medea & memes & more than you wanted to know.
Day One: Ten things you want to say to ten different people right now.
Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn offs.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.
soonerbee, I hope you're satisfied: you once predicted that were I to do this meme I'd squirm & forget everything interesting about myself--
1. One morning in the spring, when I was maybe nine or so, I woke up to discover I had eyebrows. Yes, really. I mean, they'd vaguely been present before, but barely visible. It was the damnedest thing.
2. I distinctly recall inventing a religion back in first grade, complete with rituals, a goddess & a few prophets, and a great reverence for brick-paved paths and certain madrona trees in my elementary school's play area. In time all but the goddess dissolved, but said goddess eventually metamorphosed into a kind of conscience-figure. With whom, I hasten to add, I had guilty conversations for many years. Lots of bargaining: "Look, Ismé, if I do this, I won't do this." "Is that so." "Yeah! Yes. That is so true. And if I do this, will you make this happen?" "Honestly? Probably not." "..." As time went on, she became more and more sardonic. I don't think I really stopped 'consulting' her until sometime in sophomore year of high school. :/
3. That said, I'd describe myself as a lifelong & wistful agnostic. With a big ol' crush on a defunct pantheon or two. Well. You know which one.
4. My taste in weather, & the reaction of my moods to weather, seems to be the opposite of normal--sun makes me angst, & rain & wind & snow & clouds put me in good spirits. This has led to several of my friends concluding that I am, in fact, a vampire. I feel bound to point out that several beloved vampires of fictional note have demonstrated their ability to angst no matter what the weather.
5. I have unusually large feet. They make shoe-shopping a bit of a trial, but nowadays I use them to display loud, strange socks. I have some with confused-looking fuzzy sheep on them. They are my lucky socks, & have consistently brought me good fortune. :x
6. When I first realized I was bisexual, my first reaction was something along the lines "O! Splendid. Now I can look like an idiot in new and exciting ways!" (This proved to be entirely correct. xD)
7. Leave me in an empty house, & two sounds will inevitably fill it: absurdly dramatic songs from musicals, and dialogues between myriad imaginary people (who all seem to have my voice). The latter really helps me improvise & plot conversations so they sound more natural/have more momentum, though if you catch me at it I look like a crazy person.
8. I catch accents/diction/syntax/speech patterns the way most people catch colds. I walk out of movie theaters, therefore, sounding REALLY strange if I don't watch myself. xD When I visited London, I was having to make a conscious effort 24/7 not to imitate all the accents I heard whenever I opened my mouth and sound like a huge poser. This also means that my speech patterns are cobbled-together and wacky: a mishmash of everyone I listen to on a regular basis plus my core impulse. The latter's pretty weird as it is, too. Kinda influenced by academic and/or vaguely poetic language, but also loopy and distracted and leaping from octave to octave without warning. I end up saying things like "Ahhh, omigawd, these, like...lacunae, what the fuck. This one. The abyss of my despair; I'm going to curl up and perish at the bottom of it now, shall I; ugh, tea needs to happen."
9. It's really difficult for me to stay woebegone or wrathful for very long, because I don't have the concentration. |D Trains of thought like this: Oh, miserable me, I can't do it, I can't! this is just...I'm so...no matter what, it's going t Oh God I love cranberry juice. Mmm. Or Aah! I can't believe she said that! What?! That's it. I'm never going to forgi awwwww, baby aardvark! :D
...and a little anteater too. :x Can't even deal with the cute. It. It's so itty and its climbing skills are so dubious.
It bears mentioning that I don't think of myself as tremendously interesting or--hm, difficult or complicated or what-have-you. Because I spend all day & all night lounging around in my own head, and we've gotten a little weary of one another. "Oh--it's you again," I greet myself in mirrors & periods of vague introspection. It's not that I think I'm dull, per se. I just think that the imaginary people racketing around in here are a good deal more interesting. O, and you all too. ♥
Medea was last night! I think it went really well. People who came seemed to like it a lot--a couple friends/acquaintances told me I was frightening, which was rather the point, and such a relief, because I'm always frightened I can't do frightening. You know me. It was a really challenging part for me for that reason. Not only a truckload of super-intense and/or violent emotions, but shifting gears four or five times in the space of ten minutes (or one monologue!). D-desperate helplessness RAGE! RAGE! disgust fawwww~~ning? prophecy. ...regret. Icy resolution. Rinse & repeat. Put me through a wringer. & that's not to mention the Greek! but I'm really pleased with how it all turned out, & the entire cast & crew kicked ass.
...And now it's over. Post-play strangeness strikes again. All those weeks of pacing around the livingroom shouting Greek at lamps and it's finished in a day. The end of the semester's still more alarming. Time! Aaaa! One more semester?!?! What?! Aaaaaaaaaaaaa!
...& speaking of things that make me go "Aaaa", Goodbye Chains has done it again. Colin: you're stupendous. I love you. Waiting for Tuesday is going to be a hell.
Bizarrely enough, Goodbye Chains has been my one respite from Webcomics Woe this month--Red String? Penny & Aggie? Gunnerkrigg Court? It's like they all became incredibly tense and depressing at once! What gives? What's winter done to writers? I haven't been doing that much writing myself as of late, but none of it's been this distressing. I discovered that someone was a charmingly bad letter-writer & that someone else is eagerly anticipating the composition of his own elegy--that's about it.
OK. Back to Greek. 189 lines to go and I've finished banging through the Bacchae. !!! What.
♥
E.
P.S. ...Greek. That reminds me, I have a potentially amusing anecdote for you about what happened after the play last night.
1. Returning from the play, I decided to have a glass of wine to congratulate myself.
2. Upon attempting to remove the cork from the (already opened) bottle, however, the darn cork broke in half. Flimsy nonsense!
3. So I figured: this is a job for a corkscrew. But alas, it was nowhere to be found.
4. Ruth, however, offered the use of her knife for the task.
5. So I oh-so-deftly wielded it and had nearly succeeded in removing the cork...
6. ...when I apparently decided that slicing open my thumb was a much better idea.
7. And that's when I started giggling. Here's why:
7a. My hands were already significantly stained with fake blood from the play.
7b. My (real) blood, now splotching itself unpleasantly on the counter, was nearly the exact same shade as not only the fake blood but the wine I'd been trying to reach.
7c. I'd spent the entire afternoon translating a long passage about the god of wine causing bloodshed.
:x
...To add insult to injury, the damn corkscrew was on top of the microwave in plain sight the entire time. |D I did use it (with Ruth's help) to remove the cork and obtain the wine which at that point I felt was richly deserved. Had an evening of wine and Wensleydale with cranberries and being a nerd & all was well (except for the large and cumbersome bandage on my right thumb, which is making my handwriting significantly worse). But. What! Weird symmetry.
Day Two: Nine things about yourself.
Day Three: Eight ways to win your heart.
Day Four: Seven things that cross your mind a lot.
Day Five: Six things you wish you’d never done.
Day Six: Five people who mean a lot (in no order whatsoever)
Day Seven: Four turn offs.
Day Eight: Three turn ons.
Day Nine: Two images that describe your life right now, and why.
Day Ten: One confession.
soonerbee, I hope you're satisfied: you once predicted that were I to do this meme I'd squirm & forget everything interesting about myself--
1. One morning in the spring, when I was maybe nine or so, I woke up to discover I had eyebrows. Yes, really. I mean, they'd vaguely been present before, but barely visible. It was the damnedest thing.
2. I distinctly recall inventing a religion back in first grade, complete with rituals, a goddess & a few prophets, and a great reverence for brick-paved paths and certain madrona trees in my elementary school's play area. In time all but the goddess dissolved, but said goddess eventually metamorphosed into a kind of conscience-figure. With whom, I hasten to add, I had guilty conversations for many years. Lots of bargaining: "Look, Ismé, if I do this, I won't do this." "Is that so." "Yeah! Yes. That is so true. And if I do this, will you make this happen?" "Honestly? Probably not." "..." As time went on, she became more and more sardonic. I don't think I really stopped 'consulting' her until sometime in sophomore year of high school. :/
3. That said, I'd describe myself as a lifelong & wistful agnostic. With a big ol' crush on a defunct pantheon or two. Well. You know which one.
4. My taste in weather, & the reaction of my moods to weather, seems to be the opposite of normal--sun makes me angst, & rain & wind & snow & clouds put me in good spirits. This has led to several of my friends concluding that I am, in fact, a vampire. I feel bound to point out that several beloved vampires of fictional note have demonstrated their ability to angst no matter what the weather.
5. I have unusually large feet. They make shoe-shopping a bit of a trial, but nowadays I use them to display loud, strange socks. I have some with confused-looking fuzzy sheep on them. They are my lucky socks, & have consistently brought me good fortune. :x
6. When I first realized I was bisexual, my first reaction was something along the lines "O! Splendid. Now I can look like an idiot in new and exciting ways!" (This proved to be entirely correct. xD)
7. Leave me in an empty house, & two sounds will inevitably fill it: absurdly dramatic songs from musicals, and dialogues between myriad imaginary people (who all seem to have my voice). The latter really helps me improvise & plot conversations so they sound more natural/have more momentum, though if you catch me at it I look like a crazy person.
8. I catch accents/diction/syntax/speech patterns the way most people catch colds. I walk out of movie theaters, therefore, sounding REALLY strange if I don't watch myself. xD When I visited London, I was having to make a conscious effort 24/7 not to imitate all the accents I heard whenever I opened my mouth and sound like a huge poser. This also means that my speech patterns are cobbled-together and wacky: a mishmash of everyone I listen to on a regular basis plus my core impulse. The latter's pretty weird as it is, too. Kinda influenced by academic and/or vaguely poetic language, but also loopy and distracted and leaping from octave to octave without warning. I end up saying things like "Ahhh, omigawd, these, like...lacunae, what the fuck. This one. The abyss of my despair; I'm going to curl up and perish at the bottom of it now, shall I; ugh, tea needs to happen."
9. It's really difficult for me to stay woebegone or wrathful for very long, because I don't have the concentration. |D Trains of thought like this: Oh, miserable me, I can't do it, I can't! this is just...I'm so...no matter what, it's going t Oh God I love cranberry juice. Mmm. Or Aah! I can't believe she said that! What?! That's it. I'm never going to forgi awwwww, baby aardvark! :D
...and a little anteater too. :x Can't even deal with the cute. It. It's so itty and its climbing skills are so dubious.
It bears mentioning that I don't think of myself as tremendously interesting or--hm, difficult or complicated or what-have-you. Because I spend all day & all night lounging around in my own head, and we've gotten a little weary of one another. "Oh--it's you again," I greet myself in mirrors & periods of vague introspection. It's not that I think I'm dull, per se. I just think that the imaginary people racketing around in here are a good deal more interesting. O, and you all too. ♥
Medea was last night! I think it went really well. People who came seemed to like it a lot--a couple friends/acquaintances told me I was frightening, which was rather the point, and such a relief, because I'm always frightened I can't do frightening. You know me. It was a really challenging part for me for that reason. Not only a truckload of super-intense and/or violent emotions, but shifting gears four or five times in the space of ten minutes (or one monologue!). D-desperate helplessness RAGE! RAGE! disgust fawwww~~ning? prophecy. ...regret. Icy resolution. Rinse & repeat. Put me through a wringer. & that's not to mention the Greek! but I'm really pleased with how it all turned out, & the entire cast & crew kicked ass.
...And now it's over. Post-play strangeness strikes again. All those weeks of pacing around the livingroom shouting Greek at lamps and it's finished in a day. The end of the semester's still more alarming. Time! Aaaa! One more semester?!?! What?! Aaaaaaaaaaaaa!
...& speaking of things that make me go "Aaaa", Goodbye Chains has done it again. Colin: you're stupendous. I love you. Waiting for Tuesday is going to be a hell.
Bizarrely enough, Goodbye Chains has been my one respite from Webcomics Woe this month--Red String? Penny & Aggie? Gunnerkrigg Court? It's like they all became incredibly tense and depressing at once! What gives? What's winter done to writers? I haven't been doing that much writing myself as of late, but none of it's been this distressing. I discovered that someone was a charmingly bad letter-writer & that someone else is eagerly anticipating the composition of his own elegy--that's about it.
OK. Back to Greek. 189 lines to go and I've finished banging through the Bacchae. !!! What.
♥
E.
P.S. ...Greek. That reminds me, I have a potentially amusing anecdote for you about what happened after the play last night.
1. Returning from the play, I decided to have a glass of wine to congratulate myself.
2. Upon attempting to remove the cork from the (already opened) bottle, however, the darn cork broke in half. Flimsy nonsense!
3. So I figured: this is a job for a corkscrew. But alas, it was nowhere to be found.
4. Ruth, however, offered the use of her knife for the task.
5. So I oh-so-deftly wielded it and had nearly succeeded in removing the cork...
6. ...when I apparently decided that slicing open my thumb was a much better idea.
7. And that's when I started giggling. Here's why:
7a. My hands were already significantly stained with fake blood from the play.
7b. My (real) blood, now splotching itself unpleasantly on the counter, was nearly the exact same shade as not only the fake blood but the wine I'd been trying to reach.
7c. I'd spent the entire afternoon translating a long passage about the god of wine causing bloodshed.
:x
...To add insult to injury, the damn corkscrew was on top of the microwave in plain sight the entire time. |D I did use it (with Ruth's help) to remove the cork and obtain the wine which at that point I felt was richly deserved. Had an evening of wine and Wensleydale with cranberries and being a nerd & all was well (except for the large and cumbersome bandage on my right thumb, which is making my handwriting significantly worse). But. What! Weird symmetry.