I am slightly less angry at [thing I was angry at four hours ago]. Slightly.

prefacing, I am totally going to whine at you later. Exist on AIM!

Anyway, TWENTY DAYS UNTIL MOVE-IN. That means I have nineteen days to clear all of my crap out of here, figure out what I'm taking, what's going into storage at the very secure location of my grandparents' basement, what needs to be dismantled, etc etc.

Tomorrow: Eye appointment.
Thursday: Hair appointment.
Friday: Go into Toronto, look at computer. I think I've finally found the perfect computer but the only Sony store is an hour's train ride away. I don't intend to buy it until I get all my cheques but I want to at least look at it, especially after Best Buy pissed me the fuck off. No, I am not a middle-aged male. Thank you for reassuring me that means I am less worthy of service and attention! I definitely intend to buy a computer from you now. (The only thing that kept me from complaining is, I've worked retail and customer service. They don't care. I know this, because I didn't care. Neither did the upper management. I laughed and told funny stories of, "this customer got angry and it was like poking a bear, tee hee." YEAH.) ...I went on a real tangent. Several!
Weekend: Packing, packing, packing.
Monday: Go to St. Catharines, pick up Brock card from Brock card office.
Tuesday: Uh...

I need to schedule in "hyperventilate, panic, quit everything" time, clearly.

A professor defends fanfiction.

Most of the history of Western literature (and probably much of non-Western literature, but I can’t speak to that) is adapted or appropriated from something else. Homer wrote historyfic and Virgil wrote Homerfic and Dante wrote Virgilfic (where he makes himself a character and writes himself hanging out with Homer and Virgil and they’re like “OMG Dante you’re so cool.” He was the original Gary Stu).

I giggled lots.

The thing that was most interesting to me was the fact that praising originality and dismissing all else is a modern concept -- I had never put the pieces together from "ontological argument" to "collective unconscious" to "holy shit you wrote a story about the heroic journey of sharks, I WROTE A STORY ABOUT THE HEROIC JOURNEY OF SHARKS!" Suddenly having horrible flashbacks to high school English and how I read The Lottery at least three different times.

I wonder why the chain stops with Virgilfic. Did no one want to hang out with Dante, hanging out with Virgil and Homer?

My uncle is going to be a regular on the second season of Intervention: Canada. Now, I didn't even know there was an Intervention: Canada. I've spent plenty of time rolling my eyes at whatever Intervention promos I see on TV, much in the way I roll my eyes at every other sort of real life sensation TV show in existence, like Hoarders or that one about three year-old children who are entered into beauty pageants. This stuff is just sensationalising the very real flaws of equally real people even though the people do presumably agree to be filmed like this, the entire thing makes my stomach turn. Especially for something like real timed interventions for people struggling with genuine addictions, I don't want to see that shit. Closed doors exist for a reason.

(Here is where I deleted a full-blown rant about how much I don't like TV, since a lot of it was just my usual cynicism. So I'll say: I don't like TV. Once you understand that, you understand Jes!)

However, to each their own. I don't have any right to tell other people what to find enjoyment in on TV. I would never make the decision my uncle did, to be a part of something like that, but his reasons are his own and I'm not aware of them. I only hope he's happy and enjoys what he does.



Anyway, you all should continue telling me about your desktop computers while I am gleefully basking in the delusion that one day, I will have money again.

MONO. :D

Maybe.

I will know on Tuesday. So much for, "it's just the flu, I don't really need to rest, my body can defeat this through sheer will power!"

So I spent two nights in a hotel and came home sick as a dog.

The funniest part is that my symptoms don't make any sense. I started out with a sore throat, exhaustion (to the point where I have gotten quite accustomed to the floors of my house, through the incredibly technical process of... lying on them) and some other stuff I can't remember. Also, reading words. Reading words has been very difficult. Words are thrown at me and I'm just like, ".../blink," because it's kind of like having a throwing star careening right toward your face, all you can do is blink and think, "hey, is that a throwing star?" and then it slices right through your skull and you still have no idea what that big block of words said and I kind of combined eight different metaphors into one and none of them included dinosaurs. :(

So it's kind of symptom salad all up in here. Ingredients are added in, taken away, and then the salad bowl is left an exhausted mess barely able to stand for what its body is doing to it and it's not actually a salad bowl, it's me. I'm the salad bowl. And I'm tired of being sick! :D

On the plus side, I shared an elevator with actual INTERNET CELEBRITIES.



...I hope I didn't infect them. D:

It is now time for:

I have so much shit I have to do before Monday and I haven't done any of it.

( And I think my packing process is flawed because apparently I'm NOT DONE? )

Being waitlisted for a residence bed is a very unfair system.

If I get offered a bed before the term starts and decline it, I lose all of my $600 deposit. If I don't get offered a bed, my $600 deposit gets put toward my tuition fee and I have no place to live and will have to scramble due to the aforementioned first sentence stipulations. If I get offered a bed and accept it -- well, who fucking knows if that will even happen, even though at no point was I told that having a place to live would be in jeopardy. If I put my right foot in and put my right foot out, I'm sure I'll still be fucked over somehow!



Also, I stacked the comments with panda gifs. I'm not sorry.

Have you done your good deed for the day yet? No?

Then go help this sick kitten. For science. (Or at least boost the signal if you don't have anything to give?)

Yesterday, I thought to myself, "You know what could be a thing?"

( This is what could be a thing! )

I've been fully entrenched in MCU stuff and Anime North stuff (are you going? if you are, I'd love to buy you lunch!) and work stuff and once in a while RP stuff, but I'm actually starting to feel better about life and things. I am hoping, for real this time, the worst has past. Obviously I am very grateful to the lovely people who have listened to my sads and have helped cheer me up when I needed it, because what am I if not a major sap.

You all are awesome.

But, not, I am sorry to say, as awesome as Agent Coulson, Son of Coul, occasionally Phil, the most badass man in a suit ever.



I am fangirling him so hard right now.

Where's my Coulson movie, Marvel?