Godiva Hot Cocoa + Papa John's = A Sabbath Well-Spent
Did some henna on Andrew's foot last night... the toenails hardly took any stain, which is weird... and my hand design's already fading. :/ I hope it's the fact I used old lime juice on this batch of henna and not the henna itself that's producing these results. I've got some fresh lime juice (from concentrate, of course :D ) and apple cider vinegar handy, and maybe that will boost the dye release for my next batch. I'm hesitant to charge anybody for any tattoos done with this mix, since it may be crappy henna... but if I don't sell any designs, I can't buy better henna, and thus I remain unequipped and broke. That said, I'm hesitant to charge anybody for anything period. Meh well. I'm just beginning to adapt Alucard's glove design for a henna tattoo for Andrew. Hopefully it won't be as time-consuming as I expect.
Watched Saw with Andrew last night... substantially creepy and gross, though afterwards we critiqued it to hell. Which made me feel better. And I don't expect anybody to seize me and stick me in some horrible tortuous game, so that helped too. Nothing can mess me up like that freaky episode of X-Files with that little Indian sikh dude... *shudder* And tonight we watched Waterworld-- good stuff.
The first round of sea monkeys have been given to the fishies. They reacted like cats surrounded by dust motes-- much frenzied snatching and batting, after their initial 'WTF is this floating shit?' response. Grimm is quite jolly of late. He and Tarquin have both made impressive bubble nests in recent days, though the filter eventually dispersed Tarquin's and my frequent vase-moving tore up Grimm's. Grimm isn't too bummed though... he's nosing the pebbles in search of vagrant sea monkeys.
I've been reading more on parrot behavior, especially after an encounter with a pseudo-bird aficionado at Petland. That dude was whacked. Even more so than I initially thought. Parrot conditioning is right at the current consensus on child raising: punishment bad/reinforcement good & aggression bad/passive techniques good. That guy was so dense he referred to a military macaw as 'half parrot.' Um... WTF? ALL macaws are parrots, and so are cockatoos, cockatiels, lories, conures, Amazons, and even falcons and owls. I didn't know raptors were parrots until recently, but ISN'T IT OBVIOUS THAT MACAWS ARE PARROTS?? Anyways...
There's a Willy Wonka shirt at Hot Topic I want... along with a billion other things. :) Andrew and I got into a philosophical discussion tonight about college. I asked him if he was planning on coming back next semester, since it occurred to me that if I were to withdraw for any reason, I would be stronnnngly tempted to not come back. And sure enough, he's not sure if he wants to come back. He's of the same mindset I am... Classes have been pretty disappointing, a rehash of high school at best. Spike's Utopia class would have been radical and refreshing... if I hadn't met Andrew the semester before, when he exposed me to The Liberal Way. I don't know what it is... I know I'm not an apathetic person, but I feel so... flat... right now. I was hoping college would be a release of some kind, some insanely inspiring experience. Bah humbug. I'm not inspired to DO anything-- reading, writing, music, drawing, language, or otherwise. I've learned a lot-- but only maybe 5% of it's been in class. Right now I'm hanging in because I like being around my friends, because I'm not confident I can be successful without a college degree, because I have some lingering hope for a worthwhile education, and because of... situational inertia, for lack of a better term.
I've decided against an art minor, much for the same reason I decided against a music minor: I don't really give a damn about my peers' art, or music, or whatever... or even historically significant works. It's interesting on a case-by-case basis, but I don't want to do reports on art exhibits or feel obligated to attend every friggin' recital. And the art class I'm in right now is mostly superfluous... I'm acquainted with everything she's teaching, and she even asked if I'd taken an art course before. No-- it's just instinct and what I come across in random drawing books. Why do I have to relive it in college-- just so I can get official credit? Gahhhhh... it's so mundane and annoying and repetitive. There are interesting aspects of art-- mostly videos and Valerie's anecdotes. But I have a hard time tolerating recycled information. I know some overlap's to be expected, but godDAMN. It's nice that I get to draw, and I had hoped this class would motivate me to draw more. But no. I mostly enjoy it while I do it, but I have no impetus TO do it. And Valerie's interesting one-on-one... but I'm not an art person, not in that sense. She asked me what I thought about some Van Gogh sketches she'd presented in class, and I appreciated that she saw something worthwhile and art-kindred in me-- but I didn't really care about the sketches. They were nice, but... I'm more self-absorbed, concerned with my own progress, etc. Not the fabulous tapestry that is the art community, or whatever.
Creative writing is a similar matter, though I have a few more extrapersonal interests... I do enjoy reading and evaluating literature, but not a lot of literature, and for some reason not now. I can muster more interest in my peers' writing than their art or music, but I only pick on superficial things... commas, spelling, general aesthetics. I don't care too much about the meaning, unless it's executed cleverly. And aside from that... I dread writing. Not just the prospect of class criticism, but the process of writing itself. I had ambitions to be a fiction writer, but I'm a stronger poet... though I habitually avoid poetry. And I'm afraid I've gotten to a stage in writing poetry where I have to take it to another level, add some kind of complexity... but I'm at a loss. I look at Robert Frost and Gwendolyn Brooks and other contemporary poets and feel stunted. I suppose it's just insecurity and a hopelessness bred by gauging myself to The Greats, but I can't get over it. Shouldn't I be eager to excel? I can't read a great poem and just enjoy it... I have to compare my own fluff to it. I feel pathetic and whiny, but whatever. I feel desperate to make something fantastic, but I also don't want to draw it out of me. Blech.
I would like it if I could just do henna right now. Practice it, read the culture, apply it to some clients, meet other henna artists and have productive conversations sans envy, maybe go to Morocco and India, do Ren fairs and parties, set up a business, work for myself-- maybe with a couple others, be free to dabble in writing and art as it suited me, get some animals and shack up somewhere nice with Andrew. That's all really. If I thought I could do that without a college degree, without horrific loads of stress, without disappointing lots of people (including myself)-- I would. Forget core classes and lectures and 'the senior capstone experience' and stupid service learning drudgery and cheap enrichment. Maybe if I could get different classes... I WANT TO LEARN-- just not what's available to learn here. Dr. Gee mentioned grad school, maybe at Iowa or somewhere with a fairly distinguished creative writing grad program... and I like the idea. More because it would get me somewhere else than because it would be significant for my writing career, but I'll take it. Who knows, maybe I'll actually want to write if I approach that level. Mmm... I'd also like to do comics. Comics are neat... I've been flipping through lots of how-to-draw manga/comics/people books in Barnes & Noble, and it's tempting. Maybe I could do comics and henna for a living. Or editing. Or even become a tropical fish guru/occasional poet. I dunno. College is just so unappealing right now. /rant
So yeah... maybe I'll finally get back to my colorbar project. ;)
Watched Saw with Andrew last night... substantially creepy and gross, though afterwards we critiqued it to hell. Which made me feel better. And I don't expect anybody to seize me and stick me in some horrible tortuous game, so that helped too. Nothing can mess me up like that freaky episode of X-Files with that little Indian sikh dude... *shudder* And tonight we watched Waterworld-- good stuff.
The first round of sea monkeys have been given to the fishies. They reacted like cats surrounded by dust motes-- much frenzied snatching and batting, after their initial 'WTF is this floating shit?' response. Grimm is quite jolly of late. He and Tarquin have both made impressive bubble nests in recent days, though the filter eventually dispersed Tarquin's and my frequent vase-moving tore up Grimm's. Grimm isn't too bummed though... he's nosing the pebbles in search of vagrant sea monkeys.
I've been reading more on parrot behavior, especially after an encounter with a pseudo-bird aficionado at Petland. That dude was whacked. Even more so than I initially thought. Parrot conditioning is right at the current consensus on child raising: punishment bad/reinforcement good & aggression bad/passive techniques good. That guy was so dense he referred to a military macaw as 'half parrot.' Um... WTF? ALL macaws are parrots, and so are cockatoos, cockatiels, lories, conures, Amazons, and even falcons and owls. I didn't know raptors were parrots until recently, but ISN'T IT OBVIOUS THAT MACAWS ARE PARROTS?? Anyways...
There's a Willy Wonka shirt at Hot Topic I want... along with a billion other things. :) Andrew and I got into a philosophical discussion tonight about college. I asked him if he was planning on coming back next semester, since it occurred to me that if I were to withdraw for any reason, I would be stronnnngly tempted to not come back. And sure enough, he's not sure if he wants to come back. He's of the same mindset I am... Classes have been pretty disappointing, a rehash of high school at best. Spike's Utopia class would have been radical and refreshing... if I hadn't met Andrew the semester before, when he exposed me to The Liberal Way. I don't know what it is... I know I'm not an apathetic person, but I feel so... flat... right now. I was hoping college would be a release of some kind, some insanely inspiring experience. Bah humbug. I'm not inspired to DO anything-- reading, writing, music, drawing, language, or otherwise. I've learned a lot-- but only maybe 5% of it's been in class. Right now I'm hanging in because I like being around my friends, because I'm not confident I can be successful without a college degree, because I have some lingering hope for a worthwhile education, and because of... situational inertia, for lack of a better term.
I've decided against an art minor, much for the same reason I decided against a music minor: I don't really give a damn about my peers' art, or music, or whatever... or even historically significant works. It's interesting on a case-by-case basis, but I don't want to do reports on art exhibits or feel obligated to attend every friggin' recital. And the art class I'm in right now is mostly superfluous... I'm acquainted with everything she's teaching, and she even asked if I'd taken an art course before. No-- it's just instinct and what I come across in random drawing books. Why do I have to relive it in college-- just so I can get official credit? Gahhhhh... it's so mundane and annoying and repetitive. There are interesting aspects of art-- mostly videos and Valerie's anecdotes. But I have a hard time tolerating recycled information. I know some overlap's to be expected, but godDAMN. It's nice that I get to draw, and I had hoped this class would motivate me to draw more. But no. I mostly enjoy it while I do it, but I have no impetus TO do it. And Valerie's interesting one-on-one... but I'm not an art person, not in that sense. She asked me what I thought about some Van Gogh sketches she'd presented in class, and I appreciated that she saw something worthwhile and art-kindred in me-- but I didn't really care about the sketches. They were nice, but... I'm more self-absorbed, concerned with my own progress, etc. Not the fabulous tapestry that is the art community, or whatever.
Creative writing is a similar matter, though I have a few more extrapersonal interests... I do enjoy reading and evaluating literature, but not a lot of literature, and for some reason not now. I can muster more interest in my peers' writing than their art or music, but I only pick on superficial things... commas, spelling, general aesthetics. I don't care too much about the meaning, unless it's executed cleverly. And aside from that... I dread writing. Not just the prospect of class criticism, but the process of writing itself. I had ambitions to be a fiction writer, but I'm a stronger poet... though I habitually avoid poetry. And I'm afraid I've gotten to a stage in writing poetry where I have to take it to another level, add some kind of complexity... but I'm at a loss. I look at Robert Frost and Gwendolyn Brooks and other contemporary poets and feel stunted. I suppose it's just insecurity and a hopelessness bred by gauging myself to The Greats, but I can't get over it. Shouldn't I be eager to excel? I can't read a great poem and just enjoy it... I have to compare my own fluff to it. I feel pathetic and whiny, but whatever. I feel desperate to make something fantastic, but I also don't want to draw it out of me. Blech.
I would like it if I could just do henna right now. Practice it, read the culture, apply it to some clients, meet other henna artists and have productive conversations sans envy, maybe go to Morocco and India, do Ren fairs and parties, set up a business, work for myself-- maybe with a couple others, be free to dabble in writing and art as it suited me, get some animals and shack up somewhere nice with Andrew. That's all really. If I thought I could do that without a college degree, without horrific loads of stress, without disappointing lots of people (including myself)-- I would. Forget core classes and lectures and 'the senior capstone experience' and stupid service learning drudgery and cheap enrichment. Maybe if I could get different classes... I WANT TO LEARN-- just not what's available to learn here. Dr. Gee mentioned grad school, maybe at Iowa or somewhere with a fairly distinguished creative writing grad program... and I like the idea. More because it would get me somewhere else than because it would be significant for my writing career, but I'll take it. Who knows, maybe I'll actually want to write if I approach that level. Mmm... I'd also like to do comics. Comics are neat... I've been flipping through lots of how-to-draw manga/comics/people books in Barnes & Noble, and it's tempting. Maybe I could do comics and henna for a living. Or editing. Or even become a tropical fish guru/occasional poet. I dunno. College is just so unappealing right now. /rant
So yeah... maybe I'll finally get back to my colorbar project. ;)