true fact: i once worked at lacanian ink for a grand total of two weeks.
this is really all you need to know about lacan
Working on my sloths
This was for a final project in my class!
soooooooooooo I was originally not supposed to see this when it went up on Tumblr originally—what does it say about me as a teacher that my final projects may involve spoilers?
Aaaanyway I baleeted it and now I’m rebageling it since it’s been turned in for real.
Re-reading a lot of old Werewolf: the Apocalypse books is giving me the sudden urge to play laser tag.
Find this blue glittery goodness here: http://superblacklacquers.com/collections/super-black-lacquers/products/the-bends
Baaaaasically just begged my partner to buy me some of this as an early birthday present. My birthday’s in August.
I have only ever worn a suit as part of my extremely brief drag career as “Francis Ford Cockula” and that was A) menswear and B) from Goodwill. I have to buy an actual women’s suit, in a plus size to boot, to wear to job interviews this year and I’m pretty baffled. So much ugly.
Last day of class. I only hugged one person, but one guy drew me a hand turkey. There were also sloths studying on the drillfield, Nicholas Cage’s head on the body of a sloth, and liberal use of “Eye of the Tiger” to back a student video about laptop charger use.
I love my job.
I should be working on a Cache Simulator for my Computer Organization Class but instead I’m drawing sloths using computers on the drillfield for my Technical Writing Cover Page.
brb weeping (the sloth is for my class)
One of the things no one tells you about being a teacher is that you learn how easy it is love a group of strangers. Maybe it’s the conditions under which you come to know them (teacher and student), but I think it’s something more than that: it’s the promise you make to each other: that you will try to be good, that you will try to do something that matters, that you will live (however briefly) in a space full of hope and wonder and imagination. And when you see others in that space, it’s kind of hard not to love them.
My feelings exactly.
i pray nightly, daily, and thrice in the afternoon to one day be able to harness the power and the glory of the self that would allow me to openly and rightfully judge a motherfucker while wearing a silk shirt with my own face on it
Specifically, the bard I play in our long-running D&D game has been talking about wanting to have a breastplate with her own face on it for months and months. LIKE THIS.