tea_and_ink: (fortune teller)
So, I'm on the phone with my brother (yes, you are allowed to look shocked and surprised at this strange occurrence) and he goes on and on about joining a gym and stuff, then asks about my routine (because he totally did not spend like three months with me an itty bitty little while ago), I told him I just did yoga for, like, twenty minutes every morning because I'm too lazy to hit a gym and also, self-conscious. So yoga studio it is, where people is nice and all peaced-out and stuff (not that there aren't types like that in a gym, they're just much more common where I'm at) and he scoffs and says that's not enough work out, where's the muscle and the sweat in that?

Loser.

It is. It totally is a work out, I may not break out a sweat every single time, nor do I have nicely shaped/toned muscles, but that's because I don't feel like spending a hour in a heated room, sweating liters off for the sakes of feeling like a proper work out. I walk everywhere and I eat healthily and I'm way more flexible that he could ever dream of being. ::blows raspberry:: So there.

I was ticked, to I picked up a two liters (about 70 oz?, I'm out of practice with this whole conversions thingy) water bottle and tried some bicep curls, got to fifteen before my bicep started burning and my hand was kinda cramped. Totally the uncomfortable shape of the bottle's fault. Also, I know nothing about bicep curls and fifteen sounds minimal BUT I CAN HOLD THE ENTIRE WEIGHT OF MY BODY IN AWKWARD BALANCING ASANAS FOR, LIKE FIVE BREATHS (which is totally a long time, like thirty seconds, try it) AND LIVE TO TELL THE TALE. So shove it, bro.

Um. Wanna bake some bread, pro'lly will now that the weather seems to have gotten the memo that yes, fall is indeed here, and so it should behave accordingly, dammit!

Today I learned a valuable lesson: chickpeas are the girlfriends of the boypeas. Gender/biology lesson courtesy of the four year-old that joined my group last week. I may fangirl his awesomeness a little.


tea_and_ink: (peeks)
Earlier this morning Einstein tried to jump onto my lap but slipped, in order to avoid hitting the floor in a harmless undignified heap he clung to my arm, after sound cussing and much pain, I wound up with some vaguely questionable-looking scratches on my forearm. Which in and of itself isn't such a remarkable occurrence considering that, well, I have a cat.

But.

I also have a tendency to clumsiness and I'm prone to accidents like cutting my thumb while chopping veggies or something along those lines. Again, nothing note worthy that doesn't happen to everybody and their mamas. I do, however, have this job where I've been seen crying and where people like to assume things out of freaking thin air. Like this mother who came to bring cake for the kiddies and upon looking at the wounds wells scratches on my arm decided to go to the counselor and ask her to see me, the counselor then proceeded to ask about my life, my boyfriend, my career, my family, my potty training everything she could think of to make sure that I was not cutting myself.

Yeah.

I mean, it's understandable, my boyfriend works at a copy shop, my family is spread thing along the entire continent, I'm studying psychology (the forgotten, weaker, lamer cousin twice removed of any kind of natural science) in a university known for it's outstanding (ish) business school, clearly it's gotta be so sad and depressing being me. Clearly self-harm is the natural conclusion.

I wonder what would have happened had I attempted to hide the scratches, or hey, if I didn't have pictures of my cat all over the place in my cellphone. Might have gotten institutionalized right then and there.

Fortunately the counselor saw things for what they were (classicist paranoia, mostly) and let me off the hook. Things were then improved further when checking the flist and finding lovely things such as [livejournal.com profile] winterlive  making people happy out of the goodness of her heart,  Mr POTUS and Mr VPOTUS being kind of awesome (as usual) and, oh yeah, this.

Comments owed and emails to reply to will have to wait until I've showered. Please, before you leave, do take a moment of your time to love on my new icon, thank you.

ewwwwww!

Oct. 18th, 2008 11:20 am
tea_and_ink: (down the barrel of a winchester)
Guess who got puked on today?

Nat, honey. I neglected mentioning to you in the email I just sent that tonight we will hold a staff meeting, specifically called so that yours truly can get ripped a new one because I keep on forgetting that when a child is sick you are not supposed to give him medicine, and so when the boss stops for air (or a cigarette) I shall ask about stuff pertinent to stuff you're interested in. And then the world will be ours, Pinky!

Ugh, I need a shower. And to be boiled. And then another shower.

Jesus H.

tea_and_ink: (DA - OTP)
* I had planned how this was gonna go, but since me and planning ahead don't usually get along, I have forgotten what was the first point. ::shrugs::

* The other day the flower boy and I got into a pretty big fight and have been playing phone tag since, until today when he sent a friend of his (because we are total fifth graders) with a peace offering in the form of Slavoj Zizek's How To Read Lacan. Clearly I will call him myself as soon as I get home, because I know he has no idea what he did, but he's too cute for words and I'm weak and miss him.

* Bought two new plants and named them Sarah II and Tommy. THEY WILL NOT DIE BECAUSE I LAUGH IN THE FACE OF THE UNIVERSE, DAMMIT!

* Got me a new job, which means, there will be NO TA-ing on my part anytime soon. There'll be a lot, like A LOT, of research and statistics at play now, but there won't be any freshman involved and so ::blows raspberry::

* Cas, baby, I am organizing a Jensen pic spam just for you, because I know you need it and I can give it, this is how it works. Just, y'know, be aware of the first point of this post.

* Am listening to Def Leppard because there's nothing like reminiscing your childhood happy moments and actually get the lyrics you used to sing to the top of your lungs when you were wee enough to get away with it, is there?

tea_and_ink: (snapshots)
omg, so tired. ::sleeps on flist::

I just quit my super awesome job of love. Stop. Please to be sending comfort food my way. Stop. Thank you.

::kicks priorities::
tea_and_ink: (42)
First off, y'all have no idea all the awesomesauce, totally amazingly mindblowing blogthings quizzes results you've missed because my LJ simply refused to function properly and stuff. Like, it wouldn't even let me post crap, I mean, you don't realize how basic and irreplaceable a feature it is, until the possibility to post gets mysteriously (and as of yet unexplainedly) taken away from you.

But. Since I'm here, let me tell you about my day. ::gears up::

You know it's one of those days when the first thing that happens to you is your coffee pot making weird noises and stinking up your entire apartment because you forgot to put the water (and the coffee) in before you put it on the fire... yeah.  At work I managed to get my thumb bruised by the cash machine. And the drawer where we keep the money. It's like this, the cash machine is mostly there for show emotional reasons, it doesn't work and according to the lore it hasn't since 1998 when the boss tossed it against a wall (the specifics aren't clear for anyone, but methinks it has something to do with all those anger management books we keep coming across in the storage room) and from that moment on has stubbornly refused to be fixed, the boss, however, is more stubborn(er) and so will not get rid of it because it was the first cash machine he bought with his own money (and it's also very much outdated by now) and whatever, inappropriate workplace love affairs aside, the stupid machine has bouts of joyful life during which it, uh, comes to life and fools distracted dependents into thinking it works, and only when the dependent has come to realize she doesn't know how the machine works because, oh hey it doesn't work,  does the darn thing go back ot its general state of non-functionality, with the dependent's finger trapped under it. That hurt.

But it was worse when the drawer (which has no reason whatsoever to not function properly because it's a drawer) refused to open up and then to close and both times I got my fingers smashed awkwardly.

::weeps:: woe is me. In the meantime, while nursing my poor, bruised, abused fingers, I shall be sitting here wearily eyeing LJ lest it decide it wants to be funny again.

P.S.: I am in an altered state of mind. Please do forgive this post's abundance of commas, italics and possible penchant for unexsitent words (although they do, arguably, exist now that I made them up ::thoughtfully strokes beard::).

tea_and_ink: (writing)
'sup kiddies. Among other things, I've been thinking about how much I love writing, and how much writing is not happening on my end these days. So, here's the deal, I will write you a ficlet/vignette for the fandom of your choice, in exchange for you one-word prompt.

Simple, right? Um, I've written for Supernatural, Dark Angel and Dune in the past, can do so again if you so desire. Am also willing to write in the RPF realm, provided I have some slight grip on the people you want me to tell you about (although I am willing to broaden my horizons, so you can just ask whether I'm not too squeaked/annoyed/in the dark about so and so and I'll tell you if you can expect me to put some effort into it, 'k?)

Um. Since I know y'all're just dying to know what's been going on in my super exciting life: there were some protesters the other day who completely trashed the front window of the coffee shop I work for, resulting in one injured costumer, three damaged chairs, one scratch on my forehead and one very freaked out T. It was not pretty. But at least I get to go home for my b-day since we're closed until T gets his act together (and the city pays for the damages, but that's not as important as the guy who handles the cash).

Since I'm in an impromptu hiatus, I'm offering up my free time for a greater cause. Hello, flist! how's it going?
tea_and_ink: (snapshots)
There's this lady I've known for a while now, and she's always wearing little hats to cover up the effects of the chemo, not that she's was covering the fact that she needs chemo, just what it does to her. Anyway, today she comes in and places her order to another waitress, when I bring her breakfast it hits me, people were looking at her not because of the chemo this time round, but because of what she wouldn't let it do to her.

She's foregone her usual little hats and this morning wears a bubblegum pink wig. When I ask her about it she answers "well, dear. What's one to do? I'm still losing hair, and did you notice how cold it was this morning? You know? I'm pretty sure it's not going away this time around, so I said what the hell, cancer may be killing me, but it's not taking my life away from me"

I cried a little. You know, in my line of work, at the clinic or the institute, even at the coffee shop I'm constantly exposed to the shortcomings of human nature, my heart has been broken so many times and so often I'm beginning to think I keep coming back out of mere masochism. Either that or I'm just way too naive for this career. But just when I'm about to give up, when becoming jaded and cynical seems like the only way to come out of it relatively OK, something like this happens and then it hits me, it's also a part of human nature that need to never give up, that seemingly tireless force that pushes us onwards, and when faced with that, it's the idea of losing my faith in mankind what makes me feel naive.

There are many things wrong with this world of ours (oh, so many), but there are also so many beautiful little shards of light worth fighting for, and this woman today has come to my rescue, yet again, and has showed me the sheer power of the human spirit, has reminded why is it that I believe in people and chose to do what I do.
tea_and_ink: (peeks)
::sigh:: this place is slow today. Are people not needing morning jolts anymore? Did I sleep through some major scientific break-through? Am I in some sort of alternate reality? WHERE IS THE PEOPLE?

In other news, I'm cold.

Loves ya lots, me.
tea_and_ink: (Alec)
1. Am taking a cigarette break without any actual cigarette being involved ::hides from supervisor::, I feel so sneaky.

2. The bf (whom from now on shall be referred to as S) brought me flowers to work this morning, effectively outing our relationship to my co-workers. But that's not the cool part, the cool part is that he was completely unfazed by my forgetting to mention my new "status" to the people I work with, that guy knows me well enough to last a while ::is happy::. Oh, and the flowers? are edible. I really, really like him.

3. I need recs of books/fanfiction about dystopias. This is of the most importance to my future and incidentally happens to be the reason I'm taking a cigarette break at all. So, get to it flist, hook a girl up and I'll bake and eat cookies in your honor, deal?
tea_and_ink: (coffee)
I got a job! Yay

I'll be working behind the counter in the morning shift at a coffeeshop. I'm deliriously happy. Finally I'll get a paycheck and all that!

Sadly this will reduce my writing hours a little, but I enjoy a good challenge, so Mousey, before you start hyperventilating, I want you to know that I will not abandon ship!
It's only a half time job so that'll leave me the whole afternoon and most of the night to have a life. Which is where the writing comes in.

OMG I got a job!

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tea_and_ink: (Default)
olé nonetheless
...and your heart held out like a tin cup to catch the rain...

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