No! For the habberdasherry is closed!
Hello muffins! How's life? No, really, how's life? I haven't been checking up on things here and so have missed out on months worth of details that you have spread across the internet to those who love and/or stalk you. And let's face it, it's going to be just too damn much work to try and catch up by reading all of it. So I'll tell you mine, you tell me yours.
We last left off in November, I believe. And if I recall correctly, I was freaking out because Neil Gaiman and I have the same birthday. What the fuck, I love the man and his work and finding that out was like WHOOOOOO!!! But let's move on.
As of my birthday, I've been with my boyfriend Marc, whose real name is Marcellus but we insist on calling him Marcello [mar-chello]. It's good times. And NO, it's not the boyfriend that's been keeping me from the computer, it's been sheer laziness and lack of will to battle with a computer that refuses to function. My monitor has been all kinds of fucked-up since last year and it's been getting progressivel worse to the point that I have to beg and plead with my computer to work, then tell it it's a bitchface and it should die a fiery death, then do some kind of ancient magic voo doo dance around it, closing with tears of despiration and bargaining with whatever demon happens to be hovering slightly to my left. All that stuff just takes too damned long if all I want to do is check my e-mail, anyway. So it's been getting neglected. Now, I know you're probably saying to yourself "But Kat, doesn't your father do all your computer work for freeeeeeeee?" and I say to that "Yes. When he feels like getting around to it." I've left my computer with him on many occassions and on the ones that he does actually get around to doing SOMETHING with the computer, it's usually not the right something to make my problem go away. I honestly think that it's a flaw in this case [this is a frankenputer laptop.] because it's been this way since the first day he put my harddrive into it. But that's enough about computer monitors and battling them, for I'm sure that this has grown long and boring by now and so will end it here.
I finished off last semester with some pretty decent grades, but I've never been the same after Thanksgiving, with my whole family against my decision to be an artist. So, during the winter break, I decided that I would finish off this year reguarless of everything and at the end of it, decide if I want to go ahead and spend another $50,000 on my passions and convictions, or if it's best to pay back the $50,000 that I already owe on frivilous dreams and wishes. Don't worry, I'm not asking for advice in this matter, because I know that it's something that I need to really search myself for the answer, instead of search the suggestions of people outside the circumstances. But now you know that this is something that's weighing heavily on my mind and will probably be crushing me with its demand to be answered. The teeter-totter goes in both directions from day-to-day, so I really can't say to which decision I am most loyal.
But in good news related to school, I'm in photography and costumes and bookbinding [well, book arts:structures] and short stories this semester! As well as anatomy and pictorial foundation. In anatomy, we're working with oil, which is completely unexpected and welcome, because it means that we're not working on the mylars for now, which were what nearly killed me last semester. PictFound holds no surprises, but I think it's interesting that, while anatomy has let up a little this last week, PictFound has been throwing its weight around. We never really get a proper break, but at least with this distribution of demands, I'm more happy with and motivated by the content, so struggling to get it done is only half as painful as it was last semester. I'm really excited about my non-core classes though, because photo finally gave me a desperate need to find a lens cap that fits for my camera and I did! Ha ha! It was the only 49mm one I've ever found in the city and probably the only one I'll ever find again, but let me tell you, the joy pouring out of me because of that event was frightening. Bookbinding is fascinating and useful and the instructor is great. But, because we all know I'm a theater kid somewhere in my heart, I've finally decided to take a theater class. Whoo! My costumes class is great, and the teacher is amazing, and it's only an hour and a half long instead of six! Whoooo!!! I love theater classes!!!!!! Ha hahahaahahahaahah.
Also, it's really damned cold outside and my clothes are all in shambles and walking a mile to class in that state is really dumb. I just thought you should know that because I just thought about how cold I am inside, and how cold it must be outside and how I'm going to have to walk to class in that cold soon enough and it's going to suck. End thought.
School actually only started two and a half weeks ago, but the week before that, I did the Spring Orientation for this year, which was great because I was a spring admit myself and I really wanted to tell the new foundation students that they were going to have a rake jammed up their asses. I mean, there was no warning for me and it was really painful, so being able to give the heads-up to someone else was great. But, of course, the very day that all the Orientation mumbo-jumbo starts, I get sick. Of course. So I was weak and sneezing and coughing and I sounded like I'd been smoking for fifty years if I had any less than five mugs of hot tea put into my system. It was a mess. And the dumb thing is that it carried on far beyond the week of orientation, and beyond the first week of classes. So last Wednesday, the mark of having been sick for longer than two weeks, I went home. I had a dentist appointment that day anyway, and so thought "Hey, I'm going to be in the area anyway, might as well get in a check-up at the doctor's, too." So I dragged my ass to the doctor's at nine in the morning to tell them that I've been miserable and headachey and fever and fatigue and unable to eat and fix it fix it fix it fix it fix it!!!! Their response? "Well, it seems like you just have some kind of virus, but here's some ibeprofen for those crippling headaches you've got. Now go get some blood drawn, just in case." So I shuffle over to needle-land where the receptionist is like 'ZOMG, you lives on the South Streets?!?!' and I'm like 'Yes, it's freakin' sweet, now please pass the tissues.' She was a nice lady. Then they took me into 'the back room of doom' where they took me behind a shed and put me down. Wait, what? No, that has nothing to do with this story at all. What really happened was they sat me down in a chair and put that rubber thing on my arm and massaged my veins to make them pop up. And massaged them. And massaged them. This woman clearly had never been a junkie in her life because she just could not find a vein. I said "Ha ha, just kidding! I'm a robot!" and she laughed because she was really starting to wonder since she couldn't find a vein, even though I could clearly see them through my pasty-pale skin. Well, eventually she just gave up and stuck the needle into my arm in some arbitrary point and wiggled it around until blood came out. No, seriously, that's what she did. And she said "Tell me if I'm hurting you." And I, cringing, said "You're hurting me but I don't care just hurry up and get the blood ow ow." It was no good. I still have a bruise in the area from all the damage she did. Anyway, I stumbled home and saw that Marc was still asleep [He drove me to DE in the first place, so we stayed the night since my doctor's appt was in the morning] so I went into the other room and painted for a while until he came in and was thoroughly confused as to how long ago I had poofed back. Then came painting in oils, dentist, camera/printer/computer troubles, and going home. Somewhere in there, I received a phone call from the doctor who was like "Congrats! You have mono!" And I just cracked up laughing because it's the absolutely most inconvenient thing that could have happened to me during the first weeks of school, which is clearly why it happened. My life has that kind of cruel sense of humor about it, so I spend a lot of time laughing and then saying 'ow' because my spleen's about to rupture. And here, I had my heart set on a round of kung fu football. Dang. And I'm going on my third week of being sick now. Double dang.
Oh yeah! I played the Wii! It was great! See, Marc and I came up with this devious plot to get my fantastical roommate Liz together with his fantastical friend Pete, and so far it seems like it maybe might be working. Hopefully. The things that he does for her make me go 'awwww,' and they're silly little things like buying pants. Annnnnyway, the initial meeting that we made happen between them was the four of us [Marc, Liz, Pete, and myself] under the guise of having a damned good time beating the crap out of rabbits on the Wii. But since their relationship is none of your business, I'm going to talk about the Wii. Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Let me tell you, beating the crap out of rabbits in a gajillionty different ways is the best idea anyone has ever had. And Warioware is just as awesomely random as Touched was and I love it because it's great for people who have short attention spans and are easily amused.
But anyway, I should probably end this message because I woke up at eight since I have a painting due in a couple of hours that's only half finished. Whoops. Yeah, see, this is another reason I haven't been using LJ; I always seem to find the most inconvenient time to use it.
We last left off in November, I believe. And if I recall correctly, I was freaking out because Neil Gaiman and I have the same birthday. What the fuck, I love the man and his work and finding that out was like WHOOOOOO!!! But let's move on.
As of my birthday, I've been with my boyfriend Marc, whose real name is Marcellus but we insist on calling him Marcello [mar-chello]. It's good times. And NO, it's not the boyfriend that's been keeping me from the computer, it's been sheer laziness and lack of will to battle with a computer that refuses to function. My monitor has been all kinds of fucked-up since last year and it's been getting progressivel worse to the point that I have to beg and plead with my computer to work, then tell it it's a bitchface and it should die a fiery death, then do some kind of ancient magic voo doo dance around it, closing with tears of despiration and bargaining with whatever demon happens to be hovering slightly to my left. All that stuff just takes too damned long if all I want to do is check my e-mail, anyway. So it's been getting neglected. Now, I know you're probably saying to yourself "But Kat, doesn't your father do all your computer work for freeeeeeeee?" and I say to that "Yes. When he feels like getting around to it." I've left my computer with him on many occassions and on the ones that he does actually get around to doing SOMETHING with the computer, it's usually not the right something to make my problem go away. I honestly think that it's a flaw in this case [this is a frankenputer laptop.] because it's been this way since the first day he put my harddrive into it. But that's enough about computer monitors and battling them, for I'm sure that this has grown long and boring by now and so will end it here.
I finished off last semester with some pretty decent grades, but I've never been the same after Thanksgiving, with my whole family against my decision to be an artist. So, during the winter break, I decided that I would finish off this year reguarless of everything and at the end of it, decide if I want to go ahead and spend another $50,000 on my passions and convictions, or if it's best to pay back the $50,000 that I already owe on frivilous dreams and wishes. Don't worry, I'm not asking for advice in this matter, because I know that it's something that I need to really search myself for the answer, instead of search the suggestions of people outside the circumstances. But now you know that this is something that's weighing heavily on my mind and will probably be crushing me with its demand to be answered. The teeter-totter goes in both directions from day-to-day, so I really can't say to which decision I am most loyal.
But in good news related to school, I'm in photography and costumes and bookbinding [well, book arts:structures] and short stories this semester! As well as anatomy and pictorial foundation. In anatomy, we're working with oil, which is completely unexpected and welcome, because it means that we're not working on the mylars for now, which were what nearly killed me last semester. PictFound holds no surprises, but I think it's interesting that, while anatomy has let up a little this last week, PictFound has been throwing its weight around. We never really get a proper break, but at least with this distribution of demands, I'm more happy with and motivated by the content, so struggling to get it done is only half as painful as it was last semester. I'm really excited about my non-core classes though, because photo finally gave me a desperate need to find a lens cap that fits for my camera and I did! Ha ha! It was the only 49mm one I've ever found in the city and probably the only one I'll ever find again, but let me tell you, the joy pouring out of me because of that event was frightening. Bookbinding is fascinating and useful and the instructor is great. But, because we all know I'm a theater kid somewhere in my heart, I've finally decided to take a theater class. Whoo! My costumes class is great, and the teacher is amazing, and it's only an hour and a half long instead of six! Whoooo!!! I love theater classes!!!!!! Ha hahahaahahahaahah.
Also, it's really damned cold outside and my clothes are all in shambles and walking a mile to class in that state is really dumb. I just thought you should know that because I just thought about how cold I am inside, and how cold it must be outside and how I'm going to have to walk to class in that cold soon enough and it's going to suck. End thought.
School actually only started two and a half weeks ago, but the week before that, I did the Spring Orientation for this year, which was great because I was a spring admit myself and I really wanted to tell the new foundation students that they were going to have a rake jammed up their asses. I mean, there was no warning for me and it was really painful, so being able to give the heads-up to someone else was great. But, of course, the very day that all the Orientation mumbo-jumbo starts, I get sick. Of course. So I was weak and sneezing and coughing and I sounded like I'd been smoking for fifty years if I had any less than five mugs of hot tea put into my system. It was a mess. And the dumb thing is that it carried on far beyond the week of orientation, and beyond the first week of classes. So last Wednesday, the mark of having been sick for longer than two weeks, I went home. I had a dentist appointment that day anyway, and so thought "Hey, I'm going to be in the area anyway, might as well get in a check-up at the doctor's, too." So I dragged my ass to the doctor's at nine in the morning to tell them that I've been miserable and headachey and fever and fatigue and unable to eat and fix it fix it fix it fix it fix it!!!! Their response? "Well, it seems like you just have some kind of virus, but here's some ibeprofen for those crippling headaches you've got. Now go get some blood drawn, just in case." So I shuffle over to needle-land where the receptionist is like 'ZOMG, you lives on the South Streets?!?!' and I'm like 'Yes, it's freakin' sweet, now please pass the tissues.' She was a nice lady. Then they took me into 'the back room of doom' where they took me behind a shed and put me down. Wait, what? No, that has nothing to do with this story at all. What really happened was they sat me down in a chair and put that rubber thing on my arm and massaged my veins to make them pop up. And massaged them. And massaged them. This woman clearly had never been a junkie in her life because she just could not find a vein. I said "Ha ha, just kidding! I'm a robot!" and she laughed because she was really starting to wonder since she couldn't find a vein, even though I could clearly see them through my pasty-pale skin. Well, eventually she just gave up and stuck the needle into my arm in some arbitrary point and wiggled it around until blood came out. No, seriously, that's what she did. And she said "Tell me if I'm hurting you." And I, cringing, said "You're hurting me but I don't care just hurry up and get the blood ow ow." It was no good. I still have a bruise in the area from all the damage she did. Anyway, I stumbled home and saw that Marc was still asleep [He drove me to DE in the first place, so we stayed the night since my doctor's appt was in the morning] so I went into the other room and painted for a while until he came in and was thoroughly confused as to how long ago I had poofed back. Then came painting in oils, dentist, camera/printer/computer troubles, and going home. Somewhere in there, I received a phone call from the doctor who was like "Congrats! You have mono!" And I just cracked up laughing because it's the absolutely most inconvenient thing that could have happened to me during the first weeks of school, which is clearly why it happened. My life has that kind of cruel sense of humor about it, so I spend a lot of time laughing and then saying 'ow' because my spleen's about to rupture. And here, I had my heart set on a round of kung fu football. Dang. And I'm going on my third week of being sick now. Double dang.
Oh yeah! I played the Wii! It was great! See, Marc and I came up with this devious plot to get my fantastical roommate Liz together with his fantastical friend Pete, and so far it seems like it maybe might be working. Hopefully. The things that he does for her make me go 'awwww,' and they're silly little things like buying pants. Annnnnyway, the initial meeting that we made happen between them was the four of us [Marc, Liz, Pete, and myself] under the guise of having a damned good time beating the crap out of rabbits on the Wii. But since their relationship is none of your business, I'm going to talk about the Wii. Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii. Let me tell you, beating the crap out of rabbits in a gajillionty different ways is the best idea anyone has ever had. And Warioware is just as awesomely random as Touched was and I love it because it's great for people who have short attention spans and are easily amused.
But anyway, I should probably end this message because I woke up at eight since I have a painting due in a couple of hours that's only half finished. Whoops. Yeah, see, this is another reason I haven't been using LJ; I always seem to find the most inconvenient time to use it.