It's quiet. Too quiet.

(And qualified, contingent, lots of may-it-all-work-out~ma-filled congratulations, omnis!)

I'm meeting with my advisor tomorrow. Kind of dreading it. But at least I do have a plan for what to do if he hasn't read the paper yet.

Also, I just realized I missed the deadline for a travel grant I was going to apply for. Oops. Still going to SF, just going to have to pay for a bit more of it myself.

Okay then, random recent conversations with Matilda concerning robots.

1)

Matilda: Daddy, I want you to buy a dog!
Me: You and Emmett.
Matilda: I want a robot dog. And a robot cat. They're friends.

2)

"When I was a baby I came out of Mommy's belly. And I bit the robot hand. I bit it and chewed if off."

[I immediately went to an Invader Zim place of "I love you cold unfeeling robot arm!" but she was actually referring to her mutilation of JZ's Calculon figure from Futurama. Which happened several years after her birth.]

I love ordering from Aromaleigh because they give samples. And thanks to said samples, I now have a new favorite eye shadow, arielle.

I did have a pang of "am I too old?" when I tried a sample from the gothic lolita collection, but it was such a perfect color. Sigh. Somehow, although my music taste has always skewed gothy, my clothing style is too tame for me to feel like anything but a poser.

my clothing style is too tame for me to feel like anything but a poser.

Surely there's an academic goth look. All those robes.

My college looked like frickin' Hogwarts at graduation when all the profs came out in their academic robes from their various alma maters.

Not my college but shit like this.

The basic design of all academic costume in the United States was established in 1895 and was first used at Emory by the class of 1902. There are three types of gowns, three styles of hoods, and two kinds of cap tassels included in American academic costume. The bachelor's gown is without ornamentation and has long, pointed open sleeves; the master's gown is similar but has even longer sleeves, which are closed at the bottom (with openings about midway for the hands). The doctor's gown has full-length lapels of velvet and bell-shaped sleeves with three horizontal velvet bars. Tassels for bachelors and masters are black; tassels of gold thread may be worn by doctors. Gowns and caps are usually black, although Emory and other schools have specified that their doctors may wear gowns of distinctive colors. Yale's deep blue doctoral gown, Harvard's crimson, Columbia's dark blue, and Emory's blue and gold are a few that may be seen in the procession. Most of the other colorful gowns and the unusual caps are from universities abroad.

The hood varies for the respective degrees, the doctor's hood being longer and fuller than the others. The major field of study can be determined from the velvet facing on the hood according to the following color scheme: white, the arts; gold-yellow, science; purple, law; apricot, nursing; green, medicine; sapphire, business; scarlet, theology; salmon, public health; light blue, education; and dark blue, doctors of philosophy. The hood is lined with silk in the colors of the institution that granted the degree. For Emory graduates, the lining is blue with a chevron of gold.

Rats, sorry about the travel grant. But still, yay for coming to SF.

Last night I went to the interfaith marriage equality service. The high point was probably hearing Harvey Milk's rabbi read the Prayer of St. Francis, at which I managed not to cry but my sinuses instantly expanded into a solid fleshy mass with the effort of not crying, so I'm not sure if the not crying was worth it.

The other huge high point was hearing a representative from Marriage Equality USA talk about her faith, and the no on 8 campaign, and the work done by another rep who lives up in a smallish redneck town about halfway between here and Oregon, and the incredibly brave and scary work she did in her community in the weeks before November '08--just knocking on the front door of every house that had a Yes on 8 sign in the yard, being invited in for coffee because they were all neighbors and all knew each other, and outing herself to one neighbor after another, just looking them all in the eye and saying, "When you put that sign up, you were talking about me, to me. Let me tell you what that means to me." She knocked on 199 doors, and 198 people took their signs down. (She never asked them to, they just did it.)

Such crazy giant courage. But how wearying, sickening and shitty that she had to do it at all.

And there was pretty music, awesome MLK quotes, and sappy, lovely handholding and earnestness.

The low point, unfortunately, was seeing my cousin's douchegasket ex-husband sit down in a pew across from mine and try to make eye contact with me. I ended up leaving a little early, mostly because I'd promised to be back at a certain time and didn't want to be late but also partly because I just didn't want to deal with him. At. All. I couldn't picture any outcome to any conversation that wouldn't end in me shrieking and disrupting all the good stuff that had gone before, and the event was so very much not about me and my family drama.

Bleah. There was so much that was very, very good about the evening, but I don't know if I can stomach seeing that fuckweasel on a regular basis. Next time I'll have to schlep over to one of the East Bay events.

Congratulations, Callaluna!

and I agree with you windsparrow that it is very unfair that you don't get to play with the kitty's tale.

and even though your cousin's ex tried to ruin the post, hs did not succeed. Because it was lovely and made me teary before I got to the unfun part.

I did have a pang of "am I too old?" when I tried a sample from the gothic lolita collection, but it was such a perfect color.

Ooh, which color? And no, you are not "too old" to wear it.

JZ, that does sound like a good gathering. I'm glad you were able to avoid confronting your cousin's ex.

Congratulations Callaluna!!!