the F//B

On a New Life With Infinite Time

2011-04-05T15:48:00.000-07:00

Montana has afforded us both with a huge change of pace and lifestyle—in short, an entirely new life. Jared works at a local microbrewery, just a 20-mile lakeside drive away. He was hired as a part-time bartender four months ago, which quickly turned into full-time, and has now morphed into a position as assistant brewer. He’s learning the tricks of the trade from the master brewer, which, to his slight dismay, mostly involves an intimate knowledge of chemistry and math. But this is his dream job, and, to our great delight, it has the distinct possibility of turning into a lifetime career.

And I, by chance, now work as a freelance writer. I’ve always wanted to work from home and have lots of extra time, so this also seems like a dream come true. I end up working maybe a week or two per month, which means that I have copious periods of time to devote to absolutely anything I want. What I’ve actually discovered from all this freedom is that sloth is one of my biggest vices. Instead of making art, I sleep in every day. I spend my time cleaning and reading more than I have since childhood. Not to say that’s a bad thing. I remember writing a friend about a year and a half ago, still overwhelmed by my intensely demanding job of the time, and telling her of my greatest wish: to sit on a couch all day, and read and watch movies. So I got what I wished for. But it seems empty.

I justify my lack of activity by maintaining that our 300 square foot apartment doesn’t afford any extra space for art making. Which is true. But it’s also just a good excuse for me to distance myself from my fears. To live in quiet denial. Because to start making art again would mean embracing a way of life that I abandoned two years ago. It would mean allowing myself to enter in vulnerability. It would mean giving myself permission to make absolute crap. Or, even more terrifying, it would mean allowing myself to possibly create something beautiful and inspired. Ultimately, it would mean giving up control, submitting myself to the Greater. Which, I think, is what I fear the most.

Cha-cha-cha-cha-changes

2011-03-30T16:15:00.000-07:00

I have, characteristically and once again, been absent for almost a year. In which many changes have happened. Of which the main one is, I now live in Montana. Here is a good summary, by way of my website:

A recent college graduate with a BFA in studio art, C.Hanlon decided to quit her job, pack up everything she owns, including her husband and cat, and move from Los Angeles to small-town Montana. Biding her time before Graduate school, she is looking for a day job and making art as a defense mechanism, specializing in fiber based sculptures and general enigmatic reclusion.

Except that I haven't been making much art lately, and am not really looking for a day job anymore as I have fairly recently taken up freelance writing as my new profession. Small town life suits us well, and we are certainly enjoying our beautiful surroundings. Winter has been long but bearable, and we survived without any adverse side affects -- contrary to popular opinion and forecast. Spring is filtering in now, and our days alternate between beautiful and cloudless, and rainy and overcast. Today, unfortunately, is the latter, and the rest of the week promises to be so as well.

We have added a new cat to our little family. She goes by Mrs. B (inspired by Beatrice Potter), as she tends toward a stocky, British demeanor. Fhloston Paradise is still with us, and resents her new housemate less and less these days. I rejoice in their daily accomplishments.

Here they dare to touch paws.

2010-06-28T10:36:00.000-07:00

I am considering getting the Cherubic hymn tattooed on my forearm:

We who mystically represent the cherubim and sing the thrice-holy hymn to the live giving trinity, let us now lay aside all earthy cares, that we may receive the King of All who comes invisibly upbourne by the angelic hosts.

CHERUBIM and SERAPHIM

St. Ignatius Brianchaninov

2010-06-28T10:22:00.000-07:00

And when trials beset you, comfort and fortify your soul by saying to it: Shall I not drink the cup which the father has given me? The Chalice is bitter. One has merely to glance at it, and all human calculations vanish.

Substitute faith for calculation, and courageously drink the bitter cup. It is the all-good and all-wise Father Who gives it to you.

It was not Pharisees, of Caiaphas, or Judas who prepared it. It is not Pilate and his soldiers who give it. Shall I not drink the cup which the Father has given Me?

The Pharisees plot, Judas betrays, Pilate orders the iniquitous murder, the governor’s soldiers perform it. By their evildoings they all prepared for themselves certain perdition.

Do not prepare for yourself perdition equally certain by animosity and resentment, by desiring and planning revenge, by being indignant and angry with your enemies.

---St. Ignatius Brianchaninov

Meet the solicitor

2010-06-23T12:45:00.000-07:00

Anyone that has probably ever talked to me knows that my job is a less than ideal situation. It's not a fact that I conceal. I rarely, however, go into detail about why it's so abhorred, mainly out of mercy for the listener. If I find my work painfully boring, no doubt hearing about it second hand would put anyone to sleep almost instantly. Today, though, prepare yourself. I'm about to divulge.

Being the only employee besides the two Mexican guys that work in the warehouse, I get to wear a lot of hats here at the office. My official title is "administrative assistant," but the bulk of my job is customer service via the phone line, and everything that goes along with that: order processing, return processing, placating the angry, serving the every need of the salesman, etc. However, I am also required to do anything and everything my 3 bosses might require of me. This includes a lot of email drafting and interpreting (foreign vendors are almost impossible to communicate with), a lot of filing, and a smattering of inventory updating, invoicing, shipping, writing collections letters, and sometimes even working in the warehouse. I also design and email fliers on a regular basis.

Then on top of these every day tasks, my bosses, because they care naught for me, look for more things that I could do. Like upgrading their customer/inventory software to a version that was incompatible with the old one. Which meant that each customer file, each garment, every piece of inventory -- forty years worth of records -- had to be entered individually into the new system by yours truly within a matter of days. That was last month.

This month they decided to update the website. They switched providers and domain names and started off with a clean slate. So guess who's populating the new website with the hundreds of garments they've been importing for the past few decades. That's right. No training in website maintenance did they offer me. They just said, do this asap, and I said, bloody hell, but not to them.

So yesterday as I was getting ready to leave my main boss asks me if I've called the list of 5 regular customers she'd given me to solicit for re-orders. Yes, I have, but none of them need new merchandise right now. Ok, she says, sales are way down lately and that means you have to start calling ALL of our customers to see if they will place orders.

Ok. ...

Which means that today I am a fully fledged solicitor. Or saleswoman, I guess. Earlier I made a list of every customer that 1) bought from us last year, and 2) is worthy of soliciting, and have proceeded to call and/or email 47 of the 234 on said list.

Suffice it to say, I am not looking forward to the next few weeks at work.

Thursdays seem to be hard for me

2010-06-10T09:13:00.000-07:00

These days have been endless ones. How does the passing week manage to be quick when each day still seems such a chore?

While in school I felt the immanent and dangerous possibility of becoming a creature ruled by habit. Back then the days were marked with the flux of changes and uncertainty, and I clung to my routines as a means of staying sane and grounded. Since graduating to adulthood, even in this short year since then, I've become calcified in my routine. Every day I wake at the same time, make the same coffee and sandwich, drive the same 12 minutes on the same two streets to work, and work the same eight hours that I've been working for the past year. Now instead of leaving me feeling secure, I get itchy at the thought of another week, and another week after, and another week after that, stretching on into the infinity of my adulthood.

I realize that structure is necessary, especially for me, and it's not hard for me to find beauty in driving those same five miles every day. But balance has never been an easy concept, and my wholehearted enthusiasm is often outweighed by pragmatism. And when pragmatism becomes paired with and colored by habit, it's then that I find myself prickly and prone to escapism.

It's Thursday again and I'm tired.

2010-05-28T11:08:00.000-07:00

I love getting spam emails. The bottom paragraph is sometimes has a string of unrelated words that might once have been part of a story... who knows. But I think it's great:

Subject line: very proud and disdainful, an I really b

children to their lessons, which were happily always supposed to begin
later on a Monday than on any other day of the week. The study door

Subject line: ugmy pham vfahv fsfw ieha

hab gmy positphamion
vfahvthe fsfpart
you xieh by kkofo
youubpme xegfrom tvjbtart.
Illbeqvoa beqdqfore ynrov.
belhqha pounceugmpony.
thisrphceremony
muv filahvlsmy fsf.
a punxiehch toy vokkofolunteer kubpnee.
is xegalu wavjbnt tohqvoaear
aqdqnd aynrovyou wlhqhasee.

Subject line: birthday girl... -23-

ftexploring 0k ic singly Tec superconductivitystacksiopSUST
The change t the structure f the syllabus has allwed the structure f the examinatin t be simplified. There are fur sectins t the examinatin, crrespnding t the fur parts f the HSC curse. All students will cmplete the cre questins in Sectin I, and students will answer questins relating t the ptins they studied in Sectins II, III, and IV. Each sectin f the examinatin is wrth 25 marks.
The lectures follow chronological and thematic considerations so that it will be easier for the students. The chronology will serve as Adriane s clew as we go deeper in the analysis. We will start at the end of the 19th century as it is the crucial time of changes. This is an arbitrary choice and others could legitimately make some other choices. Within 13 weeks we will put the emphasis on studying the 20th century. It is already part of history and rich enough for our class. Another advantage of concentrating on this period of time is that there are some people still alive, so we will rely on oral history, meaning accounts of people who went through the events we study in class.
Russian environmental legislation consists of numerous federal and regional regulations which often contradict one another and cannot be

Subject line: Become VVIP

reformist officer Genmyname is a Ytion of Pakistan into a stable nonthreatening
in i u ion andideal mu includeallof he ubjec ma erelemen iden ifiedin he
leftha islaborioustaskA just owwhe Iamsuppose to o

(These last 3 are my favorites)

Subject line: Attentionn!

Of what had taken place on the acropolis at sunset, which
they were all humorously cognizant. Myriad an accident.
gertrud is slightly more affected. Rung. Leyden. And you,
too, would be a soldier, when i became yours. If these conditions
are too.

Subject line: worlld crisis

Along with the bhojas and andhakas and kukuras became manifest
that, in the long run, the colonel any emergency. She no
longer felt any fears for bhishma, the son of santanu, then,
o king, proceeded ourselves on the offchance of selling.
rainey.

Subject line: Do you love?

Luxury of not asking why, hugh dear, what do you customs.
during my recent christmas sojourn at was so good in the
restoration of his sight, to she has not yet recovered her
equanimity on the from the facts in a parallel case. I know
human.

Darn

2010-05-27T15:57:00.001-07:00

New favorite tights from J.Crew, got a run today, second time wearing them. Maybe that's why they were marked down to $2.99. What a bummer.

2010-05-20T10:52:00.000-07:00

Today, Thursday seems incredibly depressing. The thought of slugging through the rest of the day, plus another one seems too daunting. This week has been a slow one, laden with skipped lunches and snipey bickering, tired nights and even sleepier mornings. I'm jealous of certain people that get to take days off when they get tired, and I'm tired of the endless progression of days. I deeply resent those brilliant people that seem to do everything effortlessly, whose blogs or studios or lives, even, are pristine spreads of proliferation and beauty or wit. My work, when I make it, speaks of struggle; it's hardly a testament of proliferative creation. And though I want to make beautiful things, I usually end up making dinner instead.

Workplace inspirations

2010-05-19T10:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes even work can spark my attention, like this mysterious fax we recieved today, or the unexpected inside of an envelope.

(it reads: May 18 10 06:08p p. 2 ,
and at the bottom is that strange rear-view mirror shape. I am really curious about how this happened.)

Because sometimes the small things are the most delightful.

Adulthood isn't all it's cracked up to be

2010-05-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

Certain people have become such good writers that I am less and less inclined to share my daily musings, and more inclined, instead, to revert to childhood and create a montage of myself devouring my strawberry sweater. But such is life.

Mornings

2010-05-14T11:01:00.000-07:00

These days I've been rising at an unheard of 7:30, a full hour and a half before I have to be at work. My parents, if they read this, would scoff. Usually I loathe waking up, be it 7:30 or 10 in the morning, but lately it's felt like a nice change of pace. If I'm lucky, the husband who leaves for work earlier than I will have left me coffee, waiting kindly in a thermos. I water my three plants that sit on a kitchen windowsill, drink the coffee leisurely, maybe read a little poetry. Usually ignore the cat.

This morning I was sitting on the couch in a generous pool of sunlight, coffee in hand, considering reading some Robert Bly; meow-meister curled up beside me, unusually silent and enjoying the sun. I absently put my hand on her still-shorn stomach, and must have nudged her tail on the way, because she proceeded to attack it like a foreign object she had never seen before.

So far that's been the highlight of my day.

GOOD

2010-05-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

The Envoy
by Jane Hirshfield

One day in that room, a small rat.
Two days later, a snake.

Who, seeing me enter,
whipped the long stripe of his
body under the bed,
then curled like a docile house-pet.

I don't know how either came or left.
Later, the flashlight found nothing.

For a year I watched
as something--terror? happiness? grief?--
entered and then left my body.

Not knowing how it came in.
Not knowing how it went out.

It hung where words could not reach it.
It slept where light could not go.
Its scent was neither snake nor rat,
neither sensualist nor ascetic.

There are openings in our lives
of which we know nothing.

Through them
the belled herds travel at will,
long-legged and thirsty, covered with foreign dust.

On feeling more grown up than ever before

2010-05-12T09:42:00.000-07:00

After a what felt like much longer than a week of moving, we succeeded in hauling our multitudinous piles of junk four miles down the road, and have happily settled in what seems like a different land altogether: Fullerton. The last box has been unpacked, and though there are still little piles of homeless objects clustered around the new terrain, the to-do list is quickly dwindling. It feels good to live in a place where groceries or an evening drink are only a walk away down our lovely tree lined street.

Our house is almost 90 years old. It's part of a 3-unit building, but we have our own mailbox and the address is delightfully sans-apartment-number. There is no dishwasher or garbage disposal; when you want to go outside you can choose between three doors (living room, kitchen or bedroom).

We also have our own garage, a tiny little one-car affair that my thoughtful husband voluntarily turned into a studio space for me. Carpet and all. For the first time in a year I have an area to spread my mysteriously inspiring odds and ends, a place that is soley for creating -- or just siting and thinking, which is sometimes just as important. Last night I slipped out there for a couple of hours that disappeared almost instantly, and I feel more refreshed than I have in a long time.

Darn

2010-04-26T10:38:00.001-07:00

I've realized that having short hair necessitates a monthly haircut. Shoot, goodbye annual haircuts. I'll miss you. So will my pocketbook.

Deathday party

2010-04-23T10:22:00.000-07:00

It's going down tonight. I am baking pies and will resemble this picture in some way:

Notice the palor and general ghostliness. Not quite sure yet how the dark mark will be attached to my person.

24 !!!

2010-04-22T09:58:00.000-07:00

Today my darling husband turns 24 years old, which sounds dreadfully mid-twenties and approaching 30's to me.

Happy Birthday love!

Delicious

2010-04-21T10:26:00.000-07:00

Pastrami, cheddar, bread & butter pickles, lettuce, mustard & mayo on whole wheat bread. My new favorite lunch.

DO NOT try making a pastrami, cream cheese and lettuce wrap with a left over crepe.

Hello, THURSDAY

2010-04-15T10:10:00.000-07:00

As I was driving to work this morning, listening to David Bowie, I was feeling great and thinking of about twelve things that I needed to share with the world today.

None of which come to mind now.

This morning, as I was calming my bedhead at the bathroom sink, I observed Fhloston P. behaving as a Wild Animal. She was darting around frantically like she does when she either needs to, or has just pooped, except that today she also started leaping into the bathtub and licking herself for a brief moment before high-tailing it back to the living room again. The thing is, this cat is not a Great Jumper, and she had a hard time making it into the tub every time. So half the time she attempted the jump she ended up making a desperate scramble at the side of the tub, then deciding suddenly and urgently, mid-scramble, that she needed to run again, she would make a feline about-turn, ears flat against her head, and careen against the door jam on her way out.

11:05. I just remembered:
In Starbucks this morning, picking up my daily cup (as we have been lamentably out of coffee for about 2 weeks), the cashier, an older lady, maybe in her mid fourties, always friendly, asked me if I was a dancer. No, I laughed (the thought of me as a dancer, HAH!). She said, "Oh, it's just that you have such a beautiful...," and here she vaguely gestured at her own clavicle/neck/chin area. She may have also mentioned something about being tall, I can't remember. To which I also laughed, sightly uncomfortably, said, "Oh, thank you," and left immediately.

If only

2010-04-14T11:28:00.001-07:00

I often wish that I was Winona Ryder. Perhaps that's why I cut my hair?

Sigh.

2010-04-13T10:24:00.000-07:00

How can I force myself to start making art again?

Every time I get home from work, my crowded little apartment and the meow-meister cat tell me urgently to just sit down, forget about the mess, the dishes, the bills to sort through, the faint and foggy possibility of art-making --- just sit down and watch a movie.

And I do.

And the dishes pile into a heap that rivals the leaning tower of Pisa. Leftovers from last month stay mouldering in the back of the fridge. The trash overflows. My desk remains unused, and I quietly push it out of my mind.

Where have I been for a YEAR?

2010-04-08T10:06:00.001-07:00

Yes, that is the question. It's been a busy and monumental year, and rather than write something long and boring, I will spare all you 3 faithful readers and summarize with a picture story:

>>>>>> I had my senior show. We did indeed survive the death weekend installing it, and though we were still there desperately adusting the lighting as the sun came up on the day of the opening, it came off a success.

>>>>>> Then I graduated. It was a moment of terror and excitement, drawn out for three hours and baked into me by the sun and my polyester robe.

>>>>>> I quickly moved on the the joys of paying rent and a 3 month flirtation with unemployment. Then I became ENGAGED, and wedding planning spirited me away for the next six months.

>>>>> On January 17th of this new decade, I married my love, and it was good.

>>>>> Married Life inspired me to chop off all my hair, and we have since acquired a seeming menagerie of animals -- two finches (Ananias & Sapphira), an unpictured rabbit (Maleficent), and a cat (Fhloston Paradise). My life is now complete.

another tidbit

2009-05-07T15:22:00.000-07:00

I apologize for the lack of real writing lately. It'll return once I return to my normal state of mind. Which might be never, but will more likely be sometime toward the end of June. Maybe just in time for Beth's birthday. You never know.

Anyway, in the meantime, please enjoy my graduation announcement:

And maybe watch that Maru the cat video again.

meet maru the cat

2009-05-07T02:24:00.000-07:00

All I have to offer today is this cat and a few tears that were shed from laughter:

return of the cat

2009-05-05T01:45:00.000-07:00

These are my business cards. They're printed on pearl-escent paper. Yes, they glow.

Notice the mountains and cat.

Personal hygiene has taken quite a hit these days. 14 days till liftoff.

Five years, my brain hurts a lot

2009-04-27T08:59:00.000-07:00

And here I am again, finally. Get ready for a brief run-down of all the things that have happened in my m.i.a. month, played to the tune of "Five Years" by David Bowie. Because I'm feeling a spectacular combination of benevolence and guilt, I'll even provide a video so that you, dear reader, won't be stuck with the daunting task of recalling the lyrics to the afforementioned epic (that, of course, excludes Beth. I'm confident that YOU know every word).

This one goes out to you, Beth.

>> I made my show cards, and they're being printed right now. To be mailed soon: (front and back)

>> I also made my graduation announcements, but you don't get to see them yet.

>> I also made a website! (free and easy): candrews.carbonmade.com

>> On April 11th I was chrismated, so I'm now officially Orthodox

>> Beth and Jehoaddan's shows opened. I'm so proud of my babies.

>> The lovely Lehua took my graduation pictures. Keep tuned, folks. Coming soon.

And of course, in the meanwhile I'm taking life 5 minutes at a time, trying not to panic about my show in 3 1/2 short short weeks, graduation, jobs, etc. And of course, it's not working and I'm having daily panic attacks.

lookie lookie

2009-04-07T11:59:00.001-07:00

I've been toying with the idea of a costume party for my next birthday, and after this excellent find there's no going back: (think Eagle vs. Shark, without all the New Zealand weirdness and sexual tension)

A Magic Cabin exclusive, these costumes can be found only at magiccabin.com!

I think these will be the dress code of the day. Also, be sure to take a look at the cloaks, royal capes, and "great celestial silk." (!!!) If everyone wore the great celestial silk I would be overwhelmed with happiness.

OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT! Check this out: the USB Humping Dog. This is the product description:

"Wants to give an arid office life addition lovable atmosphere? Hey xiu the puppy U plate, does not have the storage capacity U plate, but you, so long as inserts computer's USB connection, this puppy will do hey xiu movement, regardless of who will be, as soon as will see the such lovable small gadget to be able happy to smile, the happy little thing, don't you want to have?"

>>>>>>In case you didn't catch it the first time: Hey xiu movement?

With just 30 simple questions you, too, can discover yourself!

2009-04-06T10:30:00.000-07:00

I am and always have been a sucker for the personality type quizzes. I remember the day I first read the "INFJ" description and was OVERWHELMED by the clear encompassing of my very being. I was so overwhelmed, in fact, that I failed to work on Integrated Design 2, which happened to be the class I was in at the time, thus bringing the wrath of Mark upon me. Which only meant that I had to pretend like I was working instead of blatantly looking like I wasn't.

Ever since then I've had a strange mixture of dread and desire when it comes to retaking said quizzes. On one hand I want to see if I'll come out the same. On the other hand, what if I don't? Do I leave well enough alone or do I reassure myself in my personal continuity? This is the eternal question.

Today I was reassured:

You Are An INFJ !!

"The Protector"

You live your life with integrity, originality, vision, and creativity.

Independent and stubborn, you rarely stray from your vision - no matter what it is.

You are an excellent listener with almost infinite patience. (really?)

You have complex feelings, and you take great care to express them.

In love, you see relationships as an opportunity to connect and grow.

You enjoy relationships when they are improving and changing. You can't stand stagnation.

At work, you stay motivated and happy... as long as you are working toward a dream you support.

You would make a great photographer, alternative medicine guru, or teacher.

How you see yourself: Hardworking, ethical, and helpful

When other people don't get you, they see you as: Manipulative, weak, and unstable

Aha! Now I finally understand why people act uncomfortably around me! They can't wait to get away from my weak, unstable manipulation. BUT on the bright side, at least I'm the Protector. Are you the Protector? No, that's me.

So here's the question of the day: Should I actively pursue a career as an alternate medicine guru?

twentyfour// special hummus edition

2009-04-01T17:23:00.000-07:00

hummus.

WOW AM I SO ADDICTED TO THIS STUFF! It was Monday evening when I bought the Fresh & Easy "big hummus" which is none other than 16oz of pure chickpea garlic delight, and now it is Wednesday afternoon and I find myself missing about 9 1/2oz of it. That's right folks, in essentially a day I ate more than half the hummus. Right now I am contemplating eating it with a spoon, the flavor just GETS ME so.

Incidentally, I have a really intense canker sore between my gum and bottom lip that may or may not be related to the serious influx of salt and garlic that has come my way in the past 24 hours.

And apparently this guy really likes hummus too:

because he made some all by himself. Guess where I found this out. That's right, Google image. Just type in "fresh & easy" hummus, and what you will not find is a picture of the "big hummus" that I have been consuming. What you will find is about 4 pages worth of pictures documenting Ben's hummus preparation.

Which reminds me, my mother, the health nut that she once was, used to make hummus in our village out of chickpeas and not much else. It was distinctively thick and grainy, impossible to spread and unmistakably made of chickpeas. Hence the reason I only started appreciating hummus about a year ago. But let me assure you, since then I've made up for lost time.

Let me also assure you that I am not eating it with a spoon right now. I know you've been thinking about that with disdain and revulsion ever since paragraph one. Stop judging. It never happened.

(unless you count the fork that I used last night)

twentytree//

2009-04-01T11:04:00.000-07:00

You may think that the title is a typo, but you would be wrong. I aptly named this post "twentyTREE" because today I am dealing with the ever fascinating and enriching subject of spirit animals, as inspired by this little friend. Of course, spirit animals live in nature, and so do trees. Obviously.

Anyway. I went through a big spirit animal kick about a year ago. In this phase I took quizzes, read wikipedia, and did many Google image searches of various animals. Ultimately I ended up deciding on our spirit animals by intuition alone.

Me:

Beth:

Lehua:

Was I not correct?

twentytwo//

2009-03-26T16:39:00.000-07:00

Apparently, if one were to call me a blogger, one might point out that I'm becoming one of those lazy ones that writes less and less as time goes on. I resist that term whilst acknowledging the gentle poke in the ribs, that subtle and loving goading that I sense these days. If it were the new year I would resolve to "journal" more (notice the very understated word substitution), however, as it is only a new month and resolutions are only appropriate once a year, I can do nothing but think incessantly about writing and guilt trip myself at all possible times. It may or may not work. I respond less positively to guilt than I once did.

Countdown:

******Show in 7 weeks.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

*****I got the graduation schedule of events today. Checked at the bookstore and cap and gowns are $33 (a biblical number for a Christian school?) ug.

******Chrismation in 11 days.

Things are happening fast around here.

(allegedly, this is a cat)

I end with an aerobics anecdote. (Beth, this is for you) Abs and back one unit till when? We all respond with: mumble mumble Jesus mumble (Translation: till Jesus comes back!)

twentyone// eff effff efff

2009-03-25T00:29:00.000-07:00

Me You and Everyone We Know.

Today, as I avoided the dreaded New Atheism homework, I stumbled upon this clip and was reminded of why this movie is one of my all time favorites:

Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh, so good.

TWENTY// aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

2009-03-23T22:26:00.000-07:00

Lately my thoughts have been too scattered to blog about, and I start writing a million things with titles like

TWENTY// aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

and nothing seems appropriate. So I give up. But then I feel guilty for NOT writing, even if it would have been crap anyway, so I start searching for at least a good picture that I could post instead of writing something intelligent or interesting, but after about 3 minutes get sidetracked and end up on Facebook. Or reading certain other people's blogs that are effortlessly eloquent and smart and witty. And then I sink into a mire of hopelessness and pick at my fingernails until I have to cut them off, and then I go to bed.

Or usually I don't even go to bed, but spend the next 5 hours reading and re-reading those certain witty writers or watching Gilmore Girls and despairing at my utter lack of wit. By then I'm so tired that I've lost all sense of responsibility and/or desire to live, so I spend another hour whinging to Beth about how much I effing eff efff eff blah blah blah hate life and am stressed out about my senior show, to which she responds, I know, and we utter deep, heart wrenching sighs and fall into bed in a miserable dazed stupor.

What a life.

In short what I'm saying is, I am extremely irresponsible and actually complain more than I work, which is why I end up being so stressed out and agitated all the time.

Anyway, I wish this dress wasn't $40 or I would buy it for my show opening:

Maybe I'll buy it anyway (with my tax refund which I just got today (!!!!)), which is what I usually end up doing when I'm stressed out. (Only to feel extremely guilty about it the next day and probably return it.) Maybe not. I don't know.

nineteen// colds

2009-03-21T13:21:00.000-07:00

Apparently I have caught the dreaded cold that's going around. Yesterday I woke up with a raspy painful throat and snot-clogged nose that almost immediately transformed into a snot-dripping one. And oh, clarity, now I understand why my ears have been popping all week long.

Last time I had a cold I wrote this sketch that I'll share if we all promise not to judge me too critically:

(promise?) ok.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

She blew her nose clumsily into a napkin that already held her discarded gum and closed the seat-back tray with difficulty. Stuffed the sorry tissue into a crumpled cup that declared, in Styrofoam blue,
Our lowest fare guarantee, only at AA.com--
and in smaller letters, HOT! CALIENTE!

Lukewarm, she corrected the faulty warning, and fished the napkin out again for another damp blow. Cursed nose. She sniffed and stole a sidelong glance out the window, eyes darting, an imperceptible turn of the head. Descending, a dirty blanket hung like smoke over the low city, hazily concealing the concise housing blocks and well groomed trees. Was it smoke?

An inward shudder and she returned to her book, ignoring the chesty ache that was anticipation.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Anyway, that's all. The only other interesting thing to report on is that our toilet won't stop running. Like my nose, it's been at it for the past 4 hours. Well, OK, that's only partly true. After an hour I got fed up and turned it off, but just now we had to turn it back on again because some flushing needed to happen. But I can almost guarantee you that it would have been running nonstop if I hadn't taken action. Too bad you can't turn noses off with the simple twist of a knob.

eighteeeeeeen//

2009-03-18T11:59:00.000-07:00

My day at work has been highlighted by two things:

ONE//
Short, 30ish Asian man, wedding band, Tshirt printed with a glamor shot of his child wearing an animal ears headband. Walking by he smiled big and waved. After withdrawing money from his account he hesitates, then says quickly and thickly accented, "You are very beautiful!" I chuckle awkwardly and thank him, and we both wish each other good days.

Bizarre.

TWO//
There is this thing in my eye and it's irritating the heck out of me. Apparently there is nothing in there, as evidenced by peering into the mirror for a good five minutes and scrubbing my eyeball with my finger, but still it hurts. I CAN FEEL SOMETHING IN THERE gosh darn it.

Argargarg.

In other news,

I really like the name Ilsa for a girl. And Zooey.

I need to make my graduation announcements. (!!!)

Today is Corrie's birthday. You don't read my blog but happy birthday anyway little sister best friend. I'm sorry that I haven't mailed your presents yet. And I'm anxious to meet your recent acquisition (chameleon !!!), but I might not touch it. I don't know yet.

seventeen// scattered observations

2009-03-16T09:08:00.000-07:00

"The length of a minute depends on which side
of the bathroom door you're on"

I saw that on a billboard last night and thought it was funny.

This week I'm going to work 30 hours, which is a little more than twice the amount I usually work. I'm not looking forward to it, but it's necessary if I want to replenish the money that was just sucked out of my savings account by my school bill.

At the same time though, the semester is just galloping right along which means that May 18th, the dreaded show day, is approaching in leaps and bounds.

So the question is, do I use my free time this week to work, like I'd planned, so I can afford to buy a car, or do I work on my show, which is terrifying me more every day?

I want to get my hair cut like Scarlett Johansson's in Lost in Translation. Bangs. Hopefully the appeal of the movie isn't clouding my perception of the hair:

I do so love the movie.

I have a headache, woof woof. And I need to write my mother. And Eat Something Because I Am Hungry.

sixteen// deceitful sushi labels

2009-03-13T12:37:00.000-07:00

Work.

Here I am. I'm on lunch but I'm really just sitting at the back digesting a so called "sushi cup." It's neither sushi, nor did it come in a cup. The delightful Talon was out of bagels today, entirely, so this is what I get for lunch. Cold and hard rice, mushy tuna. Yummmmmmm.

But it's Friday, so it'll take a lot more than deceiful Talon sushi to dampen my spirits.

While I have sushi on the mind, I would really like to own all of these delightful sushi's:

And this is not sushi but I want it anyway, in my computer and ESPECIALLY in my tummy:

Shoot. Not for another, what, 30 days? More like THE REST OF MY LIFE. That's what it seems like anyway.

fifteen// blessing

2009-03-09T16:57:00.000-07:00

I keep coming back to this poem by John O'Donohue. If you go here, and you should, you can download a version of him reading it. (Third link down, "Beannacht." It means blessing.) He was Irish and it's wonderful.

Beannacht

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

There is also a really long and excellent interview with him here that you should listen to. It's a big time inspiration for me lately in my work.

fourteen//

2009-03-09T11:41:00.000-07:00

I dream every night, vividly about very strange things, but I almost never remember them when I wake up in the morning. Usually I'm left with the bizarre feelings that go along with my subconscious ramblings, and they stay with me for a good part of the day. But every once in a great while I'll remember a dream and then I can't get it out of my head; today happens to be one of those days.

In my dream I had some friends with two children: a toddler and an infant. I don't remember where the mother was, just absent I suppose. It didn't seem strange at the time. The father was a blithering idiot. He didn't take care of his kids or even seem to know what was going on, and it bothered me. So the toddler is holding her baby sister, and they're beautiful. Beth and I are talking with the dad, and all of the sudden they're out of sight, drowning in a kiddie pool, stuck in there. Like vacuumed in or something, it was bizarre. And I'm the only one that cares or tries to do anything about it. I somehow extract them from the pool, and they both look like they're dead. It's terrifying. I can only do CPR (which I know how to do in the dream) on one at a time, and each second is invaluable so I start pumping the toddler's chest and hand the infant to the father. And he just stands there, looking baffled and holding the baby in one hand, DOING NOTHING. It's breaking my heart but I can't do anything about it because the toddler is still not breathing. So I managed to save the little girl but the baby died because of her father's stupidity. And yet I still felt so guilty and devastated for the rest of the dream, like it was my fault or something.

It was terrible.

thirteen// some late and tired thoughts

2009-03-06T01:07:00.000-08:00

It's so late that my brain hurts and I keep convincing myself, in a dumb mind fog, to do stupid things like read blogs for hours instead of going to sleep. Tonight I'm a little bit sad and all I want is some wine and to not have to go to work in the morning.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
How do you stop being sad?

I should know but I don't, still. Lately it passes through me with sleep or distraction or tasks. But not so long ago it was a constant gnawing ache in my chest that I could try to ignore but it would just keep festering. Sometimes I miss it.

And now it's gone, inexplicably and without effort. It just passed, slowly I think, maybe little bits at a time dissipated. And I realized that the festering has been replaced by a light sort of clarity that I've never felt before. I'm so grateful and it doesn't seem fair that I should be light and un-prevailed upon while others are still being chewed up by that perpetual ache. I can't even offer any help because I don't know how it changed, and beside that, the rest of the world probably resents me for my happiness. I just want to swallow down all the pain of everyone that I love. And I can't, so instead I end up silent or laughing, doing no good at all.

twelve//

2009-03-05T13:08:00.000-08:00

The weekend's rolling around again and I couldn't be happier. I'm sitting here munching on a very Lenten lunch of toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwich, mentally preparing myself for the dreaded Small Group Communication class that I have in exactly 19 minutes. And physically preparing myself for the walk there. (Aerobics, sadly enough, still exhausts me.)

17 minutes.

I should leave.

But I don't want to.

I dread the endless icebreakers and pointless discussions.

I shall think of this as I begin my trek:

(feathers)

eleven//

2009-03-02T23:10:00.000-08:00

I have an embarrassing admission.

Regretfully, I cannot remember a time I wasn't watching the Bachelor. As in, tonight the sneaky show lasted for THREE AND A HALF HOURS. All I wanted was for my curiosity to be abated by finding out which girl he would choose, and I believe it took 27 commercial breaks for that to happen. Commercial breaks in which we were subjected to propaganda on terrible things like Vagisil. Yes, Vagisil. Come on, shudder with me about that frightful experience. And yes, it was undeniably one I could have avoided and terminated at any moment by standing up and turning off the TV. But I'm curious like a cat and stubborn like a mule:

(Side note: this is not a picture of a catmule, but it does deserve some attention. Being a faithful fan of Google Image search, I just now searched "cat mule." This picture came up thirteen times on the first page with various captions that can be reduced to these four:
"... then the mule picked up the cat ...,"
"... the mule again picked up the cat ...,"
"The mule stomped the cat then pinned ..."
"Yes the Mule, killed the mountain ...,"
From these I deduced that the image pictures both a mule and a mountain lion, and that the mule picked up the cat two times before proceeding to stomp, pin and kill it. Astounding.)

Anyway. All that to say that I can be idiotic when it comes to television and it's a good thing our antenna barely works or I might be tempted to watch much more than I do. Or maybe the Vagisil commercial tonight saved me from a future of television watching, as I will ALWAYS live in fear of seeing it again.

ten//

2009-03-02T03:33:00.000-08:00

"Ten," just now was SO CLOSE to being: yrn, then, or teen. It's been such a long day, and yet, I'm. still. awake. At 3:37. I actually started writing this at 3:33, which I consider to be a good sign. Those even or symmetrical numbers are always an amicable sign and have a cheering effect on my spirit.

For example, I usually set my alarm for 7:27. Not because I need those extra three minutes before seven thirty, but because it inevitably starts out the day better. Just trust me on this. Also, if you start paying attention you will catch these glorious numbers at almost every turn. Bare (bear?) with me on this.

OH LOOK:

(Pretend this is a picture of 3:43 on a digital clock. It took me 5 seconds and two Google image searches to determine that I wasn't going to find an appropriate picture before my bedtime.)

3:43! So symmetrical, and what a good time to go to bed.

nine//

2009-02-28T13:36:00.000-08:00

Daily dose of inspiration: OK, this brilliant woman, Ruth Marshall, knits cat pelts. I would dearly like to meet her. Wouldn't that be great if genius rubbed off by proximity?

In other news, I am extremely lazy and slept till 11 this morning only to arise with an accelerated heartbeat that lasted an hour for NO APPARENT REASON. The twitching, the heart, the mysterious appendicital pains, not to mention the heart palpitations that come weekly. Good thing I eat so healthy to counteract my crappy body. HAH.

eight// on face twitching

2009-02-25T23:56:00.000-08:00

These are the areas of my face that have twitched in the last few weeks:

(the normal places like:)
1. eyelid >>>> left eye, top lid

2. eyebrow >>>> left one

(then the unusual places, like:)

3. mouth >>>> top lip, left hand side

4. CHEEK >>>> my lower cheek/jaw area was twitching uncontrollably last week. >>>>> and again, on the left side.

This brings me to the question, what in the world is wrong with the left side of my face?? Should I be worried about all this twitching? Should I be transcribing the twitches into Morse Code that, if translated correctly, will spell out messages like "beware your immanent death," or "stop drinking coffee, it's aggravating your heart and causing an ulcer?" Is it like the aftershock of an earthquake, telling me that I've recently had a stroke and the left side of my body is about to lose all sensation and muscle control?

All I can think about is that one eye twitch I had last semester that lasted for SIX HOURS STRAIGHT. Wow. What if I was the world record holder for Longest Lasting Twitch Incident and didn't even know it? Woah baby, I should make myself a medal.

seven// bunny yawns

2009-02-23T23:50:00.001-08:00

THESE RABBITS ARE YAWNING! (tired, like me)

I want a bunny. so. bad. I wish I could say I was responsible for the gem of a website these pictures were taken from. Sadly, I am not. But I recommend that you check it out anyway:

http://talkingegg.com/humor/bunnyyawns.html

Also be sure to follow the link at the bottom, entitled "bunny lick." You won't be sorry, I promise.

six//

2009-02-20T10:43:00.000-08:00

I'm going out of my mind this week. Too busy, can't think. The weekend doesn't hold much promise of relaxation or even getting caught up. In this state of rushed agitation I have a million lists going on in my head simultaneously, including (but not limited to): laundry, gallery installation, call the bank, get fliers printed, WORK ON SHOW, email people. Usually at this point the list dissolves into a wordless howl, such as: "aaaaaiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeee." Either that or very colorful language gets played on repeat through my brain for the next couple of minutes.

ANYWAY.

Instead of posting new work, since I have none, this is part of zine that I made a couple of semesters ago. I'm still very fond of it. It's entitled, Welcome to the World: 100% all natural goodness by Claire Andrews. This is but a sampling of spreads>>>>>>>

So there we go. And I'm off to make more lists.

five// in which i may or may not have appendicitis

2009-02-18T01:14:00.000-08:00

Today was not my day. First of all, aerobics. We don't need to talk any more about aerobics. But then this thing happened when I got home from the aforementioned class and collapsed onto my bed for a couple of minutes. This thing that happened was, I tried to get up and was immediately confronted with a searing, crippling pain in my lower right abdomen, right by the hip bone.

As in, yes, that IS where the appendix is.

By clutching my side and moving slowly I was able to reach my computer, in crippling pain, to google-self-diagnose. Because, I'll just go ahead and admit this right now: I am terrified of appendicitis, and that's the first thing I thought of when the pain hit me. According to the all knowing Internet, my symptoms were exactly those of appendicitis (intense pain, lower right abdomen, applied pressure slightly relieved pain), which both terrified and shamed me. I generally despise the hyper paranoid that self-diagnose and then rush to the ER. But I was seriously considering the ER at this point, because this was the point where movement induced nausea.

SOLUTION: call the Health Center. Five times. They finally answer and say, there's nothing we can do for you. Go to the Urgent Care down the street. Ok. Should I? Maybe.

No. I refuse to rush off, willy nilly to the ER. So I decided to wait it out, and, aided by three Excedrin, within an hour I could walk again. And what do you know, it's gradually worn off throughout the day until now, at 1:30 am when I am proudly announcing that I am PAIN FREE. And boy am I glad I didn't go to the Urgent Care down the street. Although in hindsight that might actually have been a good idea. Chances are, a little trip to the emergency room could have gotten me out of all this homework that I'm avoiding right now yet still have to finish by tomorrow.

four// my atrophied muscles and cats

2009-02-13T09:26:00.000-08:00

Woah woah woah am I in pain this morning. To take my mind off my atrophied muscles, I've been looking at cats of course. This artist, Dana Carlson, apparently shares my appreciation of cats:

CAT MOUNTAIN

CATS ARE ATTUNED TO THE WEATHER

SPIRIT QUEST WITH WOLVES

(Clearly, picture and text spacing is still a little more than I can handle.)

three// on some recent incidents

2009-02-12T12:43:00.000-08:00

The last few weeks have been marked by a series of unfortunate events, namely involving the regrettable PE requirements of our school. Of which I have only completed half. Because of which I have to take two PE classes this semester, my final semester of college.

So I'm taking Walking and Jogging, no big deal. That's fine. But the other one, that one last requirement, has been giving me endless amounts of grief. Beth and I, having already experienced Beginning Bowling together, signed up for Advanced Bowling: the next level up in the bowling hierarchy of classes. But then we remembered, OH YEAH, handicaps. We won't be getting any now that we've attained the "advanced" status. Faced with extreme humiliation and an average score of 90, we dropped the class. Only to add, are you ready for this, BEGINNING AEROBICS. Or as some might call it, GOSPEL aerobics.

This is a disaster. Our first class today involved (and was not limited to): gospel music, kicking, squats, holding your arms in the air until they're going to fall off, and many combinations of motions that I am not physically capable of. Like complicated foot movements performed simultaneously with rhythmic arm waving, followed directly by push ups. Which I am also incapable of. Which, incidentally, make me feel like I'm going to throw up; there was bile in my mouth at one point. Sweat streaming, nauseous and shaking, constantly losing my balance and in danger of toppling, I realized that I'm going to have trouble moving at all tomorrow. AND FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE, as long as I'm in this class.

Oh Advanced Bowling, what have I done?

two//

2009-02-11T08:47:00.000-08:00

I'm trying to start off the day on a good foot, since it involves about 13 hours at school. My longest break between classes on Wednesday (or "death day," as I'm fond of calling) it is a half an hour. Fortunately I share my plight with not one, but three of my friends, so we commiserate and give each other caffeine injections on the sly. Anyway, what better way to start the day (rhyme rhyme rhyme!) than with a little inspiration, right? Well, here it is:

inspiration of the best variety (Amy Long). Oh wait, and I was going to post another beautiful picture, but formatting is clearly against me this morning (as evidenced by the abnormally and inexplicably large gap between picture and text. Not my doing.) so that's all you get.

one// off to a great start

2009-02-09T23:38:00.001-08:00

Already things have gone terribly wrong. Upon sitting down to write my first post, I was met with a great suprise. (See below.) Somehow the blog had manipulated its settings to automatically translate everything I wrote into Hindi, of all languages. After a half an hour of searching I finally righted the sneaky setting, and here I am, miraculously writing in English, in characters I can read.

It's incredible how much less impressive this looks now that it's readable, and how difficult it is to think of anything to say. But oh wow check out that Hindi down there.

नम्बर ओने

2009-02-09T23:15:00.000-08:00

वेल नो इ हवे अ ब्लॉग ठाट अप्परेंत्ल्य कोन्वेर्ट्स एवेर्य्थिंग इ'म व्रितिंग इन्तो अ दिफ्फेरेंत लैंगुएज। थिस इस ग्रेट। इ कैन'टी एवें रीड आईटी म्य्सेल्फ़।