The English Major Armadillo is my Spirit Animal.
For context: http://fyeahenglishmajorarmadillo.tumblr.com/
Also: http://fictionalprowesspanda.tumblr.com and http://fyeahwriterleopard.tumblr.com
Oh! And then there's this one: http://psychologystudentplatypus.tumblr.com
Anyway. The weekend was alright. Cast meeting last Friday; as expected, I was the center of many jokes for having gotten wasted enough to say loads of stupid things (about making out with everyone and blowjobs, if one of them is to be believed) and puke on the cast director's carpet (and all over the deck of cards we were using to play Ring of Fire). I also wasn't allowed to drink anything other than soda or water because of said incident from two weeks ago, which was fine, I guess. Next time (time and other people I'm riding with permitting) I will probably seek to bring my own bottle of White or Cafe Zinfandel because a)then I can drink because I bought it and b)I don't get drunk on wine in the same way that I get drunk on vodka. Wine!drunk is a lot milder, much more giggly and rubber limbs. Vodka!drunk is like this evil mind control thing, except instead of robbing a bank, you just say stupid/embarrassing shit (most of which you won't remember) and puke.
I will admit, there was a point at which all the joking became kind of like, "Okay, I get it. I was stupid drunk that night. It's funny in hindsight. Now let's never speak of it again ever." And then Saturday, I had the epiphany (in a lighter period of sleep, no less!) that I was more than likely the only virgin at the party. That awkward moment when, indeed. (On the upside, it means I'll pretty much never lose a game of "I've Never" when I play with them.) The thought left me kind of cranky and irritable and I felt myself cringing (even as I sang along) every time "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" came up on my Zune or was somehow referenced. Cranky and irritable fed into constant questioning over whether or not I was just being horribly, horribly sensitive about the whole thing. Most of me thinks I am. Part of me is still deciding on it.
However! Mom and I have finally trimmed my Killjoys wig down! *____* It took a lot of untangling of the falls before she could cut them because dumbass me didn't store them properly in the bag, so I had to hear the occasional comment over how I'm impatient and how the wig was so expensive, etc, etc. I also had to hear again about her nervousness concerning my travel arrangements--namely, who I'm traveling with. (It's past midnight; the EMA will pardon my ending the previous sentence with a preposition.) I don't know if her maternal programming causes her to forget that she raised me to have good people sense or what, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have agreed to travel with Mari and her boyfriend if I thought she was going to harvest my organs for the black market (which we actually jokingly discussed on Twitter tonight. I should show it to my mom and measure the strength of her disapproving look). Besides, I've seen her. I could totally take her. Also? I carry a small knife with a serrated edge in my purse at all times.
I'm not weird for wanting to tell her this, right? Even with the understanding that she's my mother and she's always going to worry, I'm twenty-three going on twenty-four. And part of the reason I agreed to ride with Mari was so that my parents wouldn't have to spend money on gas and a hotel room that we as a family can't really spare. (I'm saving money aside for the trip, but that's completely different.) Now my mom's all, "I'm really tempted to drive you up there myself..."
No. No. If it will make her feel better, I will try to arrange a meetup with Mariah over Spring Break. Anything of that sort to secure that I have the independence and the normalcy I'm trying to cultivate for myself.
Um. Here have a dance party before I ramble about how Vista is taking its sweet, sweet time to mail my transcripts to SVA:
This song is currently my mood booster. "Hold it, Spy! Don't touch that Sentry! Dammit! Gotta move that gear!" I was listening to it on campus after class and dancing all the way to the van. I'm sure someone thought I was on something. Also? My phone now declares, "Spy sappin' mah Sentry!" when I get a text message. ^^; (Shut up, it's awesome.) I've delegated "Testify!" to my V&V castmates, and I think I'll probably get a Pyro sound effect for when Sally texts me, since she plays mostly Pyro. Then for my brother I'll get either Sniper or Spy (because I'm pretty sure those are his usual classes) and for my Dad I'll find one of the Soldier sound clips.
For the record, I still am pondering a Sentry cake for my birthday. Maybe with a panda sitting on it.
Y'know, I think I'll leave the post here, seeing as it's 1am (even though I'm suddenly overcome with energy; WTF). I'm not really in the mood to grumble about the transcripts issue (though issue it is), and though I'm tempted, I'm not really in the mood to write a reflection of how I feel about what I've read on depression in the Mood Disorders chapter this week. But it's definitely made me start to think--in a good way, though! I don't foresee any massive, scarily overtaking depressive moods in my immediate future.
Also: http://fictionalprowesspanda.tumblr.com and http://fyeahwriterleopard.tumblr.com
Oh! And then there's this one: http://psychologystudentplatypus.tumblr.com
Anyway. The weekend was alright. Cast meeting last Friday; as expected, I was the center of many jokes for having gotten wasted enough to say loads of stupid things (about making out with everyone and blowjobs, if one of them is to be believed) and puke on the cast director's carpet (and all over the deck of cards we were using to play Ring of Fire). I also wasn't allowed to drink anything other than soda or water because of said incident from two weeks ago, which was fine, I guess. Next time (time and other people I'm riding with permitting) I will probably seek to bring my own bottle of White or Cafe Zinfandel because a)then I can drink because I bought it and b)I don't get drunk on wine in the same way that I get drunk on vodka. Wine!drunk is a lot milder, much more giggly and rubber limbs. Vodka!drunk is like this evil mind control thing, except instead of robbing a bank, you just say stupid/embarrassing shit (most of which you won't remember) and puke.
I will admit, there was a point at which all the joking became kind of like, "Okay, I get it. I was stupid drunk that night. It's funny in hindsight. Now let's never speak of it again ever." And then Saturday, I had the epiphany (in a lighter period of sleep, no less!) that I was more than likely the only virgin at the party. That awkward moment when, indeed. (On the upside, it means I'll pretty much never lose a game of "I've Never" when I play with them.) The thought left me kind of cranky and irritable and I felt myself cringing (even as I sang along) every time "That Joke Isn't Funny Anymore" came up on my Zune or was somehow referenced. Cranky and irritable fed into constant questioning over whether or not I was just being horribly, horribly sensitive about the whole thing. Most of me thinks I am. Part of me is still deciding on it.
However! Mom and I have finally trimmed my Killjoys wig down! *____* It took a lot of untangling of the falls before she could cut them because dumbass me didn't store them properly in the bag, so I had to hear the occasional comment over how I'm impatient and how the wig was so expensive, etc, etc. I also had to hear again about her nervousness concerning my travel arrangements--namely, who I'm traveling with. (It's past midnight; the EMA will pardon my ending the previous sentence with a preposition.) I don't know if her maternal programming causes her to forget that she raised me to have good people sense or what, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have agreed to travel with Mari and her boyfriend if I thought she was going to harvest my organs for the black market (which we actually jokingly discussed on Twitter tonight. I should show it to my mom and measure the strength of her disapproving look). Besides, I've seen her. I could totally take her. Also? I carry a small knife with a serrated edge in my purse at all times.
I'm not weird for wanting to tell her this, right? Even with the understanding that she's my mother and she's always going to worry, I'm twenty-three going on twenty-four. And part of the reason I agreed to ride with Mari was so that my parents wouldn't have to spend money on gas and a hotel room that we as a family can't really spare. (I'm saving money aside for the trip, but that's completely different.) Now my mom's all, "I'm really tempted to drive you up there myself..."
No. No. If it will make her feel better, I will try to arrange a meetup with Mariah over Spring Break. Anything of that sort to secure that I have the independence and the normalcy I'm trying to cultivate for myself.
Um. Here have a dance party before I ramble about how Vista is taking its sweet, sweet time to mail my transcripts to SVA:
Click to viewThis song is currently my mood booster. "Hold it, Spy! Don't touch that Sentry! Dammit! Gotta move that gear!" I was listening to it on campus after class and dancing all the way to the van. I'm sure someone thought I was on something. Also? My phone now declares, "Spy sappin' mah Sentry!" when I get a text message. ^^; (Shut up, it's awesome.) I've delegated "Testify!" to my V&V castmates, and I think I'll probably get a Pyro sound effect for when Sally texts me, since she plays mostly Pyro. Then for my brother I'll get either Sniper or Spy (because I'm pretty sure those are his usual classes) and for my Dad I'll find one of the Soldier sound clips.
For the record, I still am pondering a Sentry cake for my birthday. Maybe with a panda sitting on it.
Y'know, I think I'll leave the post here, seeing as it's 1am (even though I'm suddenly overcome with energy; WTF). I'm not really in the mood to grumble about the transcripts issue (though issue it is), and though I'm tempted, I'm not really in the mood to write a reflection of how I feel about what I've read on depression in the Mood Disorders chapter this week. But it's definitely made me start to think--in a good way, though! I don't foresee any massive, scarily overtaking depressive moods in my immediate future.