hibiscustea: (bookish)

You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years, and ruined and wasted."

New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life here
in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world.

The City - Constantine P. Cavafy (1910)

Found via Mental Floss: works by Alex Andreev, a Russian painter who's focus is on whimsical and desolate futurescapes.
hibiscustea: (Default)
TWO DOWN ONE TO GO. By the time this semester is over I will have written more than 23600 words for school. I am sleeping all day Thursday and there is no way in hell I am getting out of bed.

NYU Student Conducts Most Adorable Robot Experiment Ever

Tisch School of the Arts student Kacie Kinzer created the tweenbot as a kind of art experiment. In her words:
I wondered: could a human-like object traverse sidewalks and streets along with us, and in so doing, create a narrative about our relationship to space and our willingness to interact with what we find in it? More importantly, how could our actions be seen within a larger context of human connection that emerges from the complexity of the city itself? To answer these questions, I built robots.
hibiscustea: (pause.)
Okay, so, this will certainly be old-hat to some on my flist, but I thought that all exposure on this particular subject was good exposure.

In short, Amazon.com has been stripping GLBT books of their ranking by labeling them as adult, which effectively removes them from site searches. [livejournal.com profile] rydra_wong has a post summing up the situation. [livejournal.com profile] markprobst has more details. [livejournal.com profile] asknosecrets has a put up a Roundup Post.

I think this deserves an OH JOHN RINGO NO.
hibiscustea: (Default)


Feb. 23rd, 2009 03:49 pm
hibiscustea: (pause.)
Well, my universe has resumed its shambling march towards some bizarre definition of 'complete'. University has resumed classes, after a week of not-class. I miss not-classes. Not classes were fun to attend. I didn't need to take notes, pay attention or understand the material. It was nice.

Oh well, boo hoo, ho hum; so sad too bad. I will get over it.

This semester is lackluster. Nothing in particular grips me with anything even coming close to fascination. Well, that's not entirely true: German, despite my lack of grammatical correctness and the strange floating verbs the language seems to suffer from in general, is actually quite interesting. There are some incredible words that have no English equivalent. I still don't think (or will ever believe) that I have a head for languages, however, maybe if I just keep bludgeoning myself with the material I'll make it through all right.

I'm tired, though. While reading break was a boon, it wasn't long enough by far. I have the irritating feeling that time is slipping through my grasp at an increasingly faster and faster rate. There's so much to do and so little time in which to do it.

I was talking to [livejournal.com profile] mad_and_crazy the other day about time. We agreed that it seems to go by faster the older we get. My theory is, as a child, we tend to think of time not in terms of clocks or even calenders beyond a sort of vague recognition that these exist, instead clocking our time in terms of events. Birthdays, holidays, vacations, and such. Because these measure duration in large chunks, time seems suspended, almost fixed. I can remember being ten and thinking that my birthday would never come. Last year, I could barely remember the time between that year's birthday and last years (which, of course, is hyperbole, but the point is--so fast!).

As we grow up, emphasis is placed on time. Being on time; in time; in a timely manner. We begin to savor having extra time, spare time, but this is an illusion perpetrated by our devious clocks. There is no time. Just whirling wheels and pins, set to a fixed rhythm. Arbitrary. Impossible.

Let's break all the clocks in the world and see what happens, yes?
hibiscustea: (Default)
I am a terrible journal-er. I need to be more active; not just in journaling, but also in life in general. While late, one of my New Years resolutions this year is to be more out going, more active (who knows, maybe even develop a bit of a social circle?)
hibiscustea: (Default)
Oh, hell, why not?

The first five (5) people to respond to this post will get something made by me.

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

- I make no guarantees that you will like what I make.
- What I create will be just for you.
- It'll be done this year (2009).
- You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a mixed CD. It may be a poem. I may draw or paint something. I might bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure! [not me either]
- I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

All you need to do is post this text into a note of your own and make 5 things for 5 others.
hibiscustea: (refresh-mint)
Okay, so, this? Really bloody cool.
hibiscustea: (Default)
Michel Rivard - Culture en PĂ©ril (extended version)

hibiscustea: (leaning)
I've gotten into a terrible, terrible habit. I never thought I'd do it again. I mean, I flirted with it in high school--I suppose most people do. And I was always careful; I made sure it didn't interfere with my school work, and I made sure that I only did it recreationally.

But now, for the past week or more, I've been sliding, my habit spiraling out of my control. At first, I told myself that it was just the stress of summer classes shining through. I told myself it was fine and I could handle it. Now it's every night. I have a problem.

I am addicted to staying up late.

I will stay up until 3 AM, 4 AM--5 AM even. Then, I'll sleep in until 3 and 4 (or later!) in the afternoon, and repeat this deadly cycle again! This must end!

I'm getting bags under my eyes, after all.
hibiscustea: (Default)
Salvidor Dali was not only a very talented artist, who painted some of the most-recognizable Surrealist paintings of all time; no, he also produced Surrealist commercials for various products.

Notably, here are his commercials for Alka Seltzer and Lanvin Chocolate.

hibiscustea: (Default)
This was my favorite animated movie from when I was tiny. It is bizarre and from the 70s.

This actually explains a great deal about me.

The Mouse and His Child (1977) by Murakami-Wolf and Sanrio, based on the Russell Hoban novel.
hibiscustea: (Default)
Stupidly, I pulled an all-nighter to get an essay out by 11am today. I made it to 7:30 am, then even more stupidly, fell asleep for two hours.

You know that taste your mouth gets, the one where it's as if you've been eating sand? Yeah, I have that. Have had it all day. Bleh.

At least it's out of the way. I only have two more essays to go now! Hopefully, my stupidity will not extend to these next ones.
hibiscustea: (Default)
My new laptop has arrived! It's tiny and shiny and BLUE!

Possibly will post pictures later.
hibiscustea: (Breakfast at Tiffany's)
As pointless as I realize it may be, I'm starting another journal called [livejournal.com profile] hibiscustea for my personal life. I will still be using this journal for various things, but I have the hopes that [livejournal.com profile] hibiscustea will be mostly for personal RL stuff.
hibiscustea: (Default)
First post in the "new" journal. Ha! New nothing.

I think the reasons I wanted to start a new journal/new username boil down to this: [livejournal.com profile] sour_water (which I will keep using, just for more fandom-related things) is something I picked out when I was 18. I don't feel that it really fits with the person I am now, and I think this will be a good change. I want to make an effort to actually keep a the journal properly, and I want to include elements of my life that are happening now, something I don't particularly feel [livejournal.com profile] sour_water would be able to accomplish for me.

I realize that this may not be (probably 100% is not) interesting to most people, and I completely understand that there did not need to be a declaration of intent with the opening of this journal, but I think I needed to verbalize just what the hell it was I was doing in the first place.

That is all.
hibiscustea: (Default)
While I realize that not everything from my childhood can remain the same (and nor should it; change is growth is evolution is GOOD), there are some things that I think, possibly, should.

The animatronic robots that graced the stages at Chuck E Cheese's are one of those things.

Granted, I only went to the damned place once, and the memory really only involves trying to kill those damned whack-a-moles, greasy pizza, and a very, very strange stage show with talking/sing electronic mice, bears and birds--still, I think I could have done without learning about the man who bought three stages-worth of animatronics and reprogrammed them to sing Fergie's 'London Bridge.'

Seeing an electronic rat in a retro cheerleading costume singing about how boys only like her for her 'london bridge'? Unneeded. Awesome. And scary. But unneeded.
hibiscustea: (Default)
I realize that I've been sort of absent from the 'net for a while. Partly because I've started to keep a paper!journal (easier to take to work with me, that), and partly because, well, I've been lazy.

I've moved, or at least settled myself semi-permanently in the city. I have a horrible job for the moment. And a dream-job starting in May. I'm very nearly registered with the Uni; I'm looking for my own apartment. I'm living with The Boy (he brings me hot chocolate!). I'm cooking.

And so, life continues.
hibiscustea: (modest mouse)
Searching for a job is heartbreaking work--it's hard. I remember, now, why I stayed so long at jobs I hated; to avoid this.

However, this is not to say that there is not a vaguely joyful sense of accomplishment after an interview, or a grim sort of pleasure in waiting for one. Then, of course, there is the period of waiting after--the several days, or week, or whatever where you wait, thinking, I did okay. I answered that question right--except, maybe, no, no--it'll be fine, except, I did say that so, maybe ... The half-hopeful trepidation is terrible, gut-churning.

It boils down to a question of confidence: am I good enough?

It is never personal (unless you really, really, really fucked-up the interview--something I've managed to avoid so far.), and it is never about you, even when it is. It is ever teeny, tiny little slight ever inflicted all rolled into one because--this is the kicker--there was some one better.

The trick, I'm told, is to not get discouraged. The trick I've discovered, though, is to have someone (with a kind smile, a warm arm, and a cup of hot somethingorother) tell you that it's okay, and they love who you are.

Thank you.
hibiscustea: (Breakfast at Tiffany's)
... Quick, does anyone know the physical dimensions of Antonio Gaudi's Casa Mila (aka La Pedrera)?


hibiscustea: (Default)

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