image-editing question

someone--elfiepike?--how do you make transparent gifs? you know, so you can have an icon with pieces cut out, and the background shows through them?

i just got lands' end in the mail.

now, for the most part, i'm not going to want to wear their clothes until i'm in my thirties at least, however--their polartec is second to none.

someone PLEASE inform me that i do NOT need a new chartreuse polartec pullover OR a reversible orange or red jacket? yeah, thanks. ::kisses::

furthermore, i need new tennis shoes--mine don't have adequate treads for work. i need, in other words, REAL tennis shoes. like new balance. or reebok. <--is going to have to SEARCH the fucking NET for them, ewewew >.

thievery base and cunning and stuff!

stealing of icons belonging to other people is SO NOT-COOL.

you walk in and my strength walks out the door
say my name and i can't fight it anymore
oh, i know i should go, but i need your touch just too damn much

^quote was used as one of the headings in [burn]. or, well, the middle of it. lalalaaaaaaaaaaaa.

canada with your face sketched on it twice--in my blood like holy wine, taste so bitter, bitter, and

::pokes fandoms:: kerfluffle more, dammit. ENTERTAIN ME.

<--is NOT going to go start a fight. ::sniffle::

i met a woman; she had a mouth like yours. she knew your devils and your deeds and she said, 'go, and stay with him, but be prepared to bleed.'

(no subject)

*

you can see in the seal our latin motto, 'terras irradient.'

terras irradient = illumine the earth [w/ knowledge]. from the library special collections online archive page:

I must tell you a little story that has given me a chuckle. Two of my associates on the Mutual Life Insurance Company Board are Yale chaps of the class of 1912. The three of us dined together a week ago at the “21 Club” in New York City. As we were standing at the bar waiting for a call to dinner, what should I discover on one of the pillars alongside the bar but one of our Amherst Shields. I promptly told the Yale chaps that I would now find our how much of an education they had received at New Haven, and asked them to translate our Latin motto, Terras Irradient. After a lengthy pause, one of them spoke up --"Shiny dirt!"

* looks like pomona college ripped us off, ne!

shoe help--cliokat?

i know what i want. i want red new balance 574s. i'm willing to buy men's if i have to. i cannot find them ANYWHERE. they MUST exist, right? where should i go?

edit: i bought these instead. saucony. approximately same appearance, cheaper than nb. i don't actually need to run in them.



( big version! whee! )

i don't like mondays. oh wait... it's friday. :)

conversation summary:

1. i'm wearing a cute flannel skirt.
me. oh, i want to see!
1. it's sort of school-girl-ish.
me. well, it's cold so i'm all bundled up and not particularly cute.
1. pshaw, you're always cute.

::curls up in a happy little ball::

::clears throat and curtseys briefly::

DIE POPUPS DIE AND BURN IN FUCKING HELL.

meanwhile, my housemates think i'm insane. well, yay... maybe they'll leave me alone. a girl can always hope. and she can also go to cvs and buy nailpolish and a tiara. and a present for her darling. it's the little things that cheer you up, and if you've got a job, why not spend money like water?

goodbye, cruel world! drinks vodka erm... sleepytime and lemon hot tea...

ze day

so i got up and moped about the computer. i always get up two hours before class to wake up, and also to chat, and so even though i'm checking email and such, if wax isn't about i mope. wax appeared! happiness was restored! and then she left. eh.

so i went to class, nearly fell asleep, possibly failed a quiz, signed up to get the remote AL voter registration form sent to my box, ate lunch, blah blah. it was good.

walked into town, to cvs, and dropped off the film--the pictures will be ready, btw, on monday. you'll all get to see dale!cim, otherwise known as Your Friendly Neighborhood Cheap Whore. only possibly friendlier. also my hair, and the horrific stuff i did to ninglor's, the castle on the smith campus and various other goodies. i also bought a tiara. i was slightly miffed that it's not as spiffy as audrey's, but i'm over that. hey, my part of the s/r story is over 3000 words now. whoot!

website updates.

my main webpage, [sordid fancy], has been updated on the disclaimer bit with links to my other fiction: [penchance] (harry potter) at the lovely thelionforreal's [proclivities]; [exquisite] (nsync); [intuition/evaluation] (star trek); and this piece of whimsy ('cimorene and wax jism's scrapbook: newspaper clippings from the universe of fandom queens'). [edit: or not. what is with the flash animation? gaaah. ::tears hair.:: okay, the others are still there, though, just not the whimsy.]

also in these new links you'll find [naina's spot], the hosted site of my chicky southpaw526.

formatting woes

die, line breaks, die.

do i HAVE to do this before i can write? yes. wax_jism, if you paste plaintext without linebreaks into a hotmail message, hotmail adds the breaks. guuuuuuuuuuh.

i'm sorry that i left you with your questions all alone

1. my ankles are cold;
2. this song is morose;

and

3. i've found persistent patterns of fixable things in this story, just completely by accident. am i becoming more impartial? 'read not as a reader but as a writer.' it works, it works. hm.

notice to all dwellers in my house.

when adrienne was here i turned the heat up to 72 or so, which is what we keep it at home in the winter, i believe, and we have much milder winters. then the guy across the hall emailed the whole house that we all have to 'share the thermostat' and he thinks '75' is excessive even though he does not object to using the heat.

dear motherfuckers, i understand that you don't like heat. unfortunately, we live in an old house, and as i spend a lot more time in the house than you do, if we heat the entire thing to your whims, i will spend a great deal more time unhappy than you will spend basking in your choice of temperature. now, when it's this cold i can curl up in bed under blankets, or i can try to type with my fingers numb, or i can turn up the heat. if you picked door #3, congratulations, you've won the crocheted bathtub and the year's supply of mouse food. love, cim.

cim's everything you wanted to know about social psychology and obligation

it's irrational to get pissed off when, like, people are rude to you randomly, or inconsiderate, or whatever. people are bound by laws and by rules (say, if they attend a school or whatever) and by obligations that they enter into. social obligations are another thing entirely, which isn't to say that they don't exist, but people don't have to follow them. you don't have rights to things from other people, beyond those rules and laws. you don't have the right to expect things from them, really; and our whole society, all of human society, is built around expectations and unwritten contracts and if you do this for me i'll do it for you, and it works. it works. but what works in the general--doesn't work in the specific, because no given person has to--. give up their seat because you need it more, or step out of your way, or let you cross the street, or make allowances for you showing up late, or say something nice to you simply because they know that you'd like them to. but we're wired, wired, to expect it. and thus to be disappointed. we're wired to expect things to be fair, and in that we include that if we do something for someone they return the favor, and if we like someone we like them, so we're monumentally offended if someone we liked doesn't like us, or if we do something nice for someone who accepts it rather blankly, and does not feel moved to be nice in return.

i'm a lonely painter
i live in a box of paints
i'm frightened by the devil
and i'm drawn to those who ain't afraid
i remember the time you told me love is touching souls
surely you've touched mine
because part of you pours out of me
in these lines from time to time

(no subject)

my dad wore a clip-on tie to his own wedding.