Ready to Roll

Wednesday I go to campus to register. The 4th I finally get to pick up my bigass totebag (hello, shoulder strain) and get my new ID (I can finally stop feeling like a slimeball when I use my old student ID), and head back for a job fair on the 5th.

Where did time go? I can't wait to start. What an area to be attending classes in--right in Union Square!

Today I got some bento boxes and chopstick. All are a matching pink. I now have a fancy neoprene lunch sack, too. Spam musubi, here I come.

I'm excited to be doing what's relevant to my life. I will be doing stuff I want to do. Memories of senior year--working on my internship project (sewing a dress from a muslin, which then turned in to sewing another one from scratch because I finished so early), pushing myself to not miss school at the detriment of my own health, even subconsciously holding my breath as I embroidered Saul Bass' golden arm on the back of my dress (and subsequently falling out of the chair when my lungs couldn't take it any more).

Junior year of high school I was a horrible student. I skipped a lot of school. I was depressed in a way I hadn't been for years. The kind of mornings where it just hurt to move. Everything looked bleak, including college. I was on academic probation for the majority of the year, but somehow, I swung it. I passed all of my classes and got out of the funk. I was determined to make senior year great.

Around July something felt weird. Like a lump in my abdomen. It hurt. I paid it no mind. It slowly grew, but since it was on my lower left I didn't do anything. I overate. It's a muscle. People can think up some awfully interesting explanations for something serious. I stopped wearing jeans because they hurt to zip up and button. And four days after my 18th birthday, it ruptured. By the time I got to the ER there were no cysts showing up on the ultrasound but an abdomen full of fluid was an indication that one had indeed ruptured. After a few very unfun hours in the ER I went home, worrying about an english paper I hadn't finished.

I didn't even take a whole week off. By Thursday night I was so bored of sitting at home, drifting in and out of sleep watching Miami Vice and Spongebob that Friday morning I more or less snuck out of the house and went to school.

I enjoyed my little summer extension but now it's time for me to do work again.

Birthday!

Here's to decade of life number 2!

In which I remember why I stopped drinking black coffee.

So after a horribly mediocre pot of coffee I made earlier this week (It's been a while since I've used a drip coffeemaker) I perfected it. No longer is it coffee-flavored water but a tastebud burning pot of hellfire.

And no milk. Or sugar. I no longer have a taste for splenda. It's not that I don't like the taste of black coffee. But when you're drinking a few cups a day on an empty stomach, that's when you lose the taste for it. By cup 3 I'd be cursing the brilliant logic behind what posessed me to drink that much coffee. If I'm totally awake I'm able to pay more attention.

Yeah, that doesn't work so well, especially when you're trying to do work or if you're dealing with panic attacks. But boy it sure gets you awake. Now I like to leisurely sip my coffee and not shock myself into life in the morning.

Wow.

All I gotta say right now is wow, the weather is nice. It's been overcast but not cold. I'm sitting outside without being bundled up. It's very peaceful here. All I can hear is some cars now and then. I'll probably be shooting the pictures for Legoman tomorrow. It shouldn't be that hard to put together. My sunburn from Saturday in Santa Monica has healed. I'm kinda hoping the sun comes back, though.

The Vicissitude of Legoman, Take 2

My senior year I misinterpreted a photo assignment. We had to take a series of photos that somehow showed movement. At least 8. So our teacher told us to think of it as a stop-motion assignment.

Well, I took it a little too literally. Come Monday my classmates had around 8 pictures each. I don't even remember how many I had. I got to make mine into a movie. Towards the end of its completion I was tired of it. Tired of the sound effects (scrape scrape, head rolls in to drumroll, pop as he puts it on, tires peeling out, sound of my friend bashing a PC case to simulate a car crash, and the Super Mario death jingle to signify the end of the little plastic man's life), tired of the first 30 seconds or so of Depeche Mode's "Suffer Well," and just tired in general.

And I lost it. After I graduated the computers were formatted and the DVD disappeared. But this time around I know I can make it so much better.

The Vicissitude of Legoman is about the fragility of life, our material desires, and molded plastic. But mostly molded plastic.

Packing, packing, packing.

I forgot how much fun this can be. See you Saturday morning LA.

I'm trying to fly without checking a bag. On Southwest you can check two for free but I cannot stand waiting for my bag. This is the first time I've flown to a place where I didn't need a heavy coat in a while so it's definitely easier to pack. I also need to learn how to pack light.

I absolutely hate the liquid/gel restrictions.