the tree is also 'prelit' - meaning that yes, it has lights on it, but noooooo, you can't access the bleeding cord you're supposed to plug into the wall because it's three inches long and located half-way up the bloody 'spine' of the tree. argh. i loathe going to wal-mart and now i have to go back, yet again, fight my way through all of the last-minute christmas havoc and get a bloody extension cord. oh, and after i get the extension cord, i have to fight with the tree again to see if i can find the bleeding thing i'm supposed to plug it into. ah. bah humbug and stuff.
on the merrier side of the christmas season, got the mri and found out that my brain isn't going to explode. it's like the best present ever... and no one even had to wrap it.
happy holidays... may they be truly merry and bright.
i do have to say that i am most pleased that the kind people at the mri place decided to give me an afternoon appointment, given that i'm not a particularly pleasant person at the ass-crack of dawn, much less at the ass-crack of dawn on what is supposed to be my winter vacation.
i actually read the pamphlet they give you in the waiting room while i was - umm, yeah - waiting... i found out that i could have a 'friend or loved one' accompany me in the room while i'm put in a tube. this sounds all swell and dandy, but i know my friends - and love them, mind you, with all my black little heart - and my friends would taunt me, make fun of me, tickle my feet, take strange pictures [i don't even know if that's allowed, but you get my drift anyway]... basically torture me in any way possible for an hour. might make things more interesting, but seeing as i have a case of ants-in-my-pants as is... i think i'll forgo that privilege for the present.
i kinda wanna cry.
planned activities: being as anti-social as humanly possible until 12pm on tuesday, december 06, 2005, when i will be done with critiques and will proceed to polish off an entire bottle of champagne all by myself and then sleep for a week solid. yes. oh yes. it will be a glorious day. i might even do a little dance. who knows? champagne and lack of sleep can make a girl do some crazy stuff...
2] talked to my parental units yesterday afternoon... apparently my mother has broken her wrist. apparently, this is no big deal to her at all. apparently, she is not in a cast yet, nor is she on any sort of pain-killer... and apparently this doesn't bother her either. my mother is superwoman. um hmm. she is.
3] been thinking about this whole 'fate' business... while i like to think i'm at least somewhat in control of my own existence, i do find it rather amusing to think about three witchy women around a looking glass, pulling my strings this way and that; placing things in my way; showing me signs and such... i mean, it's kind of comforting to think that there is some sort of plan that - while malleable - is leading me through this strange, soupy life i am living...
4] 377.5 hours and counting... holy mother of god, i have a shit-tonne of work to do...
1] paul simon - graceland
2] tom petty and the heartbreakers - greatest hits
3] abba - gold
4] elvis presley - aloha from hawaii
5] elvis presely - blue hawaii soundtrack
6] fleetwood mac - greatest hits
7] neil diamond - reverend bluejeans
8] everly brothers - the very best of the everly brothers
9] miles davis - kind of blue
10] johnny cash - the sun years
11] roy orbison - oldies
12] andy williams - moon river
13] frank sinatra - the sinatra christmas album
14] emmilou harris - duets
15] the carpenters - singles 1969 - 1981
i can't really explain why i've been thinking about these albums so much lately... i guess it's just the music that flows through my mind most of the time - the kind of benevolent ghost that will follow me for the rest of my life. i know now how fortunate i am to have parents with exquisite taste in music [thanks, mom and dad] ... i had an appreciation for great music instilled in me at a very young age... my dad once told me that you remember your life through music - it has the power to conjure up memories, feelings and people long since forgotten. i whole-heartedly agree... music is my world... i guess i'm lucky i have a solid foundation...
... must be productive... have a shit-tonne of drawings and model-things to do before monday morning. i have also reaffirmed that the concept of the 'weekend' is non-existent in architecture school... kind of sad, really, because i do so love to have the option of doing absolutely nothing for a couple of days in each week... c'est la vie... i only have three more weeks of studio... EVER.
i did find it interesting to realize how small everything seems inside chucky cheese's now... when i was a kid, everything seemed simply gigantic and flashy and overwhelming. now, it just seems slightly run-down and full of really tiny little games. even the ski-ball contraptions seemed to be on a miniature scale. this is rather significant to me, given that i am somewhat vertically challenged [commonly called a 'midget' even though i stand at the rather average height (for a girl) of 5'-4"] and most things and people tower over me... all this has led me to believe that the world is slowly shrinking [probably another side-effect of global warming and such] and that chucky cheese's is the first place where the results of said shrinking are beginning to register. you'll see - by march, the eiffel tower will stand no higher than my waist. just wait... it'll happen.
that's the other thing: i actually felt bad for being angry... and i have every bleeding right to be angry that someone i consider a fairly good friend would flat-out lie to me. not once, mind you. many, many times. i think, most of all, i feel disrespected... maybe even slightly humiliated... i suppose that i just have to accept that people can be bastards and then move on... because i'm done being a fucking doormat. done.
i have this new personal theory that the upstairs computer lab in vol walker hall is an energy-sucking-vortex and that autocad [aka satan reincarnate] is working in league with this vortex to make sure that i have absolutely no inspiration or motivation or drive, etc. it's a bloody conspiracy, i tell you. someone must put an end to it... i'd be that person - it would probably be best if i was that person, considering that it's my problem and whatnot - but i haven't the time [notice a theme here? lack of time, maybe? ...could be]... anyone up for the job? i pay in the form of substantial amounts of alcoholic beverages and home-cooked meals... tempting? damn right, it's tempting.
you know you want to... all the cool kids are doing it. [how's that for peer pressure?]
and now... holding my breath until tomorrow night and back to CAD.
on another note - i honestly believe that some people just shouldn't be allowed to get tattoos. these people fit into one of the following categories: 1] the ones that walk into ye olde tattoo shoppe and walk directly to the wall covered in ye olde standard dumb-fuck tattoos and/or catalogue and pick out some random image that holds no personal meaning and often fits into the realm of the retarded and cheesy. 2] the ones that walk into said tattoo shoppe [yes, the extra 'p' and the 'e' are intentional... i do know how to spell shop... thank. you. very. much.] and proceed to be drunk and bitchy to the artist behind the counter while aforementioned artist is currently working on someone else's body art. gaffaw. 3] the ones that walk in and ask for 'a four-leaf clover that's unique' or some other analogous nonsense and then proceed to scurry over to the 'wall'. yeah, sweetheart. real unique. 4] the ones that walk into the 'shoppe' ten minutes before closing time and demand a tattoo.
hint: don't mess with and/or be rude, inconsiderate, condescending, patronizing, etc. to the people who do the following: a] serve you food. - spit and other things can be easily disguised as 'special' little additions to your favorite dish. yep. uh huh. they can. b] keep you from dying [doctors and such]. - there are some pretty scary diseases out there and if you get one, you'll want to have the knowledge that you haven't done anything to make said doctor-person wish you ill will. c] people who will be prodding your body with needles repeatedly to leave a very permanent image or hole. - you never want to hear 'oops,' 'aw shit,' 'well, maybe no one will notice' kind of things or sniggers from people in the tattoo shoppe. it normally doesn't forebode well...
it's just common sense... the people with the power and potential to punish you for not being descent, compassionate, considerate human beings should not be screwed with...
ok, i'm going to 'do work' now... or something. over and out.
one could have bought tickets beforehand, but i'm poor and i didn't have the money to do so until it was too late. and then i get to the show more than an hour early and they sell out... and now i get to sit here and think about how i could be there... and it makes me sad... stupid, yes, i know... but sad nonetheless.
i got a new tattoo on friday night, 'small but tasteful' ... like my friend said, it's so much better than therapy... and so much cheaper than a shrink. i felt kind of bad, because it only took five minutes to actually do the tattoo and it took robbie more time to clean up afterwards... c'est la vie, i suppose.
as is to be expected, my life is otherwise sickeningly boring, because i am constantly at school or [less often] sleeping... but on tuesday, one of my favoritest bands ever - built to spill - is coming here... oh yes... and i will be up there for the concert, even if i have to sacrifice eating time on tuesday for it [because we have a crit with a guest critic on wednesday...].
advice to close - if you have to be up all night drawing or something of the sort - if you value your sanity and don't wish to have freakish scary nightmares - don't listen to pink floyd's the wall on repeat. just don't. the results aren't pretty... just trust me on this one.
so, just back from a quick site visit to marfa, texas. lovely little town in the middle of nowhere, texas. home of the chinati foundation - the large compound of permanent art installations started by donald judd... really wonderful stuff. saw the marfa lights... and accidentally ended up watching an absolutely beautiful lunar eclipse. went to ojinaga, mexico for dinner and tequila. went to the mcdonald's observatory to look at billions upon billions of stars and clusters and nebulae and the moon through gigantic telescopes... [but i'm a geek, so this kind of stuff is incredibly exciting to me]. went to big bend to draw in the blistering sun... got to see an amazing thunderstorm in the big bend basin... an enormous peek amid a very large valley; very dramatic, very beautiful. listened to ridiculous amounts of funk [as if there is such a thing] on the many drives through the desert...
we got to drive from fayetteville, ar to tulsa, ok at 3:30 in the morning in order to catch a 6 am flight. suck. yes, i'm a night owl... no, 3:30 isn't an incredibly strange time for me on a normal basis. however, 3:30am after two days of no sleep whatsoever... not cool. not cool at all. particularly when you plan to catch up on sleep on the short flights and people keep talking to you. again, not cool.
anywho... i have lots of photos and as soon as i can figure out how in the bloody hell to operate this stinking contraption that will let me share my pretty pictures with you, i will have some of them posted... for the time being, back to playing with sharp objects under the influence of something i can't remember the name of. cheers.
my friend asked me how long i thought it would be before everyone simply forgot about everything that's happened and is happening on the gulf coast. how long it would be before people put the atrocities and misery and pain and destruction out of their minds. it's really very simple - people will remember until something bigger, more terrible and more 'press-worthy' comes along. because we have no foreign enemy, and nothing but our own ineptitude as a national body to blame, it won't be long before our attentions are diverted elsewhere. until those in power are directly effected, until their homes are fifteen feet under a stinking, infectious, toxic stew; until their parents, children, husbands and wives, friends and loved ones are missing without a trace; until they are trapped amongst rapists and murderers with no possible escape; until they have lost absolutely everything - any semblance of a normal life... until that happens, our attentions will be diverted elsewhere... to things less grim and - frankly - embarrassing.
yes. it is absolutely shameful that our organizing bodies - the people who actually have the power to do something, the people who have the bloody responsibility to do something - let tens of thousands of people sit, stranded in a post-apocalyptic nightmare. i read a new york times article entitled 'united states of shame' today... i thought it was a most appropriate title. it's simply ricoculous that we, as a country, didn't mobilize sooner to save our own people. we seem to have no problem mobilizing if it means that we get to destroy something. if we get to kill some other country's people. yet we trip over our feet and fall flat on our faces when it comes to helping our own people... yes, most of them are poor. yes, some of them are criminals. but it does not mean that they are sub-human and that it is somehow alright to just wait five days to do anything at all. five. days. five horrible, terrifying days.
mr. president - how can you stand in front of our nation and call yourself our leader, our commander in chief, when you didn't do anything. yes, i blame your government, our government, my government - not for hurricane katrina. not for the flooding and the destruction - a much mightier force than you did that [no, not god. NATURE: that force that you seem to so easily push to the back-burner of your mind when you make policies that blatantly disregard the environment, discontinue policies that would attempt to protect the environment, etc.]. i blame your government for letting so many die needlessly - for letting them sit and starve and whither away until every shred of that so-called 'civilized' nature was stripped from them. at the push of a button, the whisper of an order, thousands of people could have been mobilized immediately to start to do some good. but that button wasn't ever pushed, that order never given - at least not when it should have been. do you understand that possibly 10,000 or more could be dead? can you even begin to comprehend a number like that? not nameless, faceless people. your citizens. the people you and your cronies are supposed to protect. isn't that what you promised to do when our blinded nation put you in office? to protect the people. well, nicely done. swell job.
i know i'm supposed to hydrate myself and whatnot, but i am also an architecture student. this, of course, means that i must consume ridiculous amounts of caffeine in order to function properly... this also means that i am now having to drink an absurd amount of water... grrr. but i digress - so, my friends and i went down to the common grounds today to have coffee, as the stuff they like to call 'coffee' at the campus coffee shop isn't and if you want anything with espresso in it, good luck. but i digress, yet again - while having coffee, my friends and i were treated to a wonderful display of employee art. neat stuff, i tell you. so, if you're in need of a caffeinated beverage of sorts and/or yummy edible stuff and/or alcohol in large quantities, you should head on down to the common grounds [this, of course, requires that you be in fayetteville, as that is where the common grounds is located] and check it out. yeah.
as i write this, i realize how incoherent it is... i apologize, but i lack the ability to be articulate at the moment. if you read my babble often, you realize that this is a normal occurrence - i simply have an excuse to be rambling, as i am under the influence of some weird purple cold/cough pills. if you are new to idontliketowearshoes, please pardon my current idiocy. i'm hoping it will wear off... but i'm not holding my breath. them purple pills have done me in. i am completely useless at the moment... and i'm loving it.
as i tried to blink my nightmare away, i discovered, to my horror, that i had not been dreaming at all. my nightmare had come to life.
i can't help but simply, dumbly stare at the newspaper, at the images of utter devastation that glare back at me from the ink-covered pages i hold in my hands... blink in horror at the pictures of dead bodies floating amongst the debris flashing in front of me on the computer screen... much like i felt when i watched the images of the countries and people in shambles after the tsunami last year, i feel terribly powerless and small. what i wouldn't give to just have the power to help... to have resources at my fingertips to be able to do some good.
this time, everything is different.
my best friend lives [lived] in new orleans. her apartment and everything that she owns [owned] is now submerged in the toxic stew that has washed over the city. her friends are missing. my friends are missing. people i know - not just people on a tv screen, but people who mean something to me, people i've spent time with, gotten to know, talked with, drank with, care for are missing, displaced... maybe even gone forever... and my heart simply aches, for it can do nothing else.
i've never felt like less of a friend than when my best friend told me that she'd lost everything and all i could do was say 'i'm sorry.' how does one even begin to convey the regret, the desire to do anything one can to help in any way when someone tells you something like '... gone. everything is gone.'?
inconsequential nothings i now have an 'excuse' to be distracted from:
1] the ever-present pile of cardboard boxes full of my stuff that i still haven't unpacked after two months - that i really should unpack - that are taking up most of the floor space in my tiny little bedroom.
2] the stack of bills i have yet to pay for lack of funding.
3] the growing disorder that has taken over the aforementioned miniscule 'sleeping' quarters [i say 'sleeping' because i probably won't be doing very much of that until december... what joy is mine].
4] laundry... new philosophy - if it doesn't smell too terribly and if there are no obvious spots, the item in question is alright to wear... again.
5] hanging up the perfectly clean clothes that are scattered about my limited floorspace - i loathe folding and hanging things up... stupid, i know, but i can't help it.
6] grad school applications [not at all inconsequential, but they stress me out, so i shall allow myself to be temporarily 'distracted'].
7] all extra-curricular employment - the money would be nice, and is desperately needed, but the added strain would most likely bring on a very early heart attack and/or aneurysm... neither of which sound exactly pleasant to me.
currently, i am working on 'color studies' for a meticulous rendering of a yucca seed pod... which basically equates to a migraine from focusing my eyes for far too long on something that is entirely too small and entirely too intricate; getting to form caluses on my right forefinger and thumb from having to sharpen a prisma pencil about every two minutes; being positively terrified of fucking up a drawing after having spent 50 hours on it, having to begin again and finish before the original deadline [this will come in a few days, as i have just started said drawing... again, what joy is mine]; going through four books-on-tape in two days; and wanting to vomit every time i see a yucca seed pod. one more semester. one more semester. one more semester... and then i get to write a thesis. what can i say? i guess i'm just a glutton for punishment or something of the like.
ciao ciao kiddies.
i know that this is a day late, but i felt i needed to say goodbye and to say thank you. thank you for the music. thank you for shows that were so good that i wished they could go on forever. thank you for my first legal beer and for all of the sass behind the bar. thank you for making it ok to dance like an idiot in front of strangers because i couldn't keep standing still. thank you for introducing me to indie music - it changed my life.
so cheers to jr's. cheers to actually wanting to hang out in a smelly basement because there wasn't any place i'd rather be. cheers to having just one more beer after the 'ugly lights' have come on. cheers to playing up until the last minute and rocking out for every second of it. cheers to being swallowed by the music, closing your eyes and letting it envelope you. cheers to jr's for hosting the two greatest shows i've ever seen in my life. cheers to the music, the people and the place.
thank you jr's.
thank you for the music.
thank you for the memories.
i noticed a wonderfully flamboyant woman in a green and white pinstriped dress with a positively enormous white hat with magenta flowers around the brim walking around with her i'm-mad-at-the-world-and-only-own-black-clothing goth kid son trailing along behind her. the woman was actually strutting, if it is at all possible to strut in 19th century women's attire. the best part was that as she walked past me she looked down her nose at me, as if to say, 'i see someone apparently doesn't own a hoop-skirt... how sad.'
i'm sorry, but i really do enjoy living in the 21st century. i like living with air-conditioning, electricity, motor vehicles, etc. i also like dressing in contemporary clothing that doesn't wreak of moth balls and that allows me to breathe and move properly. i love jeans and t-shirts and... hmm, let's see... oh, i remember: not wearing a corset. pardon me for not actively trying to contort my internal organs... i like them just exactly as they are, thank you very much.
there were all of these people who took this whole pre civil war reenactment thing just a little too seriously. saluting the union flag and such... to each his own, i suppose, but it just creeps me out just a little bit. having a school dedicated to teaching young women how to properly courtesy, dress with a hoop-skirt, fix their hair in a manner that facilitates wearing a bonnet, churn butter, darn things, etc. is all a little bit off. i think that it's wonderful to have 'living history' and to know that there are people out there who truly believe we have a heritage worth preserving... but it's still just a teensie bit strange.
i thought that just plain crazy people were fun, but you should try the historical crazies... they're positively fantastic.
at least i can take comfort in the fact that sleep-deprivation-induced hallucinations are fun. and i guess there is the little silver lining on the aforementioned clouds... being that i will [hopefully] graduate in may. thank. you. dear. sweet. jesus. whatever drug-induced logic allowed me to voluntarily sign up for a five year undergraduate program should be abolished. i have had a ridiculous amount of fun, mind you... that whole work-hard-play-harder thing. thanks to architecture school, i have mastered the art of dividing my time between work and party... and, more importantly, mastered the art of party. cheers to me.
i am rambling again... my deepest apologies go out to whoever has actually read this babble.
beddie-by time... i have an early appointment with heavy machinery and i have no desire to lose appendages...
i'm currently hanging out on my front porch, listening with great intensity to the wonderfully ridiculous conversation of two women 'under the influence' talking across the way. the most amusing parts are when the lady in the red shirt stops, mid-conversation, to speak in the most absurd little voice to her dog 'petunia.' i wish that i could somehow have the power to find out what that poor little dog thinks everytime red-shirt-lady speaks to her like that... probably thoughts like, 'if i only had thumbs, i'd cause you tremendous bodily harm' or 'i wish they made ear-plugs for dogs.' i know, i'm terrible and i'm probably going straight to hell, but i simply can't resist... some people make it far too easy to make them the object of some overly-sarcastic diatribe... the best part of this whole ordeal is that these two women apparently live right next door to one another, yet, insist on having this abnormally loud, incoherent conversation on the balcony in front of their apartment, where the acoustics in the quad [as all of the buildings face inwards toward a grassy quad-thingy with trees in it... wow, that was eloquent] cause their voices to bounce all over the place. 'hey, everyone, listen to me... i'm saying something important... so, when i was drunk that one time a that one bar and i blah blah blah...'
yeah, straight to hell.
i'm sleepy again, so pardon the jumping around... introducing people to new music, movies and books is positively wonderful... again, i'm a nerd, so i enjoy these things more than most. i went to brewski's tonight to hang out with some of my colleagues from work and the conversation drifted toward - randomly - the dandy warhols and wes anderson... partly due to the fact that the wonderful people at brewski's were playing the dandy warhols' album 'thirteen tales from urban bohemia' and it reminded me of wes anderson's films somehow... nevertheless, i ended up telling my friend, sam, about all sorts of bands she'd never heard of... now i get to make a mix-tape. while playing tee-ball and sliding on a slip-and-slide might be some people's idea of a good time, making mix-tapes has been one of my favorite past-times since i have been able to operate a stereo with any sort of recording capabilities. needless to say, i'm a bit excited...
this whole operating-a-keyboard-while-dreadfully-tired thing is killing me, so i shall leave you with this: lime jell-o gives off the same brain waves as adult males.
ciao ciao kiddies. on the morrow.
i have decided that i strongly dislike waiting tables. it's not that the job itself is shit, because it can be most entertaining at times and the people i work with are amazing. it's just that people... well... aren't so great or nice or even civil to people who work in the food service industry. it would seem that i didn't get the memo that stated that i am a lower class of human being because i don't work in an office. this is new information for me... and i have to say that i think that is utterly ridiculous. i think that instead of mandatory military service and whatnot, people should be required to work in a restaurant for at least a year. let people learn to understand that, no, servers do not make minimum wage... we make $2.13 an hour. and then even that is taxed. so yes, we do rely on your tips... otherwise, i would be making an average of $30 a week... how's that for bread money? let people learn to understand that people bust their asses so that you can have 'a night out.' let people learn to understand to treat people, no matter what their current state of employ, like human beings...
it's not even so much that he's a soldier or that he's doing something that takes tremendous courage, strength and honor... it's just that he's happy. and proud. it's been so long since i've seen matt smile - i mean truly smile, and he really smiled this time. it was just a bit overwhelming... in a really good way.
maybe it's the late night or the fresh air [writing on the front porch], but i have an urge to write something... humor me, if you will: the kindness of people can be a bit overwhelming sometimes... people who understand when you just need a hug and give you one... no special requests or circumstances needed, simply an understanding of someone else's desire to feel physically tied to someone, if only for a brief moment. i'm blessed enough to be surrounded by people like that... call it luck, call it what you will, but i have some pretty damn wonderful friends. it never fails that when i'm feeling a little detached - a little alone - i get a phone call, a knock on the door, or something of the like... i'm rescued by the kindness of my true friends on a regular basis... someone once told me that i should strive to surround myself with people who make me smile, people who enrich my life... i think i've succeeded. though i may not make enough of a contribution to them, my friends are the greatest gift i have and i am forever grateful.
... i did get to take a brief break this weekend... got to visit the parental units and see some old friends... got to hang out on the farm and meet a pro fly fisherman who has generously offered to take me under his wing and 'show me the ropes,' so to speak... there was apparently a meteor shower of sorts on saturday night and i decided that i would lay down in the grass to watch it... i woke up some time later [it was a while, as i had grass prints on my face... lovely], covered in chigger bites and itching like hell. all in all, it was really great sleep, though... and while it was brief, the meteor shower was quite beautiful.
oh [i apologize for skipping around a lot, i'm slightly sleep deprived and i ramble when i'm sleepy... why i'm typing right now is quite a mystery for me, but c'est la vie, i suppose] - the club that has been contributing to my lack of sleep vis a vis the room-vibrating bass at 2am burned down on saturday morning. i was out of town during this club-burning-down-business and it was very strange to see what used to be a club across the street suddenly transformed into a smoldering pile of rubble and random awning parts. it would seem that studio seven sixteen is no more... sad, really, because they had a really kickin' drag show on saturday nights. endless hours of entertainment. yes, i do love me a good drag show... there's something so gratifying about seeing men dress up as women, act like women and do it well...
there are the really bad drag queens - thought they don't even deserve to be called drag queens - who think that by putting on a dress of sorts and some really poorly applied make-up, they will be morphed into some sort of goddess. wrong, darling... so terribly wrong and sad. much like anything one does in life... to be good at something, even being a girl for a night, takes a little bit of effort.
speaking of brain... my roommate, camille, receives the newspaper everyday... and i read it. oh yeah... there's some pretty messed up shit happenin' in this here bible belt... pretty twisted and pretty entertaining. what more could one possibly ask for in a paper product? not much, that's what. for instance, i found out that one of my co-workers was arrested for possession with intent to sell on the 8th of july in benton county arkansas by the sheriff's department. now where else could i learn such valuable information? nowhere... well, unless i had connections in the sheriff's department and i don't... so, thank you newspaper. thank you from the bottom of my little heart.
did you know that here in the baptist capital of the world, if one so much as breathes out of the wrong nostril, it gets printed in the newspaper? if one commits a social faux pas... it gets printed in the newspaper. if one were to - say - go to dickson street [the bar-hopping zone of fair fayetteville], trip on the sidewalk and fall on one's face, it would probably be printed in the newspaper, along with pictures of said event - just so that the humiliation can be all the more semi-permanent.
is it really front page news that jane doe runs a sewing club from her lakefront cottage in northwest arkansas? do i really need to read about that stuff when i am eating my cereal, drinking my coffee and trying to feed my brain with today's current world events in the morning... no? no. while it's grand and all... i don't need to know. why - you ask - don't i just turn on the tv and watch the bbc or some other comparable network? because i'm poor and can't afford cable. that's why... [thought that i'd drop the hint that i'm seeking funding and donations are welcome once more before i finish this post... hint hint wink wink nudge nudge...]
i'm spent... on the morrow, then, kiddies?
having not posted in an exorbitant amount of time, i've been pressuring myself to write something brilliant - something i rarely do, much less under the added self-pressure. so this is basically it - i'm here... barely... working three jobs and attending a class at the university on 'russia since 1861', reading a lot and living out of cardboard boxes [hopefully i will remedy that situation shortly]... trying desperately to 'get my shit back in order' [to put it as ineloquently as possible].
i've spent a lot of time alone lately... and i find it strangely comforting to rely on myself for company. i guess i can deem it giving my self a 'social vacation' and all that nonsense... but being around constant gossip is just not fun.. particularly when said gossip is aimed directly at yours truly... no, no fun at all when you really think about it. i'd rather be locked in a room infested with spiders [and coming from an arachnophobic person, that's saying quite a bit]... i am not perfect, nor have i ever claimed to be. i make more mistakes than one could possibly imagine, but this is who i am and if i change, it won't be motivated by someone else's critique of me... i'm satisfied with knowing that i am a work in progress. basta. soapbox nonsense over.
mind you, my body still hates me quite profoundly for letting it fall down a flight of stairs but it probably hates me even more for going to david's house on saturday night. too much beer. too much fun [well, not really... there's no such thing as too much fun, but go with me on this one... willing suspension of disbelief and all that jazz]. so midway through the evening i finally find a chair to sit in that doesn't hurt me [i think i gave my tail bone quite the thrashing on the stairs] and low and behold, my friend david decides that it would be a great idea to make my chair flip over... with him squarely on top of me... yeah, body not so happy about that one...
so i spent most of yesterday being as lazy as possible... we'll deem it recuperating for the time being. i watched the third harry potter movie twice, took a bath, read a book... did as little moving as possible... and it would seem that my body hates me just a little less today than it did yesterday. all in all, i'd call that progress.
having written all of this, i did have the chance to watch my friend's brother's wedding video this weekend, and it was really quite wonderful. none of this 'who serves who' business and the like. the whole thing was so full of love and joy that it kind of made me want to cry - in a really good kind of way [i thought i'd add this little tid-bit for those of you who don't know me very well: i'm not a wedding crier... nor do i really cry during movies, ceremonies, etc. ... maybe i'm just a heartless freak, but i've just never been that moved to weep during a ceremony...]. it was wonderfully romantic - on a beach in costa rica at sunset during the spring... all that stuff you read about but no one actually does.
i guess it was kind of reassuring to know that people are still romantic... that people can love each other enough to not be afraid to be goofy in their pursuit of romance...
being on this trip reminded me of how much i used to enjoy being outside as much as possible... being active as much as possible... it seems as though i'd forgotten that since i moved to fayetteville - surprisingly. i love coming home after a full day of traipsing around some unfamiliar place, feeling as though if i move just once more i will involuntarily collapse [not from lack of sleep... which has unfortunately been my trend as of the last four years]. i also love solitude [in doses] - being able to disappear for a while; to sit in complete solitude with the world swirling past you in easy waves whilst you sit in awe of what surrounds you. that is a great moment.
i spent the majority of my day today in the woodshop in the basement of vol walker... why is it that everything you think will take 20 minutes takes you all goddamn day? argh. that's what i have to say about that: argh. i've learned - among other things - 2 very important things these past few months: 1] respect those who have the patience, talent and upper body strength to work with concrete - if you don't, they have the power to possibly beat you down with an 80 lb. bag of concrete or two... 2] don't wear fleece, sweatshirts or anything black in a woodshop because, a] sawdust never really comes out of your clothes, no matter how many times or how thoroughly you wash them, and b] you end up with sawdust in very peculiar and potentially embarrassing places which fuzzy or dark clothing tend to accentuate... don't ask.
i had a dream that you grew a garden on a trampoline and i was so happy that i'd invented peanut butter...
i did get to go to the movie theater on friday [courtesy of a lovely woman i am privileged to call my best friend - absa] for the first time this semester. we went to see kingdom of heaven... damn. amazing. movie. i wasn't expecting anything quite that good, and needless to say, i was more than pleasantly surprised. having taken military history and being a history geek/nerd/what have you, i really appreciated the movie for not being one of those overly-biased-i-haven't-ever-picked-up-a-history-book-in-my-whole-god-
forsaken-life-but-i-felt-like-making-an-historical-movie kind of movies... i also appreciated the lack of preacheri-ness in the movie. as someone who grew up in the middle east and as someone who detests the current trend of condemning islamic people because of their faith [or anyone for that matter], i was most touched by the respectful portrayal of both christians and muslims... of people in the movie.
this was, however, brutally interrupted by the disgusting woman behind me [who, mind you, should be slapped for being such a bigot], got up after that wonderful film and stated, [imagine the most ignorant accent you can muster] 'i just can't believe that they'd actually make those muslims look good in that movie.' i wanted to get up and say, in the most serious tone i could possibly conjure, 'you. damn. fool. i pity you for being so ignorant and hateful.' i will go to my grave still wondering how people who claim to be 'godly' can be so full of warrantless hate. surely, 'god's people' should be good people, tolerant people, people who respect others and 'do unto others as they would have done unto them.' but, such is life, i suppose. i personally think that it's some sort of cruel twist of fate that would have people spending their lives filling their stony hearts full of more blackness...
this is one of those times that i have to remind myself of one of those things everyone should just trust is true: that all people are inherently good, no matter the apparent darkness of their actions, no person is entirely evil... and then i turn on the news and see pure, unadulterated evil staring right back at me with his stupid camel face and it makes me want to believe it all the more... people are inherently good. people are inherently good. good. good. good.
some might find it interesting/amusing to know that i have already cut myself twice while trying to build models for said critique... some might also find it interesting that i have also bruised both of my hands in a futile attempt to 'nip' stone to make a mosaic... but most people would find this mind-numbingly dull, so i'll save you the excruciating boredom of having to read about it.
yup, my life will be boring for a while... at least for the next ten days - unless there is some juicy studio drama that unfolds that i can share with you here at idontliketowearshoes [i.e. someone losing a digit to the dreaded x-acto blade, nervous breakdowns, drunken mishaps in the studio - you know, your basic pre-critique nonsense]. however, i'm not holding my breath - lack of oxygen tends to make it rather difficult to work...
i say, 'ha. i defy you, sanity. i can do without you... i will most likely have more fun without you... who needs sanity anyway - i can now have a wonderfully viable excuse to make a complete ass out of myself on a regular basis ['you see, she's just crazy... pay no attention to her'].'
mind you, i am from the south - born in texas and whatnot - but the only real southern expressions i use are mam, sir, and [on occasion] y'all. ain't, double negatives, reckon, 'figur' [figure], j'eet yet? [have you eaten yet?], 'moungry' [i'm hungry], 'fixin' tuh' [about to], etc. haven't really found their way into my vocabulary as of the present moment and will hopefully take the subtle hint that they are not invited into my vocabulary any time soon...
i have no qualms with people who speak 'southern' - as a matter of fact, most of my very closest friends and family are so southern that it could be said that they speak an entirely different language - i just find that 'southern' doesn't really facilitate my manner of expression very well...
i have no idea where i was going with this at all... but i've spent the last hour or so contemplating the oddity of 'southern speak' and how it tends to just pop up out of nowhere, like daisies in the snow... at least 'southern' isn't irritating... just ever so wonderfully amusing - like mullets [another southern phenomenon]... they never fail to bring a smile to my face.
it actually reminds me of the milk chug that i was idiotic enough to participate in during my first year of architecture school... dear god, have i come a long way [at least i would like to think that my having developed the sense to not try to make myself vomit on purpose is 'a long way']. what is a milk chug? one could ask. let me lay it all out there for ya'...
during a milk chug, one is required to down an entire gallon of milk in an hour or less... now, this really is much more difficult than one would imagine... given that after you finish about half of a gallon, your body kind of decides to hate you, your stomach deciding that it would much rather act like a tiny lil' version of mount saint helens on a bad day than just cooperate with you in your stupid stunt...
the 3 most important milk chug ground rules:
1. absolutely no skim milk... 2% milk can be acceptable, as long as you are willing to live with the fact that you're a wuss...
2. you may not - at any time during the given hour of the milk chug - vomit on any of the other idiots chugging milk with you. it happens, but it's just not good practice to throw up on people that you are a] friends with, b] working with or, c] stuck in a studio with for the next 5 years of your life. people tend to dislike 'involuntary protein spill' all over them...
3. someone must videotape/record the moronic event so that the participants can look back and enjoy how stupid they once were/still are... recordings can also be used as a valuable blackmail tool later in life...
aside from the funny, i was really excited by the fact that david sedaris has published a new book, children playing before a statue of hercules, an anthology of mr. sedaris' favorite short stories; the most wonderful part - aside from a collection of great literature - is that the proceeds of the book go to benefit 826 national, an organization that helps teach 8-18-year-olds to write... even better, 826 valencia is fronted by a pirate supply store and 826 nyc is fronted by a super hero supply store... so, not only are these kiddies getting the chance of a lifetime - getting to have a writing workshop with pulitzer prize winners and such - but they can outfit their own gang of superheroes and pirates at the same time... woo.
today is an absolutely gorgeous day. this - of course - means that i am stuck in the basement of vol walker hall - again - breathing in noxious fumes, trying to figure out why all computers/machines hate me with such a fiery passion and missing out on yet another park-worthy day/baseball game. my consolation prize can be that i did get to go to the game last night and watch the razorbacks beat 'vandie' [vanderbilt] 6-5... and a lovely evening it was.
i went to a lecture the other night, during which the speaker stated that he has observed a rise in psychological unbalance in society - low-grade cases of schizophrenia popping up everywhere. take - as per his example - road rage. why is it that perfectly balanced people go bat-shit-crazy in their cars? i mean, people absolutely lose their shit behind the wheel over the dumbest junk... granted, i'm not saying that i'm any sort of saint in this matter: people who drive 10mph under the speed limit because they feel like it really piss me off... people who apparently received their driver's license as a cracker jack prize also ruffle my feathers... people who drive their humvies and suburbans like they're driving a miata - you know, the people who can't decide if if would be easier to try and sqeeze into the left lane or the right lane, so they just straddle both? - should be forbidden from getting behind the wheel [this also applies to parking: if your fat ass vehicle can't fit into a parking spot, maybe you should reconsider your method of automotive transport]...
lately, i've just been laughing hysterically at just how poorly people drive - which probably makes me look even more insane than just flipping out in my car, arms flailing everywhere and getting all red-faced and frustrated and whatnot...
'yeah, so there's this girl behind me that is just laughing her ass off for no apparent reason whatsoever... what a crazy___ ['fill in the blank with a good thing to fill in'].'
three cheers for sleeping in your own bed! [hint: this is the interactive part...] hip hip hooray! hip hip hooray! hip hip hooray!
that's enough cheering for one night. now go to sleep, you hooligans.
the visit went well and my readers will be happy to know that i kept my idiotic behavior to an absolute minimum - this includes, but is not limited to: 1] cursing in inappropriate places/situations, 2] falling down/up stairs, 3] tripping over absolutely nothing and landing squarely on my ass or face, 4] making silly faces at people for no apparent reason, 5] belching as loudly as possible for no apparent reason whatsoever, 6] i could go on like this forever, but i hope that you get my point.
i was actually dressed like a normal person for the majority of the trip [i.e. not in clothes that i 1] got for free at some jr's-related event, 2] picked up at cheap thrills, 3] poured concrete in, etc.] - thank you banana republic for making decent-looking clothes that actually fit me. on my last day, however, i participated in several presentations where i was - again - dressed like a normal person [i guess that this really equates to a business-type attire and high heels, since i am vertically challenged... therefore, utter discomfort for yours truly], but after my final presentation, i quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt... i was highly amused when, while asking for the whereabouts of the person who was to drive me to the airport, the department secretary didn't recognize me. this happened again, jokingly, when i went to have lunch before departing... i really don't think that i looked that different, but i guess that it was a fairly abrupt change.
after some anxiety that i wouldn't be able to get back to fayetteville due to snow, i finally got home... just in time for this weekend's baseball series against mississippi state... put it this way: the hogs have not had the best of weekends. this is surprising, considering their record for this season... you win some, you lose some, i guess. i just hope that we pound the living daylights out of the 'bulldogs' this afternoon... not so much to 'salvage what's left of the series,' as to shut the mississippi state fans up. i have never, in all my life, had the displeasure of being in the company of such rude and annoying fans. example: during friday night's game, chris and i ended up directly in front of this really weird mississippi state fan. he grunted a lot, paced back and forth while grunting a lot, kept announcing either a strike or a ball at the top of his lungs every time the pitch result was posted on the scoreboard, kept mumbling under his breath [which was very creepy, i might add], and would throw hissy fits every time the razorbacks either got a hit or a run... or a walk [since we did earn a lot of those on friday] - he sounded a lot like the people on the 'goobacks' episode of south park... 'they took our jobs' ... 'dur dur dur'.
on saturday, chris and i had the pleasure of sitting in front of one of the largest people i have ever laid eyes on... a mississippi state fan that insisted on chanting some ridiculous nonsense about getting a basehit in this weird rhythmic chanting style... EVERY SINGLE TIME A PLAYER FROM MISSISSIPPI STATE WAS UP TO BAT. oh, and that's not all... said fan also chanted in the same style during OUR at bats... something about holding us at bay or some such nonsense... anyway, you get my drift, i hope...
tah tah for now... go hogs
tah tah for now kiddies... this one must get her ass out of bed at 5am tomorrow in order to make her flight[s]...
have you ever been to an event - specifically a concert - that you just didn't want to end? where the music touches some nerve deep down inside of you that causes sincere delight? but once you think about the fact that it will eventually end, you can't get the thought of said conclusion of delightful event out of your mind, so you try and try and try to enjoy the show as much as is humanly possible? that was what little booger was like. smoking his cigarette in quick, intense little drags. shaking his head back and forth to the beat of the drums. shuffling from side to side on his heals like a little hipster from the inability to stand still during such a rhythmic explosion. once in a while, checking to make sure that his hair was still carefully disheveled.
i couldn't help but smile when i thought about what was probably going through his mind... it just makes me happy to see other people so overwhelmingly content [unless, that is, they are vindictive, evil people... then i glare very intimidatingly at them if they show signs of happiness... because their happiness normally means utter misery for some other [normally] innocent party]. if everyone could enjoy music/be passionate about music the way that little booger was about the french kicks and calla, the world would probably be a much better place...
on this subject of getting crap done: why is it that the weather is shit until you are required to remain inside in a room without windows to get work done? ... actually, i guess it would be worse to have to stare straight into paradisical weather while trapped inside your task box... i only say this because - once again - i was relegated to the basement of jolly old vol walker hall in a room without windows [well, there are actually two windows, but they afford no view or any real access to the 'outside world'] on a sunny, eighty-degree, cloudless day... damnit. i guess i'll just have to hope that by some providence, tuesday will be lovely... i might actually have a rare moment of free time to go lie around in the grass or some such silly nonsense... i can't bloody wait. this anticipation is made even more prevalent because tomorrow - all day tomorrow - will be filled with reviews [from 9am until 11pm with two very small breaks for sustenance... la dee friggin' dah]... but i guess that one should expect to have an anxious wait for anything that is worthwhile.
... at least i'll just keep telling myself that.
so, in the theme of super size me, here's a tasty nugget for everyone [being the five people who actually read my babble...] to chew on: you would have to walk for seven hours straight to burn off a super sized coke, fry and big mac.
i wake up every week with such hopes for a wonderful start and you dash those hopes - nearly without fail - every week. why do you have to be so horrible to so many people? is there some sort of bribe/fee/donation that people at large are supposed to be paying you to ensure an absence of black mondays? or do you simply prefer human sacrifice? would that cure your bloodlust and maybe make you more tolerable? or are you really female and in a permanent state of horribly venomous pms? this, i could at least sympathize with - considering that i am a woman as well - because i can feel your pain...
if there is, however, some other reason - some vindictive plot to ruin the start of everyone's week just for your own sick pleasure, i will just continue to hate you... you will leave me no choice but to do so.
but i digress...
the aforementioned pacifists were extraordinarily entertaining at jr's last night... belting out-of-tune and off-time renditions of 'we're all members of a fucked up world' [by the killers, i think] at the tops of their lungs and shakin' some booty to the wonderful tunes from the jukebox... and lighting things on fire in ashtrays... ahhhh... ain't life just grand, though, when you can bear witness to twenty- and thirty-somethings acting like really happy children?
why is it though that i only seem to really crave the stuff when it's bloody freezing outside? it's like my habit of chewing ice... the colder i/it gets, the more i do it. i've been sitting in studio all day, it's 40 degrees outside with a biting wind and i can think of nothing but ice cream. i want a ben & jerry's phish food milkshake... as of now, i've never had a ben & jerry's phish food milkshake, but i love ben & jerry's phish food and i love milkshakes... so why the hell not? [and no, this isn't like the whole 'i love pickles and i love peanut butter so why shouldn't i combine them' thing... phish food and milkshake are quite compatible...]
i returned home yesterday after taking a short trip to memphis, tn to see a couple of projects by my studio professor's firm - building studio - and to see the exhibit of the quilts of gee's bend at the brooks museum. coleman's projects were amazing - this was the first time that i've been able to visit a site with the architect... it was marvelous to be able to experience a new place with the person who designed it... particularly the bridges center in memphis [this is a hint to either a) go to memphis and check the bridges center out; and/or b) go to the building studio website and check it out for yourself... i promise that it will be well worth the visit]. when discussing the beauty of the site and the structure, my friend austin said, 'i think that the program of the building is responsible for most of [the building's] beauty.' i concur.
the quilts of gee's bend exhibit was also fabulous. i spent about an hour and a half looking around the exhibition space in a state of absolute wonder. i found it interesting that we [i'm speaking in generalities here] place all of this focus on the 'superiority of european art' and the importance of an expensive and elitist artistic training and yet somehow, people from one of the poorest towns in the united states, without exposure to or education about [modern] art have produced some of the most flabbergastingly beautiful artifacts that i've ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
on a completely unrelated topic: i had the pleasure of attending my first razorback baseball game of this season today... it was cold as hell and it rained the whole damn time [i was wet to the core by the time the game was over]... but it was totally worth every shivering minute of it; the hogs swept minnesota in this weekend's series... woo. i just hope that maybe the sec will raise the bar on its standards for game officials... even with umpires who apparently haven't read baseball's rule book, the hogs still dominated!
since i was the last to arrive at the bar and oh so very behind on my intake of alcohol, i guess that one could have called me the 'designated driver by default.' while pseudo-carrying jesus to my car, i realized just how short i really am: having to be the human walking stick for a nearly-seven-foot-tall man while i measure up at a measly 5'-3" was quite an eye-opening experience... though i will think of this as not that i am a midget but that jesus is just too damn tall.
[side note: i honestly don't understand what the big deal is about driving someone home when they aren't capable or just shouldn't do it themselves. no big deal... i mean, come on... dui's/car accidents aren't any fun for anyone involved... and in all seriousness, anyone who would just leave friends or even aquaintences in a drunken stupor to drive themselves home are, without a doubt, the lowest of the scum of the earth.]
i know that i have been most grateful when i have been the driven and not the driver, so i was happy to assist jesus on his journey home... my only question is, does this mean that i get to go to heaven? i mean, i did help jesus in a time of need and all...
i get the marvelously entertaining 'job' of getting to play with the laser cutter this dreary afternoon... i'm printing stuff on paper with a laser... duuuuude, this is so freakin' sweet, man. totally groovy and stuff. i wish that my printer - if i actually had one of my very own - did its job via laser. i'd be the coolest girl on the block. i could be LASER GIRL [of course, this most recent part is said with the movie-fone guy voice], complete with my own utility belt with lots of gadgety stuff and the absolutely necessary accessory to any superhero's ensemble: the goofy-looking, skin-tight, incredibly cliche costume... cape and all.
... but for now, i guess that playing with someone else's laser will have to suffice.
911 is on speed dial and i am trained in dealing with lacerations - so don't worry your pretty little head... cheers.