face lift.

i thought that with the addition of my lovely new banner [thank you, chris], i should post something. i have to admit that i've been a bit side-tracked this past week...

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!


do you remember that time when jesus christ puked all over the bar?

so, to take a break from my endless piles of reading and work and such, i decided to join chris and eric and some friends visiting from out of town at brewski's for a beer. not in my whole life would i have expected to see my very christ-like-looking roommate drunk out of his mind at the table... immobile even. might i remind you that i haven't ever seen my roommate drunk... tipsy, yes, but never drunk.

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...


if i could be a superhero, i'd be awesome man...

the 'laser room' in the basement of jolly old vol walker hall smells of melted plexi glass... so much so that my nostrils [yes, boys and girls, both of my nostrils] are burning and my eyes are starting to glaze over - probably because of all of the toxic crap that i'm inhaling, but who really cares about the consequences of inhaling toxic crap anyway?

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.


happy friggin valentine's day to you, world.

so, i'm really not that into all that gushy crap, but i thought that dropping a very sincere 'happy valentine's day' to anyone who happens to read this would be a fun thing to do - you know, since it is valentine's day and all.


beer and a night full of glue sticks

the cold and slightly empty fat tire to my left looks lonely. is that a second beer you're hinting at? why, yes... i believe it is. now, this whole drinking-while-cutting-things-with-xacto-blades-junk is exactly what i was taught not to do all of three years ago: 'friends don't let friends cut drunk' was the slogan on the t-shirt, i think. however, i must insist on the drinking-beer-while-using-xacto-blade-stuff, as it is saturday night, after all, and i am stuck in my house making 'pretty things' while everyone in their right mind in jolly old fayettenam is at jr's or one of the many drinking establishments here, enjoying their beer and lack of obligation to said 'pretty things'.

911 is on speed dial and i am trained in dealing with lacerations - so don't worry your pretty little head... cheers.


if my cat only had thumbs... then again, he'd probably use them to strangle me in my sleep

cecil, the gray-haired, spoiled brat of a cat that i absolutely adore, somehow finds a way to sit on, claw into, chew on or play with [as in, to swat violently at something with his enormous talons] any drawing that i happen to be working on.

why is it that paper is just paper to cecil until i start working on it [after that, it apparently becomes a toy]? the best part about the whole thing is that cecil [also known in my house as 'the big, furry alarm clock'] will just look at you when you ask him 'what the hell do you think you're doing?,' as if he's never been so sure about a place where he wants to lick his butt in his whole life...


the books i'm reading make me feel cold

The sickness continues. not only am i not feeling any better, but i feel about twice as badly as i did yesterday. this is like having an illness in reverse - i felt fine and then WHAMMY, i was sick, but just feverish sick and then i get all achey and my-stomach-feels-gross-kind-of-feeling and now i feel just icky. ok, i will officially stop whining right after i make this next comment: the lovely doctor that i went to see the other day [and really, she was incredibly nice] prescribed me an EIGHTY-FIVE DOLLAR medicine. i mean, come the f!@# on. i'm a poor college student, how in the living hell am i supposed to afford that crap?!

i've realized in these past couple of days how skewed my perspective has become in regards to 'free time.' when one is sick, one has an abundance of free time [as one is supposed to just rest and recover, right?]... how is it though, that i feel guilty for not running around like a crazy person? architecture school does some pretty strange things to people. instead of sleeping in like i'm supposed to, i wake up early in a cold sweat and in full panic attack because i'm supposed to be busy. i'm supposed to be busting my ass even though i am sick. blah blah blah. i'm making a point to stay home a get rest, though, because i know that if i don't, i'll kick my own ass for it later.

here's a tasty little nugget that i thought was appropriate for this evening's post: the longest bout of sneezing recorded was by donna griffith. it began in january 13 1981 and continued until september 16 1983 and lasted for 978 days.



i'm sick. sick of being sick. sick and bloody tired of feeling like poo. aaaand, i get to go see the doctor this afternoon. woo!!! i'm so friggin' excited, i could pop. [in case you were wondering, you're swimming in sarcasm here. positively soaking in it.] and to make matters so much more sucky [not a word, but give me a little lee-way here, i'm not feeling all that great], my roommate - the big daddy pace - is now 'sick as shit'.

but the absolute worst part about being sick today is that now i have to miss the aqueduct show at jr's tonight. i've already missed the past three shows - granted, i was in italy at the time and it would have been most expensive and difficult to commute - and now i have to miss the fourth, and all because i feel like i've been hit by a truck.

c'est la vie, damnit.


it's not even yours... what you think you own... the ideas in your bones.

so - the slacking begins... i mean 'slacking' as far as me not posting to my blog for inordinate amounts of time... what can i say? 20 hours of classes is kind of bogging me down - to say the very least.

the rome program last semester really did spoil me a bit. i only had to take 15 hours and i got to be in italy... now, i'm at home, i'm still broke, i have virtually no free time, and the course work is never ending. i am proud of myself, though; i've been walking to and from school - up the painfully steep hill [i say 'painfully' because i have shin splints at the moment] on duncan street - and i've been forcing myself to get sleep. i am using this semester as my experiment in 'better time management' and all of that efficient nonsense...

tah tah.