bibliothekara: (Default)

*looks self up and down*

I seem to have survived the move to Piscataway relatively intact. All cords hooked up, all suitcases unpacked, and my god, there's even some  decent adult food in the refrigerator. I even have a decent supermarket in relative proximity. Faith and begorrah, I might be able to do this.

Of course, as always it comes with restrictions/corollarys, etc et al. A whole bunch of stuff is still at my mother's house, and may remain so for the forseeable future. I need to get shelving so the books and DVDs can emerge from their packing. I'm cat-sitting this week, and  amtaking that opportunity to move more stuff via suitcase. There are still strong tentacular thingees tying me to 30 miles south.

As there should be; and I realize this, because one of the strongest emotions I'm feeling right now is loneliness. Theoretical Roomie has not appeared yet, and there's no cats tearing about the place madly, or people yelling up the stairs for me. And that's kind of unnerving. It'll subside in a week or two, when I have classes or hopefully a job. Then, I will see this room as sanctuary, probably. But right now it's big and empty and echo-y.

Thank dog for the Internet. Time to spend the week writing fic.
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Finally saw THE APARTMENT on Monday, when I went to pick up the keys from the Housing Office and get my student ID. And I have to say, it's really kind of fantastic. The dining room and the living room are one, but they are furnished (!) I will need to go purchase some Sofa Parasites (tm Steven Moffatt) though. Then there is the unholy abomination that I have termed the Hallchen, because Kitchway doesn't have the cadence. Basically it is a corridor with the bedrooms on one side, refrigerator/cabinets/electric range (!!) on the other, and bathroom at the end. 

Don't know which bedroom I'll get, because a) haven't heard back from Theoretical Roomie, so b) she may be there when I arrive. I have termed them Thingummy and Bob, and am now leaning toward claiming Bob, if I have my choice.

It's less than 48 hours until  Saturday morning and the main portion of move-out. Involving driving and cars. And (Ex)Coworker M coming in contact with my mother. Which could go fantastically, or could go like matter meeting anti-matter. Who knows. Most things are packed. Tomorrow,  since the FG is heading up to campus for band camp anyway, I'm accompanying them with a YOOGE suitcase full of clothes.

I also have a bead on a part-time assistant job which sounds rather fun, so *fingers crossed*; and I've discovered or rediscovered "White Collar", and am having a Tim DeKay renaissance. I swear to god I'm not fandom-cheating on Hotch, though.

And there are many, many other family things going on at the exact same time, so basically, it's our annual/bi-yearly tornado of STUFF. Of which my shit is really the least important; and for the first time in a year or so, I feel like I may be on top of it. (Check back in two weeks after classes start. There May Be Flail.)
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[E Has Left The Project Team]
[E is a student again]
[End of line] (?)

So. That happened. Two of the most emotional days in my relatively short experience, and that was only the end of one thing. With the beginning of something else still to come. To retreat to my half an English degree, I'm feeling very liminal right now.

My office ( my office that was) likes any excuse to throw a party, I think, and my departure was it. But it was more than that, I think. We were 6 people, out on a separate campus from the rest of the university, connected by phone and email, but isolated just the same. Shoved together, we somehow clicked beautifully. Not elegant; busting chops, as in any New Jersey office, was our lingua franca. As my TV-tropes-obsessed brain might put it, we were a nakama, a team, for nearly three years. They were my first experience of gainful employment, and as I told them truthfully, I could not have had any better team-mates.

Because, I'll confide something to you, dear readers: I have an evil brain some times. It'll yell "screw-up" and "weirdo" at me constantly at high volume, telling me "People don't really like you. They just put up with you." And then, I have friends, and family, and friends that are family, who say "E's brain, you shut up now please."

My work computer's desktop, for the past year, has been a map of the Discworld. I had the  Three Rules for The Librarians of Time and Space on my wall. I would occasionally babble about it if asked. And a month ago, Coworker M, out of the blue, asked me, "Who's a better character, the Librarian or Ridcully?" I answered to the best of my abilities.

Fastforward to Thursday, and me holding in my hands an Unseen University soccer jersey, with "Librarian" on the back.

*dissolves into squishy emotional jelly*

And now it's over, and I'm not going to wake up Monday and putter into our tiny public-pool-locker-room looking office, say "good morning" or snark about something. I'll see them, I'll keep in contact, but something fundamental has changed.

I'm staring forward at something completely new in my life, in myriad different ways, and  I don't know at all how it's going to work out. *see entry title* Maybe thinking of it as a quest, with an end, will help. Only the orcs are more subtle, and there's no magic ring, just a piece of paper saying "Master's Degree".

Well, at least New Brunswick is not where the shadows lie, as far as I'm aware.

I hereby step my foot onto the road. Which, as they say, does tend to go ever on and on.
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so, I am way behind in this personal news stuff, but, yeah, I'm going to Rutgers grad school in 4 months. (Holy crap, this is actually happening.)

*faffs about in happy and frantic joy*

Plus, my ability to do paperwork has gotten me into graduate housing, putting off actual scary adulthood for a year or so.

And so I have a moveout date, translating into an end-date with this weird litle Austenesque experiment.

(The Maternal Unit is not Mrs. Bennett. The Maternal Unit is more often Mr. Bennett, which as y'all know, is infinitely more terrifying.)

Although, The Fraternal Guy and I will be at the same university, and maybe in the same city, which is a little bit comforting. We have theoretical plans to see DKM. And I have promised to eventually write, for him, fic based on the comic book hero he came up with 2 years ago. Who is pretty awesome, but infinitey complicated.

So, aieeeeeeeee.
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Just in time for Easter.

It was two and a half weeks late, but I got into the Rutgers MLIS program on Thursday.


(Sans other two decisions, I'm not entirely decided where yet...probably gonna be Rutgers...but somewhere. SOMEWHERE.)

I am going to spend this weekend...well, watching more Farscape, which has been my obsession for the past two weeks. And possibly doing very girly things like shoe and clothes shopping or getting my hair done.

But most importantly, it will not be spent obsessing over my future. 'Cause I CAN HAZ GRAD SCHOOL. BITCHES.
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So, I was supposed to get one of the Grad-school decisions (or e-access to one ) on Monday. It is now Friday. And no decision. BUGGER. I called up the relevant office, where nobody is answering the phone, and the voice mail box is full.
It is such a pain in the ass when you have to rely on other people to be competent. GOD. :)

So, I spent the week  trying not to go completely twirly. I may try a "fic-finishing" day tomorrow, under the ebil influence of [ profile] amichevole . Or possibly go shoe-shopping and getting-hair-done-ing. I am capricious like that.

So for now, I'm stealing this meme from [ profile] bluerosefairy :

-Choose a random quote from each one of your favorite ships.
- Your friends now must guess the ship that each quote refers to. NO GOOGLING. Cheat if it's REALLY that important to you.
- Edit to add the answer when someone gets it right

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error, and upon me prov'd, I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.- William Shakespeare )



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So, I'm sitting here on a Wednesday night with no CM episode to ramble on about. Got a few fic ideas, can't figure out which to start.Staring at the third Snowpocalypse in three weeks. And, no grad school acceptances yet, while the job gets ever more drama-filled. Hoping that one of the results of the snowstorm is not the cancellation of Flogging Molly at the Electric Factory. An early birthday present from me, to me. Because yeah, turning the big quarter century next week. (Aiee.) So, not a lot has changed, and my life is filled mostly with drama dire mostly only to me. ;-p But, I have new Pratchett to read, including Night Watch. (Yaay).

So, good time for une Meme, methinks, yes? Yes.
here be dragons )
And, finally- my sophomore honors history teacher is going to go to jail for attempted arson and threats w/ an ax. (Apparently there were prescription drug interactions involved, and it's all very sad and sordid.) I remember him as a nice, funny, slightly intense guy, who managed through a whole year of a class filled with   snarky little G&T bastards like me. (For which respect must be paid.) It makes me sad, and confused. And I really hope he gets some help, and that his life goes upwards from here.
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So, wonder of wonders, the University actually closed down to non-critical employees during yesterday's blizzard. (You laugh, but the Uni nearly never closes for snow. It is a running joke worthy of Pratchett.) This is this biggest snow event I can remember since the '96 blizzard. Which I found much cooler mostly because I was 11 and could play in it. I did mostly nothing yesterday, except watch through the Whedonverse with the Fraternal Guy. (We're on Angel Season Four right now, and it is highly enjoyable.)

Today, they are trying to dig out from under, and opened about 20 minutes ago. But since I have the time stored up, and the shoveling needed to get done, I called out. So TFG and I just finished the shoveling, and are preparing to put the kettle on while watching more Angel. Snowpocalypse, Now-ish. I may attempt a batch of cranberry sauce later. Plus, it is one of my nights to cook, AKA Ravioli and Salad Night. Nom.

So, very good time for MEME! (blame [ profile] katewallace . Again. She is my enabler. :)


Snow, Star Trek, Hotch, grad school, "Vita" )
bibliothekara: (Default)
So, after three weeks, the sinus infection seems to be retreating to its pre-floodwater boundaries. Evidentiary support: I could actually smell at least 50% of the massive amount of garlic I put in last night's Big Sauce. Just in time for the scheduled-three-months-ago doctor's appointment on Monday. Nice one, immune system. Also: I am so shameless. I was going to take that day completely *off*. But then the Library scheduled the Yearly Holiday Luncheon With Awesome Gourmet Food on that same day, at noon. So I am totally just coming in to work at noon, going to the luncheon, and then working a perfunctory couple of hours afterwards. Hey, there need to be some perks for working in academe.

Family Christmas is shaping up rather nicely. Translation: the two halves of my extended family are communicating and planning with minimal need for my diplomatic involvement. And there will now be a grand communal trip to the Christmas Revels on Boxing Day. Very sweet. Although I'm going to be incredibly homesick on the walk through Harvard Square to Sanders Theater. *cue Avenue Q's "I Wish I Could Go Back To College* But I don't miss college so much as I miss Boston. Thus, the Evil Grad School Plan.

Last new CM of the year tonight! Expect much squeeing and the usual write-up.

I am vaguely considering getting blonde highlights this weekend. Or possibly just my usual metal-magenta color. Y/N? Provide rationales.

Finally, because it is the source of my new McPrentiss fic-obsession, and damn it, I *do* deserve some shiny:
Comment to this post with an offer to write in any fandom that you or I have in common. I will answer with a prompt. Then, you will write me comment-fic, snippets, or whatever comes to mind. Now go post this in your own journal and demand fic of your very own! Make your flist work! You had a long week and you DESERVE it, dammit!

UPDATE: If I'm going to post this meme, I should probably include my shows, shouldn't I? bad E. No cookie.

-How I Met Your Mother
-Criminal Minds
-White Collar
-Star Trek (any series)
-Doctor Who
-The West Wing
bibliothekara: (Default)
St. George then looking round about,
The fiery dragon soon espy'd,
And like a knight of courage stout,
Against him did most furiously ride;
And with such blows he did him greet,
He fell beneath his horse's feet.

For with his launce that was so strong,
As he came gaping in his face,
In at his mouth he thrust along;
For he could pierce no other place:
And thus within the lady's view
This mighty dragon straight he slew.

-Anonymous, Old English

Okay, yes, a slight exaggeration.

All three applications are in and paid for, with their fiendishly peculiar personal statements. The GRE reports are ordered. The transcripts are ordered and waiting for a consent form to wing their way down from Garden Street. All's done except  a few bits of extraneous paperwork, and the recommendations, and the recommenders are three people who I trust intensely not to let me down. (I have good family, friends and colleagues, whom I don't praise nearly enough. So, I praise them. And praise them again.)

(Funny dangling modifier that I fortunately noticed before I sent in the essay: "Those books, magazines, and ephemeral audio-visual media that might have been lost to future researchers when they physically disintegrated will now be available for years to come." Yeah, needed to rearrange that one a bit, given all the physically disintegrating academics I've met in my life.)

Now I can stop freaking out about it all, wait for what happens to happen. And kill time by obsessing over the hundreth episode of CM and writing all the fic-bunnies that are pestering me.

ROWR. I HAVE SLAIN THE DRAGON. FEAR ME. Bring me the finest muffins and bagels in all the land.

bibliothekara: (Default)
I, 'thekara, promise to stop being the Bitch-Goddess from hell about this whole grad-school thing.

(Or at least  try.)

Maybe going out to buy pumpkins will help. My costume this year (for purposes of answering our door wit' candy: The Woman in Black. Complete with Eye-Patch and Cowboy Hat. UPDATE: Sunglasses worked infinitely better, plus the old string duster I forgot I owned.

And my copies of  [ profile] matociquala 's  By The Mountain Bound (new book!) and New Amsterdam (new to me!) arrived this morning. Score.

I just really wish there was some way to go into a Jedi-trance and have this paperwork shit be over and done with.
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Okay, in my usual neurotic and frantic fashion, I have gotten stuff done. GO ME.

Went to the dentist today. And that was its own kind of stressful, because I've been going to see the man since I was 4. So if anything goes wrong with my teeth, I feel like I have personally disappointed him. But yaay, clean bill of dental health.

Then, quest to Trenton to get the bus pass of the month. (After losing the last one a week before the end of the month, and surviving using rolls of quarters. EPIC PUBLIC TRANSIT FAIL.)

Then, this afternoon. Which despite it being filled with typing and filling in forms, which I DO FOR A LIVING, was stressful. Because it is really not in my nature, in a lot of ways, to put myself out there. To be "Here is exactly why I am awesome, and you should totally let me into your Master of Library and Information Science Program." But, finished one, half of another (turns out I cannot plug  essay for First School into the essay topic for second school. DAMN IT.) So 1 and a half down, and half and one to go. Plus ordering various scores and transcripts and whatchamawhosits  from 50-eleven places.

(And The Empress tried to help. But her helping, as a cat, is somewhat less than optimal.
The Empress: *jumps up next to computer* PET ME.
Me: Go away, I'm doing stuff.
The Empress: * jumps on back of office chair* I went away, I came back. PET ME.
Me: *frantic call to the Maternal Unit for date we moved to Jersey*
The Empress: *does unspeakable nuzzly things to the phone*
Ah. Cats.)

But I've started it. A hit, a palpable hit. So I am calling it a day, pouring myself a scotch in a bit, and waiting for our scintillating Friday night plans. (Which basically are, pizza, Daniel Craig blowing up shit, and Matt Bomer/Tim DeKay being cute and competent.) (I Am Totally Hooked on White Collar after one episode, everybody.) Oh the exciting life I lead.
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I'm having multiple homesickness pangs tonight.

Except I'm having them for about three different places.

I listen to music, I feel one thing. I watch baseball, another. And then, looking outside my window, or talking to a friend way off in China, there's a whole 'nother thing going on.

This is  a problem.
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Okay, I'm trying to venture out onto the moor, even though I'm mentally shaking. I know that the dragon is only in my head. He's only in my head.

And yes, I'm a drama queen. Background, because I haven't been much for the personal posts on this here LJ, but I must vent: I've been living at home for the last two years, but I have a Plan. The Plan, is that once I've saved up enough, I move out, to (what looks right now to be) Philly, New Brunswick, or Boston. Go get my MLIS, and move out on my own. Which I need to do, really truly, love my family though I do, because complacency is bad, y'all.  I've saved up enough right now, through the grace of my wonderful mother, that I think Sept. 2010 is the target date. Which means Feb.1 is zero hour. So I really need to start doing this thing.

I  bit the bullet, I have all the information in front of me, printed out. I have a folder. I HAZ A FOLDER. (Folders are important.) I have the GRE score. All  of the College's Registrar shit is online now. I  have two wonderful bosses at The Project who've said they'll write  rec letters fore me. This can happen, it will happen.

So why am I so fucking terrified?

Because I am, also, sadly, a sincere and incredibly neurotic pussy who fears change. I spin in my head, for everything in my life, ways it can go wrong, ways I can fuck it up.

Must repeat to self: I can do this. I *can* do this. This is not a bad thing.

fuck, shite and buggerall.


bibliothekara: (Default)

January 2012

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