seiberwing: (Fierce hat is fierce)
I have gainful employment! Somewhat.

About a month ago I dropped off my resume at Staldog 13*, a pet daycare a little bit south of here. I'd previously come in to ask about volunteer work, but they'd suggested I give them my resume just in case. Last Wednesday Dogboss** called me and said that they were looking for a part-time worker, and that mine was the best resume they had. Not sure what that says about the other resumes, given that I have no pet car experience, but perhaps they were impressed that I hadn't come in directly looking for paid work. He offered me the chance to start on Friday, which I summarily did.

The pay's not great and with 18 hours a week it's hardly enough to live on, but it's money coming in and as jobs go it's not so bad. Hours are very flexible and I can have Wednesdays open so I can keep doing my volunteering at the food pantry. Everyone there seems pretty nice, I think my major complaint about the working environment is that I have bad cell phone/texting reception in the building for no clear reason.

As to the work itself, it's some combination of preschool teaching and bartending. You keep an eye on the customers, you break up fights, you feed and water them, you try to make sure they go to the bathroom in the right place and clean up when they don't. It's not particularly exciting (one of the other workers described it as hectic, which confused me because I'm awfully bored some of the time) but everyone is nice and the dogs are very fun when they're not tearing into each other. Apparently dogs also get The Mondays and are particularly crabby at the beginning of the week. Aside the troublemakers they're also fairly friendly, and I got to spend the last half hour of my shift chilling in the front room during break/doggy nap time while one of them fell asleep with his head in my lap.

Obviously it's not going to be my career choice, even if I could make a living wage at it. I need something fast-paced and exciting, and watching dogs be dogs doesn't hold a candle to the excitement of volunteering at the food pantry. But it's better than matters as they were.

*not actual name of business
**not actual name of boss
seiberwing: (Default)
I am going out to Daley Plaza in the heart of downtown wearing my costume from Convergence. Wish me luck.

I have a wingman, but if he laughs I'm beating him with my spider cane and going home.

(Also I feel a bit weird looking for him from the window of my apartment, which has a good view of where he'd be waiting. It's very Dracula-in-his-castle, with this getup.)

EDIT: On the other hand I refrained from beating him with my spider cane because he was so drop-dead boring, if only out of courtesy to those around me. One long silence in a conversation is awkward. After the third time I start to think you've got nothing useful to say.

*drool*

Oct. 22nd, 2011 02:37 pm
seiberwing: (Fierce hat is fierce)
The second trailer for Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is out.

I have never seen a trailer that indulged every single kink, genre fondness, weaponry fixation, character interaction preference, snark glee, and action movie fuck yeah fangirlism that I seem own, all in the course of two minutes. Victorian Steampunk Batman is gonna rock.

The slash from that train scene alone RDJ how are you so sexy in drag MY GOD MAN
seiberwing: (Notice Me)
So, for the first time in over a year, I have a job. A tiny three day temp assignment working prep and registration at a business conference at a hotel downtown. It's not particularly complex or illustrious work. Yesterday was packing goodies and papers into tote bags, today was printing badges and tomorrow is likely to be the same as today but not as long. The only job perks are the friendly coworkers and the free food stolen from the various exhibition stands, and the only hazards are the protesters.

(Yeah, Occupy Chicago doesn't like our employing organization very much. They were protesting the hotel heavily last night and Monday night. My particular conscience isn't heavy on this, because the only way I'm aiding them is by making the captains of industry wait 5 seconds less time in line and taking a little of the bag-stuffing heat off my sisters in temp work.)

Yesterday was 9-5, today was 7-5, and the tomorrow that is rapidly becoming today will be 8-5. I'm exhausted and my legs hurt. And I feel great. It's not even the work itself, or the mild pay, it's just the feeling of getting up in the morning and going to do something and coming back in the evening and relaxing on one's laurels. You feel like a worthwhile person instead of a leech, if only in between wishing the day would just end already.

Not that there aren't side benefits even to waking up at 5am. Chicago's always beautiful to me but in the dawn it's breathtaking. I walked down to the train with A2 while it was still dark and when I'd finally climbed my way out of the underground (because the Blue Line's one of the few trains that doesn't have the decency to give us an elevated tour of the downtown area (rather than going around under the floor) the light had just started to break across the buildings. The streets were hardly deserted, even at six thirty the city's already roused itself out of bed and gone off to begrudgingly start the coffee maker, but it was calm. Just people wandering their way to work between the shadows of massive buildings and across massive slabs of concrete dust from where they've been tearing up the sidewalk for no good reason, and past the Panera with its lights half on and a lone man sitting by the window with a laptop and a sandwich. I'm well-aware of the reports that we're going to have the worst winter on record this year and that I might get something slightly more prestigious if I was more flexible about location but I can adore Chicago through epic blizzards and a ten hour workday. I'm staying until I get that full time job with the nice office, and then I'm going to work at that job, and it will be lovely.

...

Mom still thinks I need to start writing my novel. What with this being the exciting, developing time in my life where I have a lot of spare time. Not that I have an idea for a novel or any inclination to write one, but she's finished hers and thinks I could write an even better one. One thing at a fucking time, mom.
seiberwing: (Safeword)
Someone posted this interview with Teen Titans writesr Scott Lobdella nd Brett Booth on a message board I often frequent, and the crowd does not appear to be pleased. Self included.

I admit up front that I don't know Lobdell and Booth from Miller and Liefeld. My exposure to modern comics is limited and often filtered through hearsay and fanfiction. If they have a good track record writing minorities and this is some badly worded aberration I'd be happy to alter my opinion. But the more comic-oriented fanpeople on the board did not seem confident, so for now I'll take them at their word. Their very, very problematic word.

Interview and personal ranting below the cut. )
Again, not familiar with their work, I might be taking this all wrong, but...as it stands, it's a little icky.
seiberwing: (Carter's Mind)
I think I may have gotten into some bad sushi. Or perhaps sent a job application to the very, very wrong company and this is part of the interview process. Or possibly my roommate brought back some presents ancient curse from the Outer Banks and it's bounced on to me.

Either way, I've got tentacles now. )
seiberwing: (Objection!)
I found a most intriguing thing in a magazine at the doctor's office. Of course part of the intriguing thing was that a) this bit of strangeness was in Esquire Magazine and b) there is an Esquire Magazine at the OBGYN. It's a little article editorial whatever you want to call it, two pages from the end of a very thick magazine, lurking like a poisonous snake in a mound of gold braid.

The title is "MY NAME IS SMOKEY" with subtitle "Do you have room for a special pooch like me?". Pictured with an image of a blue eyed dog looking up at the camera in a way that is only unnerving when you've stared at it for a while. It starts out normal enough, one of those appeals to emotion that make you feel like a horrible person for not owning at least one shelter dog.

And then it gets...weird. )

There's a story hook somewhere in here. Family adopts odd dog, or some manner of Hellhound Rescue Agency promoting the adoption of strange eldritch canines. I just wish I knew what.
seiberwing: (Default)
Minor PSA to people looking for [livejournal.com profile] alanahikarichan: Her internet got confused somehow and she can't get online at the moment and she called me about it for some reason so I assume she wants me PSAing it.

So yeah.

...

Also have That Guy (with the glasses) riffing on fifties PSAs. Remember, kids! Always conform, wash your hands, and gays are horrible monstrous people who will make you go to jail.
seiberwing: (Abe Sapien)
On Friday I finally dragged myself out of slothfulness and went to the gdgt tech show downtown at the Tribune Tower. It was pretty awesome, as I'm a sucker for neat little gadgets even if I don't completely know how to make them or would not have any personal use for them.

Cut for pictures )

And then I walked the mile back from the restaurant to the Clark/Lake station and you don't get any pictures of it because my feeble little camera cannot capture the glory of downtown Chicago after dark. While mildly buzzed, at that. It's too gorgeous for words.

Rambling.

Sep. 10th, 2011 09:19 pm
seiberwing: (Ham and Cheese)
Posting, because the headache is back (they're near constant these days, and they interfere with my vision too, so thank god for touch type--don't worry, doctors are being seen) and I'm supposed to be writing something for [livejournal.com profile] womenlovefest but my head is muddled so here I am rambling about sentai and being bored.

Aside the lack of money and other benefits, being unemployed is dull. I feel like I should get a hobby or something but it's hard to motivate myself out of bed in the morning. At least A2 and I are getting on quite well (got her into Sherlock, she ships Sherlock/Moriarty without any prompting at all), but she's going out of town for a week on Sunday so it's just going to be me and The Squid (pictured here being on a jet). I know a few people in the area but they've all got actual jobs so we don't talk much.

I suppose I have the rest of the Kamen Rider W movies to finish up, I've only gotten through the series and some of the Delusion Diaries (no, seriously, whatever they were smoking when they made those I seriously want some). It is a surprisingly amazing show. When I heard 'sentai' I went in expecting Power Rangers, and what I got was some surprisingly complex and intriguing characterization in the context of fighting monsters in creatively designed suits using various named attacks and martial arts moves.

I don't remember when this got so long. But I don't remember a lot of things lately. )

Oh. Joy.

Aug. 29th, 2011 10:16 am
seiberwing: (Enemy Mine)
So in less than an hour I'm grabbing my suitcase and heading for my flight to Knoxville, with a short detour to the French bakery. The final decision was that my parents are going to drive up to New York and stay at my grandma's apartment until the roads clear, and then snatch her from the clutch of the Catskills and smuggle her home. Meanwhile, I'm going to be staying with David in Tennessee. This is both simpler and cheaper than getting caregivers for an entire week on a moment's notice and it's the least I can do, but it doesn't make it any less irksome. Also I just hate airports, they stress me out.

So I canceled all my appointments (including the doctor's visit I've been desperately needing, a few hours' more pay from my last freelance job, and picking up that gorgeous chest of drawers for my room) and I'll be down there until Sunday. I wish I could just throw a massive house party but aside my auntie I don't know anyone of note (who stays there during the summer months, I believe at least one temp K-town person on my flist goes to school there but lives elsewhere when school's out) who I'd care to have visit. Open invitation if you do!

Otherwise, I'm looking on the bright side. The lake's there and I've been wanting to swim this summer. It'll be relaxing. And while my face hurts like hell and a half I can at least duck to the CVS clinic and try to get some antibiotics or whatever they do for a sinus infection.

Also our cat is breaking my heart. He keeps coming in to meow at me. I think he knows I'm leaving and wants to come along.
seiberwing: (Ham and Cheese)
My grandmother (old, mobility/hearing issues, mild memory problems, and also an all around personality disordered hard to deal with jerkface) was in Fleischman's in the Catskills, where there was a lot of flooding. Her motel is "gone", as she put it (EDIT: no seriously this thing is floating down main street it is not even attached to the ground anymore), and she was evacuated to somewhere arts and cultural. As of my mom's last text "Gran evac'd to music conservatory nr ski resort so much higher ground. She is laying down talking to a friend, okay for now". However, the roads are flooded so we have no idea when or how she's going to get out.

My parents' current plan to throw my autistic brother in the trunkbackseat and drive up there (15 hours from Knoxville, TN) as soon as the roads are clear, since renting a car after flying into LaGuardia is going to be next to impossible. I'm on standby to catch a plane to LGA, if needed, and take care of my brother at her apartment while my parents take care of Grandma. We're not worried about her safety, more the mechanics of getting her back to her apartment in Queens. If she'd just stayed in the city this summer like we all told her to this would not have happened.

If anyone has any ideas, resources, cars, or psychic powers that might help us out, it would be deeply appreciated.
seiberwing: (Safeword)
We were visited by a banshee today.

I was awoken from a very pleasant nap by a voice howling "OHHHHH NO" somewhere outside my building. These were the only words I could make out and frankly I'm not even sure about those. After it kept going on I hauled myself out of bed and went to the dining room to find my roommate A2 peering out the window. We couldn't see the source of the noise until I pulled the screen up and stuck my head out the window.

There was an...entity sitting on our front stoop. He had pale legs and white shorts, and was wearing a blue hoodie. From the angle of three floors up we couldn't see anything of his face or head, so we couldn't even determine if our visitor was a young teenager or a skinny adult. One hand was waving around and he was screaming unintelligably. I caught something about rain (it had been storming most of the day and was only just starting to clear up) and possibly something about his mom, but between the ranting and the sound of cars passing we couldn't make out a single clear sentence.

After observing for a while we realize he's talking to a cell phone. But then he hangs up, is quieter for a moment, and starts ranting at the phone. At this point I finally decide I'm going to go downstairs and find out what the heck is up with this guy. A2 follows me down, half for curiosity and half for potential backup. The moment we hit the first floor landing we seem him get up and leave. A2 is momentarily reduced to Angrish, feeling somehow robbed. The last we see of the blue-hooded entity was him walking across the street, still ranting unintelligibly. We never did see his face. or find out what the fuck was up with that.

But if anyone in the building dies in the next few days, he can't say he didn't warn us.
seiberwing: (Fierce hat is fierce)
I think I kind of hate everyone involved in this post. And the linked post. Maybe not [livejournal.com profile] korinna, she's kind of cool, but the fact that she's even in this mess is annoying to me.

Does it really fucking matter that we play this grand game of semantics? I hate the wanks that try to form some hierarchy of oppression and make people declare their 'cred' before they're allowed to say anything. Does it matter whether asexuals are systematically oppressed on the basis of asexuality or if their erasure and social strife are caused by misogyny and homophobia? It's still people being dicks to other groups of people and the dicks should stop being dicks and we should work to make the world less dickish to asexuals. Hell knows I've had my string of social troubles and psychological anguish over the fact that a mere squishy kiss downright disgusts me (with a certain specific exception, and only under very specific circumstances) and sex is and never will be an option. If I could get rid of this personal deficiency I'd do it in a heartbeat and my social life might be highly improved for it. But this mess is really not helping.

I love armchair activism as much as the next recreation of an xkcd comic, but hell's balls this is just ridiculous. What are we accomplishing here? Feeling good about ourselves for being right on the internet in thread upon thread upon jesus fucking christ on a cracker not this shit again.

I don't even care who's right here. I just want all of them to shut up.

EDIT: Also, is there some massive filing cabinet somewhere that chronicles every single potentially problematic thing that every single sf_drama member has said? Because with the amount of times I see someone post and then five other people come by and say "Hey, remember that time you said that one thing? You suck!" within minutes, it really makes me wonder.
seiberwing: (Ham and Cheese)
Title: Next Ship to New Kaon
Fandom: Transformers: Animated
Characters: Blackarachnia, other Decepticons canon and OC
Warnings: Sexual references, comedic use of sombreros.
Summary: Blackarachnia formally joins the Decepticons. You don’t have to be a freak to be in this army, but it helps.
Author’s Note: The idea for this fic mostly came from long conversations around the breakfast table with [livejournal.com profile] koilungfish and was encouraged by said fish poking me to finish it at every available opportunity. And then I completely ignored it for two years until I found it lying around my hard drive and decided to clean it up and give it a second chance, having forgotten most of the original ideas and just how many references to prostitutes I’d had in here.

And this time I had the Allspark Almanac as a desk reference. )
seiberwing: (Ham and Cheese)
My old mountain bike has been sitting in the closet of my old apartment for nearly a year, untouched because I had no intention of taking the heavy thing up and down the narrow stairs to ride to the few places in Hyde Park that are worth visiting but too far to go to on foot or by bus. On Monday I finally had to take it out of storage and transport it uptown to Logan Square via wheels, trains, and pure will (which is a story for another day, and boy is it a story). However, the tires were both flat. I had a pump but I couldn't figure out how to get the pump onto the little wheel nozzle things. I've got an appointment in half an hour so I figure I'll just squish my way up to the other end of the street, go to my appointment, and figure it out later.

A quarter of the way there I'm stopped by an older man, also on a bicycle. He notes that I've got two flats and I mention that I've got a pump, I just can't figure out how to use it. He stops and helps me figure out what's going on with the nozzles (somehow they retracted into the wheel-holder (?) and he had to deflate the wheel to pull them out again), and then pumped the bike up again. He said he had a bike repair service nearby, and all he asked for in compensation was that I maybe buy him a pack of cigarettes. I gave him some money and told him I'd put up his business on my blog, to spread the information around.

Only now the odd thing is that I can't find him. He had me write down his information and said he has a Facebook but it's not there. The name is Uncle Donnie's Bike Repair, and the number is 1-773-288-3002. And for the life of me, Google, and Facebook I can't find him again. It's like one of those things where some Good Samaritan pops out of nowhere to aid you in your time of trouble, goes on his way, and then later you find he was a ghost or an angel or some bullshit like that.

I'm tempted to call the number just to see what happens.
seiberwing: (Notice Me)
I'm home after the heat wave, though I'm almost sad it's gone. I've got an incredible case of cabin fever since I've really got nothing to do now but pack up my life into boxes again. My thesis isn't even a distraction, since I just turned in the final draft (fuck yeah).

I've finally scored a room. It's pretty close to a train stop and my new roommate A2 seems pretty cool. She's got a cat of her own, is catfriendly, and the house has potted plants in it. The three floor walkup thing will be a bit annoying, I'm sure, but my current place has the same thing with far narrower stairs and a grumpy landlady on the second floor. Also she says she's a bit of a homebody when she's not at work, which means I maybe won't be so lonely all the damned time. K2's not a bad roommate but now that school's over she's basically using the apartment as a very expensive storage room.

I'm going to pick up the keys Thursday or Friday afternoon (which means I'll be up in Logan Square if anyone wants to hang out!), and I guess we'll figure out the lease stuff then too. It's a nice place in a nice location. The room's a touch smaller than what I've got now, but I like small rooms. They feel cozy.

The only thing I'm going to miss is the back porch. K2 used to smoke out there and it was one of the few chances I had to get in a good conversation with her before she retreated back to her room or left the house for half a week. I've been spending a lot of time out there, especially at night, because it's cooler and open to the breeze. Just me, my laptop, the night breeze, and people occasionally setting off fireworks for no good reason or having drama in the alleyways.

I'd give it up in a second for what I'll gain by getting the fuck out of Hyde Park, and once it turns cooler there's no point to it. But that one little thing is very nice.
seiberwing: (Bad Idea)
I really, really need to move. I should not be getting heat stroke in my own house.

Okay, I exaggerate, heat exhaustion's probably a more accurate diagnosis, but still. I couldn't sleep at all on Monday night due to the severe heat and when I got up to my mom's hotel I was flushed, I had a headache, my eyes (still) hurt when I rotate them, and I was running a mild fever. Heat exhaustion, at night, in my own house.

I need to get a place that won't kill me if I live in it. Right now I'm combing the Craigslist rooms & shares section for a good Logan Square place, I want a roommate anyway and this makes the price manageable, but that still leaves me in a lot of trouble if the temperature goes up again before the 29th.
seiberwing: (Carter's Mind)
A short summary of my day out with [livejournal.com profile] stupid_drawings:

Me: ^_^ *bus to El, waiting on platform*
S_D: *texts* *lol btw it's [station], not [identically named station at the other end of the line which was the first thing listed on Google Maps when you searched for that stop]*
Me: *wtf Chicago* *goes around to other side of the platform*
Train: *takes forever* *finally makes it to [station]*
Station: *has festival happening near it*
Busker 1: Selling tickets!
Busker 2: Buying any spare tickets!
Me: They should talk to each other.
S_D: It's like the bad parts of going to a concert without actually going to a concert.

Us: *navigates to Salvation Army as listed on Google Maps* ^_^ ...??
SA-1: *is community center*
S_D: *breaks out Google Maps on phone, navigates further*
SA-2: *is housing*
Us: *getting a little tired of Google Maps screwing up* *hunts for El station, so as to go to other line to other Salvation Army*
Me: Hey, there's a train! *walkwalkwalk* ...and no station.
Us: *follow tracks* *eventually get to completely different station than the one we started at, but at least it was the right line* *board train* *do some sitting*

Station: *lets out onto what has to be the worst intersection in the city, at the crossing of three diagonal, badly labeled roads*
Us: *cross street* ... *have to go right back across street again* *follow giant painted sign saying THRIFT STORE*
SA-3: *finally, FINALLY is an actual thrift store* *with no A/C and rude clerks, but a thrift store*
Us: *shop, then to just elitist enough cafe for delicious lunch and coffee*
S_D: *cues more plotbunnies*
Me: *gdi*

So it took us about an hour and a half to actually achieve anything useful, but I now have a nice waistcoat. It's better than staying indoors all day.
seiberwing: (Enemy Mine)
Title: Who You Are In The Dark (Part 2)
Fandom: Hogan’s Heroes
Characters: Wilhelm Klink, assorted Heroes.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, mostly.
Summary: In the aftermath of a horrible accident, Klink is forced to confront what kind of man he really is.
Author’s Note: In which I employ a rather common trope in Klinkfic but hopefully pull it off properly. Part 1 can be found here.

Still not sure what this says about me. )

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