What I am thinking about right now

Right in this very moment.  Bam!  Instantaneous.

I feel a little odd right now.  Not sure why.

Yesterday I sent texts to a bunch of people who I hadn't talked to in a while, saying hi.  If you were the recipient of one of these texts, hey!  We should hang out.

Nothing if not awkward.

I am thinking somewhat seriously about switching my major to sculpture.  It doesn't involve drafting, I hear.  But the idea of working as an actual fine artist scares the bejezus out of me because, um, duh.  I'm not self motivated at all.  I probably would need to have a job of some sort. Like a go to work and work for someone kind of job.

I have things that I am needing to concentrate on that I am also freaking out about.  I have an art history test on thursday.  It requires dates.  This is a major problem.  Out of all the AP history classes (Euro, US, Gov) I took in high school, I learned and remember one date.  October 31, 1517.  I am probably maybe going to fail this whole thing.

I have crit today, for 3D design.  I'm pretty okay with my pieces, I'm not sure how everyone else has done.  The only other person whose stuff I've seen...well, if everyone else is like that, I'll be totally fine.   Their stuff kind of sucked, and this was Sunday night.  I spent all day Sunday and a good part of the day on Saturday working on these things.  I took pictures.  I'll post the pictures, eventually.

I have design drawing next.  I might fail design drawing.  I'm not doing so hot this semester, and I'm not really sure why.  probably because it involves a lot of ellipses.  Sometimes circles too.

Robert tells me that I am a special little snowflake, and I know that it's a fact.  He's going to get a job so that he can buy more graphic novels.

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(Minipost)

Between a tweet and a blog post, right.

I'm fairly certain that at some point in time, I've mentioned my obsessive, ginormous, unending crush on Chris Colfer.  His movie is coming out this summer.  I am excited, to say the least.



You're welcome.

I don't think I've mentioned it here before, but I'm a student editor at my school's literary journal.  It's very big and exciting.  Today was the first time that I received actual stories to make actual decisions about.  I felt very....Carsonesque, but I didn't even have to blackmail anyone.  It's kind of odd, to be making decisions like this.  I know that most of these people aren't aiming to be professional writers, so I feel like whatever I do, I want to be encouraging and nice, but I don't quite know where we're setting the quality bar.  The things that I've read certianly aren't the best pieces of writing on the planet, but they don't totally suck either, and I don't know how to decide this without seeming like a pretentious ass who thinks the literary journal is a far bigger thing than it really is.

YUP.

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What I did with my Friday

Guys.  I have Fridays off of school and work and responsibility.  This is not a particularly new development, but today I did things worth talking about.  I woke up relatively early.  I texted my friend, who I'd made plans with earlier in the week.  Plans, still on.  I got my lazy butt out of bed at 9:15 and got myself into the car to pick up a friend of mine for fun! exciting! things!  We went to Wolfgang's for breakfast, which was awesome.  And then, after a quick detour back home to pick up my student ID, we went to the GRAM.
The GRAM is exactly like the DIA, except it's collection isn't as good and it costs a dollar more to get in.  And the building is new, instead of the fairly fantastic mashup of additions of time and space that the DIA consists of.  Today's visit had a Purpose (it's the little flame/that lights a fire under your ass).  We have to write essays.  For Art History.  About Rauschenberg.  He's a big deal, apparently.  And I don't think he's dead.  I should probably find out if he's dead or not before I turn my essay in.  These essays, apparently, are a big deal.  It's hard to express your thoughts in writing.  You should take notes and write an outline and then write your essay and rewrite and edit it.  This is what my professor has said.
How did all of us make it to college without writing an essay?  I mean, I'm speaking for others, maybe.  I've written an essay or two (or a million and a half, hey there APs!)

Really though, I do know how to write.  And not like a total idiot either.  We aim for 45% idiot, 50% normal human being, and 5% strange facial expressions and dinosaur noises.

I mean, I'm Literary.  With a capital L.

I like Instagram, despite all the hipster-who-thinks-they're-a-talented-photographer-stigma.

I had been thinking about taking some different classes next fall, if I can't publish a book and make all my dreams come true stay in school.  Printmaking is very high on the list.  Sculpture.  Industrial Design.  I need to get better at using the computer.  Apparently it has things other than twitter?  Who knew?  

I've heard of a class called "Digital Foundations" which may be something along the lines of what I need.  Also, CAD and Rhino, which do things mystical and unbeknownst to me.  I could take initiative and make these things, um, knownst to me.  Or something.

After the Rauschenberg, we talked for a while about the universe and how it is positively falling apart nearly constantly and also about how I have not read Jane Eyre.  Personal fault, I admit it.

And then I made soup.  Soup!  I should've chopped the onions smaller.

And then I thought that there was going to be this really great speaker at the GRAM, but it actually sucked, so I dragged my roomateboyfriend there for no reason.  Poop.  

And then I doodled.

Also, you should check out Rookie, FYTattoos, and The Mind Experience (this is much cooler if you are me than if you are, like, anyone else in the universe, but bear with me) and you might like them.  Or you might not.  I know that I was wasting time there today, and having fun with it.

My SUPER EXCITING VERY TOP SECRET GREAT AMAZING PROJECT will be revealed VERY SOON.  Dudes.  Be excited.

BUT FIRST, let's talk about something else.  Two different people pointed out my horrible accent to me today.  Maybe it's an upper midwestern thing, maybe it's a me thing, I dunno.  All I know is that, sometimes...



I love all y'all.  G'night.

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Quote of the Month

"I mean, to be honest, I’ve never even really understood the war between nerds and popular people. Like, who do…who do…who do you guys got? ‘Umm…we’ve got George W. Bush and, like, Tom Brady.’ Oh, okay. Well, I see your George W. Bush with Bill Clinton, and I raise you an Abraham Lincoln and a Franklin Delano Roosevelt. And, I can easily see your Tom Brady with the thinking man’s football player, Tiki Barber, and I think I can raise you, hmmm, an Isaac Newton, a William Shakespeare, a Blaise Pascal, an Albert Einstein, an Immanuel Kant, an Aristotle, a Jane Austen, a Bill Gates, a Mahatma Ghandi, a Nelson Mandela, and all four Beatles. We win."
John Green

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Fiction Friday

I'm not dead, I'm just falling a bit, for a while.  Becoming disconnected, becoming human again.
Someone once told me that drowning was like coming home.

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