Issue 5 of COILHOUSE, the smoothly wicked paper-child of Nadya, Zoetica, and darling Mer, has just gone live!
Take a tour of Issue 5, then
CLICK HERE TO BUY
n: vb: the spice of imagination
Issue 5 of COILHOUSE, the smoothly wicked paper-child of Nadya, Zoetica, and darling Mer, has just gone live!
Take a tour of Issue 5, then
CLICK HERE TO BUY
My GED testing dates are coming up, July 9/10. I am, in a word, anxious. I’ve been dutifully reading the numbers manual Becca loaned me, learning more about fractions and polynomials than ever before, but I still can’t shake the feeling that I’m going to bomb the math test. I’ve taken example tests for all the subjects and it’s the only topic I’m not getting 90% on.
Tomorrow is the last day of my digital-print sale!
$10 for a print-quality digital file from this folder.
$20 to commission a new print-quality digital photograph/file.
I had an interview this afternoon for a job I’m sincerely hoping to land, an ace position with a respectable creative sector company, that requires such a perfect fit for my skills that it’s almost a little silly. Plus, bonus, it comes with room for independant thought. (The number of executive assistant jobs that have replied to me lately that should have advertised for a receptionist instead has really been getting me down. Note to potential employers: Personal assistants and executive assistants are two different things.) My only concern, as I know I’m well qualified and have no worries there, is that it’s been so long since I’ve done an interview that I might have come across as either incredibly dull or even a bit repetitive. I found myself agreeing with so much the interviewer had to say, after all, that I must have spent an entire ten minutes nodding my head and replying, “Right.” How.. pedestrian. How incredibly, incredibly bland. On the other hand, I did walk in with an asymetrical purple fedora decked out in six kinds of feathers, so there’s hope.
I kid. Well, not about the hat, that really is my hat. But about my concerns. In my heart of hearts, my anxieties don’t stem from such superficial worries, but the very real chance that one of the other applicants will get the gig. This terrifies me. Not because being underemployed well and truly sucks, but because the position I interviewed for today is the first job to come along in a long time that I truly want. Not only would I be good at it, I would enjoy being good at it, I would thrive, and that’s precious in a day job. I hate having to constantly choose between doing something I appreciate for flaky employers who “forget” to pay me or steady yet tedious work that painfully reminds me that every minute on the job is a minute I will never get back. It grinds me down. If I’m fierce about anything, it’s that I want to add to the joy of the world, not the grime, and this looks like a chance to do that and get paid for it! Be still my beating heart! And yet, I am flawed and I doubt. What if I don’t get it? What if another person is better? Thankfully, they’ll be making a decision by Tuesday at the latest, so I don’t have long to wait.
The Subway Time from Dongzhen.Li.
Dear Vapid Stoner Girl Talking on Her Cellphone Right Outside my Window,
You are making me fear for the survival of multiple syllable words. “Like” is a not a comma, “pot” doesn’t have a built-in exclamation point, and ending every sentence with a question mark does not make it sarcastic or more clever.
Sincerely,
The Girl Old Lady Upstairs Trying Not To Laugh
PS. Please, think of the children when you dress in the morning. They will discover puberty on their own. I promise. That is not a skirt, that is a belt.
You know the drill. Stream Zoe Keating’s glorious new album through this widget or do the slightly more clever thing and click through to download the whole thing for $8 or more, depending on how much it’s worth to you that she keeps making music. For example, I’ve been waiting for this album to come out for what feels like half of forever, but I am poor, so I can only give $10 instead of the $25 I’d rather.
"Like a Dude", a commissioned photo for Brenno Van Sise. Purchase your own from my etsy shop, A Thread of Grace.
Taxes: T4’s arrived, but I mis-answered in the tax booklet. Again. Need replacement paperwork.
Employment: Spoke with Social Services this morning. Have a second interview with a video game company on Friday afternoon. Have more transcription work. Topic, Twitter.
School: Finally finished the arithmetic section of my maths book. Will test myself in three days. Next up, algebra. Tests are soon.
Driving: Need to hash out when I’m available for Young Drivers of Canada classes.
Photography: Updated and polished the Etsy store. One commission shot today. One shoot booked for later this week.
Cleaning: Almost all of my things are back in my room. Only boxes of miscellany remain.
Repairs: One of the cats pulled down our coat rack. The microwave suddenly does not turn on. The antique chest of drawers is missing a handle.
Other than all that, life consists mostly of tidying the apartment, doing laundry, folding things, investigating what might be left to try and sell on Craigslist, sending off endless, repetitive cover letters and resume, and wishing I had slightly more to eat. To shake things up a little, I went to visit Jenn and Steve today, who were darling, and stayed until almost far too late. As a bonus, I finally got a tour of the townhouse that they bought (which was also darling). Spurred on by this feat, I have once again reinstated my desire to see people again. I’ve been significantly more active lately than I have been over the last few months, as if I’m climbing, fumbling, out of winter, drained by gray and tired, into the bright social buzz of spring and summer, but I fear it’s not enough. As a gentle nudge back into the light, tomorrow’s plans are similar, mixing as they do the regular flat responsibilities of life, returning bottles, taking out the recycling, with sweet, social escape in the form of a tasty lunch with Sara. Her wedding is coming up, too. Seems to be the year for it, though I have physical evidence that I cringed away from Lisa’s bouquet.