The Idea Came Too Late

So not too long ago I sent off an application for grad school because why the hell not, and among my linguistics credentials I explained about my conlanging hobby and that I've learned a lot.

Only today does it occur to me that I should've SENT them an outline of one of my conlangs.

Oh, well. Maybe next time.

When You Come Home Late The Doll Is Waiting Up For You

I kind of love Facebook’s advertisement algorithm. It comes up with the silliest associations based on what I say I like, and it’s always just slightly off-base, like a funhouse mirror of what my interests are.*

Like when I say I like American Girl dolls, Facebook decides I like DOLLS! ALL THE DOLLS! and keeps flinging doll ads at me. So I get ads for bullshit Toys R Us dolls and Monster High dolls and emo ball-jointed dolls and Remember The Good Old Days When Golden-Haired Children With Haphazard Teeth Screwed Up Their Faces And Cried While Wearing What Appears To Be A Layer Cake porcelain dolls, none of which interest me in the least.

But it’s all cool because the ads are entertaining, until out of nowhere they advertise a doll that will SCARE THE HELL OUT OF YOU.

Good god with ketchup. The only way I’d buy that doll is if they included a solid black option for the eyes—then I’d pop off the wig, airbrush the whole doll grey, and pose her outside the windows of UFO conspiracy theorists. But other than that, Facebook, no more creepy dolls, please.

Seriously. YOUR SOUL BELONGS TO THE DOLLS NOW


*It’s not quite as confused as Netflix, which still thinks I’m a precocious and ghoulish six-year-old boy—a whole different way of entertainment.

(no subject)

Just changed my comment pages to look like the rest of my journal. Grudgingly. I like the stark default LJ comment pages, but it's gotten too obnoxious to try to pick icons with that new interface that does not match the Icon Map I have in my head. MY LIFE IS SO INCONVENIENT. Let's see if this change helps.