ink_n_imp: (Indie Snakes On a Plane)
The fate of the MTA fare hike and of commuting NYers' everywhere rests in the hands of a couple of Long Island legislators?

...Holy crap. We are SO FUCKED.

I'd go into my MTA rant here, explaining to all your non-NYCers what's going down and why this is like the End Times for all us poor commuting folks what depend on public trans for our ENTIRE LIVES but...shit son. I just don't have the energy for it.
So, once again I am participating in a little original story writing exchange thingamabob called [ profile] thingsunwritten. And once again, absolutely, completely, positively and utterly true to form, I've tossed what I began the first week I got my writing request right out the window, and have started a completely new beast of a story.

Seriously, I've gone from rewriting the Grimm fairy tale of Snow White and Rose Red as a very thinly veiled allusion to Mary Queen of Scots and Queen Elizabeth I with some magic and romance thrown into the mix, and instead am writing a romantic buddy comedy about a Knight and a Godmother who have to protect a Princess throughout her childhood set in the vaguely middle ages.

(Romance and Magic were requested, btw.)

I feel like I need to draw myself a new icon, a picture of a skeleton covered in cobwebs, hunched over one of those monastic work stations, quill still in hand with only "WIP" as the text. If only I were a better drawer!

Ah well. Back to work. This sucker is due the 23rd, and DANGNABIT I AIM TO PLEASE!!!

EDIT: IfOnce I finish this story, I am entirely pouring libations to the kind soul who uploaded the Pinocchio soundtrack to a music lj I'm part of. That soundtrack it practically writing the thing for me!
When my grandparents and parents immigrated from Sicily to this fine country in the 1960's, most of them had to find work in the garment business, as there weren't many jobs for high school educated Sicilians elsewhere (most were skilled in trades, just lacking in the book learning). They worked in the sweatshops in Brooklyn for years, even my mom did for a few summers when she was in high school.

HOWEVER, my dad's dad was a little higher up on the garment making food chain because in Sicily he had been a tailor like his father before him and his father before him. And when he went to get a job (so I'm told) he was hired as a pattern maker. Designers would draw up their designs, and since they were generally ignorant in how to translate those drawings into clothes that were cheap and easy to produce, the drawings would be send to my grandda and he'd figure out the actual pattern for it.

I mention this long winded background of personal family history because right now, I think I'm making the poor man turn in his grave. Without any experience in these matters except for nearly breaking my mom's sewing machine several times and teaching myself how to work around a needle and thread for emergencies, I'm making a Wizard of Oz Dorothy costume for the camp Wizard of Oz skit on Friday. I dragged my grandfather's clothing manikin from the guest room, and right now I haveā€¦

This! )

I need to shorten the torso, but right now it's just all pinned there, waiting for me to take it downstairs and nearly break mom's sewing machine again sewing it together.

All this I'm doing, as if I didn't have ENOUGH on my plate to get done for camp tomorrow.

May God Have Mercy On My Soul.

EDIT: Finished in two and a half hours?


Finished dress!! )
I don't know what it is about Anthropology that makes me make really, really indecisively rash decisions.

Actually, that's not entirely true. I've been vaguely toying with this idea for a while now, I only DECIDED for it in one fell swoop. But, much like when I went to the 6-week field school in Maryland in the spurt of the moment, in the last three days I've decided to spend my entire June in Erie, Pennsylvania.

'But what endless possibilities could there possibly be for you there, Nella!?' you may ask.

In short, bones. In long form, Mercyhurst College's Forensic Anthropology Summer Short Courses. I've been flirting with forensic anthropology for...eek gads, too long, but definitely since I took the Intro course at NYU. And--as the fall doth approaches, and the time for applying for grad school is nigh--it's do or die for me to figure out what the hell it is I want to go to grad school for. True, I could just hold on applying for another year but where's the fun in that! Let's spend the summer agonize over the direction my professional life will take and how I'll be able to support myself, let's worry about where my heart truly lies, let's roll the dice and take some classes and see if I can't find a winner!...or in the very least, knock a few possibilities off my list.

What amuses me is that this is EXACTLY what I was going through when I was choosing my major back in the sophomoric NYU year of my college youth. I seriously had a hand written list of some 13 majors that interested me, and I went DOWN THAT LIST and PHYSICALLY crossed one off at a time, forcing myself to research each and narrow my choices until I was left with Biology, History, and Anthropology. It wasn't until I took two Anthro courses that spring that was I caught hook, line and you know it.

So, I suppose the point of this post is that in the four weeks I'm at Mercyhurst, I'm hoping to FINALLY get an idea if this Forensic Anthropology stuff is for me. I mean, if by the time we're blowing up pigs in cars to practice mass fatality disaster reconstruction I'm still undecided about Forensic Anthropology, and I would THINK it would be safe to say it's not my cuppa tea.

UNRELATED: My GOD I need to overhaul and consolidate my tags. And maybe even actually start USING them.
I'm not doing NEARLY as well on my GRE computer practice tests as I do on the GRE paper tests. There's just something critical getting lost in translation between looking at the screen, my scrap paper, and the screen again. This is worrisome, seeing as my test is at 1 p.m. this Saturday. With that said, if you don't hear from me, I'm not dead, I'm allowing this GRE practice stuff consume my soul.


For something competely different, so that I can take my mind off of all this misery for a bit, it is a damned good thing I never realized in high school how awesome some of the songs are from "The Scarlet Pimpernel". They are INSANELY ADDICTIVE. My Musical-Theater-Singing Tourette Sydrome (MTSTS)'s would have really been heniously annoying if I had had "The Riddle", or "Falcon in the Dive", or "The Creation of Man"* under my belt.

On that note...if anyone, oh, HAS "The Creation of Man", and would like to make me squee like a fangirl who's run out of Ritalin and get to call dibs on picking the middle name for my second born--all these things could be YOURS, if you only pass the song along to me ^_^

EDIT: So, the middle name of my second born will now be "Nathaniel" thanks to [ profile] mosellegreen's quick acting.
Oh Good Lord. Oh Good Lord, forensic anthropology. I've been studying, but it's all one big jumble in my brain. The exam's at 9:55 AM tomorrow morning...sleep has been officially suspended until post-exam tomorrow. I got a brief respite from stomach-gnawing worrying by meeting up with [ profile] singealiene at Pizzeria Uno, but now the stomach-gnawing worrying is back, and I probably shouldn't have eaten so much. Though that deep dish cookie thing with ice cream was Heaven in a Dish.

A Shower and then Tea. That should focus me a little bit. Just have to keep reminding myself the exam isn't until 9:55, and if I just review one fact at a time I'll be fine. Really!

I was going to post a different song, but this one got bumped up to number 7 as it most fits my mood this night. That's right boys and girls, it's:

7) The Night Santa Went Crazy by Wierd Al

December 2010

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