Listening to: The Police - So Lonely
Although I'm really not lonely at all. Just a remaining earworm from last night. The concert kicked ass (except for two hours of horrible opening-band waiting time), traffic getting home was negligeable, and I have Steve and Chris here - it's really nice spending a birthday among friends. Last year, I was working at Breezemont. We had celebratory donuts, since cupcakes weren't allowed. Fuckin' horse shit.
So, I'm 23.
::shrug:: call me when I'm 40. My paranoia's there already.
One thing you should never do at any stadium in Philadelphia? Chant "Eagles fuckin' suck!" While exiting CBP last night, I was being followed by some douche, probably from New York, who started doing his Eagles-suck thing in the midst of a swath of people trying to leave. Now, I hate the Eagles as much as a Giants fan should, but even I know how absolutely irritating and stupid it would be to INCITE A FUCKING RIOT. I last saw the fellow making menacing fists at some other meatheads who told him that he should stop being a prick and shut up.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
Excerpt 1
Listening to: Eurythmics - Here Comes the Rain Again
Alright, readers...
I'm posting up the first excerpt of my new story (I always type them up in story form before I illustrate them) with hopes that you will offer VERY HONEST CRITIQUE. I want you to tell me what works and what doesn't work, if the syntax is confusting, etc.
The clock says 3:42 am. I've been lying in bed for three hours. I'm out of Tylenol PM. First I was too warm. Now I'm too cold.
Luther's been making noise, too. Nocturnal little bastard. He keeps switching back and forth between swatting around that mouse with the stupid rattle in it and rubbing his clawless paws against the corner of the bed. Or he's lapping at the toilet, or climbing on my head. I pet him a couple times - maybe he'd be a good kitty and sleep or something - but he went right back to that idiot mouse.
I'm getting up. This is pointless.
Three hours of swishing paws. Three hours of the buzzing streetlight outside. Three hours of the toilet making weird noises.
It's 3:42 am. El, you have work in four hours. There's a pile of papers you should have graded by now.
51 papers on the ancient world, by 51 6th-graders. I bet 47 of them picked the Rome prompt. The fall of Ur wasn't nearly as interesting as the discussion of great Roman inventions. Anything with information would impress me, but this is a private school; they've been doing the five-paragraph thing for a couple years now. "Higher standards," Mrs. O'Connell said.
Can't sleep.
Time to sit down and do this.
***
Elliot shut his eyes as he switched on the living room lamp, and a moment later opened them again. The stack of papers on the coffee table rattled in the draft of the A/C, but remained a solid pile of weight. As he sat down, he picked up the papers and moved them next to him on the couch.
"Fuck, red pen." He got up again, walked back to his room, and dumped out the pen cup on his desk.
"Where's the red one? Dammit." He picked up a purple pen, and returned to the paper stack. He picked up the first paper.
"Brianna Abrams... Rome." He read the paper quickly, adding lines, correcting spelling, moving commas. Purple ink, a B- paper.
Purple sent no message. It was too friendly. O'Connell had no rules about pen colors, but this looked all wrong. Elliot put the paper on the coffee table and picked up the next one.
"Eddie Ayers... Rome." Purple purple purple. C+. He threw the pen on the floor. "Fuck!" Elliot stood up. "No. These were due back last week." He shut his eyes, sighed, and sat down.
Cheryl always got her tests back quickly. Though grading math tests took a lot less time. The kids loved her as much as they could love a math teacher. She got away with being strict because she was young and funny and occasionally said "damn" in front of the kids. Young male teachers always need to be goofy to get students to listen. Maybe it's why she asked him out. The new, young, wacky history teacher who wore pink socks on pop quiz days and made up songs for the kids to remember all the important battles in Greece.
She corrected herself so cutely when she said "damn."
Elliot picked up a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and lit one.
"Craig Brown... 'The Fall of Ur.' Nice." Except the Greeks weren't involved in Ur. "Where the hell is my red pen?" From the kitchen, Luther mewed. Elliot scribbled a long note on the back of the paper. In loopy purple script. "Big purple F!" He slammed the paper on the table, tapped his cigarette on the ashtray, and stood up.
Cheryl hadn't talked to him in a couple days. Friday night had not gone well. They ran into students at the movie theater. Students who asked, "are you guys on a date?" then giggled after she said "we're friends outside of school - are you on a date?" 2 students now, 51 students by Monday. They had finally progressed to sex, but it didn't happen. As soon as he had the condom on, he couldn't keep it up. He still pleasured her, but they both seemed embarrassed about the outcome of the night.
Alright, readers...
I'm posting up the first excerpt of my new story (I always type them up in story form before I illustrate them) with hopes that you will offer VERY HONEST CRITIQUE. I want you to tell me what works and what doesn't work, if the syntax is confusting, etc.
The clock says 3:42 am. I've been lying in bed for three hours. I'm out of Tylenol PM. First I was too warm. Now I'm too cold.
Luther's been making noise, too. Nocturnal little bastard. He keeps switching back and forth between swatting around that mouse with the stupid rattle in it and rubbing his clawless paws against the corner of the bed. Or he's lapping at the toilet, or climbing on my head. I pet him a couple times - maybe he'd be a good kitty and sleep or something - but he went right back to that idiot mouse.
I'm getting up. This is pointless.
Three hours of swishing paws. Three hours of the buzzing streetlight outside. Three hours of the toilet making weird noises.
It's 3:42 am. El, you have work in four hours. There's a pile of papers you should have graded by now.
51 papers on the ancient world, by 51 6th-graders. I bet 47 of them picked the Rome prompt. The fall of Ur wasn't nearly as interesting as the discussion of great Roman inventions. Anything with information would impress me, but this is a private school; they've been doing the five-paragraph thing for a couple years now. "Higher standards," Mrs. O'Connell said.
Can't sleep.
Time to sit down and do this.
***
Elliot shut his eyes as he switched on the living room lamp, and a moment later opened them again. The stack of papers on the coffee table rattled in the draft of the A/C, but remained a solid pile of weight. As he sat down, he picked up the papers and moved them next to him on the couch.
"Fuck, red pen." He got up again, walked back to his room, and dumped out the pen cup on his desk.
"Where's the red one? Dammit." He picked up a purple pen, and returned to the paper stack. He picked up the first paper.
"Brianna Abrams... Rome." He read the paper quickly, adding lines, correcting spelling, moving commas. Purple ink, a B- paper.
Purple sent no message. It was too friendly. O'Connell had no rules about pen colors, but this looked all wrong. Elliot put the paper on the coffee table and picked up the next one.
"Eddie Ayers... Rome." Purple purple purple. C+. He threw the pen on the floor. "Fuck!" Elliot stood up. "No. These were due back last week." He shut his eyes, sighed, and sat down.
Cheryl always got her tests back quickly. Though grading math tests took a lot less time. The kids loved her as much as they could love a math teacher. She got away with being strict because she was young and funny and occasionally said "damn" in front of the kids. Young male teachers always need to be goofy to get students to listen. Maybe it's why she asked him out. The new, young, wacky history teacher who wore pink socks on pop quiz days and made up songs for the kids to remember all the important battles in Greece.
She corrected herself so cutely when she said "damn."
Elliot picked up a pack of cigarettes from the coffee table and lit one.
"Craig Brown... 'The Fall of Ur.' Nice." Except the Greeks weren't involved in Ur. "Where the hell is my red pen?" From the kitchen, Luther mewed. Elliot scribbled a long note on the back of the paper. In loopy purple script. "Big purple F!" He slammed the paper on the table, tapped his cigarette on the ashtray, and stood up.
Cheryl hadn't talked to him in a couple days. Friday night had not gone well. They ran into students at the movie theater. Students who asked, "are you guys on a date?" then giggled after she said "we're friends outside of school - are you on a date?" 2 students now, 51 students by Monday. They had finally progressed to sex, but it didn't happen. As soon as he had the condom on, he couldn't keep it up. He still pleasured her, but they both seemed embarrassed about the outcome of the night.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
5 days...
Listening to: The Police - Canary in a Coalmine
In the past, my birthday has been an underwhelming mess of sorts. Bad weather is inevitable, with a 50/50 chance between disgustingly high temperature and humidity, and an enormous, flash-flood inducing thunderstorm. Every year, I've kept track of the weather, and there has yet to be an exception. Which is bad, considering...
I'm seeing the fucking Police as my 23rd birthday party.
Woot! This brings my concert total to a whopping two (three in September, when I see Genesis - ::glee::). I'm debating making a t-shirt specifically for the event, perhaps just a phrase from a song. If I get compliments, then the plan is to make multiple Genesis phrase shirts and attempt to sell them out of the back of the Element before that concert. It shouldn't be a massive investment or anything, since iron-on-letters and plain t-shirts don't cost that much... and the worse case scenario is a mass ebay dump.
::tsk:: silly student. You can't get rich fast.
So dog willing, the weather will be perfect, or at least, not-raining, come thursday. Pray for good weather, guys, I beg of you.
In the past, my birthday has been an underwhelming mess of sorts. Bad weather is inevitable, with a 50/50 chance between disgustingly high temperature and humidity, and an enormous, flash-flood inducing thunderstorm. Every year, I've kept track of the weather, and there has yet to be an exception. Which is bad, considering...
I'm seeing the fucking Police as my 23rd birthday party.
Woot! This brings my concert total to a whopping two (three in September, when I see Genesis - ::glee::). I'm debating making a t-shirt specifically for the event, perhaps just a phrase from a song. If I get compliments, then the plan is to make multiple Genesis phrase shirts and attempt to sell them out of the back of the Element before that concert. It shouldn't be a massive investment or anything, since iron-on-letters and plain t-shirts don't cost that much... and the worse case scenario is a mass ebay dump.
::tsk:: silly student. You can't get rich fast.
So dog willing, the weather will be perfect, or at least, not-raining, come thursday. Pray for good weather, guys, I beg of you.
Friday, July 13, 2007
Go Team Venture!
Just as a sort of pre-emptive explanation for my new cartoony sigs over at OT - too many episodes of The Venture Brothers, a hilarious and well-made cartoon on Adult Swim. Possibly the funniest show sice Futurama.
My Monarch/Dr. Girlfriend sig ended up looking all shitty, so my sig now features Rusty Venture. For those of you who have never watched this show, I encourage you, do. Especially if you were ever into Johnny Quest at any point in your life.
My Monarch/Dr. Girlfriend sig ended up looking all shitty, so my sig now features Rusty Venture. For those of you who have never watched this show, I encourage you, do. Especially if you were ever into Johnny Quest at any point in your life.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Heh... neat.
Listening to: Hall and Oates - Method of Modern Love
(btw, for those of you who've noticed, yes, two days later, I still have that infernal song stuck in my head)
Didn't know I had so many readers - awesome! Now I have to update more regularly, or I'll be systematically slaughtered, and one of you will have my lovely inked skin to wear as a coat.
It's been a slow few days, though Lia's coming back to town this week, so I'll finally be around a friend on a regular basis - for the first time this summer! I've made it through a month and a half being relatively alone, and surprisingly, my moods have been stable, I'm getting work done, and I'm feeling pretty unstressed.
Just started a new graphic story yesterday, regarding a young teacher suffering from insomnia. Familiar territory, if you will. My drawings seem to be improving, and now that I have a scanner, I can edit text and art on my computer, so this one might actually turn out to be the piece I can attempt to get published. Dog willing. It's hard work doing all that illustrating, and I know I've laid down my pen early on multiple occasions, but I really want to follow through on this - you guys have to keep my nose to the grindstone - in exchange, I'll occasionally post my pages as they're cleaned up.
(btw, for those of you who've noticed, yes, two days later, I still have that infernal song stuck in my head)
Didn't know I had so many readers - awesome! Now I have to update more regularly, or I'll be systematically slaughtered, and one of you will have my lovely inked skin to wear as a coat.
It's been a slow few days, though Lia's coming back to town this week, so I'll finally be around a friend on a regular basis - for the first time this summer! I've made it through a month and a half being relatively alone, and surprisingly, my moods have been stable, I'm getting work done, and I'm feeling pretty unstressed.
Just started a new graphic story yesterday, regarding a young teacher suffering from insomnia. Familiar territory, if you will. My drawings seem to be improving, and now that I have a scanner, I can edit text and art on my computer, so this one might actually turn out to be the piece I can attempt to get published. Dog willing. It's hard work doing all that illustrating, and I know I've laid down my pen early on multiple occasions, but I really want to follow through on this - you guys have to keep my nose to the grindstone - in exchange, I'll occasionally post my pages as they're cleaned up.
Friday, July 06, 2007
the question.
Alright, alright... it was something like, "In 1905, this Frankfurt doctor delivered a paper on the subject of a man he had encountered, who said to him, 'I have lost myself.'"
The answer?
"Who is Alzheimer."
I knew this only because I've studied the disease extensively... since it's floating around in my genetics and all...
The answer?
"Who is Alzheimer."
I knew this only because I've studied the disease extensively... since it's floating around in my genetics and all...
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Boomf.
Listening to: Fleetwood Mac - Hold Me
::yawn:: a nice couple of days with visitors; first Sarah, then Steve. Got my social-ness out of my system, and am now ready to hunker down and be my creepy loner self again. Just glad to get the giganto-bong out of my apartment for good (I heart Craigslist - you can get rid of ANYTHING there), and now I have some greens with which to kick back and relax. It's boring on your own.
Wish I'd seen Hall and Oates' concert in person, but considering the downpour last night, I think the tv was a wiser choice.
Oh!
And I got final Jeopardy right tonight - neither of the contestants (other person had been knocked out of FJ due to negative funds) did, but I... I got it.
::yawn:: a nice couple of days with visitors; first Sarah, then Steve. Got my social-ness out of my system, and am now ready to hunker down and be my creepy loner self again. Just glad to get the giganto-bong out of my apartment for good (I heart Craigslist - you can get rid of ANYTHING there), and now I have some greens with which to kick back and relax. It's boring on your own.
Wish I'd seen Hall and Oates' concert in person, but considering the downpour last night, I think the tv was a wiser choice.
Oh!
And I got final Jeopardy right tonight - neither of the contestants (other person had been knocked out of FJ due to negative funds) did, but I... I got it.
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