quantity of geekery late in life, I don't consider missing out on those dinosaurs to be all that much of a loss.
Ok, so swamped with school work, and taxi work. I'm going to try to send (my youngest) Zor to driver's ed next summer, so she can occasionally free me up by transporting herself places. Next year the school goes from quarters to semesters, and I'll have to take five classes instead of four, so I anticipate everything that's overwhelming this year to be even more so next.
Next up, hamsters. I had originally kept one hamster, Dmitri. When he died of old age, I let myself be talked into getting two, because dwarf hamsters are allegedly so social. And thus I ended up with ten. Two of the babies didn't survive, but six did, bringing the total to eight. After much angst, I rehomed four, and kept four. The parents Zandy (male) and Lita (female), and two babies, Algernon and Rocky (both female.) Algernon and Lita co-habitated in the nursery bin, and Rocky and Zandy had their own cages. But Algernon had developed a habit of chasing Lita around the cage, which was bizarre in my opinion, because Zandy got his own cage because Lita was beating him up. (Rocky got her own cage because one of her siblings gave her a bloody nose.) Anyhow, on Saturday I ordered two more Dmitri-style cages from Amazon. And on Wednesday I found Lita dead under the bedding of her cage.
I have no idea why; there were no signs of injury.
On that day there was also an outbreak of excruciating personal drama I don't feel right sharing (which might tell you something right there, since you may have realized I am the Empress of TMI.) And I received a rejection letter.
I know we're not supposed to blog about those, but I mention it because, unlike other rejections I have received, this one stung, and I'm not sure why. No one rejection has ever hurt my feelings before. This was a form letter; it even said in the body of the letter, "This is a form letter." There was nothing hurtful about the phrasing. I'm not sure if the sting came from the fact that this was an agent I particularly hoped to land, or from all the other events of the day, or because it was a camel straw, but it knocked me for an emotional loop. I found myself relieved to bury myself in my drawing class project.
...
So this blog entry has been open on my laptop for three days, and I have no idea how to close it. I finished my drawing project and my exam, but missed the quiz by forgetting what day I was supposed to take it. The new cages arrived, and the rodents are installed therein. There was another minor disaster (by which I mean a loss of time) when two of the new water bottles leaked and both new cages had to be changed again the day after the new residents moved into them. I have two extra cages now, and the inner voice that whispers, "HOARDER!" can just shut up, because I didn't need cages until I needed cages.
These are the sweetest, mellowest hamsters in the history of hamsters. They are like powder puffs with faces. Pygmy tribbles.
So. My thoughts are distracted and fragmented, and I still haven't figured out how to end this. I'll just say, til next time, later, taters.
Yum. Taters.
With a side of commas...