lotesse: (glamazon)
Inspired by Miley Cyrus, I am considering bleaching my leg hair. Because I hate shaving, and have kind of a lot of very light peach fuzz on the rest of my body, but darker hair on my legs, and if it was all light-colored fuzz I think I could go unshaven without any selfconsciousness at all.
lotesse: (lostgirl_appleprincess)
So I just did the easiest cut-your-own-hair trick EVER - comb the whole mess into a ponytail at the exact top of your head, pull the ponytail forward, cut a straight line across, and it comes out a decent layered look. Mine doesn't look any worse than it did before! - but it probably helps that it's long, curly, and looks best in a sort of messy mermaid style.

A gorgeous warm day today, so I went out with a trash bag and did some picking up after a winter's worth of undergrads. I got to be out of doors and the yard and walk are much prettier and nicer to be in now, so everyone wins.

I sent off a couple of conference proposals last night that I'd been fretting over for weeks - one I might likely get, the other's an incredibly far stretch but the panel topic was so close to issues I've been researching this year, I couldn't not. Am anxious about the entire thing, but also so much lighter now they're gone.

Links to other cool things around the internet:

an older xkcd, found tripping on random, but I grinned so hard over Sagan-man that I want to memorialize the moment. Carl Sagan, you will always be a superhero in my heart!

originally in Harper's, via adamantine, Quitting the Paint Factory: "trouble - the kind that might threaten the symmetry of a well-ordered garden – needs time to take root. Take away the time, therefore, and you choke off the problem before it begins. Obedience reigns, the plow stays in the furrow; things proceed as they must. Which raises an uncomfortable question: Could the Church of Work – which today has Americans aspir­ing to sleep deprivation the way they once aspired to a personal knowledge of God – be, at base, an anti-democratic force?"

from Vulture, Why it doesn't matter that the second season of Downton Abbey was mediocre: "On Downton, there are no sociopath mobsters you care about despite yourself, or adulterous, lying ladies' men you are attracted to, or admirable but murderous drug dealers, or increasingly psychotic and pathetic chemistry teachers, or any other sort of semi-good but maybe really bad person with deep-seated psychological issues. It is about lovely people with lovable flaws who are trying to do the best they can most of the time."

(I am not entirely sure I agree with this entirely - it papers over the issue that those lovely people are also pretty much Oppressive Overlords, in the same way the show does, and I think that pulling apart Downton's loveliness from its nascent feudalism is an important part of enjoying it. Also I liked the second series better, for all its soapiness, so there.)
lotesse: (btvs_firstslayer)
So I enjoyed large chunks of X-Men: First Class. Truly, the slash was with this one. But the more I think about them, the more three things about it really bother me:

1. Whhhhy the dead bro walking/evil oversexed Latina fail? Whhhhhhyyy?!

2. The repeated failures of historicization. Emma Frost? I don't know where you get your lingerie, but that's not really what bras looked like in the 1960s. The makeup had the wrong textures - all those wet/glossed mouths! - and the fashion was vaguely 60s-inflected but I'm wondering what fabrics they used because the weight/motion seems subtly off to me. This sounds v. picky, but is linked, imo, to problems that others have noted in the film's inability to so much as mention the Civil Rights Movement.

3. It turns out that Michael Fassbender is a wife-beater. That sound you just heard? His sexy evaporating in the heat of my rage. Screw you, asshat.
lotesse: (Claudio)
1: French. French test done and done! The translation was from Le Petit Prince, so that was yay. Checking my notes, I know for sure that I muffed one or two things, but I think I'm going to be okay.

2: Shoes. Got my birthday present from my mum in the mail - she sent me cute sandals! Strappy black, with two-inch-ish tapered heels, well-balanced enough to actually walk in, without ankle straps because those do un-good things to the look of my legs. Mama's started cultivating this habit of buying shoes for me and then mailing them for various gifts. I think she thinks it's fun to buy for me, because my feet are completely standard in measurement, and she wears a women's size 11 narrow. I love getting actual objects in the mail, and also having a mother with excellent taste in shoes.

3: Cinema. Still have not seen the new PotC. Maybe tomorrow? Sometime this week, anyway. But it was gorgeous out today, and I didn't want to spend it in the cinema. Oh, but I did see the new Jane Eyre, and was absolutely appalled. I didn't know it was possible to make Jane that much of a frail victim - or Charlotte Brontë's prose that flat and humorless! They must've worked to cut out that novel's zing!

(3½: signal boost to this petition asking the psychology community to repudiate that awful piece of scientific racism recently printed in Psychology today)
lotesse: (anne_loverapture)
Spent the last two hours trying to find new and interesting things to do with my hair. It's bust-length, and in the summer it's got thick wavy curls - at least it does here in humid Indiana - so I can slam it up however I want and it generally looks pretty fab. But in winter it gets frizzy and tangly and glommy and gnarly. If it was like my mother's and just went bone-straight and slightly staticky that would be one thing, but it turns into this matting clump of frizzing ungood.

I've been trying to work against that, and going for heavily pinned and braided styles, but tbh I don't like how my face looks with my hair flat. I like having round voluminousness up-top to match the roundness of my facial shape - to make a virtue out of necessity, as it were. So tonight I decided to go with the frizzy/mattiness and learn how to do a Gibson Girl. I'm not willing to actually, intentionally mat my hair, so my volume is slightly less than it could be, but overall the look's pretty badass. And would be easier if I had better hairpins - bobby pins are too high-hold, I think. I need to get some more big two-prong pins - one of those, if it's got wavy prongs, is enough to hold up almost all my hair, and they're a lot easier to work with.

I like doing hair - I grew up in a household with three long-haired women, once we were teens and mama would let us grow ours out, and we spent a lot of family time curling or braiding or twisting. Maybe that's why I write about it all the time. Out of the 51 stories I have up on the AO3, 12 feature hair in a non-incidental capacity; three years ago I centered my whole yuletide story about hairstyling. Everyone in my stories is either putting up or unpinning or braiding or cutting their hair. It's a thing.

rargh

17 May 2010 07:26 pm
lotesse: (waitingforthemiracle)
So, Summer Job moves into in-person training this week, which means I have to fly to fricking Dallas - grumble grumble - and I can't take my cats, and I think I'll have to buy vodka ect when I get there because can't you like not fly with liquids anymore? - and I'm having the Clothes Freakout.

I have the wrong body for business casual! Shirts always look revealing on me, due to my Rack of Doom, and I've been a feminist for too long to endure feeling uncomfortable. Dress slacks are uncomfortable, but my preferred sleeveless-top-and-big-skirt look is too hippy, too casual - and too frumpy. And when I'm in my own space usually I can deal with the emotional ish and dress how I like, but when it's a new space and new people, oh I wanna be cool and cute and fashionable and grownup and appropriate and I feel, right now, like I'm just really fundamentally bad at being those things.

I'm going with Nice Scoopneck Tees and Dress Pants and Not Worrying About It. And spending most of my time hiding in my hotel room with my laptop talking to you folks.
lotesse: (feminism - Buffy)
Cheezus crust. I went bra-shopping today. And now I'm all ranty. )
lotesse: (feminism - Buffy)
I've been thinking about Stuff.

I graduate from college in two months, and at that point the remaining bits of parental money that have been coming into my checkbook are at an end. I feel deeply overwhelmed by the stress of finding work that pays enough for me to live on. And deed to that, I'm at that time of the year when all my stuff is getting old and wearing out, and I feel like I have all these needs that I can't fulfill, and it's been spazzing me out.

And then I realized that most of those needs were derived from patriarchal compulsory femininity.

I don't have enough fashionable clothes. I'm running out of cosmetics. I need new shoes. And then I thought, my boyfriend isn't stressed out like this. Granted, he generally looks like he got pulled backwards through a briar bush, owing to his reluctance to do something with his hair, but he's not flipping his lid, and I am. And I don't need to be, even if I think I will continue to eschew the briar bush.

I have warm clothing. I have a place to live. I can afford food. I don't need new lipstick.

The patriarchal/capitalistic propaganda organs of my world have been yelling at me that if I don't have a constant stream of new, femmey stuff, I'm not a proper woman. But I don't have to care. I can have enough, and not think about it so fucking much. It will feel a lot less like poverty if I let go of the pornification mandate. I have plenty of pretty things, and I can make more out of the ones that are wearing out. I think I'm going to cut up a green silk dress that I bought ages ago and use it to patch and trim all the stuff that I don't like any more.

I don't need new shoes. I like the ones I've got just fine. Thy just have to be enough to get me where I'm going, no more than that.

(It makes my irony button deeply happy that I've been thinking and writing about this while listening to my bubblegumpop playlist on iTunes.)
lotesse: (literature - Victorian)
Gaaaack I'm never going to be able to write on Virginia Woolf! I have no critical brain for her at all, I'm just all happy sighs and perfect contentment and I don't even really have to understand what's going on cause it still makes me swoony. Is hard to write on objects of fangirlish passion.

I need to buy some goddamn pants. The top rivet on my jeans popped off, and for like a day I was squeezing it back together every time I went to the bathroom. Problem was eventually solved with superglue, but still. I think it might sort of be a sign. But then again, it's almost summer, so maybe I can get away without buying jeans until next fall. I hate pants so frelling much. I think I will go to the Salvation Army this weekend and buy a million tops to salve my wounded soul.

... I can totally tell that Supernatural is on hiatus right now, because my fanbrain is empty, and that makes me sad. I think I need to find a new shiny thing. Maybe we'll start watching Farscape. I want to keep streaming first season Xena from Netflix, but the Boy can't seem to get beyond the camp of it all. Eh. Am watching the BBC Pride and Prejudice in the background to take the edge off.

daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin

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