alias: devsgirl // W // Pooh thinking: ditched by the BuxBoy!!! reading: er, stuff watching: SGA, Wanted listening: check the scrobby lusting: I want my Buxboy BACK, dammit quote: "Now I'm no scientist, but those mice used to be a different color." ~ Lt. Col. Sheppard, SGA: Duet
Never EVER answer the phone -- especially when there's a good probability of a job search-related call -- when your brain is fried. EVER. I can't believe I just told headhunter that 'no, I'm not interested in moving to Minnesota.' WTF?! *kicks self* The correct answer is 'I'm perfectly willing to relocate' just give me a job, beyotch! and then see where it goes because there are no guarantees anyway.
Er. Except I pretty much ended that opportunity. *sigh* She said if I changed my mind to give her a call, but goddamnit, I can't do that now. That would be like branding myself as a Big Desperate Loser. Sheesh. Sucks, too, because if it's the "very large medical device company" (and I'd be doing cardiovascular device research, which I like, too! *stupid stupid stupid*) that I think it is (because there's really only one supa large CV device company in MN that counts) then I would have been right back in the work family again... which means a hella billion ways for transfers and crap.
Argh. Brain. Fried. The air in the library must not be conducive to thinking. Meh.
Data is... omg, when does death become an option? Because... *panic sobs*
Very much freaking out now. A one-hour nap turned into five hours of guilty sleep. Who knew it would be this much harder to pull a couple of all-nighters at this age? And alone, without someone else to commiserate with? Last time I did this, we went almost two full all-nighters straight, but by the end, I was so hopped up on caffeine that I ended up walking into walls every few feet on the way to turn in my paper. I refuse to do that this time, although there's that nice bottle of Twisted in the fridge that's starting to look all sorts of tempting.
But I'm only armed with crackers and water. I have commandeered a carrel in the very empty library and will be here until closing at 6PM. That's 8 hours, people. Feel free to poke and prod because I expect my head to explode every half hour.
Argh. 340 files to consolidate into 10-15 pages of graphs. I have no one to blame but myself. But oh god, at the end of this, I will be SO FUCKING HAPPY AND RELIEVED... and will probably be getting on the first plane out of here just to recoup. So everyone, start deciding on where I'm going, because you'll have to help me walk and think for a few days when this is all done.
Due to the very helpful friends-lock function at LJ, I've posted a long thing about trying to work through my thesis fears here. It's really nothing that I haven't touched on in the last blog post a few entries down, just in more scary, flailing detail.
I think right now, the scariest thing isn't so much the actual defense presentation but doing what I was supposed to do in A MONTH within the span of ONE WEEK. Okay, that's not true. My biggest fear is that after all this, everyone will sit there staring at me going "WTF? It took her this long to do THAT? NO fucking way we're letting her graduate based on that shitty thing."
God. I need a drink and a hug just thinking about it.
I am putting this up here as DEFINITIVE, even if it KILLS ME in the process of doing it. For reasons I won't get into here, my personal August deadline of finishing has... well, pretty much passed. In any case, graduation (either way) is in October with a final candidacy submission due October 2. That's pretty much just one month away.
I plan on squishing one month's worth of analysis and writing into ONE WEEK this week and handing in my final/pre-final draft by the end of the week or next Monday/Tuesday. Allow a couple of days to a week for the committee to rip it apart in private. Then presentation the week after. Leaving... what's left? One to two weeks until the October deadline.
Your mission: to do whatever you have to (tags, email, texts, calls, visits) to make sure my butt stays in gear and I hand in that draft between Friday-Tuesday. (Yes, it's a rather wide opening, but it's the damn holidays. Meh.)
I can do this. I totally can. Writing up reports has never been a problem. The only thing that's giving me a massive mental block is that my data might not "mean anything." But this is all about the act and process of completing a solo research project, right? The data itself isn't that significant... right? OH GOD, I'M GOING TO FAIL MISERABLY. No, wait. *smaps self* I can do this... even if I'll end up crying and shaking horribly on presentation day.
Oh! And because some of you (*eyes some of you*) are keeping track...
I saw the boy today. Couldn't tell if he was working or not, but I did talk to him. I even initiated it! Ha! (See? I'm not a complete dumbass. Painfully shy, yes, but not a freaking losery idiot. Well, not completely, anyway.) I'm pretty sure he even told me what day he does work (couldn't be sure, as we were halfway across the room from each other). Hmmm... who wants to visit and grab a cup of joe with me...?
Oh, and he's just as cute as I remembered. Lalala.
Just finished moving the PoohBro into his dorm. Ahhh, Freshmen Move-in Day... Ugh. It was all kinds of depressing. To be young and innocent once more! To do it all over again knowing exactly what I know now... Meh.
Along with news of all the base closings around the country, the PoohDad found out that his division might be transferring to Maryland. Not the good part of Maryland. The ass-end of Maryland. Indian Head or something? Apparently, nothing's there. *sigh* They'll know whether they're definitely moving within the month, and then he'll have to decide whether to go or to transfer to another division within his base. I'm hoping nothing comes of it. If they do move, who's going to feed me homecooked meals on the weekend? THINK OF ME, DAMMIT!
Oy. I can't believe I've been neglecting this place. Just haven't really felt like updating anything. My life's a drag and in lag. Meh. Maybe it's another one of those depressive cycles. :(
Finally finished snarking SGA 2.06 Trinity. Polls are fun! So are Duran Duran references. lmfao. But god, the slash KILLS. *gag*
Meeting up with Trix this weekend. It's either (1) stalking Sark in NYC (btw, everyone should listen to him singing 'cuz... HEH), or (2) hanging out in Philly and watching those Eyes DVDs that her new BFF sent her (she's such a BNF, lmfao).
Dear Any Alias Fans Who Will Be In NYC This Weekend:
Trix and I are trying going to get tickets for David Anders's musical. I got an email from a PR person asking me to link this stuff at the Sark Squishy site, but seeing how I haven't updated that thing since Season 2, I ignored the email and forgot all about it. But DUDE, Trix and I wanna go, and if there are any Freakers who are planning on being in the area this weekend, COME WITH. We will laugh and we will snark and then we will come back here and make fun of it.
*
To anyone who doubted my committment to stalking crushing:
I finally asked. BuxBoy has a new job somewhere else, but still works one day a week. You guys know what this means, right?
Right.
*
To anyone who has some extra snark lying around that they don't need:
I am stuck at the halfway mark for Friday's SGA episode. I can't get past the snark block. Someone HELP.
In a really obvious attempt to put off rewatching and recapping The Slashiest Atlantis Episode Yet, I started cleaning my room. That actually didn't take that long. And then in another attempt to prolong the procrastination -- for I may very well die or at least be in horrific pain when recapping said slashiness (of Sheppard/McKay, that is; everyone KNOWS Rodney and Radek are already f'ing like bunnies) -- I decided to clean out the huge Rubbermaid tub in the back of the closet. Yay for being productive!
Dude. It was like sifting through a random sampling of maybe two years of my life, all crammed into a 20-ish gallon tub. Talk about a massive shoebox. And er, actually, there were a couple of shoeboxes inside, too. And what did I find?
1. Lots and lots of old letters. *reminisces* *sniffles* 2. Lots of photos. *horrified at bad fashion choices* 3. Jewelry. 4. High school lit crit essays for English. 5. High school graduation ceremony program. 6. Undergrad financial aid paperwork. 7. Math and Unix textbooks. Shut up, I was/am a freaking nerd, k. 8. My undergrad application essays. 9. Notebooks and binders full of... fanfic.
Horrible, terrible, embarrasing fanfic. All lovingly written in longhand. All written before I even knew there was such a thing as "fanfic." These were my dirty little secrets, and omfg, they're going to stay that way. Have you ever gone back and reread things you've written years ago? I was going to pull out a couple of choice sample lines to amuse y'all (in the name of 'lantis recap procrastination), but I couldn't get past the first few pages of any of them without cringing and dying from embarrassment. I've got freaking Dawson's Creek, Covingington Cross, The X-Files, Dead Poets' Society, something inspired by The Cutting Edge, and an assortment of teen high school romantic angst/drama. All of them of EPIC length. Each one of them featuring a cast of thousands (damn, I really liked my ensemble pieces). And all of them featuring some sort of Mary Sue who would eventually help get my OTPs together. OY. I thought those Gilmore Girls fics were bad. These are just... *MORTIFIED* I don't even want to know what's in the other tub still in the closet.
I'm glad I did it, though, and not just because it helped kill a good chunk of time where I didn't have to think about McShep. *twitch* It's always nice to have an occasional self-reminder of how much you suck to keep you properly grounded, ya know?
And now that the self-humiliation portion of today is over, I guess I'll go grab a bottle of hard liquor and let my eyes bleed for a few hours start on the recap. *sigh*
In an attempt to forestall the ever-growing width of the butt muscle from running rampant and unchecked, I decided to go biking and running tonight. FYI: biking is boring, even when you're sitting in front of the TV. Then I went running and almost killed myself via exercise-induced hypoxia. When my heart couldn't break through my ribcage, a la the Alien, the first five times, it tried to crawl out through my throat. And it's not like I forced it -- two laps jogging and three walking isn't anything great. God, I'm so pathetic. *frowns at the PoohAss* Behave! Oh, well. It's all baby steps to get me back to fighting weight. Meh.
And because I love spreading the boyfriend love with a flashback to 1998: His clips from 1st of 4 episode Cupid guest stint -- adorably gooberish His clips from 2nd of 4 episode Cupid guest stint -- nekkid, sexy, and nekkid
Mmmmmm. Does looping the shirtless smut scenes count as cardiovascular workout? *ponders*
Very early morning wakeup call today. Sent the fam to the airport so they could begin their cruise. Now I'm home alone, housesitting, and FREAKING BORED OUT OF MY MIND. And it's not even 11AM yet on the first of 7 days. Exactly WHY did I decide not to go with them?
*bangs head*
I also got my hair cut this weekend. Just decided I had enough, and had a choice between Superbutts and some no name place that someone I know goes to. And... yeah. I'm no longer talking to that person anymore. The cut is two inches shorter than I expected, so instead of below my shoulders, it's right at my shoulders. The front is kind of cute, with a bit of layering. But the back, even after hours of messing with it, Thing2 took a look at it and concluded that the girl just chopped it right across without any shape to it. Now... without the extra 8 inches of hair weighing it down, my hair is back to being thick and fluffy and kinky instead of what Thing2 insists is the "true Asian hair": very straight and silky. Meh. So. With that in mind (thick, froofy Pooh hair), imagine what happens when it's not really layered and has been blown dry. Dude, it's sort of... well, it's a bob, really, but sort of mushroomy and helmet-y. Curse my thick hair! But then I washed it, air dried it, and slept on it, and now it's all...
Well. There's a reason I hate getting my hair cut and why I need a simple, foolproof cut when I do. I'm not girlie enough to worry about fixing and styling and whatever-ing to it. Therefore, this baby is going up in a ponytail. I figure: let it grow out a bit, wait for the influx of job interviews, and then get another cut that's less fluffy and froofy. At least I'm not dying from the heat now and don't need to spend an hour in the shower. And anyway, I went in knowing the sooner I got it cut, the sooner it would grow out again.
Meh. Okay, this post only took a few minutes to do. Now I'm bored again. *sigh*
Nothing peeves me off more than seeing people make fun of others for spelling or grammar mistakes, and then a few posts later, they're making really stupid mistakes of their own. Hypocrites suck. And anyway, only I should be able to get away with that.
There's also something really twitch-inducing about going to a semi-official (or even official) website, and seeing typos. 'Immanent' is not 'imminent' - that's why they're spelled differently. Damn fucking homonyms! *twitchspasm* It even looks wrong. Sure, a run or two through spellcheck probably wouldn't catch that, but at least proofread the damn thing. And sheesh, when in doubt, use a different word. What the hell was wrong with 'impending,' anyway? Argh.
Wow. You have to hand it to the Alias folks. They finally found a way to get me to actually stick to my self-threats to quit watching for good. (Just call me SourPoopy!)
Are they kidding me? Do they actually wantthis to happen if there's a Season 6? (Are you there, God? It's me, Pooh. Because I don't think you are. A benevolent higher power would have killed this show two seasons ago. And now you're letting them threaten me with a possible sixth season?!) I'll give them a pass for casting BlankFace this season, but I'd like some of that crack they're smoking if they think she can actually carry a show. *shudder*
But, weeeeeeee! Vartan! omg, I think I have convinced myself into believing in my snarkastic love for Vaughn and for him. Because this is the funniest thing I've read in forever. lmfao.
25 more hours until boyfriend. Better get a move on the Pants!picspam I've been planning for the past two weeks. *innocents*
Hateful, hateful people! If you plan on breeding, please take care of your spawn!
Was in Borders today when I saw a little boy (3 or 4 years old) standing outside the women's bathroom, calling out for his "...mommy? ...mommy?" He knew enough that it was socially 'incorrect' for him to actually enter the bathroom so he just stood there, holding the door open about an inch. Then he immediately ran to stand by the water fountain nearby when he heard someone coming out of the room. And when that person came out, he went back to holding the door slightly ajar and calling "mommy... mommy..." He was the cutest little boy ever, too. And it was freaking heartbreaking!
Nothing pulls at my heartstrings faster than a cute little kid sounding absolutely lost and abandoned, voice bordering on the edge of panic. In his poor little kiddie head, the bathroom would probably be the very last place for him to check. And the fact that he ended up there before finding her... ARGH!
For the record, no one else was in the bathroom. No one in the store was running around frantically looking for him. But there was a woman standing outside, having a leisurely conversation on her cell. I don't know if that was mommy, but I was so full of irrational hate by then that I kind of wanted to smack her around just because.
It's one thing to let your kid read quietly in a bookstore so you can stand right outside and take a call. But to not tell him where you're going to be? Breeders SUCK.
Luckily, I'm a Cancer and will probably nag and over-mother my kids to death. They'll end up begging me to abandon them for a few hours. Hee.
You know what happens when you don't drink alcohol in a really long time? And then decide to drink a bottle on a half-empty stomach? For no other reason than there was nothing better to drink?
Yeah.
Watermelon-flavored was yummy. But the head? It's a little buzzed right now. Or maybe it's the 3 hours of sleep I had last night catching up to me. Hmm... Headaches shouldn't be quite so tingly...
I came back to the apartment after the weekend to find a huge hole in one of my window screens! It's about the size of my palm. DUDE. DUUUUUUDE! WTF! There's a bit of... I don't know if it's fur or dust or whatever, caught on the edge of the screen. My room's a mess, but I moved some things around a bit and nothing jumped out at me. Hopefully, whatever chewed it either didn't come in, came in and then went back out, or just wanted the screen. I'm hoping it's the third one, but whatever, I have a huge hole in my screen. I remember last year there were issues with freak squirrels. I'm going to be okay with that as long as it's not mice or birds or something. Grrr. I'm too much of a girly girl do deal with this shit, yo. So I placed a thick piece of cardboard against the hole and shut the window. I gotta clean my room before I tell the super to come and replace the screen. SIGH.
Thankfully, the roomie is still out of the country for the rest of the month. I moved out of his room last week because there was a bee or fly or something in the room and moved to the livingroom. But it's not hot enough tonight to warrant turning on the AC in the livingroom so I'm back in his room tonight. Ugh. It's like playing musical rooms. Pretty soon I'm not going to remember what it feels like to sleep in my own room and in my own bed. Not that it's something I want to do right now considering the hole in my screen. *WIBBLE*
Also, have a massive headache. Which may also have come from Atlantis, but not from the squee portions.
Also, it's hot.
I am over the Hockey!Boyfriend's deflection to Anaheim. HRMPH. Sheppard still loves me, as evidenced by all the cute faces he was giving me from his side of the TV. *nods*
Oy. I don't remember what I ate or drank last night, but whatever it was, I should never have it again. Strange dieting produces even stranger (fucked up) dreams.
I had an apoca-dream last night. Yes, that's probably the best description for it. It was all kind of Mulder-and-Scullyish, except instead of an expected final alien invasion, we were expecting to be hit by a bigass meteor at NOON the next day. (I think the exact deadline for it stemmed from staying up all night expecting the Hockey Boyfriend to have a press conference somewhere, anywhere). Except the meteor was only supposed to hit the States, which meant we all had to flee to Canada.
The fuck? Why is there always a definitive line of destruction between the US and Canada that always has Canada marked as 'safe territory'? Hell, even in X-Files apoca-fics, M&S (with or without Krycek) were always headed towards Canada (ok, sometimes Mexico). (Or maybe this is explained by the Hockey!Boyfriend.)
And then in our rush to pack up for the big escape, everyone else was packing food and furniture (ok, I don't get that one either) and personal belongings. I? Was packing paper. Paper. PAPER. WTF. Like they don't have PAPER up in Canada! (This I blame on SGA, and all those bad!fics I've read where paper is premium property, because I was watching S1 eps last night, too. Though... I actually wasn't looking at paper-level, hmmm.....interesting.) Then after I was finished packing paper, we went to hug everyone goodbye (because there's no way we'd ever find a way to get in touch again in Canada, omg). And that resulted in lots of crying, especially since GrandmaPooh was there. What the--. I really miss my GrandmaPooh. *sniffle* And for some reason, no one else was packing or getting ready to leave. They were all just sitting there watching Asian soap operas.
And then I woke up.
And continued the 'refresh, refresh, refresh' of last night. Hockey!Boyfriend gets NO LOVE from me if he drags out his decision any longer. And definitely NO LOVE if he picks the wrong team (which I FEAR will happen anyway). Hrmph. After the BuxBoy disappearance, I wouldn't be surprised if this one leaves me, too. Therefore, I will become EVEN MORE BATSHITCRAZY over Sheppard. (One, you've been warned. But you still love me, right? *twirls hair*)
If anyone's seen my BuxBoy, please tell him that Poopy misses him. *sniffles* I'd ask myself, but I don't want to give the WRONG IMPRESSION that I am his stalkergirl.
The Bux is so depressing without him working (at all?) during my usual visits. Though I did have the pleasure of witnessing a huge crash-and-burn today. Some snooty girl in front of me -- who refused to move up the line, stood by the door forcing others to squish in behind her, and yet made a stink if anyone tried to move ahead of her into the 'proper' line -- got to the front of the line and quite chirpily said "Oh! My regular, of course!" And got nothing but blank looks from the two guys standing there -- one of whom was supposed to be GONE and yet is still HERE when my Boy ISN'T, omg. *sobs* *LMFAO* *sobs some more* *laughs some more* And then she had to backtrack quickly and tell them what her "regular" was. *sniffles* I miss having telepathic communication with the BuxBoy! (Also, he was really cute. I mean, really, in a so-not-Pooh's-usual-but-sorta-is cute.) *waaah*
It's weird how humans are such creatures of habit. Roomie's gone until September and I have the whole apartment to myself. Yet, I still act like someone else is here with me. Technically, I'm free to roam around stark naked if I wanted to - which I don't, unless it gets ridiculously, swelteringly hot, god forbid. But I'm still closing doors to the bathroom and to my room. Why? It's not like anyone is going to walk in on me or bother me. *ponders*
S:AaB DVDs are hitting the streets early - well, Best Buy, anyway - in September! SQUEEEEEE! *bounce*
The NewRoomie is now gone. The apartment is all mine until September. Weeeeeee!
And to celebrate, I'm camped out in the living room with the air-conditioner on. It's not even THAT hot, but I don't care. I'll worry about conservation tomorrow. Tonight is all about me, the futon, the ac, and wifi. If only it weren't such a chore to move the vcr and dvd player out here...
