A very long stream of consciousness
Sep. 6th, 2005 05:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarigwaemirBlair Hall Apts., on the Feast of the Blessed Bertrand
Went to the dermatologist today and ended up spending the most painful five minutes of my life trying not to wince as she, um, poked at my face with a needle and some sort of pincers. Ouch. The equivalent of someone very tiny and malicious walking all over your face while wearing a pair of sharp stiletto heels. O_O I normally don't give a fig about my appearance and actively cultivate a plain, unadorned look, but at the beginning of the summer, when I was home for about a week, every single person I met at church commented on my acne. I think I might have been in the middle of a breakout at the time, due to stress from finals and whatnot. Anyway, the experience annoyed me, to say the least, and annoyed my mother, which is probably the more relevant point since it provoked her to schedule an appointment with the dermatologist as soon as I got back from Cambridge. >_< I went last week and received prescriptions for two, yes two, gels and an oral antibiotic; I went again today to undergo the abovementioned facial torture. I hope all this fuss is worth it because my skin's been having a bit of trouble adjusting to the medication and currently looks worse than it ever did with just a scattering of pimples and scars to mar it. (I.e. I've been going around with red, dry irritated patches around my eyes and mouth. Doctor's response: here, use lotion. -_-)
By the way, in case you were curious, I went to Mass at the same church this Sunday, and this time, everyone managed to make some comment about how I'd lost weight. I'm sure that might sound flattering in English, but in Korean, it's more along the lines of "Oh, how unhealthy you look!" It's my fault, I suppose, for not eating regularly. >_< I never used to hear these quips about my appearance when I was younger--instead I received bizarre compliments about the shape of the back of my head (I kid you not)--but I guess it would be asking too much to escape the critique forever. My mother complains that being twitted about her looks gave her a permanent complex (people called her "pig lips" on account of her full mouth, prone to pouting). It's all done with the utmost affection of course but still one can't help feeling annoyed.
Parents bought me Herodotus and a collection of Chekhov's short stories yesterday as an early birthday present. Father also got me an extra hard drive (Labor Day sales are wonderful; 160 GB for only $50 after rebates) but it's not yet installed on account of a short cable. My birthday is still a couple of weeks away, but of course, by then, I'll be off at school. Originally, I'd asked for a complete collection of Ibsen's plays, but it seems that the B&N doesn't possess such a volume. You see, in one of my visits to the Coop over the summer, I'd stumbled across the drama section and I suddenly felt an intense nostalgia for those two months in high school (was I in ninth or tenth grade?) when I read every play of Ibsen that I could get my hands on. This binge culminated in Peer Gynt, which remains my favorite of his works despite the awkwardly translated verse. Actually, the very first time I read Ibsen was when I picked up Hedda Gabler way back in sixth grade because the title had come up as the solution to a Final Jeopardy clue, and I remember I had plowed through the play with absolutely no clue what was really going on. I reread the play during the two-month binge, of course, and understood it better, although at that point, all the plays were beginning to merge into a sort of Ibsen continuum. When you read so much of an author's works in so little a time span, there's a point where you begin to remember each individual opus in terms of how they relate to one another rather than what distinguishes them as unique. I've carried this vague diffuse blob of "what Ibsen meant to me" in the dusty shelves of my brain somewhere, but very few discrete blobs for "what The Master Builder meant" or "what The Wild Duck meant", if that makes any sense.
The exceptions being Peer Gynt and, once again, Hedda Gabler (and perhaps A Doll's House, simply because it's so often referenced).![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ldmoonflower and I went to see a performance of Hedda Gabler on Broadway our senior year in high school, thus according it a special status in my head as the only Ibsen play I've actually seen on stage. A lot of the black humor that I missed in Hedda's lines while merely reading the script came through in the actress' performance--there was a lot of uncomfortable laughter from the audience, I recall, although until that point I had never found any line in the play to be funny. Really, another reminder that one ought to see a play or at least hear it in order to properly appreciate it. I've just finished rereading Hedda Gabler this morning (along with A Doll's House and Ghosts), as a recompense for the failure to obtain a complete collection yesterday, and it strikes me how much I missed in my first or second readings of these plays because I had forgotten that they were plays, meant to be performed not read silently. An example: on stage, the audience is very aware that the action of the play takes place entirely in one room (actually, most of Ibsen's plays occur all in one setting), and this simple detail reinforces Hedda's claustrophobia, the unbearable boredom and frustration as she can only imagine the life she lusts for through the secondhand stories of the men she tries to control. A really small point, to be sure, but I had no sense of that until I had seen the play performed.
Anyway, I remembered all over again just why I'd spent those two months reading (nearly) no one else. There's a suppressed intensity, a silent explosion if you will, in the unfurling of Ibsen's plays. Oscar Alving saying, over and over again, "The sun...the sun..." at the end of Ghosts--enough to make you shiver. Ibsen made me fascinated with the ins and outs of suffering, the ways in which people trap themselves and are trapped by the people around them. All those different faces, all wearing this expression of half-hidden unhappiness--I know it sounds awfully depressing, but strangely, I thought it almost noble because it was so human. Maybe that's why I liked Arthur Miller's The Death of a Salesman as well.lush_rimbaud and I argued about this play for hours, once, and I think, in retrospect, that the difference in our viewpoints was more than simply philosophical: those two months of Ibsen had made me able to read Miller and feel sympathy rather than contempt for Willy Loman.
I read Chekhov in the same year, I believe, which is probably why I substituted him for the Ibsen. I read his plays first, but his short stories impressed me more. I remember I wrote a quote from "Gooseberries" on the cover of my French book: how every happy, contented man ought to have a man with a hammer at his door to remind him that not everyone is as happy and contented as he is, to paraphrase it loosely.
Alas, I fear the Herodotus is going to spend a year on my shelf, lonely and abandoned, before I even attempt to read it. I used to believe that I would end up reading all these important classics of Western literature in college, but being a science concentrator, the only real heavyweight I've managed to read so far is The Aeneid, thanks to the Rome of Augustus course I took freshman year. (The Charlemagne course I took last semester occupied itself mostly with letters and polytychs, while the Gothic Fiction course I took for expository writing gave us Poe and Radcliffe and Austen.) When am I ever going to read Thucydides and Plato and Aristotle? $40,000 a year for this college education, and I still feel horribly uneducated! Let's hope the Moral Reasoning Core requirement will rectify the situation a little.
By the way, I still haven't gotten rid of my "start more books than I finish" syndrome. -_- Over the past week and a half, I've read: three-quarters of the first volume in the manhwa series Damo (which was made into an MBC historical drama of the same name a few years ago), half of Gaudy Night (while at B&N yesterday), bits and pieces of Baudelaire, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (I was nostalgic! >_<), the abovementioned three Ibsen plays, and Five Red Herrings (which I finally finished after considerable dawdling). Damo is really difficult to read because it uses archaic language (well, archaic by my standards, anyway). There were at least fifteen pages where the dialogue was going by me in a total blur--about all that I could deduce was that they were dealing with a case of counterfeit money--and I felt incredibly dumb for only understanding one word out of ten. >_< Mother wasn't around at that point to be pestered with questions. She was around later, when I was reading a scene where Chae-ok and Hwang-what's-his-name were sparring, and the fight was compared to "making love" in the most unsubtle metaphors ever. (Okay, I know absolutely no Korean words having to do with sex. Zilch. Because my mother still blushes when she says the word "sex" in English. She's actually told me once what the Korean verb was once, but I forgot it. Anyway, when even I can tell that a writer is comparing something to sex, you realize it's pretty blatant.) Anyway, I was reading through this fight scene, feeling rather unimpressed with the figurative language (I mean, if you're describing an action scene, just describe it; don't waste all your time talking about how his attack was like a lover's caress to her whatever), and I came across a word I didn't know. So I asked Mother, who was sitting next to me at the time, and she froze and looked vaguely horrified. She asked me what sort of context I would come across that, and I showed her the sentence. She told me, very embarrassedly, that it meant something like "contact between two bodies", and while it probably does mean exactly that, I bet there's some sort of association that I'm missing. The conviction further reinforced by the fact that the next word I didn't know in the sentence turned out to translate roughly to "lust". Hahaha. The sad thing is, I don't even remember the words anymore. New Korean vocabulary only enters my head after repeated mental hammering, unless it's based on hanja, in which case I do a better job of remembering because my memory likes etymological mnemonics.
...I also wanted to tell you about the four consecutive nightmares I had a few nights ago (the last two were about kendo practices), the delicious T-bone steak I ate at an Argentinian restaurant on Sunday, my not-so-favorable impressions of Baudelaire (who is such a teenager, at least in his early poems), and the current crisis in my family due to the sudden disappearance of the local Korean channel (it got sold to some sort of Christian group; as a result my parents are completely bored and are contemplating getting cable). But really, that would be way too much for one post, even for someone as verbose as me.
(Note to the friends list: until now, I haven't cut posts unless they (1) sound excessively personal or neurotic, (2) contain fic, memes or photos, (3) mention spoilers. Nonetheless, I've heard privately from one or two real-life friends that my habit of writing rambling and incomprehensible entries without the mercy of an LJ-CUT is a bit annoying...hence I broke with tradition and put the bulk of this post behind a cut. Should I continue doing that or do most of you not mind? Maybe I ought to make a poll. O_O)
Yours &c.
Post-script:schwimmerin, I got your postcard from Hamburg today! ^_^ Also, er, I realize I haven't done the five songs meme you tagged me for yet, but I thought I should save it until I'm back on my computer again (when I'm at home, I update from Father's laptop, much to his disgruntlement).
Went to the dermatologist today and ended up spending the most painful five minutes of my life trying not to wince as she, um, poked at my face with a needle and some sort of pincers. Ouch. The equivalent of someone very tiny and malicious walking all over your face while wearing a pair of sharp stiletto heels. O_O I normally don't give a fig about my appearance and actively cultivate a plain, unadorned look, but at the beginning of the summer, when I was home for about a week, every single person I met at church commented on my acne. I think I might have been in the middle of a breakout at the time, due to stress from finals and whatnot. Anyway, the experience annoyed me, to say the least, and annoyed my mother, which is probably the more relevant point since it provoked her to schedule an appointment with the dermatologist as soon as I got back from Cambridge. >_< I went last week and received prescriptions for two, yes two, gels and an oral antibiotic; I went again today to undergo the abovementioned facial torture. I hope all this fuss is worth it because my skin's been having a bit of trouble adjusting to the medication and currently looks worse than it ever did with just a scattering of pimples and scars to mar it. (I.e. I've been going around with red, dry irritated patches around my eyes and mouth. Doctor's response: here, use lotion. -_-)
By the way, in case you were curious, I went to Mass at the same church this Sunday, and this time, everyone managed to make some comment about how I'd lost weight. I'm sure that might sound flattering in English, but in Korean, it's more along the lines of "Oh, how unhealthy you look!" It's my fault, I suppose, for not eating regularly. >_< I never used to hear these quips about my appearance when I was younger--instead I received bizarre compliments about the shape of the back of my head (I kid you not)--but I guess it would be asking too much to escape the critique forever. My mother complains that being twitted about her looks gave her a permanent complex (people called her "pig lips" on account of her full mouth, prone to pouting). It's all done with the utmost affection of course but still one can't help feeling annoyed.
Parents bought me Herodotus and a collection of Chekhov's short stories yesterday as an early birthday present. Father also got me an extra hard drive (Labor Day sales are wonderful; 160 GB for only $50 after rebates) but it's not yet installed on account of a short cable. My birthday is still a couple of weeks away, but of course, by then, I'll be off at school. Originally, I'd asked for a complete collection of Ibsen's plays, but it seems that the B&N doesn't possess such a volume. You see, in one of my visits to the Coop over the summer, I'd stumbled across the drama section and I suddenly felt an intense nostalgia for those two months in high school (was I in ninth or tenth grade?) when I read every play of Ibsen that I could get my hands on. This binge culminated in Peer Gynt, which remains my favorite of his works despite the awkwardly translated verse. Actually, the very first time I read Ibsen was when I picked up Hedda Gabler way back in sixth grade because the title had come up as the solution to a Final Jeopardy clue, and I remember I had plowed through the play with absolutely no clue what was really going on. I reread the play during the two-month binge, of course, and understood it better, although at that point, all the plays were beginning to merge into a sort of Ibsen continuum. When you read so much of an author's works in so little a time span, there's a point where you begin to remember each individual opus in terms of how they relate to one another rather than what distinguishes them as unique. I've carried this vague diffuse blob of "what Ibsen meant to me" in the dusty shelves of my brain somewhere, but very few discrete blobs for "what The Master Builder meant" or "what The Wild Duck meant", if that makes any sense.
The exceptions being Peer Gynt and, once again, Hedda Gabler (and perhaps A Doll's House, simply because it's so often referenced).
ldmoonflower and I went to see a performance of Hedda Gabler on Broadway our senior year in high school, thus according it a special status in my head as the only Ibsen play I've actually seen on stage. A lot of the black humor that I missed in Hedda's lines while merely reading the script came through in the actress' performance--there was a lot of uncomfortable laughter from the audience, I recall, although until that point I had never found any line in the play to be funny. Really, another reminder that one ought to see a play or at least hear it in order to properly appreciate it. I've just finished rereading Hedda Gabler this morning (along with A Doll's House and Ghosts), as a recompense for the failure to obtain a complete collection yesterday, and it strikes me how much I missed in my first or second readings of these plays because I had forgotten that they were plays, meant to be performed not read silently. An example: on stage, the audience is very aware that the action of the play takes place entirely in one room (actually, most of Ibsen's plays occur all in one setting), and this simple detail reinforces Hedda's claustrophobia, the unbearable boredom and frustration as she can only imagine the life she lusts for through the secondhand stories of the men she tries to control. A really small point, to be sure, but I had no sense of that until I had seen the play performed.Anyway, I remembered all over again just why I'd spent those two months reading (nearly) no one else. There's a suppressed intensity, a silent explosion if you will, in the unfurling of Ibsen's plays. Oscar Alving saying, over and over again, "The sun...the sun..." at the end of Ghosts--enough to make you shiver. Ibsen made me fascinated with the ins and outs of suffering, the ways in which people trap themselves and are trapped by the people around them. All those different faces, all wearing this expression of half-hidden unhappiness--I know it sounds awfully depressing, but strangely, I thought it almost noble because it was so human. Maybe that's why I liked Arthur Miller's The Death of a Salesman as well.
lush_rimbaud and I argued about this play for hours, once, and I think, in retrospect, that the difference in our viewpoints was more than simply philosophical: those two months of Ibsen had made me able to read Miller and feel sympathy rather than contempt for Willy Loman.I read Chekhov in the same year, I believe, which is probably why I substituted him for the Ibsen. I read his plays first, but his short stories impressed me more. I remember I wrote a quote from "Gooseberries" on the cover of my French book: how every happy, contented man ought to have a man with a hammer at his door to remind him that not everyone is as happy and contented as he is, to paraphrase it loosely.
Alas, I fear the Herodotus is going to spend a year on my shelf, lonely and abandoned, before I even attempt to read it. I used to believe that I would end up reading all these important classics of Western literature in college, but being a science concentrator, the only real heavyweight I've managed to read so far is The Aeneid, thanks to the Rome of Augustus course I took freshman year. (The Charlemagne course I took last semester occupied itself mostly with letters and polytychs, while the Gothic Fiction course I took for expository writing gave us Poe and Radcliffe and Austen.) When am I ever going to read Thucydides and Plato and Aristotle? $40,000 a year for this college education, and I still feel horribly uneducated! Let's hope the Moral Reasoning Core requirement will rectify the situation a little.
By the way, I still haven't gotten rid of my "start more books than I finish" syndrome. -_- Over the past week and a half, I've read: three-quarters of the first volume in the manhwa series Damo (which was made into an MBC historical drama of the same name a few years ago), half of Gaudy Night (while at B&N yesterday), bits and pieces of Baudelaire, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (I was nostalgic! >_<), the abovementioned three Ibsen plays, and Five Red Herrings (which I finally finished after considerable dawdling). Damo is really difficult to read because it uses archaic language (well, archaic by my standards, anyway). There were at least fifteen pages where the dialogue was going by me in a total blur--about all that I could deduce was that they were dealing with a case of counterfeit money--and I felt incredibly dumb for only understanding one word out of ten. >_< Mother wasn't around at that point to be pestered with questions. She was around later, when I was reading a scene where Chae-ok and Hwang-what's-his-name were sparring, and the fight was compared to "making love" in the most unsubtle metaphors ever. (Okay, I know absolutely no Korean words having to do with sex. Zilch. Because my mother still blushes when she says the word "sex" in English. She's actually told me once what the Korean verb was once, but I forgot it. Anyway, when even I can tell that a writer is comparing something to sex, you realize it's pretty blatant.) Anyway, I was reading through this fight scene, feeling rather unimpressed with the figurative language (I mean, if you're describing an action scene, just describe it; don't waste all your time talking about how his attack was like a lover's caress to her whatever), and I came across a word I didn't know. So I asked Mother, who was sitting next to me at the time, and she froze and looked vaguely horrified. She asked me what sort of context I would come across that, and I showed her the sentence. She told me, very embarrassedly, that it meant something like "contact between two bodies", and while it probably does mean exactly that, I bet there's some sort of association that I'm missing. The conviction further reinforced by the fact that the next word I didn't know in the sentence turned out to translate roughly to "lust". Hahaha. The sad thing is, I don't even remember the words anymore. New Korean vocabulary only enters my head after repeated mental hammering, unless it's based on hanja, in which case I do a better job of remembering because my memory likes etymological mnemonics.
...I also wanted to tell you about the four consecutive nightmares I had a few nights ago (the last two were about kendo practices), the delicious T-bone steak I ate at an Argentinian restaurant on Sunday, my not-so-favorable impressions of Baudelaire (who is such a teenager, at least in his early poems), and the current crisis in my family due to the sudden disappearance of the local Korean channel (it got sold to some sort of Christian group; as a result my parents are completely bored and are contemplating getting cable). But really, that would be way too much for one post, even for someone as verbose as me.
(Note to the friends list: until now, I haven't cut posts unless they (1) sound excessively personal or neurotic, (2) contain fic, memes or photos, (3) mention spoilers. Nonetheless, I've heard privately from one or two real-life friends that my habit of writing rambling and incomprehensible entries without the mercy of an LJ-CUT is a bit annoying...hence I broke with tradition and put the bulk of this post behind a cut. Should I continue doing that or do most of you not mind? Maybe I ought to make a poll. O_O)
Yours &c.
Post-script:
schwimmerin, I got your postcard from Hamburg today! ^_^ Also, er, I realize I haven't done the five songs meme you tagged me for yet, but I thought I should save it until I'm back on my computer again (when I'm at home, I update from Father's laptop, much to his disgruntlement).
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-06 10:51 pm (UTC)I thought that the Five Red Herrings was the weakest one in the series. Or I just really hate timetable mysteries.
Hmm, I didn't know that Damo was based on a manwha. Is the plot the same? (well, not that I could ever read it, but I'm always curious about what is lost in dramatization).
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:10 pm (UTC)Oh good, so I'm not the only one to find Five Red Herrings rather dull. -_- I couldn't handle all the infodump, so it took me a while to finish.
Re: Damo, well, so far the plot is roughly the same, but there's a lot more background for the two "lower-class comic relief" characters (who actually aren't all that funny in the manhwa). The manhwaga also doesn't begin with the ending like the drama did.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 05:37 pm (UTC)I don't know if they were that funny, especially how that all ended out. 0_o So the ending is the same? (How is the art? Is there a page that has some samples?)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 05:57 pm (UTC)The art is pretty different from most manga I've seen...Google Image offers a sample page here, although it's pretty small.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 07:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-08 02:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-08 05:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-09 02:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 12:37 am (UTC)Where are Gaudy Night and Five Red Herring from? They sound incredibly familiar. Are they mystery novels by Dorothy L Sayers or am I way off? ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:12 pm (UTC)Yup, Gaudy Night and Five Red Herrings are both Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries. XD
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 08:27 pm (UTC)Lord Peter Wimsey, I thought so but I wasn't sure. I've read all the short stories but I haven't read any of the longer ones because I have the bad habit of flipping to the end if the book doesn't hold my interest. That's why I prefer short stories for the mystery genere. Have you read anything by Agatha Christie? She's probably my favorite mystery author - I adore Holmes but the writing isn't as engaging as Christie's works
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-08 02:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 01:55 am (UTC)I used to be a stickler for the flist cuts, but as you can see, I'm quite an offender myself. I've asked my friends (RL and online) to use the LJ cut in the past and their reasoning for it is that if it's worth saying then it isn't worth hiding behind a cut. YMMV. Nowadays I usually just switch long entries into individual view.
Five Red Herrings is kind of dull. And I wouldn't worry about reading the classics--you have the rest of your life for that, but I do miss the hardcore discussion and the sense of fully looking at texts from so many different points of view that comes out of reading texts for class. The only reason I read any classics at all is because I had a development of civilization gen-ed course in my freshman year. Heck, I was a history major AND a cinema studies major who focused on the colonial experience--and I still haven't finished Edward Said's Orientalism.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:19 pm (UTC)Yes, I guess I'm just annoyed because I always had this image of college as the place where you end up reading all those weighty tomes of Western literature and come out all educated and prepared to quote at the drop of a hat (of course, I have no memory for quotes but nonetheless one can wish). Also I get the sinking feeling that there are certain books that I'll never, ever read on my own, like Thoreau's Walden or Kant. ^_^;; Ah well, I suppose I can't expect everything to be handed to me on a platter...
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-13 08:25 am (UTC)Probably because when I was growing up, my parents disapproved of reading for pleasure, for fear that it would get in the way of grades-chasing. When I became a teenager and finally gained access to the public library, it was extremely empowering to choose what I wanted to read, and I read lots of stuff without realizing they were classics or important. Then again, I also read lots of trashy romances and the like, so I guess it all evens out. ^^
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 02:00 am (UTC)and if being called thin is bad in Korean culture, I obviously am the wrong kind of Azn.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:22 pm (UTC)It's not so much that they call you thin as they call you skinny (the verb used is also the same verb used to describe dried-up things). >_< ::sighs:: I like to think I have pretty good self-esteem about my appearance, but nonetheless, comments are annoying. -_-
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 02:15 am (UTC)As for LJ-cuts, it's your journal and up to you. I usually don't post cuts on account of length because I like being able to see everything on my LJ without clicking cuts. If your entries are long and people don't want to read them, that's what the scrolly button is for.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:27 pm (UTC)Yes, that was my reason for not using cuts before--I wanted to read through everything in my LJ continuously--but I kept wondering if I was being inconsiderate. ^_^;;
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 02:28 am (UTC)Also -- I totally know how that goes with the dermatologists. I hate it. Plus, it doesn't appear to do anything for me.
My mother is currently rehearsing the onion scene from Peer Gynt for one of her five (5!!!!) Scandinavian courses this fall. By currently, I mean as I am typing this comment.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:29 pm (UTC)Augh, my face was swollen all day after the dermatologist ordeal. ;_;
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:27 am (UTC)ooh, i've heard about the stabby approach to acne, although i've always gone for the medicinal one myself. i've been on...everything, haha. my first gasshuku i was on accutane, and my contact lenses hurt constantly, my skin was dry (the men didn't help) and my lips were all flaky and red and nasty...i had like rondald mcdonald mouth. and mr. mori was like, "uh, you've got a little something on y our mouth..." very embarrassing. but TOTALLY worth it. hehe. highly recommend moisturizer...i use one called purpose that is not at all greasy or oily and quite good.
hopefully i will see you in the next few days :D
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:32 pm (UTC)I've been given two gels, and one of them stings terribly. ::sighs:: I hope they work; otherwise all the pain will have been for nothing. By the way, I would never have believed that you had acne--your face looks completely clear. O_O (Maybe there's hope for me yet? XD)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 09:15 am (UTC)Hm, I got the same remarks as you did. One or two of my entries can be really long and some of my friends have moaned that it should be placed under a cut.
I used to reason that it's MY lj and I should be able to do whatever I want with it, but I guess in the end, we also want to make things convenient for our friends. And proper friends would want to read what you have to say, cut or not.
I don't know. I'm still rather iffy on this issue but after that, I've taken the flist into consideration a bit more and have therefore placed cuts on the longer ramblings.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-09-07 04:34 pm (UTC)