Email

I am furious at my Dad.  He sent me this really condescending email about some plans I am in the process of making. 
I realize that part of the problem is that my parents are incapable of communicating with one another, and so, instead of just talking to my Mom, he's emailed me.  And because he's all angry at no one consulting him, he's taking it out on me. 
I really want to write him a nasty email back; tell him not to bother worrying about it.  Or even less nasty email simply stating that I'll answer his emails in full when he talks to me with a little respect. 

Research Work

Work today was mostly uneventful.  Jocelyn had left me an email with the directions to print out two copies of a file for her, which I did.  I noticed after I did it that it had been sent to print four pages onto one page, which made everything small, but since that was the way the file was set, I didn't mess with it.  And then I left it on her desk.
Then I continued on my research of a particular project.  After a while, Jocelyn came in and said she wanted them to be one page on one page, so I changed the files settings and printed out another two copies.  The file was at least 200 pages, so this was a massive print job.  I was half expecting the printer to run out of paper, or if I was really unlucky, ink.  I feel a little bad about it because I hate wasting paper on anything, and I managed to do that unintentionally. 
Then I sat down and worked through more research.  And that was my entire day. 
This job is nice, but sometimes really isolating.  Also, I need to get busy because people are going to ask what the heck I'm doing all the time.  (At this point it looks like not much, but this is one of those things where it looks like nothing right near the end.) 
The boss wasn't in today at all, which is too bad, because I like talking to her. 
Also, everyone else left early today, so I just let myself out fifteen minutes early.  People here are pretty loose on schedules and you know when people are leaving because it's customary to say goodbye. 

John Barrowman Swings Cole Porter

My friend Matt sent me an email alerting me to the news that John Barrowman has a CD out called John Barrowman Swings Cole Porter.  Sounds delightful.
Unlike most people, it wasn't until Torchwood season two that I really fell for Barrowman.  I didn't hate him beforehand, I just thought his character was kind of sleazy.  But after the Proust thing and how sweet he was to Ianto, I was sold. 

Listening to the CD sample bits on Amazon, he has a decent voice.  I imagined his voice was rougher and lower than it is here.  To be honest, I'm not much for Cole Porter, or musicals in general these days, but I like Barrowman so much. 
So, you know, as the Monty Python boys say "nudge, nudge, wink, wink." 

Interview Prayer

Josie has her interview today to get into graduate school. She sent me an email this morning asking me to pray for her.
I'm going to ask the rest of you to do the same.
Since we're both of a certain religious persuation, I did a little research. One of the patron saints of schools is Thomas Aquinas. (Which makes a lot of sense, if you're familiar with him. He spent a lot of time working at the University of Paris and was a Dominican, a type of friar famous for working as teachers and preachers.)
I did a little looking online, I found a Student's Prayer, which is actually surprisingly decent. I had a high school teacher mention that as long as there are tests, there will be prayer in schools. I found an more official looking prayer, but nothing that actually helps me pray that Josie will get into the school she wants to. You'd think by now, someone would have begged Thomas Aquinas for that exact thing.

Early Feminsim

Today, I got an email from my employer. She wanted to know if I could stay an extra hour at work. Could I ever!
I realize that this is not the usual response. Most people would drag their heels. I was happy, since I want more hours (and more moolah.) Also, I recently put my employer on my resume, so this is a great way to remind her that I'm reliable. Really.
I work in an art gallery, which is possibly one of the coolest gigs ever. Right now, there's an exhibit showing comics (to which you should all go.) Mostly, because it's so quiet on Fridays, I do homework. Today, I finished that book on William Marshal and started on an essay about the Nationalist movement in Tanzania and feminism. Last week, the curator of the show came by, which does on occasion happen, but usually, they just look around and make sure nothing's burning or turned to a crisp. This guy actually sat there, and I couldn't help but wonder if I was being judged.
This week he wasn't around, and it was a big relief. Because he wasn't around, I felt safe sitting at the table that was covered in comics for us to read so that I could read the first book of the English Sailor Moon.
Sailor Moon was my first anime as a kid. I was about seven when the show aired on television in the mornings before I went to school, and I loved it. Looking back on it, a lot of it is silly and overdone and campy, but it still makes me smile. I have always thought of myself as a feminist, and a show written about girls for girls wasn't something I appreciated in a larger cultural sense (since I hadn't yet noticed how the majority of media is created for white Christian men). Even as a young girl, I liked the idea of young women who were strong and powerful and capable of working together, despite differences.