apple_pathways: Whatever floats your boat! (Default)
Last night I had a dream that I got a job in a whorehouse. I've been stressing out lately about not having a full-time job, and how I'm going to be able to afford to go back to school, and blah blah blah, and what does my subconscious give me? "Hey, you could always be a whore!" Thanks, brain: that was extremely helpful.

I am totally not qualified to be a whore. Or a hairdresser. )

My mother and I are now swinging into full-scale GARDENING MODE, and this was our kickoff weekend. We went to Block's (a nursery with the best prices and selection on flats of annuals) and Detroit's Eastern Market to buy flowers, veggies, and herbs. Also, my perennial herb garden that I planted last summer is coming back, and looking gorgeous! (Minus a few comrades who didn't survive the winter. R.I.P. golden oregano, variegated sage, lemongrass, lemon verbena, and two lavendars.)

Here are some photos of what we've got going on. I whittled it down to the best pics, and spared you about a dozen views of my teeny tiny herb garden!



Cut for OBSCENE GARDEN PORN! XXXX )
apple_pathways: Whatever floats your boat! (Default)
delicious boots

Note to self: you are not allowed to buy cowboy boots. You do not, in the strictest sense of the word, need cowboy boots. You have to buy books for school, and gas for the car so you can get to school and also to your job so that you can buy more books and gas. It doesn't matter that they're on sale and quite a good price and they actually have your size and OMG LOOK HOW GORGEOUS THEY ARE! None of that. Now put your debit card away, and move on.

Ahem.

So anyway, for the first time in a long time, I have an idea for an original (not fanfic) story. The more I think about it, the more I'm falling in love with the idea, but I'm a bit nervous about starting it for a couple of reasons:
Reasons and more behind the cut! )
apple_pathways: Whatever floats your boat! (Double Karen)
All righty, in order to preserve people's flists and not bum everybody out, I'm going to post the majority of this entry behind a cut. I'm in a confessional mood, which is rare, so hold tight.

Everyone else, enjoy this picture of a sunflower I took today:

red sunflower

If you're still with me... )
apple_pathways: Whatever floats your boat! (Amy "Oh Dear!")
A few years ago I signed up for a free online dating/social networking site. I signed up initially because they have a lot of fun personality quizzes, and I thought I would like to write some of my own (you need an account to do that). After a couple years, and after becoming extremely frustrated with trying to date people live and in person, I thought I would fill out a profile and see how things went. I did on go on a couple (disastrous) dates, but mostly, I just ignore the fact that this profile exists. Occasionally, I log on to see if anyone has messaged me, or if they've come up with any interesting matches.

Mostly I log on for the entertainment value.

Here are some tips to guys for choosing a photo to put on their profile:

  • SMILE. It is not other guys you are trying to impress here. You don't look like a BAMF; you look like a constipated psychopath.
  • Do not take a picture of yourself in your bathroom mirror with your shirt off. There is no way to make that look casual.
  • No creepy mood lighting. You're looking for a DATE, not a role in a slasher film.
  • Don't use a picture of you drinking. You may not be a raging alcoholic, but that's the conclusion drawn when you choose to represent yourself to the word with a photo of you downing a shot behind a table littered with a dozen empty glasses.
  • Use a photo with just you in it. I don't want to guess which one you are in a group shot.
  • Especially don't use a photo of you snuggling with a female friend. It makes me think "boundary issues" and envision lots of irritating discussions about what constitutes a "friendly" backrub.
  • It would be nice if the photo were adequately lit and in focus. And of something other than a close-up on your bicep.



And this concludes today's installment of "Amy is a judgmental bitch who is single for a reason."

Prose Envy

Aug. 20th, 2010 09:55 pm
apple_pathways: Whatever floats your boat! (Dragons Can Be Killed)
I'm finding it incredibly difficult to write like myself at the moment. I don't have the clearest idea of what I write like in my purest, most unadulterated form (apparently I say things like "most unadulterated"), but I do constantly find myself wishing I wrote more like this person, or that person, or that famous author.

I read an incredibly beautiful story full of rich sensory experiences, and I want to include more vivid descriptions in my writing. I read a story that's elegant in its simplicity, and I want to adopt my own style to be more clean and concise. I read something funny, I want to be funny; I read something tragic, I want to be tragic. It goes on: more intellectual, more literary, more allegorical, more accessible, etc. etc. etc.

It's odd, this internet life where I pretend to be a writer.

Meme Tag

Aug. 19th, 2010 09:47 pm
apple_pathways: Whatever floats your boat! (Gashlycrumb Tinies)
[livejournal.com profile] housemaid79 tagged me with a meme; YIKES! Have I not mentioned before what a boring person I am? Well, at least I get to change some of the questions... *evil laugh*

If you've been tagged, you must write your answers in your own lj and replace any question that you dislike with a new question.
Tag eleven people. Don't refuse to do that. Don't tag who tagged you.


(ETA: I really, really want to change the instructions for this! I hate the threatening "don't refuse to do that!", because people should be able to participate even if they're too shy to tag people. Also, "don't tag WHOMEVER tagged you". Ok, phew, got that off my chest!)

Q&As behind the cut )

I tag: [livejournal.com profile] be_my_constant, [livejournal.com profile] emma_moon, [livejournal.com profile] curlybeach, [livejournal.com profile] jacknjill270, [livejournal.com profile] ladyelleth, [livejournal.com profile] ladylovelace, [livejournal.com profile] ragdoll, [livejournal.com profile] the_willows, [livejournal.com profile] stick_poker, [livejournal.com profile] voltairesvice, [livejournal.com profile] spacefall

(If you don't want to do it, no hard feelings from me; just trying to play by the rules!)
apple_pathways: Whatever floats your boat! (Gashlycrumb Tinies)
(Just in case you missed the title of this post, I wanted to reiterate that what follows will contain some rather graphic descriptions of blood and gore; not slasher-movie bad, obviously, but as someone who grew up with a blood phobia, I know I would have appreciated being warned.)

So I just finished hosing blood and the remains of my mother's amputated fingertip off of our garage door.

Let me say that again: my mother amputated the tip of her finger in our garage door! Yes!

Last night our power went out, so when she left for her job this morning she had to open and close the garage door manually. When she was closing it again, she managed to get the tip of her finger pinched in the door. I was still in bed, and so woke up to screams of, "I THINK I NEED TO GO THE HOSPITAL!" I hastily dressed and drove her out to the ER.

My mom takes blood thinners for a heart condition, and so she bled EVERYWHERE. Fortunately, there were no more pressing injuries ahead of us at the ER, so she was taken back to a room fairly quickly. The worst part was that every person who entered her room (probably about 10 total) opened with, "OMG, what happened?!" and my mother got to relive the embarassing and agonizing story over and over again.

The best part was that there was a TV in the room, and so when the hand doctor (what is the name for that?) came in to operate on her finger we got to watch Martha Stewart throughout the procedure. I was fine and not squeamish at all until he started snipping at the bone (he had to remove the finger down to the top knuckle) and I had to pretend that the crunching noise I heard was someone exhuberantly enjoying a bag of potato chips, and not the man chopping at my mother's finger bone with what looked like a pair of needle-nosed pliers.

I'm glad I called into work early and told them I wouldn't be able to make, as naturally we were there all day, and I wasn't in the mood to teach math to whiny children afterwards.

All in all it went pretty well, and now I can affectionately refer to my mother as "stumpy", just in time for the family reunion and my brother's wedding!

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