candesco: Bow, two, and three of a boat and some flowers. (Default)
My lycra came in the mail! It is far more comfortable than it has any right to be, even though it's weirdly baggy on the knees. I'm excited, though! It will be nice not to have to wear shorts and tights to row and to vaguely look like I know what I'm doing. ... sigh, I really am going to end up writing a rowing AU. I JUST WANT A BUMPS RACE WHERE TAZER IS COXING AND REFUSES TO CONCEDE AND SO SOMEONE IN HIS BOAT ENDS UP CONCUSSED, OKAY. It's a totally valid thing to want and I will do it myself if no one else will, dammit. The only problem with this is that all my rowing knowledge is fairly specific to Oxbridge and the idea of any hockey player other than George Parros being at either uni is kind of funny. Whatever, whatever, that's what AUs are for and Frank's incompetent ways of flirting with A really would translate well.

I had my huge meeting to talk about what I should do to pursue the career I want and got the assurance of a stellar reference and the recommendation to go teach at one of the elite private schools in town. It's not -- I don't really want to work there, I would way rather be working in a place where I can actually make a difference (I mean, I guess I needed awesome teachers when I was at the elite private school, whatever), but it does make a lot of sense, just prestige-wise for my resume. Two of the four advertising right now are hiring in the humanities, so I need to start getting cover letters together and double-check some other references (Mom's pastor for the religious schools, my American history prof from undergrad for the position that's in American history). Oh god.

I don't want to be a real grownup. :(

I want to be a real grownup so little that instead of finishing my essay, I'm going to do another shot of cold medicine and go to bed. (I'm still sick, by the way. It's terrible. Have to essay a ton tomorrow and then go see a Vyv. I love that boy.)
candesco: fredegund, the most wicked neustrian queen ever (mfing &fredegund;)
I really love sleep. My relationship with sleep was once tempestuous at best, but now I am super enthusiastic about it. So much so that I apparently injured my left shoulder and right knee in my sleep last night. I rock. Ibuprofen hasn't touched it, so I may need to go out and buy something stronger. I don't mind doing that, though, because medicine is so cheap here! My friends in the United States, have you ever dreamed of getting Tylenol for less than two cents per pill? Blah blah blah exchange rates, but YOU CAN DO THAT HERE. *______*

Today, I helped my mother start a passive-aggressive argument (some mutual friends of ours were posting some really offensive and fatphobic things and my mother may be tiny, but she will cut you for that shit, probably because of having two daughters who were underweight when they DEVELOPED their eating disorders) on Facebook. It was the greatest thing we've done together since my dad died and is making me think we may have our normal relationship again. As much as I miss her, I think having an ocean between us is the best thing that's happened to our relationship.

Other than that, real life is boring, the Jets AND Lightning lost last night, I'm going to work the word "cunning" into this paper on the linguistic turn sometime tonight (people I talk to elsewhere should yell at me if I'm not working from now until Sunday, btw), I need to finish Youngblood in hopes that the guy will do something that doesn't remind me of Patrick Kane (about all he's done so far that hasn't is he was kind of bad at drinking, but whatever, RPF doesn't have canon anyway!!!), and I need to reread the paper I have a meeting about tomorrow. And somewhere in there I might write some really self-indulgent fic because I do not give a fuck.


candesco: Bow, two, and three of a boat and some flowers. (Default)

October 2016



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