Lithops!

I got these guys via mail because I didn't have the confidence to grow from seed. These are pics of them from right after they were planted.



I opted for a perlite-pebble-cactus soil mix. very quick draining and all my other succulents were doing very well in it.



After planting I gave them each about a teaspoon full of water because I couldn't resist and haven't watered them since. That was in October.





Some have started to get new leaves, but some haven't even begun to divide; it's my guess that growing conditions are less than ideal for them but they will go through the season and maybe get leaves next year.
I have successive pics for next post of how they've grown (or haven't) so far.

As they grow it's very interesting to ignore them for a week and look back at them in shock and awe- new leaves or new colors. Since they require so little care I sometimes forget that they will grow during this time of the year.

Old pictures and Welcome to My Garden.

The split rock plant lovingly referred to as Nevelson is dead. Officially. It's last little leaf if a pile of brown dried crust.

To lift my spirits I have thought on it and decided to put up an introduction to my plants, as I have many.

I grow a lot of succulent plants, but to stop myself from over watering those and turning them to mush I also harbor some easy to grow regular plants. The large clover/flower looking plant is an oxalis, a member of the clover family. It grows from bulbs, and takes a dormant period fro mtime to time to grow healthy well sustained plants.



There is also Ben and Gwen the spider plants, siblings from the mother plant, and 3 African Violets (they all live in the other window). One of them is flowering snow white flowers like it's its job, the other two named Yolanda and Shiquiqui respectively are not flowering at all. They had beautiful flowers in the beginning but now only pump out leaves with reckless abandon. My guess is A) not enough sun, B) needing fertilizer, C) too many suckers or D) they object strongly to their names. They have not popped out a single damn bud though.

for succulents I have 3 Jades, one started by my grandfather, one started by me with assistance from my grandparents, and one my mom started fro ma leaf that jumped ship off her boss's plant. I also have a Jade started in my seedling pots that I did all on my own!

I own about nine or so Lithops that are new to the family but doing well, each a different breed, if I had to pick a favorite it would be Lithops Dorothae: green with red spots, very unique. More on that later.

I own three aloes split from a mother plant, soon to be gifts, and four different species of hens and chicks. I also own a Kalanchoe plant-the ones everyone sees in the grocery store with the insane bright flowers. I also own a really pathetic tiny sunset plant which is one that I was very hopeful about when I first bought it but as the weeks go by its health seems to be waning. The leaves are all squishy and dull; there is new growth so I've been trying to give it water (just enough) and light and time and space. All a plant needs.




AS far as my nursery goes, I have a cutting growing that I picked up off the Wal-Mart floor and put in my pocket-forgot about-then found and set on some dirt-and IT GREW. My guess is it is some variety of Echeveria. I also have a baby jade or two, and a seedling that hitchhiked in on one of my Hens and Chicks that remains a mystery.

death of a houseplant

First things first.
Phrase of the week:

"You've got to paint in [her] muffin top. Otherwise you'll never figure out where the hips actually go."

magical creatures have muffin tops too.

I have murdered my first plant this week. It could have been caused by a mistake I made as much as a month ago, and I'm not sure if I'll ever really know what caused it.

My split rock plant, although somewhat softer in the last few weeks, showed no signs of rotting away into a pile of oozing gelatinous goo thinly contained in the husk of its former glory. I came to consciousness this morning to observe that there was a garbage like odor floating around my room- and when I looked to water my plants, I found that my darling little split rock was literally a pile of goo. Overnight. Probably not overnight-but what felt like overnight.

I imagine it was over watering that started the process, and I spent a good few minutes examining it to see if it could be saved but alas- no dice.

I have hacked away all the soupy bits and it has one tiny leaf left that will most likely die. The new leaves grow using the moisture of the now non existent parent leaves. Where will the baby leaf get its moisture from now that basically the whole plant is gone? I'm not really sure.

The split rock plant has turned from a lovingly cultivated prodigy to a grand experiment in paring away large sections of gangrenous tissue and seeing if the resulting plant can pull its shit back together and continue growing.

All the other plants are doing great. The aloes have turned green again although I was worried because they were quite brown for a while-just means they were over watered a bit. The oxalis are all dying off for a while, the bulbs will sprout new giant clovers after a few weeks-months of being dormant.

I found more Taylor Mali poems online and fell in love again. It's like when people read to you and you become entranced- can't help but love the tones and personality.

Reminds me of my teacher Sebastian Lockwood. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lCQHuUM6FxM&feature=related

Train of thought

*opens door*
My room is really warm...

I should open a window.

My whole room smells like soy sauce.

I should definitely open a window.

I had Chinese food twice this week for the first time since the summer.

I'm now hungry, maybe cereal, I did just buy cereal. I'll have to go all the way downstairs though...

These apples might go bad if I don't start noshing on them...*eats an apple*

Still hungry. TO THE DOWNSTAIRS!

LATER...

*opens door*

My room is really warm...

Cabaret

Peewee Herman would have been proud to call the emcee of Cabaret his homeboy, squeaky voice and all.

The girls? so beautiful. The orchestra? beautiful. the second act all about people dying/ being brainwashed as Nazism took over Germany was not as much fun as the free-wheelin upskirt shots of the first act, which I much enjoyed.

lots of thigh-highs and crotch shots and guys cross dressing as dolls- and singing in the musical numbers priceless.

Also got mah winter stuff to dig through, so I'm gonna go back to trying on various types of hats.

Halloween Dance rocked.

At the school dance I was a flight attendant. My friend Becca was Rosie the riveter, Emily was Miss Piggy and Jim was a pumpkin. My boss Shane was an uber geek. There were other assorted characters, a vampire and his fangirl, Scar and Mufasa, angels both good and evil, a totem pole (two guys one sitting on the other's shoulders SO cool!) a giant baby and as per usual some trollop in her underwear and barely that.

Our friends Kara and Ryan went as a sandwich.

I am now the proud owner of many photos including:

A Rosie the Riveter sandwich, a pumpkin sandwich (and later a Jim and Bridget sandwich), a Geek sandwich, a flight attendant sandwich, a "the whole crowd at the costume contest" sandwich and my favorite, a Miss Piggy sandwich otherwise known as a BLT.

I did the time warp in heels for the second time this year, got groovy to Love Shack and danced it UP to Safety Dance. I shook it up, down left, right and in all kinds of jiggly directions. Splendid evening.

Time spent away from the blog

So far October has passed. Oh So much has happened, oh so little of it important.

I slept on a floor last night, in a cozy little pallet of blankets but on the floor none the less.

It all started when I got home after being kicked out of my studio yesterday because of the power outages. The power was on, but we had to leave nonetheless "in case". Boyfriend left me for Worcester decimating all good plans for the entire weekend, not to mention grocery shopping. Boyfriend's fault? I don't think so really, am I angry at the world for fucking with my plans and expectations of a fun relaxing weekend? Most definitely. More like "Back to Work".

As a VIP/ Upper Classman, I assisted with the organization of the Evacuation and was the last person out because people were unreachable and kept showing up late. At that time it hit me, I was one of four people without friends to stay with away from the dorms. Which made me think, WOW I need to get some friends. But more importantly, I DO NOT WANT TO SLEEP ON A FLOOR WITH STRANGERS when I should be having hot sex with Boyfriend.

As it turns out, I ended up having some friends who let me crash on their floor instead of the permanently lit common area floor of a rather loud and crowded neighboring dorm. I took the first shower in three days today- no soap available.

This morning the sun came up, we rose with it, I'm starving but at least not overly sleep deprived. I am allowed back in my dorm to try and scavenge some good out of this situation. Our party got canceled until further notice; basically the fun got sucked out of the weekend and now.....I need to go balance out some homework I guess.

October

October.

Halloween dance, two knock and talks, 8 nights of fitful sleeping, 5 nights of chorus, one show to take up, take down and one gallery to paint. Laundry to be done for strangers, enjoy too small amount of time with boyfriend, five farmer's markets left.

Soon I will find a way to schedule out my days so I am no longer 4 weeks behind in my classes.

I'm thinking...a professional would probably be the best way.

I bought kohlrabi today to try. The woman seemed very excited about me buying it.

deliver the mail today, gopher.

There is a scary lady at work. She is one of those types who is always angry about everything, especially when she is forced to do the job she gets paid to do. Earlier this month I interrupted a bitch session between her and another unfortunate coworker. Like a hornet, the Office Monster had cornered a poor defenseless (not really but ok) specimen and was vehemently gesticulating at her. I walked in in time to hear this phrase, "It's not because I don't WANT to, it's more that it shouldn't be my job, but it's not like I don't want to do it..." (Which is BS because the subject in question should be part of her job). At this point, I had been standing there awkwardly for about forty seconds. I needed something from Unfortunate Coworker. "Do You NEED Something?!?!" loudly blasted my way with true bitch-i-tude. I left mumbling something about coming back. This is not our first incident. It just added fuel to the hatred between us.

Today I accidentally intercepted the mail on it's way to her desk. Already headed in the direction of her office-and the copier to make copies- I was handed off the mail. I should say, the mail was pawned off on me. I noticed upon entering the area that the outer office where Assistant Monster sits was clean, neat and deserted. Assistant Monster must be out today. I gently placed the Assistant Monster's mail in her bin, neat and organized. I entered the inner sanctum of Monsterness; if this were a video game, this is where the final boss would sit.

Office Monster wasn't here. Her office was messy, the bin on her desk was filled with papers that did NOT look like mail. I wouldn't put the mail in there to get mixed up with some project she was working on. I imagined wrath if I simply placed the mail on the keyboard, or chair. ("This is where I SIT! mail does not GO HERE what is wrong with your intelligence!") Yet, would she see the mail at all if I put it anywhere on her haphazardly crazy desk?

One thing was for sure. Wherever she was, Office Monster was coming back to the nest soon. I had to ditch the mail and get out, maybe anonymously. I heard footsteps and froze, other office banter shook me out of it and I dropped the mail and sprinted out expecting her to bump into me and spray me with pissed-off venom. She didn't.

I made copies at the copier. I kept a weary eye out to have a smile and overly enthused greeting ready for Office Monster. She didn't come. I will never know where the mail goes in Office Monster's office. I am pleased to announce that I did escape without any scathing glares or negative comments back to HQ where all your base are belong to us and there's a computer I can play on while my immediate boss discusses mail with HER boss, the Awkward Asshat. TA-DA day end.

mysterious ticking noise

It is three p.m.

Somewhere in this office there is something ticking. maybe dripping. I can hear it in my left ear only. I feel kindof schizoid, no one else seems to notice. Click beetle? Computer connection making an electric pulse translated as sound? It's making me edgy.

Today I also spent about an hour looking for a specific file my current office boss couldn't find. It was in the most obvious cabinet. SHe first went herself to go look in the back cabinets,crutches clicking adorably on the linoleum. when she couldnt find it, she sent me to scour the building for it. I could not manage to turn it up. She then drug herself BACK to RESEARCH the same cabinets that I had just searched. My word that the file wasn't in the filing cabinets I loaded the files into in the first place is worth nothing. We look again. This time with me standing above her awkwardly knowing it will not be found. We go back to the office storage room, only to find it nestled in among other files. Just chillin' in there. She'd missed it about four times. At least it was there period. My day would have gone a lot worse.

Today is Friday

Today I learned the secrets of SEQR, the SEQR secrets (in my head I say it phonetically, like SEE-cuor. This is improper). SEQR is related to the DEC. One must file an EIS and if it gets denied then an EAS before one can build anything anywhere within twenty miles of a wetland. Just so happens we have a lot of rare turtles to deal with. I also had to look up the importance of SEDCAR-1 forms, and IDEA allotments and the ever important SA-159 form related to IDEA funding allocations for Special Ed. They have to do with the IRS (a lot of capital letters; Google was very confused). After many hours on government websites wasting time by making handwritten cheat-sheets, I witnessed our Treasurer have a nervy collapse (audit time is coming) and went to lunch. I finished my book.

Today I untangled yards of cell phone charger cords. I sorted through a school district's years-gone-by castoff phones. I went through a hundred belt clips for said cell phones. I made the mother of all "Excel spreadsheet"s using only a pen, a legal pad and my very adept straight line drawing skills.

I also went through legal files from 1997-2002. I found several claims related to the firing and or disciplinary action of past bus drivers. Personnel Witch says, "Keep them forever. We can't ever get rid of them. It's legal it goes in YOUR department," with a matter-of-fact smugness unbecoming of a woman her size. Retention book says, "keep for only as long as is absolutely necessary in this case only what...6 years after the case is settled. Or in their personnel file." We called the lawyer and she says they should be held in their personnel file. I'm right.

Stick THAT in your file cabinet Personnel Witch.

Just thought someone needed to hear that who isn't my mom.

building use.

Dear public and teachers who use our facilities for the betterment of the younger generation,

It has come to my attention that the lot of you are lazy. When I look at the forms I am supposed to be alphabetizing, and see that in fact, the "Hyde Park Rowing Association" and "Crew" are the same thing but are filed under both C,H and R, it is beyond infuriating. I am not to put these in alpha order at all! These silly papers have been taking up my lap for three hours for nothing!

Hyde Park Little League, I understand that you are run by multiple individuals, much like Hyde Park Soccer and Lacrosse. Indeed you are a conglomerate of teams from all over the district, but if you use our fields, use your real name. None of this "HPLL" crap, this "Hyde Park LL" abbreviation business. You are not J.Lo, and your time, hate to bring this to reality, isn't worth so much that it would really pain you to take the two seconds to write out Hyde. Park. Little. League. AND THE DATE. on each and every one of your forms.

And Girls LaX. What's that you may ask? Well for all you non Lacrosse enthusiasts, it means Lacrosse. Literally, the X is the cross. Took me a while to get that one. The word Lacrosse is just so tediously long I can totally understand why you replaced half the word with a symbol. Gone all "Artist formerly known as Prince" on us. Trendy.

Sure you lazy people blame it on the illiterate Janitorial staff, but really? It's your fault. Get your shit together for next year,I don't want to have to send another nasty memo. That's for you Janet, for approving all those illegibly and improperly signed and filled out forms. Loved that blank one you signed. Seriously, woman how do you function?

Have a great day! C

sunday

For chrissakes be a better man. Do you really lose your life if you don't go out? No. Idiot. You're losing respect every time you do. Namely mine.

Random representatives of the last week:

This Morning I woke up because my cat was licking my neck.

ALSO yesterday it occurred to me that the saying "every day is a revolution" is not just pretentious hippie speak (right on man), it's actually astronomically true because the earth rotates to cause days and nights.
Rediscovered Guero on my iPod yesterday as well.

The heat has somewhat broken on the east coast, it is no longer a sauna in the house.

The ants are back.

Ate Liverwurst this week. Guilty Pleasure or good source of mystery-meat iron?

I am going to the mall with a specific goal of shoes I can wear to a wedding, I am almost positive however this objective will not be achieved.

creation of a poem

I hate when things are just too personal for your best friends to find out about.

today there was a choice of many things, getting up , going to the ceramics studio to finish the final project, painting early, finishing some waterbased media stuff. I chose: sleep.

Just woke up at ten fifty, gotta grab breakfast deliver a check go to the studio and work, then to six hours of painting class. then more work, as I have finals that need finishing. Ah the life.

I feel kind of like a bomb waiting to self destruct. I'm pretty sure I'm going to get sick as soon as my will to succeed stops powering me, I'm dizzy and nauseous all the time. Here's hoping its a stomach bug and nothing more.

April showers.

I have come to the conclusion that blogging alone is not very fun, but it does allow me to do this.

People should not have the ability to spontaneously attack you verbally because you said something you shouldn't have said, thinking you were being helpful. They should not be able to throw things on the ground while yelling, ("I wasn't yelling, did you think I was yelling at you?" DEFINITION YELLING: RAISED VOICE, a.k.a. yes you were yelling bitch)about how they aren't going to turn this in,*drops on ground* and shooting off casual little snips to make it personal, blowing your argument for them to calm THE FUCK DOWN out of proportion and the water simultaneously (though they claim later that it wasn't anything to do with YOU personally).

WELL. To the woman who gave me that queasy my-personal-space-has-been-violated feeling yesterday for an ENTIRE DAY and made me cry though I was neither angry nor sad, YOU ARE TOO TENSE and a bitch. I hope everything you work on collapses and you never have a good clay day again.

I would wish upon you that your stubbornness be your end, and that nothing you ever do be perfect enough and so consume you in a ball of self hatred and eternal frustration, but I will assume those particular insults are self fulfilling given the way you exploded like Mt. St. Helen in my face.

And now back to the scene of the crime because I have homework that is very specific in ceramics and there is only one place on this campus with a wheel I can work on.

And in volly to that horrid quip, Yes, why DON'T you come and paint next to me? I am a FUCKING PAINTER. I will paint your ceramic ass into the ground until you feel like the mud that cerulean and umber with a touch of pthalo green make and you in turn for your major, play with.

THE END.

nothin new going on

I had a dream that I was being attacked by wasps that looked like butterflies.

Well, they looked like butterflies to everyone else. To me they looked like wasps. Big ones that stung me. Curiously, the stings didn't really sting; it was more like a sharp, then slow burn. but no one seemed upset about them. They were only stinging me, but in this weird...They'd drift over to me, sit all delicately and daintily on my hands, and I'd look at them going, wow you're new and majestic! Its response to that silent private thought each time was to sting my hands on the fingertips or the skin by my thumb.

Oddly enough, Brennen had a dream about bees on vacation the night I couldn't sleep because Boyfriend and Bren woke me up talking about Sea World. He was murmuring and grunting and rolling over frantically for a good amount of time. He was dreaming about bees he said the next day. Boyfriend dreamed about bees too, just before we left for vacation.

I being the curious mofo I am went to the nets to find out what dreaming about bees means, because I haven't been able to get the dream out of my head. I got this:

"To dream of being stung by a wasp may be evidence of painful emotions or being stung by the remarks of others. If you are not stung, it is a sign of victory over your troubles."

"Being stung, such as by an insect, can represent a feeling or fear of being attacked or acted on in a negative way in real life—physically, mentally, or emotionally;Being overburdened by external circumstances; Betrayal, intrusion, or someone crossing your personal boundaries or taking advantage of you"

"This insect is capable of stinging and hurting you, it may denote, when seen in dreams, something or someone that can bring you misfortune and bad luck. If the wasp in your dream manages to sting you, this means that you have faced or are going to face obstacles and problems in your waking life."

"To see a wasp in you dream, signifies angry thoughts and feelings. To dream that you are stung by a wasp, symbolizes growing envy and hatred towards you."

Pretty negative feedback from the nets, right? OK so being stung by a wasp has to do with being overwhelmed and misfortune either occurring or coming soon. Also envy, and hatred. other angry emotions. Now, let us investigate the fact that everyone else in the dream, including Boyfriend, saw the wasps as butterflies. They were all going on about how delicate and pretty they were. They didn't feel threatened by them at all, and they didn't get stung (none of them even landed on the other people). what about butterflies? what do they mean?

"The bigger and more beautiful the butterfly, the more of an impression you will make on society, or at a special function that you must attend. Use the other symbols in your dream to get you on the right track." (also a blurb about the need to settle down and stop flitting from person to person. Which I don't do...and neither does Boyfriend.)

"butterflies traditionally denote a change either occurring or coming soon. they are sometimes considered to be a sign of changes outside of your control due to their affiliation with both chaos and death."

"To see a butterfly in your dream, denotes your need to settle down. Butterflies signify creativity, romance, joy and spirituality. You may be experiencing a transformation into a new way of thinking. Or you may be undergoing a transitional phase. Alternatively, consider the term "social butterfly" to describe someone who is popular and outgoing. Does this describe you? Perhaps you need to be more outgoing."

This is interesting, because the only correlation I can see here is that change is coming and it's in the form of a huge and rocky precipice for me, while others see it as a good thing. Which is scary. Perhaps in the dream they saw the greatness and the impression on society, the positive, and I saw the jealousy, envy and darkness, and was therefore stung. Very appropriate considering how I spent most of my vacation wallowing in misery, and have since forgotten two meetings with teachers. Being Lazy makes life overwhelming and I have felt very overwhelmed lately. Still the wasp sting/ butterfly correlation is odd. I also remember not saying anything about being stung because no one else seemed to notice. Then I woke up.

vacation from hell.

Just got back from Florida. Sunny Florida. And what was possible the worst, least relaxing vacation I have ever had the opportunity to endure.

Had my boyfriend woken up with me each day and gone somewhere, we reflected later in hindsight, it would not have been as bad as waiting until three for the family we were with to NOT decide where we were going, pile in the car for anywhere between one to three hours of perilous driving on Orlando's many scenic highways, to end up at a begrudgingly decided location. Once we were at said location, be it Epcot, a restaurant, the host family's mom gladly paid for our tickets and meals (much obliged host family.) The host family's children were whiny and mopey and didn't want to do anything. (They were also adults who are perfectly capable of having their asses left behind if they were not cooperative enough, but that didn't happen. not once.)

WE drag the host family's children around for maybe three to five hours maximum before we leave the place that we paid good money to go to. WE go back to the hotel. We then decide to go out for dinner, because it is now about eight o'clock. AN hour discussion ensues in which we cannot decide where to go to dinner. They don't want to go where I want to go, but they don't know where they want to go or have no opinion whatsoever but glare at my suggestions. We get in the van with no destination as before.

WE find a restaurant and return home not totally satisfied. Boyfriend and host son drag me to the pool until 11 p.m. Then I returned burned out from the stress of the day to want to sleep, but instead stay awake talking or watching them play computer games until about an hour and a half after my desired bedtime and way after my patience has ran out. The next morning I rise at around ten, and wait for everyone else to get up for three to five hours. It is vacation hell. I am glad t obe coming home. Bonus points on Friday for having the other host son get bombed on stolen alcohol and rest his giant ass under-aged body on the foot of my bed refusing to leave for an hour or so, at three a.m. AND the scene where Boyfriend and Host Son went out for pizza at 1:30 without waking me up, only to return at three and have a loud conversation waking me up. They then proceeded to sleep like babies the rest of the night while I remained awake boiling with fury and not being able to fall back asleep until the not so wee hours.

On coming home: Waited on United Airways planes for 14 hours on Saturday. Trust me, even if it's more money, don't fly with them.

ALSO

the day before we left Manch, I was walking through the park; the snow had melted. I fund a totally new barely used pot of tan DCT lip balm, the kind I had lost the previous week of my illness. I am sure it was mine, but I put it on a bench anyway.

Vanishing Chapstik

Approximately twelve hours ago, walking in the rain and sick, I went into a CVS. Items on me with pockets were my coat, my scarf with pockets on the ends, and a pair of jeans. I was carrying a purple canvas bag, with screen printed sneakers on it. I have had it since my youth. It has been filled with many things. These days it is filled with my tools for ceramics.

While at this CVS, I walked around the Cold Remedy isle. That's actually what it says on the placard above the isle, Cold Remedies. I stare at the great expanse of cold remedies. There are ones you drink, magical elixars hat make your head feel attached again. There are nose sprays that if used for more then three days make you lose your sense of smell. There are organic natural remedies; suckables, chewables, swallowables- ahh yes. DayQuil. Mine sworn enemy. The one that makes my friend sarah super high and giggly. I pick up a box of the orange stuff and proceed to check out.

Whil at the register, being one of three customers in the whole store (it's a rainy friday, can't blame them all) I spy a Blistex pot of lip balm. The blue mentholated kind. The kind that burns. I ask if they have the kind in the Tan pot, the still mentholated but much more palatable kind, and the young woman kindly fetches me one from the next register over.

I walk out, put it on my nose, and take my first breath of fresh air in two days. The Menthol jumps up my nose clears out my head, and the world is sunny. Except that it is still raining and by now I am wet.

I take a DayQuil and forget my troubles for many hours, which I while away making bowls and glazing mugs in the ceramics studio.

It is now 11:15. My head is full of mucus. I am on cold medicine, and can still not breathe. I am looking for my awesome imitation Vick's Blistex DCT lip balm. Because it will make me breathe like a champ.

I cannot find it. It is not in my coat pockets. It is not in my bag, having emptied it out three times of its meager contents I am sure. It is not in the pockets of the scarf, and though I have checked the pants many times it is not there either. It has vanished into thin air.

I call my boyfriend. He does not have it. Of course. He put some on his nose too, he could have had it; it would have been logical. BUT NO. It has vanished into thin air. Which means that in just barely 12 hours, I spent some of the little money I have on it, I used it once, and I lost it to the world.

It's probably chilling with all the lost socks in some sick universe of lost things. SICK I SAY. The most sick thing is that i still have this awful chapstick I got for free from the college fair...three years ago. But the DCT lip balm is gone. Of Course.

Soul satisfying

There is nothing so sinfully soul satisfying as seeing someone you are angry with look fat and short in a dress on a website that all your friends can also see. And after that little gem? Oreos dipped in milk. Yes, the snow may be snowing and the wind may be blowing but my heart is warm with empty trans-fats and malicious intent.

I feel that I should relax now, I should meditate. I need to decide who to tell a story about for my final in storytelling. It would be wonderful to tell with an accent of some sort. Maybe Mary Baker Eddy, because I know a little bit about her. I think it would be fun to do my friend Corina's mom, because Corina's her daughter and she's amazing. As an adult only twenty or so years older than me, she has accomplished so much and stayed so young in all the right ways. Her mother is a fiber artist, who engineers artworks like quilts; except to call them quilts is an insult to what they are and how much artistic work other than the actual stitching really goes into them.

I need to find an artist, or someone wonderful and tell about them. they need to be interesting, and they need to inspire me. It would be wonderful to tell about my grandparents lives or their parents.

Well the oreos are almost all gone, so it's time to go lay down a self portrait.

Dream

I had a dream with Steve-o in it as the villian. I think it was a mix of carbs, Sin City, and TLC.com/LA Ink photogallery. Although reading battle scenes right before bed probably didn't help either. It was complete with homework drama, explosions, Fanciful godlike creatures a la American Gods style (rock the Neil Gaimen), and of course, a knight from A Clash of Kings. (It's a good book, a dwarf just led an army into a sortie where they will most assuredly die. I haven't gotten to the part where they all do die yet, but I am assured by the past events of the book and the specific battle that they will all in fact perish. Except the dwarf. He is a main character, and as such is safe from any main injury. WOOT.)

I have work to do, but I spent an hour turning the dream into a short story. Its surprisingly true to the dream. I filled in the plot points and it just worked in an abstracted kind of epic way. Where some stuff is unexplained, I had to put in parts explaining it though.

Today

Today my ex-choir teacher's husband died. It was an epic decision whether to send flowers, to not send flowers. My mother suggested fruit. I think...I will send fruit. I will put Robbie's and Sarah's names on it as well as mine, as it has been decided that group condolences are always more convenient. Now to find out what should be said; it should be non cheesy, uplifting, not denoting pity but giving sympathy. It should be something important.

"You were really important to all of us as we grew from children into women. Our sympathies in this difficult time, and here is a healthy alternative to flowers to ease your pain." HMmmmmm probably not gonna cut it.

ancient man's skinny secrets.

Today:

I watched a short, well versed weight loss video that was obnoxiously floating in my side bar while I was reading things on The Frisky (awesome site).

In golden soothing tones, this man claims that to get rid of a little belly fat every day, there is one golden secret. BUT FIRST, he asks us to think on what ancient man ate. He then wonders aloud, "Were you thinking that ancient man ate many vegetables and rice and fruits back in the day?" and you're thinking, no I have always learned that he lived on a steady diet of mammoth meat and sex alone. I mean not to mention more running around than an olympic runner, the hunting and gathering, the building then taking down then REbuilding of the huts; the fact that everyone had to CARRY their own houses, because they hadn't gotten horses yet.... and as you're trying to remember exactly what it was that they DID eat... he tells you.

He starts with, "They ate meat and fat," (duh) "because veggies and fruits and seeds weren't always in season"/around geographically. And just when you're thinking, "PEOPLE DIED by eating only meat on the Atkins diet! Asinine NIMROD!"--he goes on to say that they had VARIETY in their diets. "Never the same thing twice or the same amount of calories in any two days...In fact"--I shut it off then. Because not only did I learn that info in my Nutrition class last summer, but it's pretty much common sense and practice. You try eating the same amount of calories everyday when one day has nine hours of class and extra-curriculars and the next day has wide open homework/snacking and tea time. One day I demolish a package of white chocolate macadamia nut cookies and half a pound of pasta topped with empty calories in two hours, the next day I'm lucky to get a sandwich anywhere remotely near "lunchtime." Ah the perils of being a student. All this leads me to believe that the ten to fifteen I've put on since school began three years ago is stress related. SO. off to the Yoga sites.

I'm knoshing on crackers and cheese for breakfast left over from the gallery opening. I was also blessed with a bottle of juice of which about a quarter is now left.

This weekend I need to think on my life story...I have to tell it on tuesday to a room of semi strangers. although I've actually lived with some of them, I never really got to know them, so they don't quite count as friends. I still don't know where it should start.

I need to begin painting the epic that is Painting 5 homework, two 30x30 canvases, and go to the ceramics studio to throw 15 shaped cylinders on the wheel. I need to trip over to the Printmaking Studio and clear out my drawer because the teachers need to use it for prospective students.

I should finish the print I began in September. It's slightly badass, it's just not done yet. It needs work. Maybe that's where I should go first, to clean out the drawer and get me away from the situation of me sitting in my underwear and looking at the park from my window, alternately staring at my computer. There's cool things on it.

I think I'm going to go eat some cereal.

Today....

Today I checked someone for a concussion who fell on the ice outside the Main Building. Almost having garnered one for myself several times today, I was just glad it wasn't me.

So today was my day to arrange the gallery opening for the Mt. Washington exhibit. I arranged for the food, Washed the table cloths, Gathered my followers, et cetra. So when I showed up (late as usual) to the Gallery opening I was running and the food wasn't there, I panicked. I walked all the way across campus to Student Services, the head of which was supposed to be getting my food. Nobody's home there. While I was panicking and calling people, the food was dropped off in my absence and set up by my friends. The whole thing went off without a hitch, and during the Opening that I ran, I did absolutely nothing. Well, I cleaned up.

Then I showed up ten minutes late to my first class because I was cleaning up from the opening, and pitched my idea for my Painting 5 Diptych. My idea is to do the underside of a Jade plant, as if we were standing on the table looking up at a window through the Jade plant, like it was a tree. I only have baby Jades, but they'll do. My teacher has jade plants of his very own, so he identified with it immediately. I am also one of two people not doing a portrait or a figure in this class. Simple wins, I swear. I am doing a contrast of day and night on the same picture, since we had to use the same image twice.

Then I ran all over god's creation hanging up posters for the show that's coming up next month. I made them, had them approved, but seriously must I hang them myself? There's a gallery Committee, not just me. It took about an hour and a half, and I climbed enough stairs to make my gluts hurt, and was awkwardly stared at by a thousand freshmen as time after time I magically appeared in their common areas toting highlighted pieces of paper. This experience taught me two things:

1. My all access RA Key does not get me into two of the school's buildings, one of which is a dorm. In case of an emergency I am supposed to be able to get into all buildings at all times.
2. My boyfriend resents his niceness. He drove a girl to the pharmacy to get her meds today, and the wait was very long. When he dropped her off I happened to be hanging posters in her dorm. So he waited for me, and then on the way home, complained about her incessant chatter while they were waiting for the meds.

That was all for today.

Irony?

Today it snowed. In fact, it was not only snowing, it was still snowing. As in, since the night before. I struggled to lift my short legs above the deep snow of the non shoveled sidewalk while I carried my heavy bags full of painting supplies, because the people who own the Church are oh so considerate, when I came to the street unexpectedly. Looking down at your footing can do that to you. Crossing this particular street is never fun, because the lights aren't timed well. There's never a time when there aren't cars hurtling at you.

I know the law says that people in NH are supposed to yield to pedestrians, but people in NH have never looked kindly upon "The Man" and his rules. for that reason, I look both ways. After a tiny silver hundai passes me, the road is clear, so I step out gingerly, not wanting to slip out into "traffic" and become a road waffle. As I near the middle of the street, I hear the familiar rev of an engine gunning for it.

Looking up expecting to see some jackass teenager in an SUV who cut fourth period, I spy a most curious sight. A Hearse is flying at me at about 40 miles per hour, on a City Street, in the middle of a snowstorm. A snowstorm people. So I do the sensible thing and stand in the middle of the street wondering if this is an Omen? a Sign?

As I ran from the street and got mercilessly splashed by a wave of nasty dirt flavored slush, I wondered one final thought before I started to freeze in sincerity; If a Hearse hits someone and kills them, is it bad or good for business?

Day One

Hello No-one. I am playing with the colors on this blog instead of doing my Waterbased Media homework.

It started because I am taking a Storytelling class, and I need to keep a journal for it. Nothing deep and touching, just about ideas and class experiences. SO I was thinking, thousands of other people have blogs and blog about their dumb ideas, why not me? I have thoughts. Right now the foremost thought of mine is that the girls I RA for are being very loud for after quiet hours.

I was thinking about stories and about how we really become our own beings when we start having stories of our own, and stop being our mother's stories. We've all heard those stories from our mothers; mine's about how my amniotic fluid DESTROYED an Obstetrician's pair of new shoes, because I was two weeks late and thus my amniotic fluid was incredibly gross and rife with unpleasantness.

That is one of my favorite stories. Who am I to tell it though? I wasn't there, I was, but I wasn't. I don't remember it at all, I wasn't technically even born yet, so it isn't really MY story to tell, no matter how grand an entrance I made. So I believe that the day we stop being infants and babies that live only in their mothers' tales, indeed the day we start being people is when we begin having our own stories to tell.