adiva_calandia: (running down the road)
So I'm on my way back to Alaska. I caught a cab to the airport this morning at 10:30 ($49, including tip); right now it's 11:53. My plane leaves at 1:31, boards at 1:01.

The half-hour long cab ride was mostly filled with the cab driver delivering a rant that would've made Glenn Beck weep with joy. (He led off with "Do you believe in global warming?" and when I said yes, I do, I'm an Alaskan and we see the ice caps melting every year, he was off. He told me Sarah Palin was being responsible when she quit the governorship because "she didn't want to spend the taxpayers money on a buncha lawsuits." He told me he wanted "FREE--DOM -- not regulation" and ranted about the government bailout of Fannie Mae. When I said that there's a problem not just with the government backing an institution pissing away the money, but with the institution itself, he agreed, but when I asked if he thought there should've been more government oversight in that case, he yelled "LESS." There was a lot of yelling. It was frankly a little nerve-wracking, not to mention surreal. I almost asked him about tea parties.)

When I got to the airport, my confirmation number wouldn't work, and I had to make a poor United rep juggle getting me my boarding passes, and dealing with an annoyed women with two small daughters. (Cute kids.)

And when I got into Security finally, I got held up because I had been an utter idiot and left an Exacto in my backpack after some lobby display session or other. (I had also left my Leatherman Mini in there, feeling fairly sure that nobody would notice it. Maybe they wouldn't have, if not for the Exacto. WHOOPS. Now I have neither Leatherman nor Exacto. So kudos to the TSA: they are, in fact, doing their jobs right, and making sleepy stressed college kids have heart attacks into the bargain.)

I hope like hell that burned up all my travel karma for this trip, because I have a long way left to go. And in a few months, I'll have even longer -- all the way to Athens.

(Man, the worst part of traveling -- not to mention of the end of the semester -- is the constant niggling feeling that you've forgotten something.)

And then I get into stuff that's probably more interesting to people at CMU than my f-list, but I include it here for completeness' sake. )
adiva_calandia: (Default)

My study abroad forms are all done and I have an appointment with my study abroad advisor tomorrow to make sure they're all in order -- and even though I screwed up and didn't send one form to U of OR earlier, Chris assures me that it won't be a problem.

I have eleven pages of the twelve page Tibet paper that's due tomorrow, and probably two or three pages' worth of material, so that's awesome.

We had two potential subletters tour the house today, and one of them was weird and I don't think she wants it anyway, but the other was AWESOME and she's a Medieval History major and she liked the Firefly posters in the dining room and apparently owns a Chia Obama and she'll take either of the open rooms and I want to live with her OH and she says she's vaguely obsessive-compulsive about paying things early or on time. BEST SUBLETTER EVER. PLEASE COME LIVE WITH US.

And I got snowflakes! !!! What's up with that? Thank you, [ profile] calluna and [ profile] lienne! <3 ETA: And [ profile] silveraspen! :O

Oh, and it snowed yesterday. Finally. It didn't stick, but. :D :D :D
adiva_calandia: (Default)

1. Acting journal (just need to print it out)
2. Text work (print out assignment 2, three-hole punch the whole shebang, turn it in)

3. E-mail Ingrid re: conference
4. Finish filling out study abroad paperwork so that all you have to do Monday is get the signature from the ML dep't and turn it in
5. "Representations of Tibet" paper
6. Return library books
7. Figure out a damn topic for final Medieval Lit paper

I find it ironic that I feel way way worse physically when I've had, like, 24 oz. of coffee than I do when I've had two mixed drinks and a beer.
adiva_calandia: (running down the road)
Guess who's skipping yoga this morning?

Guess who's got an eight-page draft of a paper she's barely started due Monday?

Guess who's got two big projects due Tuesday?

But more importantly than all that:

Guess who's going to Athens in the spring?

:D :D :D :D :D


Oct. 17th, 2009 01:15 pm
adiva_calandia: (Default)
So KL's birthday is Monday, and mine was Wednesday, so we're having a joint birthday party tonight. It being so close to Halloween, we've invited people to dress up. KL and I are dressing as each other.

Now, this is KL:

Pics! )

And this is me:

More pics! )

And this is both of us as Bad Horse Henchpokes:

Plus our third Henchpoke, who will be joining LD and I in our Lady Star Trek costumes as Spock. )

You may notice that KL and I have some significant differences in the measurements area. By which I mean she's freaking Marilyn Monroe and I, by comparison, am . . . I don't know, Natalie Portman. (Hah. I wish.)

Which is why I'm currently wearing a bra several cup sizes too big for me, stuffed with two bandannas and a pair of socks. (My cleavage still doesn't even come close to hers.)

Best birthday party ever? Best birthday party ever.

(Apparently ES is also dressing as me for the party. Dressing as me is so easy. I have no style. I wear jeans and a shirt and occasionally Converse sneakers, and that's about all that can be said for me. Oh, and glasses, and often a sports bra + camisole. A few years ago people could've dressed as me by wearing bandannas over their hair, but alas, not really so much any more.)
adiva_calandia: (Default)
A few days ago I was reflecting that 21 doesn't seem that much different than 20, or even 18. I feel outstripped by freshmen regularly. I certainly don't feel like I've got a handle on everything, and I had sort of expected to by now, you know? 21 seems like . . . a handle-having age.

Then I was looking back at journal entries from 2007, my senior year of high school.

Oh God. If you ever need proof that you've matured and changed over time, look at old journal entries.

I suppose that's the important point. Today I'm 21, and I don't really have a handle on things -- but I'm closer than I was a few years ago, and in a few years I'll be closer yet.

I secretly think that no one ever really gets a handle on things, you just learn to fake it and stumble along, and then every so often you'll find that you do know what you're doing, in one sphere at least. And that's kind of scary as hell -- but it's kind of great, too.

Now then. An 8 AM class as a way to start off your 21st birthday kind of sucks, but needs must.


Oct. 1st, 2009 08:12 am
adiva_calandia: (Default)
Oh my fuck, I'm going to be 21 in two weeks.
adiva_calandia: (All will be well)
So one thing that has been interesting is watching my Facebook feed for reactions to all this. I've taken screenshots, removed names (and pictures) for privacy's sake, and now share them with the Internet at large. They're not in any particular order.

Screenshots below the cut. )

The attitude, at least of CMU students (which comprise most -- all? -- of those statuses), seems to be primarily anti-protestor, although a little bit anti-police, too. That said, a friend of mine came up to me earlier beaming hugely and told me she's just been to the protest rally. "I wish I could march!"

"What are they protesting?" I asked.

". . . Everything. Everyone who's against anything is there! It's awesome!"

"Oh. Anyone there for anything?"

She blinked at me. "Justice," she said decidedly after a moment. "And human rights," warming to her subject, "Free Tibet, Free Palestine . . . Plenty of people for stuff."

"Oh. Okay."

I don't know how I feel, except that I don't think people should throw rocks.

adiva_calandia: (At Tara)
Fire engine going up Forbes towards Squirrel Hill, sirens wailing, 1 PM on the dot.

ETA: Thought. Pittsburgh = zombies . . . all the world leaders are in town . . . vast numbers of law enforcement types with guns are around . . .

Somebody wants to write me a drabble about the Obamas grabbing guns off their Secret Service detail and fighting off a zombie apocalypse, right?
adiva_calandia: (At Tara)
Campus this morning was very, very quiet, if you don't count the half-dozen police I passed on my way to class. There was a cool haze over everything; I couldn't decide if it was atmospherically appropriate or not. The artistic shantytown that's sprung up by the Fence looked like it hadn't woken up yet. Compared to yesterday, when all the people living in the shantytown were outside playing accordions and guitars and hanging out shirtlessly, it was . . . rather eerie.

Yesterday I walked by an orange-shirted ACLU Legal Observer. That unnerved me more than the cops. The ACLU shows up to make sure nobody's rights are being taken away, which made me think I was more likely to have my rights taken away than the mere presence of police did.

Anyway. The first sign of protest I've seen all day is a Free Tibet parade I just saw walking down Forbes. When cars started to honk at them, and drivers waved and gave thumbs-ups out their window, I realized for the first time -- this is a big deal. The buses driving by display 28X -- AIRPORT FLYER -- PITTSBURGH WELCOMES THE WORLD.

I feel, suddenly, that I should be doing something. I don't want to be in a riot, but I want to be -- I want to lose myself in a collective briefly and be part of something bigger than myself.

There's an art parade tonight at 5, starting at the Fence. I have a meeting at 5:30, but . . . I can spend fifteen minutes raising a cheerful noise.

adiva_calandia: (Are you -- Nobody -- Too?)
  1. Me, to roomie: "Psst. I'm naming my Beowulf paper 'Epic Fail.'"

  2. Colloquium professor: "But when Godzilla comes, all you can do is yell 'AAAAH GOJIRA' and run, right? [to our Tokyo-born sound design grad student] Right, Hidenori?"
    Hidenori: "Right."

  3. Shakespeare professor: "Remember, guys, class is cancelled on Friday because of the OMFG-20." oh my GOD SHE IS THE BEST. WANT TO GROW UP TO BE HER.
adiva_calandia: (CMU Dramaturg)
I did my diagnostic scene! It went REALLY well! People laughed! People told me I was adorable! I was wearing a plaid miniskirt and so many people went "!!!" because of it! FUCK YEAH.

My hair did, as predicted, get in my eyes, but hopefully the profs won't criticize too heavily for it.

And one of my freshmen came up to me afterward and told me, in an undertone, "Somebody told me that they only let pretty people into the School of Drama, unless you're a dramaturg, or you're gay, because then it doesn't matter. But you are a dramaturg, and you're . . . not not pretty. I'm so proud of you every time you do stuff with us! I'm like 'yeah, that's my dramaturg!'"

adiva_calandia: (Piano playing)
Read Sir Orfeo for Medieval Lit class . . .

. . . Read Geoffrey Chaucer Hath a Blog.

Decisions, decisions.

(Last night I read one of Heloise's letters to Abelard for this class. Holy crap, HOT:

God knows I never sought anything in you except yourself; I wanted simply you, nothing of yours. I looked for no marriage-bond, no marriage portion, and it was not my own pleasures and wishes I sought to gratify, as you well know, but yours. The name of wife may seem more sacred or more binding, but sweeter for me will always be the word mistress, or, if you will permit me, that of concubine or whore.

... I beg you, think what you owe me, give ear to my pleas, and I will finish a long letter with a brief ending: farewell, my only love.

I think I know what I'm stealing next time I write a letter.)

ETA: ahahaha now we're getting into Guinevere-Arthur-[knight] stories. CHARACTER BLEED AHOY.
adiva_calandia: (Merry Fucking Christmas)

In all the hullabaloo of moving in and starting school and making ~chore charts~, we lost and did not pay the power bill.

So they shut off our power, and it's going to cost about $50 from each of us to get it back on.

In the long run, this is probably not a big deal -- I'm about to go drop off a $2000 check so that I can eat on-campus this semester, and $50 pales a little next to that -- and it's a good learning experience, but. Man. I mean, I just wrote two checks totaling about $50 yesterday for groceries and the water bill. It's frustrating -- and I'm frustrated at myself as much as at anyone else.

In lighter news, my self-concert (five minute theatrical "introduction to yourself") in Acting went over well.
adiva_calandia: (CMU Dramaturg)
I just have to say:

I kept getting distracted during Star Trek because I was trying to spot the CMU training in Zach Quinto's performance. (Is that Standard American? I wondered. No, too much R-coloration and no ask-list. General, then? Wow, I'm a dork. Holy jeez, look at the way his shirt fits. Look at Chris Pine's eyes! What was I talking about?)

Because, of course, one of the things I secretly loved about taking Speech I with Natalie Baker Shirer was the knowledge that I was getting the same training Patrick Wilson and ZQ got. I mean, dude, that's pretty awesome. Natalie teaches Speech I -- Standard American Dialect -- foreign accents, and voiceover. (Don Wadsworth teaches dialects of English.) I know for a fact she taught Patrick Wilson voiceover skills; I assume she taught ZQ, too. (She said I could take accents and voiceover with her, which is something of an honor in my head since I'm not in the acting program. They like me, they really like me!)

So all the posts I keep seeing about ZQ's awful accents and generally hilarious performance on the Star Trek novelization audiobook strike me as twice as awesome because I know just how many hours of classwork are going into this . . . and coming out as monster noises.

It gives me warm fuzzies.


In other news, I am a) trying to get a new battery for my computer and b) getting a haircut today, so I may be offline most of today if you're looking for me.
adiva_calandia: (running down the road)
So I turned in my African-American Lit paper.

So I helped roomie haul most of her stuff down to her car (she's coming back here later for the rest of her stuff, and to haul mine to the house for me, but she has an interview in NYC to get to) and said goodbye.

So I leave here tomorrow morning at 6 AM.

So I've got one box of winter clothes and papers packed up, and one box of books and plays, but I still have all my other clothes and a lot of random crap to deal with, not to mention finishing the casebook for One Flea Spare.

So I really should get some food and go stop into the Study Abroad office and see if they'll let me fill out some paperwork.

So I'm feeling lonely, and a little overwhelmed still.

In a lot of ways I can't wait to go home.
adiva_calandia: (Piano playing)
Lately I've been getting this odd feeling that maybe -- just maybe -- I'm pretty cool. And that people outside my head and my laptop think so.

Roundup of ego-boosts from this semester )
Mind you, I'm still waiting for a date, so things ain't perfect. But they seem to be pretty good.

Today I am, hopefully, signing the lease for the house I'll be living in next year. I'm also working my ass off trying to get all my papers in line (although having taken a look at the calendar, they seem to be spaced out in such a way that they'll be fairly doable).

Tangentially related, holy crap, how freaking awesome is Janis Joplin? Pretty freaking awesome. And gorgeous to boot. Screw the people in my Rock'n'Roll class who disagree. (And for the record, Bob Dylan was ALSO gorgeous, no matter what Sandage says. He's admittedly a little scary-looking these days. Ah, well.)
adiva_calandia: (Default)
The guy who played Cinderella's Prince in our Into the Woods saw me in the lobby this evening and told me I did a fantastic job at our beat poetry presentation Tuesday.

It's enough to make a girl think she's still got some acting chops.

That was not the most exciting thing that happened today, though. That distinction goes to the not-very-exciting-but-fairly-tense saga of taking roomie to the ER with what we thought was appendicitis. (It was not; current diagnosis is a particularly nasty stomach virus. She's spent most of the day sleeping and I've spent most of the day fretting and being aggressively maternal and business-like.)

The third most exciting thing that happened today was that I cancelled my housing agreement with CMU, which means I am one step closer to officially living off campus next year. More on that by the end of the weekend, when I hopefully will have the lease signed and everything.

(While roomie slept, I went to a show tonight with one of next year's housemates. "I'd like to get together Sunday so we can see if there are any last questions with the lease and get them all signed," I told her.

"What all do we actually need to do?" she asked.

". . . Well, this, that, and the other thing," I said. "Did you already do that?"

"No," she said, "I figured you'd tell me what to do and then I'd do it."

". . . Please don't ever make me do this again," I said, "because I've already had three breakdowns over it. Seriously."

Such things make me facepalm, rather, about the prospect of living with people, but I have faith in my ability to smack people into action, particularly when I'm in the same living space as them. I just hope it doesn't come down to smacking people on a regular basis. Also since when has a stage manager needed to be told to do something? Stage managers find out what needs to be done and then do it before anyone has to ask them/tell them!)

Oof. I need to go to bed. On a less RL front, I know I have a bunch of threads with people that I haven't been keeping up with very well. Mea culpa, mea culpa, but I'm not going to be getting any better at keeping up with those for at least another two weeks. I have eight or nine final projects and papers due between now and May 7th, when I head back to Alaska, plus finishing up this lease stuff and packing; things are, obviously, going to have to be prioritized.
adiva_calandia: (Default)
People I have been pondering throwing into [ profile] mixed_muses:

1. Jude Quinn.

2. Ringo Starr (c. A Hard Day's Night).

3. A different Jude.

Guess where we are in Roots of Rock 'n' Roll? >.>

Also, have any of you heard of Masked and Anonymous? Holy God. Jeff Bridges. Penelope Cruz. John Goodman. Cheech. Jessica Lange. And Bob Dylan looking DEEPLY uncomfortable every time he has to say a line. HILARITY. (Good music, though! Which sort of makes up for Dylan's lack of screen presence.)


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