"like a melody"
Let me just say I'm really enjoying the weather lately. Waking at five in the morning, while not a pleasant task, is much more pleasant when there's a thick fog hanging outside. It transforms my quiet street into something more magical than the usual suburbia. There's even dew on my car. I was cold stepping out of the shower. We're finally swinging down from the searing heat of summer. Hot cocoa and Duraflame logs are not too far away. Ah, autumn in California.
School started on Monday. I'd like to point out that I successfully made it two both of my day classes. My night class doesn't start until next week, so even though i showed up for it and wondered what the hell was going on, I have not really made any of the usual embarrassing schedule mistakes. Besides two multimedia/graphic design classes, I'm taking a beginning drawing course. I'm both excited and nervous all at once. As I've lamented to Kathy over and over again, I don't want to be that girl. You know, the one who's idea of art is sketchy stick figures. I know it's not a contest, but I tend to avoid classes I don't excel in. This will be an exercise in humility, I think.
July was busy. Rachel and I melted through the first part of it; taking refugee in her local Target and soaking up their air conditioning while forced plastic dragons and penguins into a Noah's Ark scene. We met Target's current mascot at the Scottish Highland Games. There was sushi making and jazz clubbing and superhero hemp pizza eating. Fiona and Damien, who's shed his meloncholy feel in exchange for rock star rage that doesn't quite fit him. Fiona's Slow Like Honey made me ache. I came back six (yes, count them -- six) pounds lighter and delightfully relaxed. Oh, and inked.
I had a day of rest before the Comic Con blew into town. In retrospect, it was a lot of fun. It's easier to push aside the memory of body-clogged aisle ways and early mornings spent waiting alone for the trolley. I've had more fun times there in past years, I think, but it was still entertaining. I saw Margaret Weis for the third year in a row, which always gives me a little thrill because she's such a.. well, person. Just a regular woman with character so fleshed out in her mind that I can almost see him reflected in her face and gestures.
(Pause. Time for school. And maybe breakfast. Mmm.. breakfast.)
9:30 AM - Back. No breakfast. No Starbucks. Gotta stick it out until one as I have no cash and the ATM isn't working on campus. I suppose I could drive off campus and find something, but.. meh.
Other Comic Con highlights? The Lost panel. The Beerfest panel (not because I care one way or another about the film, but the panelists chasing down the questioner and beating him in the aisle, then stealing his badge and dunking it in a pitcher of water -- "How's this for pre-registration, bitch!" -- was the funniest thing I saw all Con). Running into Jorge Garcia on the sellers floor and following him blindly until he stopped to linger at the Acme booth. Hillary Swank's presentation (Happy Leslie? ;D).
One very high point of the Con was Muse. Oh. My. God.
Wait, wait. Let me say it again:
Oh. My. God.
Usually my enjoyment of concerts is limited to seeing artists whose work I'm at least half-way familiar with. At concert date, I'd heard the third CD a few times, and listened to only Supermassive Black Hole a zillion times. That was it. So I was expecting the concert at SOMA to be something I'd dig, but not as much as I would have if I was a real fan. But here's the thing: Muse slayed me. It didn't matter that I knew the words and music to only one song, as everything was compelling. The guitar work, the lights, the voice.. hell, the crowd itself. I know that I wasn't covered with only my own sweat. The mob moved together as a living, breathing creature that kept reaching out to the band, inhaling their sound to desperately sustain itself. I danced until my knees were weak. Until my jeans and legs were glued together. Until I was dizzy. And when it was over, after the, what, third real encore (honest-to-god encores, not those cheap oh, let's leave the lights off and pretend to leave stunts), I wanted more. And more.
Man.
After Con we shipped out to Vegas for our annual money spending and drinking binge. It was my first time staying downtown (at the Golden Nugget) and I think I liked it more than staying on the strip. It was cheaper, the crowds weren't bad, and yet our rooms were still quite nice. None of us really won a damn thing, but we did all chip in to help Las Vegas pay their electric bill this month. Stupid slot machines. Notable Vegas experiences? Well, we went to a strip club (though year after year, that's becoming less and less notable, isn't it? I think I've hit a strip club every year since my twenty first birthday). We played Never Have I Ever late one night in a casino cafeteria-esque area, sipping White Russians and Sam Adams. Roberto fell out of his chair. Twice. Good times.
Since Vegas I've been taking it easy. The loft is being constructed slowly but surely. My birthday Laughlin trip scheduled for this weekend has been cancelled in favor of working on the loft. I'm bummed about not taking off, I suppose, but I'd really rather have my house come back together than go out drinking and gambling again. Besides, last night I was treated to a delicious meal and drinks at the Yard House. Mmm. Espresso martinis.
Oh! And I got the most wonderful gift from Kathy. She made me another book, but this time rather than filling it herself, the pages are blank. My first thought is, a journal! But she said she knew I wouldn't write in them, afraid to mess up the book, so rather than the book being for me to write in, we're supposed to write stories together. And she's going to illustrate them. Children's stories. There's room for five short ones. I'll post pictures of the cover when I'm home. I love it. Leave it to Kathy to get me writing again. I've been thinking about stories on and off all morning.
So that's pretty much everything. Today I turned twenty-four years old. One year to the quarter-life crisis. Must think of something fabulous to do.
School started on Monday. I'd like to point out that I successfully made it two both of my day classes. My night class doesn't start until next week, so even though i showed up for it and wondered what the hell was going on, I have not really made any of the usual embarrassing schedule mistakes. Besides two multimedia/graphic design classes, I'm taking a beginning drawing course. I'm both excited and nervous all at once. As I've lamented to Kathy over and over again, I don't want to be that girl. You know, the one who's idea of art is sketchy stick figures. I know it's not a contest, but I tend to avoid classes I don't excel in. This will be an exercise in humility, I think.
July was busy. Rachel and I melted through the first part of it; taking refugee in her local Target and soaking up their air conditioning while forced plastic dragons and penguins into a Noah's Ark scene. We met Target's current mascot at the Scottish Highland Games. There was sushi making and jazz clubbing and superhero hemp pizza eating. Fiona and Damien, who's shed his meloncholy feel in exchange for rock star rage that doesn't quite fit him. Fiona's Slow Like Honey made me ache. I came back six (yes, count them -- six) pounds lighter and delightfully relaxed. Oh, and inked.
I had a day of rest before the Comic Con blew into town. In retrospect, it was a lot of fun. It's easier to push aside the memory of body-clogged aisle ways and early mornings spent waiting alone for the trolley. I've had more fun times there in past years, I think, but it was still entertaining. I saw Margaret Weis for the third year in a row, which always gives me a little thrill because she's such a.. well, person. Just a regular woman with character so fleshed out in her mind that I can almost see him reflected in her face and gestures.
(Pause. Time for school. And maybe breakfast. Mmm.. breakfast.)
9:30 AM - Back. No breakfast. No Starbucks. Gotta stick it out until one as I have no cash and the ATM isn't working on campus. I suppose I could drive off campus and find something, but.. meh.
Other Comic Con highlights? The Lost panel. The Beerfest panel (not because I care one way or another about the film, but the panelists chasing down the questioner and beating him in the aisle, then stealing his badge and dunking it in a pitcher of water -- "How's this for pre-registration, bitch!" -- was the funniest thing I saw all Con). Running into Jorge Garcia on the sellers floor and following him blindly until he stopped to linger at the Acme booth. Hillary Swank's presentation (Happy Leslie? ;D).
One very high point of the Con was Muse. Oh. My. God.
Wait, wait. Let me say it again:
Oh. My. God.
Usually my enjoyment of concerts is limited to seeing artists whose work I'm at least half-way familiar with. At concert date, I'd heard the third CD a few times, and listened to only Supermassive Black Hole a zillion times. That was it. So I was expecting the concert at SOMA to be something I'd dig, but not as much as I would have if I was a real fan. But here's the thing: Muse slayed me. It didn't matter that I knew the words and music to only one song, as everything was compelling. The guitar work, the lights, the voice.. hell, the crowd itself. I know that I wasn't covered with only my own sweat. The mob moved together as a living, breathing creature that kept reaching out to the band, inhaling their sound to desperately sustain itself. I danced until my knees were weak. Until my jeans and legs were glued together. Until I was dizzy. And when it was over, after the, what, third real encore (honest-to-god encores, not those cheap oh, let's leave the lights off and pretend to leave stunts), I wanted more. And more.
Man.
After Con we shipped out to Vegas for our annual money spending and drinking binge. It was my first time staying downtown (at the Golden Nugget) and I think I liked it more than staying on the strip. It was cheaper, the crowds weren't bad, and yet our rooms were still quite nice. None of us really won a damn thing, but we did all chip in to help Las Vegas pay their electric bill this month. Stupid slot machines. Notable Vegas experiences? Well, we went to a strip club (though year after year, that's becoming less and less notable, isn't it? I think I've hit a strip club every year since my twenty first birthday). We played Never Have I Ever late one night in a casino cafeteria-esque area, sipping White Russians and Sam Adams. Roberto fell out of his chair. Twice. Good times.
Since Vegas I've been taking it easy. The loft is being constructed slowly but surely. My birthday Laughlin trip scheduled for this weekend has been cancelled in favor of working on the loft. I'm bummed about not taking off, I suppose, but I'd really rather have my house come back together than go out drinking and gambling again. Besides, last night I was treated to a delicious meal and drinks at the Yard House. Mmm. Espresso martinis.
Oh! And I got the most wonderful gift from Kathy. She made me another book, but this time rather than filling it herself, the pages are blank. My first thought is, a journal! But she said she knew I wouldn't write in them, afraid to mess up the book, so rather than the book being for me to write in, we're supposed to write stories together. And she's going to illustrate them. Children's stories. There's room for five short ones. I'll post pictures of the cover when I'm home. I love it. Leave it to Kathy to get me writing again. I've been thinking about stories on and off all morning.
So that's pretty much everything. Today I turned twenty-four years old. One year to the quarter-life crisis. Must think of something fabulous to do.