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salienneSo I am sitting here watching Shrek, and I've just had the second chai frappucino of two days, and I'm wearing incredibly comfortable PJ pants that my mother and grandmother hate because they have holes in them, and I just need 40 bucks so that I can afford a new PS2 as mine doesn't know how to do anything but give me "Disk Read Error," and life is pretty good.
Of course there are quite a few things I haven't done yet--figure out my schedule for the summer (research with two child psychiatrists, alongside volunteering for Project Health), research grants for the Feminist Alliance, research and contact potential speakers for the Feminist Alliance, contact other student groups about co-sponsoring things with the Feminist Alliance, write a film blog entry about the presentation of women in TV shows, do laundry, and (most importantly) write some damn fanfiction. Write some damn fiction in general. *Sigh*
Still, that's what vacation is for, right? I love sleepytimes and doing nothing but browsing ontd_p and watching Stargate Atlantis. I'm almost done with the show, though, which is unfortunate. Anyone have any further suggestions? Or is anyone interested in some fic with McKay, Keller, Daniel Jackson, Sheppard, and possibly others? Because assuming I can think of a plot, that would be fun.
Now... to watch more Shrek and munch on Reese's. Much love bbs!
Also, have the first draft of a post-modernist story in which I complain about gender and just how damn arbitrary the surrounding concepts are; it was really fun:
they carry pink dinosaurs and blue dollies
Once upon a time, there were three little boys. They lived on the same street, with mothers in aprons and smiles, with cookies and flour and a warmth to the kitchen that warned them away, and in the mornings their fathers went to work and in the evenings their fathers came home with a kiss and a tired droop to their eyelids, and then these fathers faded away until the weekend, when they became soccer-toys and gift-bearers.
The story goes like this.
1. In a distant galaxy on a planet far far away, but much like this one, lived three un-ripened narul. They lived on the same row, with mothers in bark and smiles, with manins and burks and the hot core deep underground, where they could not go, where roots do not reach, and sometimes the spores blew in and sometimes they drifted away and did not reach their children, and they were always leaving at the end of the day except when they stuck. Morality is odd that way.
2. There were three little girls.
and the red smears and white shards in the metal would be impossible to decipher.
4. On a seashore, there lay three seashells—pale pink with an oily shimmer, identical yet their swirls like thumbprints. They mattered to the child who took them, and then two lay on a bedside table and one at the bottom of the drawer until the child moved and they were dropped and that one in the drawer, it chipped. He kept it (he never asked it). The other two were crushed in the move.
Once upon every time, her eyelids droop. He smiles. In the end, is anything not a symbol, really? They lie down with the rising of the sun for the night.
Of course there are quite a few things I haven't done yet--figure out my schedule for the summer (research with two child psychiatrists, alongside volunteering for Project Health), research grants for the Feminist Alliance, research and contact potential speakers for the Feminist Alliance, contact other student groups about co-sponsoring things with the Feminist Alliance, write a film blog entry about the presentation of women in TV shows, do laundry, and (most importantly) write some damn fanfiction. Write some damn fiction in general. *Sigh*
Still, that's what vacation is for, right? I love sleepytimes and doing nothing but browsing ontd_p and watching Stargate Atlantis. I'm almost done with the show, though, which is unfortunate. Anyone have any further suggestions? Or is anyone interested in some fic with McKay, Keller, Daniel Jackson, Sheppard, and possibly others? Because assuming I can think of a plot, that would be fun.
Now... to watch more Shrek and munch on Reese's. Much love bbs!
Also, have the first draft of a post-modernist story in which I complain about gender and just how damn arbitrary the surrounding concepts are; it was really fun:
they carry pink dinosaurs and blue dollies
Once upon a time, there were three little boys. They lived on the same street, with mothers in aprons and smiles, with cookies and flour and a warmth to the kitchen that warned them away, and in the mornings their fathers went to work and in the evenings their fathers came home with a kiss and a tired droop to their eyelids, and then these fathers faded away until the weekend, when they became soccer-toys and gift-bearers.
The story goes like this.
1. In a distant galaxy on a planet far far away, but much like this one, lived three un-ripened narul. They lived on the same row, with mothers in bark and smiles, with manins and burks and the hot core deep underground, where they could not go, where roots do not reach, and sometimes the spores blew in and sometimes they drifted away and did not reach their children, and they were always leaving at the end of the day except when they stuck. Morality is odd that way.
2. There were three little girls.
a) Three little girls that looked like boys.
b) Three little girls trapped in boys.
c) Two little girls and one little boy (though only one of them knew) and when they all grew up, the two big girls pretended they never knew the little boy—when they weren’t beating him up, anyway.
These three little girls wore dresses. Two had bowl-cuts, one had long blond curls. They lived on the same street, and their dollies did too, with mothers in aprons and smiles, with cookies and flour and a warmth to the kitchen that would have enveloped them if they liked the kitchen, but instead they sat in the grass with plastic and rocks and it’s amazing the things that dollies can do. In the evenings their fathers came home with a kiss on the cheek and a tired droop to their eyelids andb) Three little girls trapped in boys.
c) Two little girls and one little boy (though only one of them knew) and when they all grew up, the two big girls pretended they never knew the little boy—when they weren’t beating him up, anyway.
a) they would be their fathers one day, maybe.
b) they would be their mothers one day, they would like it.
c) they would be ripened naruls, fresh for the eating.
d) the car accidents would be harsh, and expected, and all start with the beeping of a horn and beer and a skirt someone somewhere once said was too short
b) they would be their mothers one day, they would like it.
c) they would be ripened naruls, fresh for the eating.
d) the car accidents would be harsh, and expected, and all start with the beeping of a horn and beer and a skirt someone somewhere once said was too short
1) or it would just happen and be no one’s fault, really, as these things sometimes are
2) was there a narul in the way?
2) was there a narul in the way?
and the red smears and white shards in the metal would be impossible to decipher.
e) ask the dollies. The shapeless dollies.
3. There were three little people. There were parents, many of them, a family of siblings whose blood never touched. They lived in a forest, in a tree house, where there were many tears and smiles.4. On a seashore, there lay three seashells—pale pink with an oily shimmer, identical yet their swirls like thumbprints. They mattered to the child who took them, and then two lay on a bedside table and one at the bottom of the drawer until the child moved and they were dropped and that one in the drawer, it chipped. He kept it (he never asked it). The other two were crushed in the move.
Once upon every time, her eyelids droop. He smiles. In the end, is anything not a symbol, really? They lie down with the rising of the sun for the night.
