qalice

I never, ever again thought I'd come across a paper that I could not bullshit my way though.

...this one's giving me a lot of grief, though. And very handily kicking my ass. I had thought that one year of grad school and four years of undergrad had taught me how to shut up and vomit words onto a page, at least for academic things. But I guess it just goes to show that I shouldn't get so cocky.

And there I was, beautiful Saturday afternoon with the whole house to myself, thinking, naaaaw, Monday's good enough. Just crap it out in a day and turn in the rough draft, get it back, then turn in a better version Wednesday, perfect grade once again.

Oooohoho, SO WRONG. It's due at midnight tomorrow, and I'm not even done with the rough draft yet. *bangs head against desk and weeps* And now I'm going to have to turn it in without the benefit of the helpful rough draft prof edit (I really, really love this prof... I can't believe she let, nay! encouraged us to turn in rough drafts a couple of days early so we could get help and better grades <333 Aside from this miserable assignment, I've never had a more useful, informative semester of assignments. Ever.)

*sad face* *sigh* ...oh well...




In other news, my computer would not stop restarting itself. I re-formatted. I swapped out every component out except the mb and cpu. So I went and bought a new mb and cpu. AMD, this time around, rather than Intel. I needed to keep it under 200. Then I went and blew $50 on new ram and sacrificed some budgeted project materials for a new video card.

The re-starting problem may be gone... Hasn't done it yet, but while some days it would re-start itself several times, at other points it could go days without crashing on me randomly. If it can make it to next Wednesday without crashing, I'll call it a win.

I had that old rig from 2008 to now, so, for me, that was quite a lot of use for one purchase *cough*quinndon'teven*cough*

But now I'm having a completely different problem, almost certainly related to the video card. I'm going to put the old one back in and see if that solves the issue. If it does, well, return ahoy! I shouldn't've spent that money anyway.

At least now I don't need to worry about the damn thing crashing on me between one autosave and the next while writing a paper.

All of a sudden I'm making up schemes to move back.

So, yeah, no. Not adjusting.

I don't really know what to do about it though.

Teenagers read millions of books every year. They read for entertainment and for education. They read because of school assignments and pop culture fads.

And there are millions of teens who read because they are sad and lonely and enraged. They read because they live in an often-terrible world. They read because they believe, despite the callow protestations of certain adults, that books-especially the dark and dangerous ones-will save them.

Why the Best Kids Books Are Written in Blood
By Sherman Alexie

I loved, loved, loved “The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian". It was a truly beautiful story, and masterfully written. It ripped my heart out and ate it in front of me. Similarly, "Speak", "Wintergirls", and "Twisted" by Laurie Halse Anderson each in turn blew me apart and forced me to put all the pieces back in weird, new ways.

These books are necessary. They are amazing and heartbreaking and fucking perfect. And wow did this article make me cryyyy.

Wake is tomorrow 2-6, funeral is Monday at 10am.

My Nana Alice had a heart attack when she was in her 50s. To make it from 50-something to 92 with congestive heart failure is a pretty good run, all in all.

But I am totally not ready for her heart to give out.


... there really are no emoticons for this.


Anyway, there have been many, many calls to the 'rents, to the hospital, to airlines. I just. *headdesk* I may be home for a quick trip this weekend, but I won't be around much.

Internet, what, I don't even *flaily hands*

Arisia will have trolls, I JUST KNOW IT. YESSSSS. I hope there are also many, many, MANY Daves, and that at least one of them will look half as good as this Tux Dave cosplay. (Mmm, that picture is the background on my phone. Daaaaaaaave <333)

There needs to be a Homestuck panel. NEEEEEEEED.

I want to dress as a cross between Snowman and Lord English, mostly because there are no redheaded characters (other than the hypothetically redheaded human version of Karkat, but that's only fanon, and also I'd have to cut it way, way short ;.;) and there's no way I'm dyeing my hair. Ever.

So for the past week I've been trying to think of ways to make the Lord English coat and the Snowman's dress/pants/coat combo...


Also, I really didn't like Gamzee, and then the internet had to go and make me love him.

Also, also, omg, wtf, Tavros. *hands*


*gasps* *clutches at desk* OMG. INTERNET. STOP IT. I CAN'T TAKE ANY MORE. *dies of too much awesome*

Begotten of the Spleen
Charles Simic

The Virgin Mother walked barefoot
Among the land mines.
She carried an old man in her arms
Like a howling babe.

The earth was an old people's home.
Judas was the night nurse,
Emptying bed pans into the river Jordan,
Tying people on a dog chain.

The old man had two stumps for legs.
St. Peter came pushing a cart
Loaded with flying carpets.
They were not flying carpets.

They were piles of bloody diapers.
The Magi stood around
Cleaning their nails with bayonets.
The old man gave little Mary Magdalene

A broken piece of mirror.
She hid in the outhouse.
When she got thirsty she licked
the steam off the glass.

That leaves Joseph. Poor Joseph,
Standing naked in the snow.
He only had a rat
To load his suitcase on.

The rat wouldn't run into its hole.
Even when the lights came on-
And the lights came on:
The floodlights in the guard towers.

W. H. Auden:


THE TWO
You are the town and we are the clock.
We are the guardians of the gate in the rock.
The Two.
On your left and on your right
In the day and in the night,
We are watching you.

Wiser not to ask just what has occurred
To them who disobeyed our word;
To those
We were the whirlpool, we were the reef,
We were the formal nightmare, grief
And the unlucky rose.

Climb up the crane , learn the sailor's words
When the ships from the islands laden with birds
Come in.
Tell your stories of fishing and other men's wives:
The expansive moments of constricted lives
In the lighted inn.

But do not imagine we do not know
Nor that what you hide with such care won't show
At a glance.
Nothing is done, nothing is said,
But don't make the mistake of believing us dead:
I shouldn't dance.

We're afraid in that case you'll have a fall.
We've been watching you over the garden wall
For hours.
The sky is darkening like a stain,
Something is going to fall like rain
And it won't be flowers.

When the green field comes off like a lid
Revealing what was much better hid:
Unpleasant.
And look, behind you without a sound
The woods have come up and are standing round
In deadly crescent.

The bolt is sliding in its groove,
Outside the window is the black remov-
ers' van.
And now with sudden swift emergence
Come the woman in dark glasses and humpbacked surgeons
And the scissors man.

This might happen any day
So be careful what you say
Or do.
Be clean, be tidy, oil the lock,
Trim the garden, wind the clock,
Remember the Two.