[info]oritpetra


UNZIP MY BODY, TAKE MY HEART OUT

('cause i need a beat to give this tune)


as long as i can cry on your shoulder
flapper
[info]oritpetra
won't be growin' up, just older.

X-ring ceremony was yesterday.

And now I've got this sexy piece of bling-bling on my finger:



For those of you who don't attend Saint Francis Xavier University/don't know what it is...receiving this ring is probably the most exciting part of one's time at StFX. It's almost as big a deal, if not bigger, than convocating. We are like a cult, heh. The ring has had the same design for 60 years, and has become a symbol of the school. There's all kinds of stories of Xgrads running into each other all over the world.

Anyway, I'm not one for all the hype, but I got the ring anyway. It's got a lot of personal meaning for me -- about growing up, about enduring both the worst and best times of my life here, about the friends who also wear this ring. So yeah, not going to wax on about that, but I am rather ecstatic about finally getting this.

Yesterday went fabulously. Quick recap: Ceremony at 2pm; Got my ring at approximate 3:37pm; Lovely three course dinner and a lot of wine and martinis with the parents at this lovely tiny-tiny Italian bistro; Pre-drinks; Giant party at the Student Union Building; Back home, more drinks, other wonderful intoxicating substances, 15 people drunkenly singing Christmas Carols, then effin' hot shower-then-quickly-relocate to-bed-sex, then awesome sleep.

Best. Day. of. Life.

But alas, back to reality now!

I will have fun pictures of bling-bling and random shenanigans to post just as soon as thesis/two exams are over.

Kisses for you all. I hope you Decembers are going famously so far.

Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day
icon blue
[info]oritpetra
oh HAI journal!

I promise, I've not dropped of the face of LJ or the internet. I'm just consumed with work until 9pm on 11 December when my Christmas Break starts. XD

I am still reading all of you, if not always commenting. <3

ANYWAY, I needed to pop in briefly to share something with you that I think is pretty rad. Just click below for more info --

December 8th is Pretend to be a Time Traveler Day.

(I am totally considering doing this, and dressing up like in the icon I'm using here. Yes, the dystopian future will obviously be filled with gothic lolitas, har.)

wake me up when....november?....ends.
flapper
[info]oritpetra


An ice cream cake my roomies brought home a few days ago.

Amen.

the remnants of a hurricane | (original poetry)
flapper
[info]oritpetra
notes: i really don't know what to made of this one. your thoughts, and as always, any crits you've got, are incredibly welcomed and valued.

also: this one's got adult content. ye have been warned.


the remnants of a hurricane
came through town this weekend.
benign by the time it made it this
far north, but still enough to blow away
the last of the clinging leaves.

its winds stripped the landscape
undressing it for winter
like violent hands tugging at clothing
secured too well; too many buttons for

this much urgency.

still, it warmed the november air,
giving me a false sense of
summer security, and,
if i closed my eyes,
i could smell warm salt air.

so i took my bicycle out
and drove it fast, hard,
with my own sense of urgency,
the left pedal creaking
under my need to fly.

i wore a t-shirt, no bra underneath,
just so i could feel summer’s
final lingering kiss combine
with its last dying breath; exhaled
across my goose-fleshed chest.

i found a steep hill, and glanced around:
just what i was looking for – no cars,
no people, just a pin-straight incline
ruled with street-lamps.
i pedaled hard, hard, hard and then took off.

but as i raced down, the wind
and rain whipped at me
and summer’s caress turned to winter’s,
raising my nipples until they hurt.
and so i went home

where i crawled between the sheets
of my rumpled, unmade bed. ran a hand
over my breasts, and put the other down below
where i pressed, panted, moaned away
the chill of winter’s coming.

Tags:

sex | (original poetry)
flapper
[info]oritpetra
notes: c. 2006, with recent mods.


the race of blood
synapses fire
touch, touch, touch
me

breath catching
hands trembling
need, need, need
you

pieces of ordinary
on the floor
torn off
exposing you and me as

us

Tags:

centipede searches | (original poetry)
costume newspaper
[info]oritpetra

Notes: The following poem was written March 2008, and then recently revamped. The revamped version is below, but I have included the original version underneath the cut at the bottom of the entry. Feedback and crit is much appreciated. I am especially interested in which version you prefer.


damp,
haziness hangs heavily --
oranged and incandescent.  
night air filled

with the scent of charcoal,
wafting thick and overwhelming.
eyelids drift shut and
concrete breaks beneath feet
streetlamps melting into
the cracked concrete crevices

of my earthquake imagination,
as ideas decompose into senses.

rich scent of
decaying of adulthood
these skyrises and steel-brick constructs
melt in the heat of mind-conjured embers
and give way to childhood remembering.  
another world:

damp still,
but different – the wetness between old leaves
tossed up and turned over in centipede searches;
dirt building up under bitten fingernails.
afternoon air filled

with the smell of charcoal cooking up
summer memories

brief smile,
hastened reflection,
then key in the door
and back to brick.


original version, c. March 2008.  )
Tags:

unzip my body, take my heart out
flapper
[info]oritpetra


('cause i need a beat to give this tune).

EDIT: Also, because I have the next couple days off, I'll be around Skype a bit -- username: OritPetra. Feel free to bother me even if I am set to busy.

Just had the BEST day ever. Well, maybe I am being flagrant with my superlatives, but whatever. I don't care. THIS DAY WAS GOOD ENOUGH TO JUSTIFY MANY SUPERLATIVES.

Aced my German test.

Finished my Stained Glass final project, and this means that I have (a) the coolest piece EVAR hanging in the window, (2) no class on Thursday until next semester.

PREVIEWS:
     
(Bigger pictures are below, under the cut).

Inspired by[info]caitlin_chan, I watched like, the entire first season of my favourite childhood cartoon (check out the youtube link, it is a clip from the first episode):
 


Then I had the best meeting with my thesis advisor of life. He inflated my ego, and made him laugh and lose his train of thought like 5 times, we talked about the GirlTalk and K-OS concert that's going on here tomorrow, which I am sadly not attending, and I we somehow ended up talking about tye-dying clohtes. True academic luffs. Sigh. I also feel much better about where I'm at with my thesis now, and this is making me pleasantly bouncing.

And finally, I have the next two days off! Tomorrow is Remembrance Day and because I finished by final project for Stained Glass, I have every Thursday off until next semester. Hella-tight.

Before I skitter off to watch cartoons/bang off a paper of Proposition 8 and the effect of US federalism of the same-sex union issue, have some photos my stained glass project.

They are under the cut. Love you all <3

introductory stained class course, final project: hot air balloons )

and i said what about breakfast at tiffany's
flapper
[info]oritpetra

I think I just had the best breakfast ever and I felt the need to share.

Peanut butter, nutella, and banana sandwich. Gugh, orgasmic. Just spread the PB on one slice of bread, the nutella on the other, put banana slices inbetween, butter the outside of each bread slice and drop it in a the frying pan until the bread browns and the PB & N gets all melty (just like a grilled cheese, yo). You can also squeeze some honey on the inside if you want something extra sugary and t-to-the-a-to-the-s-t-y.

I promise you, it will be like eating the dirtiest, nastiest, hottest sex you have ever had. 

I should win some sort of award just for thinking it up.  

There's another delicious grilled sandwich which I can't take credit for, but should also be shared:

Grilled cheese with honey and apple slices. SO GOOD. They make it at the local organic cafe (called the Tall & Small), and it is one of my favourite lunch items of life. It's also pretty easy to make yourself. But make sure you splurge and use good cheese (I prefer a mix of old cheddar and mozerella) or it'll be subpar.


SO, F-LIST, WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE BREAKFAST FOOD? POST UP YOUR ANSWERS AND (IF YOU WANT) YOUR RECIPIES IN THE COMMENTS. <3
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if you can be good you'll live forever | (halloween '09 + haircut photos)
[info]oritpetra



(but if you're bad, you'll die when die)

Because I am bad lazy blogger, the two posts I've been putting off for sometime are getting combined into one. So, in the following, you'll get to see pictures of both my new haircut and my totally-awesome-not-remotely-lame Halloween costume. Just click the cut beneath the two preview photos below!

could the body close the mind out? stitch a seem across the eye? )
Tags: ,

someone's died again | (original poetry)
[info]oritpetra

someone’s died again.
there are lights on in the funeral home
across the way; i can see them faintly
from the steps of my front porch.

 i flick the butt of my cigarette to the ground.
don’t usually smoke but i’m in some sort of a mood
and the flickering embers look good
against the dull gray of early night.

 sit a while longer but soon i am
restless, cold; i need to move.
i tug the scratchy wool of my scarf over my face
and head off for a walk.

 i cut across the funeral home parking lot.
lights still on, but only three cars out front.
i can feel the gravel through the bottom of my sneakers,
they’re old and the soles are getting thin.

 in the garden out front there is a quince tree,
it’s november but its fruit still hangs heavy
off its leafless branches,
looking like ugly, stunted apples.

 i bit one once,
like eve, while he was walking me home
it was like vinegar; bitter and sharp.
he warned me, but i did it anyway.   

 later, as he pressed into me,
i could still taste the fruit’s acrid juice  
on my lips. so i licked them,
and i did not regret it.   

 i stop walking and pluck one down again
from the one of the barren branches
but it explodes, bursting out between my fingers;
rotten.  

 the walk goes by fast; this town is small,
and soon i’m passing that quince tree again,
and walking through that same parking lot,
which still only has three cars.

 but this time, it also has three people, all in black.  
“didn’t expect many folks to show anyways,”
one of them says, almost laughing. one of the others replies:
“most of them are just glad the bitch is dead.” 

 i look away and pretend not to hear.
just down there street there is a little girl
running on the sidewalk laughing, all pink mittens
and imaginary friends.  

and i wonder what separates her from the bitch
that’s dead in the funeral home.
and if it’ll all be the same in the end. and if
i should have bitten that fruit. 

**

CRIT AND FEEDBACK, AS ALWAYS, ASKED FOR AND WARMLY WELCOMED.
Tags:

and the violence caused such silence
[info]oritpetra
Happy All Hallow's Eve Eve.

Came across this today on deviantART and had to share. Zombies and damsels forthewin. Click the link for fullsize and ENJOY.


Dinnertime
by ~oOoSapphireRayoOo on deviantART
Tags:

we're all mad here, loves
[info]oritpetra


Hallowe'en is fast approaching.

So, have an update on my costumes!

I've got a low-key costume for tomorrow as Captain Jamye T. Kirk (I'll get photos of this up tomorrow, once it's all put together).

My main costume, however, is a lolita/steampunk inspired Alice in Wonderland.

If you'd like to see prelimary costume designs and test-run photographs, click here.

Actuals photos will be posted on LJ after Halloween, and hopefully after a much better photo shoot.

SO F-LIST,  WHAT'E YOU'RE HALLOWEEN PLANS? 

Tags: ,

think about this the next time you tell someone to 'fuck off,' eh.
Kirk - Apple
[info]oritpetra
"We don't know the origin of language and never shall, but it is certain today that langauge is more adequately characterised as being neither a free creation of human consciousness nor merely a product of environmental forces acting on the psyche, but rather the instrument of mediation between consciousness and that world that consciousness inhabits." 
- Hayden White, The Fictions of Factual Representation



too young for the blues | (original poetry)
[info]oritpetra
FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE READ THIS AND SEND ME FEEDBACK, PREFERABLY CRITIQUE.

Whew. So, lately I have been feeling like I'm having some sort of intellectual amateur writer's crisis. Basically, that feeling that we all get sometimes that our creative mind actually sucks, and nothing we do translates in anyway to other people. So, if you can, answer me these questions --- What do you take from this? How do you interpret it? Does it evoke any emotion or stimulate any interesting thoughts? What can I do to improve, both in articulating my message and in style/technique?



late for school again;
hands shoved deep into my pockets,
i forgot my gloves;
my feet get wet as damp grass dew
seeps through my unlaced sneakers.

get to main street and the light
won't change.
i shift my weight a few times
and i think about changing the song on my ipod –
i'm too young for the blues, yeah.
  
but i sit it out, i don't hit ||>
the light changes and i cross, shuffling forward
as the song ends, and in the white noise gap
i overhear a private conversation
between two old gray-haired men:

"you're the last tangible thing in this town
to remind me of her."
i imagine scandal, affair; the talk of the town sixty years ago:
love lost in brutality and betrayal
before the aches of age replaced fists with words.

class ends early and i retrace my steps,
but backwards and more slowly,
droning out the congested streets
with music that my father listened to
when he had long hair and an open mind.

the widow next door is in the window again,
wearing scarlet silk and off-white pearls,
gifts from a husband long dead. she makes me nervous.
i think about changing the song on my ipod –
i'm too young for the blues, yeah?
Tags:

you rock me like an echo, echo | hair, art show, hippies, and the like
Rent - No Day But Today
[info]oritpetra


hi loves,

just a quick little entry to let you all know that i do, in fact, continue to live. i am still reading all your lovely entries, comments, and so on -- i just haven't had the time to respond to them as fast/frequently as i normally would.

life has been wonderful as of late. busy as all hell, but wonderful. if you are interested in the details, check out the photos and such that are hanging out under the cut.

 

haircuts, art shows, crows with gun-beaks, funky fabric art, mix tapes, wearable art, hippies, and kittens -- you know you wanna click this, bitches )

the words, they don't come!
Kirk -- Black and White
[info]oritpetra

Blurgh. 

I feel so restless. 

I have the intense desire to be creative. In particular, to write something. I have two WIP fan fictions lying around that I should probably work on. 

BUT I CAN'T. 

I sit down. I stare at the computer screen. I scratch my head. And then I promptly begin to bang my head on the keyboard, hoping that something legible will get mashed out through my thrashing about. 

BAH. 

I have this ridiculous idea for another Kirk/Spock story floating about annoyingly in my head, and tagging along in my imagination, pestering me at inconvenient times. But it involves a massive storyline. Too massive. I will not start another WIP. Especially since I will never finish it. 

And it involves them at the academy too. And totally hot student/teacher relations. And scandal. And epic man-sexin'. And I want for it to exist outside my twisted little brain ever so badly. (If anyone wants to discuss this on MSN/AIM/GTALK with me, I am totally game, btw).

This is what frustrates me the most. I get so hyped about an idea, i know exactly what I want to do with it, and then I never have time, and my interest dies. And my WIP is never finished, and it sits around to collect dust.  

SO, F-LIST -- WRITER'S BLOCK. ANY SUGGESTIONS.
How do you chase it off?
Does it affect you?
Ideas for very short little fics that I could bang off in a few hours?




A Stallion Must First Be Broken (Star Trek) -- Fan Art
Spock - Black and White
[info]oritpetra

So, I opened up my email inbox yesterday and saw what might have been the most exciting email of all time! OF ALL TIME!  (Oh, Kanye).

Someone over on deviantART drew a piece of fan art for me! It's for my series of Trek vignettes, A Stallion Must First Be Broken. It's a scene from Vignette 14. Because vignettes 11-15 are not posted up on LJ yet (and won't be until 15 is finished), I'm going to post 14 below (under the cut).

Below is a thumnail of the art created for me by xNai-Chanx on dA. Please click the thumbnail for a larger version, and if so inclined, comment and/or favourite! Also, her gallery is lovely and certainly worth a look.




vignette 14 under the cut )

and imma let you finish, but...
Kirk - Tribbles
[info]oritpetra

I so love that Kanye's douchebaggery has become an internet meme. And that now the trekkies have also jumped on the bandwagon. 

This was made by arodgers2239 over on dA. Here's the link: LINKY.  

Hope you find it as funny as I did.

i've got my flashy sneaks, my brand new lunch box, and my pencils are sharpened
Kirk - Tribbles
[info]oritpetra


Well, I suppose that this is my first day of class post. I told myself that I wasn't going to do a post for this, but whatever. I had a bitchin' first day, and I feel the need to spew on about it.

So, in a nutshell:
 

7:00 -- alarm goes, hit snooze 800 times before I finally realise that if I don't get up now I will have to go without doing my eye make-up. and this, i do not want. must have awesome eyes for first day. 

7:39 -- get out of bed to realise that it is flippin' cold.  make bee-line for slippers and giant house coat. eat breakie, shower, do makeup (light blue eyeliner on toplash only with a light bronze shimmer powder, lots of mascara; a low key lipstain), get dressed (from bottom up: black chuck taylors, pink leg warmers, grey leggins, purple acid wash mini skirt, pink tank, navy coat, purple paint splattered earrings, black sunglasses with neon paint splatters). yes, i did realise that it was the first day of class, not 80s night. no, i am not mental. yes, i dress like this all the time.

8:45 -- walk to campus with sarah, clara, and danielle. get made fun of because i walk slowish. I CAN'T HELP IT I HAVE STUBBY LEGS, YO. 30 INCH INSEAM, AHEM, (sarah and clara are both almost 6 feet tall)

9:15 -- stained glass studio.

9:25 -- realisation that i literally win at university for taking this course. so. much. fun.

11:30ish -- leave the studio. make note to self to get batman bandaids for the many ouchies that are now on my fingers. stained glass might be fun but it sure as hell shreds your hands up.

12:00 -- get told that i look like a sexy movie star in my outfit. 

12:01 -- almost float up into the sky due to inflated ego.

12:15 or so -- lunch date with leah and shannon. grapes, bagels, and carrots for the lunchtime win. packing a lunch feels so quaint right now. i give that feeling three days before it dissipates entirely. 

12:45 -- pick up X-ring eligibility forum. HOLY FUCK 83 DAYS UNTIL THIS HUNK-A-CHUNK OF BLINGBLANG IS ON MY FINGER:



(for those of you who don't now, the x-ring is my university's ring, and the third most recognized ring in the world apparently. but i mostly just want it 'cause it's shiny).

1:15-nowish -- doctor's appointment (oh god, i have to have my first pap test, oh noes), star trek watching, giant nap of doom, sitting on the roof of my house reading thesis articles, pancakes for supper, and Minesweeper: The Movie.

 

SO F-LIST: SINCE YOU HAVE ALL BEEN LACKING ON THE POSTING LATELY, HOW WAS YOUR FIRST DAY BACK TO CLASS? If you have an entry already, link me to it. If not, leave your experience in the comments! If you're the non-waifish working type, you can post a memorable first day of work or something along those lines. Send me your days, I say! 
 



and she dreams about movies they won't make of her when she's dead
Spock - Douchebaggery
[info]oritpetra


Fuck, man. I don't usually enjoying puffing up my own feathers, but shite, I looked freakin' hot when I rolled onto campus today to meet my thesis advisor:


Apparently, I got eaten by the 1980s this morning. Which is good times since that's pretty much the best decade of life. Except for maybe the 1960s.

Such a good day. Last real day of freedom, and the sun is shining in this dingy old town. Possibly out of my ass, heh. No, no -- I keed, I keed.

The thesis meeting went well. I've known my advisor for three years and he is pretty much the hippest prof in the department. I mean, he has long-ass hippie hair, wears sweater vests like it's 1934, used to play in a heavy metal band in the 80s, and listens to bands like the artic monkeys. Is there anything better than that. So needless to say the meeting was pretty chill. A deadline here, a deadline there. Apparently I am quite a bit ahead of the game: he basically approved my topic today, something that doesn't actually have to be done until the 30th. Cool beans, I say.

And of course, classes start up tomorrow. I am stoked and also very not stoked. My only class tomorrow is an art studio (stained glass) so that sould be rockin'. In general my courses are pretty easy, simply because last year (my 3rd year) I took almost all the 300 and 400 level courses I need. So my classes this semester are:

History 445, Senior Seminar in Historiography -- with a totally stellar and not at all lame prof I might add.
German 100 -- hells yes, an intro language course for the win.
World Politics 250 -- blarg, but should be easy (hopefully not frustratingly so).
Stained Glass, Intro I -- fuck yeah. I am stoked for this, bitches.
and of course: my thesis, which counts as 6 credits.

So all in all it should be a good semester.

I also cleaned my room for I could share its loveliness with you all:


 

It pays to have a brother with a taste for interior design and a whole bunch of free shit to give to his little sisters.

Off to wing night and general asshattery and fun now.

Love and hugs.

EDIT: first wing night of the year = major success. drunken celtic dancing and rickards white draft for the win.
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