You know you've got a shark infestation when...

[23:06] Me: we've got sharks in our house!
[23:07] Allison: eh?
[23:07] Me: sharks! a shark infestation!
[23:07] Me: like mice, only sharks!
[23:09] Allison: whaaaat?
[23:09] Allison: okay, this I've gotta hear
[23:10] Me: i'm uploading the pics right now!
[23:10] Me: seriously, what kind of traps do you think i have to set? i didn't think you could get a shark infestation this far north.
[23:10] Allison: hahaha
[23:12] Me: we came upstairs and....
[23:12] Me: it was horrible.
[23:12] Me: this is going to be like the "the floor is lava" game until we catch them.
[23:14] Allison: hahaha
[23:17] Allison: wait, what?
[23:17] Allison: did the sharks eat the napkin?
[23:17] Me: yes! like jaws!
[23:18] Allison: haha
[23:20] Me: what do we do?
[23:22] Allison: um, put a chum bucket in the corner and wait quietly with a cattle prod?

Home Made Jambalaya

First, a picture of what happens when you let your dog outside and the grass has died.



And then Jambalaya! Home made! With chicken and shrimp and Andouille sausage!

From here to the End of the Semester

That's about how long I have to figure out what the hell I'm doing with my life, apparently.

Mom and I got in a fight sort of thing the other night about my non-specific plans for my future, which as far as I can tell I'm more frustrated over than she is, only I don't want to yell about it. I just want to figure it out, and get going on it. Only I can't seem to pick anything.

What the fight boiled down to was I need to figure out what I'm going to do after I get out of college, and make sure I have a job as soon as I get out, *or* I'm going to start taking education classes at the end of this semester.

I have no idea why she's so convinced I *have* to become a teacher. Other than the "they're always hiring teachers" line she keeps feeding me. It's like she's the only person I know who can't see what a bad idea it'd be for me to be a teacher. I'm not loud enough, for one, no one listens to me, I'm not particularly fond of kids, and the idea of spending the rest of my life standing in front of a class room fills me with the kind of terror only people with stage fright can truly appreciate. We had a friend of the family visiting last year, from Boston, who was one of the teachers of the year there; brilliant, wonderful woman, and Mom tried to corner her into coaching me to become a teacher, and Lydia refused, trying to explain to Mom that she agreed with me. Not on the specifics, because I never got around to listing them right then, but Lydia just kind of knew.

Part of me thinks it's all just a "doctor or a lawyer" fantasy most parents must grow up with.

The thing is, I'd be happy to do anything if I could just pick something. I like history, and I'm reasonably good at it, so that's what I'm taking at college. I still want to be a writer, but it's become obvious to me over the years you need a day job to do the rest of the time, so I'm not even trying to go for an English major. Just a minor. When I took my archaeology class last summer it became apparent to me how much I like doing something with my hands. That would be a dream job if field archaeology paid more than six thousand dollars a year.

There's a guy at my college in charge of the rare book room, which looks like it's a brilliant job, but the last time I chatted with him Oxford was where you get Rare Book Preservation degrees, and I couldn't get a handle on what the demand/salary was for a Rare Book person (but doesn't that job sound awesome? You should have seen some of the books).

Part of me was thinking about perhaps going for some version of art and history, in the hopes of doing authentication work or restoration, but according to the History sites I've found that kind of work might be covered under general history, at least at a museum.

Dad is slightly less wound up about it. He's happy so long as I'm happy, but at the same time he poked fun at me the other week about choosing a major that's going to wind up with me living in a box.

A good day for writing and a suprise at the grocery store...

I saw this in the grocery store book section. ^_^ Made me laugh a little. 'But Lucas doesn't wear a red tunic, and he's got different armor!' at the very least. And the hair is all wrong, for him.

I managed to type a lot today. I've been having trouble with Rome for a few weeks, words won't come, and now that I've gotten to one of the big parts I've planned for over a year I can't quite seem to get them *there* yet. 2688 words today, though, and they came pretty easily.

Rec-ing Ball: Fake Eyelashes

I hate mascara, even though it looks really brilliant on me. I've got really sensitive eyes, and it makes them burn. I hate that, because I'll just start rubbing them and make it worse, and get my makeup everywhere anyway. Besides, it's really not fair that guys always have huge perfect eyelashes.

Anyway, got home from work, forgot what it was but something at work reminded me of this white page boy wig I haven't worn in forever so I went off to look for it. Needed a good brushing before it was wearable, and then I had to remember how you tuck your hair in it and all that. Put it on, and suddenly I'm a lot paler. And I can't recall what kind of makeup goes with really white blond hair, other than heavy black eye makeup.

I'd forgot that I'd also bought some fake eyelashes during the After Halloween Sale this year, thought I'd give them a go.

And they're totally awesome. They don't burn. They feel a little weird, and I know I didn't get them on perfectly straight and close to my actual lashes, and I look a little garish (I joked to my friend if I ever go to a LARP again (one of the indoor ones, not the camping ones) I'm totally wearing this stuff) but omg, I have lashes! And no burning! And they actually curl!



How sweet is that?!