So remember those Bud commercials from eight years ago? The guys doing the "whassup" action? Had me rollin' each time I saw those. Here it is in case you don't remember:
Remember?
So anyway, Matt sends me an email today directing me to another "whassup" video. Things have changed since then. This version reflects that. So fuckin' great I had to share it with you guys!
Whassup?
Change. That's what.
Vote.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Friday, October 03, 2008
I make things that glow in the dark...
I know this is a totally random posting, but I need to feel proud of something right now while I'm in the middle of midterm hell working on a project I'm not quite happy with yet. There's potential. But then again, there's always potential...
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
People I Want to Kill, Vol. IV
Yes people, you have read correctly! A new P.I.W.T.K since 2007. This prick deserves it...
I bet you all are thinking "Jeez, Lotus... you seem to have a lot of pent up aggression! Another People I Want to Kill? Pray tell... what in the world is going on?"
Or something to that effect.
Well, let me tell you, dear reader... it's either the culmination of three and a half years of stress, no sleep, excess caffeine and nicotine OR I'm just experiencing an increasing amount of assholes who make me want to go postal on them.
And yes, I do have a lot of aggression.
Let us begin...
For this installment of P.I.W.T.K., I would love to drag naked with a runaway chariot over shards of broken glass my Condescending Elitist Construction Documents Instructor. Again, no names. But those of you who go to my school know exactly who I'm talking about.
Yep. You read correctly. I want to have this asshole stripped down to his birthday suit by self proclaimed sodomites (they can butt fuck him all they want while they strip him down), tie him up by the pinky toes (both of them to ensure he stays attached. If they break... oh fucking well.) and secure him to the rear of an old rickety chariot a la "Gladiator" or "Troy". The bumpier the better. I would have a really pissed off bucking bronco drag his sorry ass over a HUGE field of broken glass infected with Hepatitis A,B, & C, The Plague, and the Ebola Virus. Don't worry - the bronco will have a protective suit on so he/she does not get infected. This is an animal friendly blog, people.
Here is a little diagram that my friend and fellow classmate of the Condescending Elitist Prick's class, Alaska drew of the proposed path of travel including obstacles and the infected shards of glass:
I propose dragging and jostling him around until all his skin has ripped off. All screams and cries of agony will be ignored as those who happen to be witness to this joyous event will be equipped with earplugs that block out ALL sound, a camera, and popcorn.
Of course, I know that those of you who are not part of this asshole's class are wondering why I want to kill him. What could this "man" have possibly done to incur such wrath from a general pacifist such as myself.
Well first let me show you a couple of pictures drawn by Alaska that may explain just a little of what this man is:
and
Why is he "wrong" in this picture? Because this man is big headed as this picture clearly demonstrates. The previous picture also has comments added by Alaska showing just how big his head is and can get during the course of one class. It's as if his whole purpose in life is to constantly berate and belittle the students in his classes. I felt this in studio last semester and I'm feeling it (magnified 100%) in this fucked up class. Let me give you a "for instance":
He will ask the class a question and then stand at the front of the class waiting for us to answer the question. The problem is... WE DON'T FUCKING KNOW THE ANSWER! Why??? Because he never TAUGHT us whatever the fuck he's asking us. It comes out of the blue! Isn't he supposed to, say, I don't know, TEACH us something in one class, and THEN ask us the fucking question? So that we know what the hell he's talking about, in what context, etc etc??? NO! He asks us questions about shit we've never been taught and that he has no intention of teaching us unless we happen to glean the information from his big ass head through osmosis. You're a teacher, you fuckin' asshole! TEACH THE FUCKING CLASS!!!!
Now, this is a Construction Documents class. I won't get into the semantics of the class or the whole thing about "It's 2 units, yet we probably do more work in this class than our 5 unit studio class" or the "I already have a studio class where I must design something, so why in this class do I have to design yet another thing???" or "why the hell aren't I learning how to create a set of construction documents in the first month and then being asked questions about construction documents after that first month and expected to know all the answers as if I've already been taught those things?". Oh wait, I did get into it...
This man is so constantly "wrong" in how he treats us as not only students, but also in how he treats us as HUMANS. Example: When turning in a sheet from our construction document for review (which, by the way, we question the whole way but he's too good to answer our questions citing: "I'm not here to teach you CAD. You should already know it." even though the questions are about the CONSTRUCTION DOCUMENT that he is SUPPOSED to be teaching us about...), this sheet must be folded in a certain way. I have a friend in my class who was not in attendance during the all important This Is How You Fold A Construction Doc Sheet For Turn In demonstration. She folded it and turned it in. He asked during class, "Who's is this?" holding up her sheet. She started to walk over to him as she stated that the sheet was for her team. Instead of handing it to her once she approached his "throne", he cast off the offensive document and THREW IT ON THE FLOOR. She had to lean over and pick it up. She was only off by one fold.
WHAT. A. PRICK.
Those of us in the back of the classroom watched in horror as an audible gasp escaped our lips in unison. We could not believe what he had just witnessed. I, personally, wanted to jump over the series of desks that divided us and smack him with my slippers right there. Fuck that. I wanted to stab him in the eye with my sharpie. Fuckin' asshole.
In addition to all I've stated so far, he says we aren't listening when we are and constantly makes us feel as if we're insignificant pieces of shit that he just happened to accidentally step on. You can tell he thinks we ARE pieces of shit because the contempt he has for us just oozes from his pores. He looks at us as if we're stupid. He scoffs at us and rolls his eyes when we speak. He thinks that we should already know in one month of non-teaching what took him YEARS in an office to figure out. I, frankly, don't give a shit that he's been doing this for 20+ years or however long he's been doing this. We've been his students for one month. We don't know shit. And he's not teaching us shit.
I want to know...
How does our school keep paying an "instructor" who continuously demoralizes his students with every poisonous word that escapes his inflated head. Why is it that he left one department who despised him in order to to instill a sense of loathing and insignificance to another department? How does he continue to think that we, as students, must respect him solely based on the fact that he is our "instructor"?
In order to get respect from us you Elitist Egocentric Douche Bag, you must first respect the fact that we are students, eager to learn. And that you must TEACH us. And even though we are "students" we are first and foremost people, who share this godforsaken earth with you. We are just as good as you think you are. Respect for you as instructor is based on the fact that you teach us and teach us well. You need to earn this privilege. You give, we give. Enough said.
So with all that said, I'm going to start looking at finding that chariot, creating the pathway and breaking some glass. I'm going to break into the CDC labs and find some Hep A, B, & C, Ebola Virus and Plague vials.
Get ready you fascist pig. I'm gunning for you.
I bet you all are thinking "Jeez, Lotus... you seem to have a lot of pent up aggression! Another People I Want to Kill? Pray tell... what in the world is going on?"
Or something to that effect.
Well, let me tell you, dear reader... it's either the culmination of three and a half years of stress, no sleep, excess caffeine and nicotine OR I'm just experiencing an increasing amount of assholes who make me want to go postal on them.
And yes, I do have a lot of aggression.
Let us begin...
For this installment of P.I.W.T.K., I would love to drag naked with a runaway chariot over shards of broken glass my Condescending Elitist Construction Documents Instructor. Again, no names. But those of you who go to my school know exactly who I'm talking about.
Yep. You read correctly. I want to have this asshole stripped down to his birthday suit by self proclaimed sodomites (they can butt fuck him all they want while they strip him down), tie him up by the pinky toes (both of them to ensure he stays attached. If they break... oh fucking well.) and secure him to the rear of an old rickety chariot a la "Gladiator" or "Troy". The bumpier the better. I would have a really pissed off bucking bronco drag his sorry ass over a HUGE field of broken glass infected with Hepatitis A,B, & C, The Plague, and the Ebola Virus. Don't worry - the bronco will have a protective suit on so he/she does not get infected. This is an animal friendly blog, people.
Here is a little diagram that my friend and fellow classmate of the Condescending Elitist Prick's class, Alaska drew of the proposed path of travel including obstacles and the infected shards of glass:
I propose dragging and jostling him around until all his skin has ripped off. All screams and cries of agony will be ignored as those who happen to be witness to this joyous event will be equipped with earplugs that block out ALL sound, a camera, and popcorn.
Of course, I know that those of you who are not part of this asshole's class are wondering why I want to kill him. What could this "man" have possibly done to incur such wrath from a general pacifist such as myself.
Well first let me show you a couple of pictures drawn by Alaska that may explain just a little of what this man is:
and
Why is he "wrong" in this picture? Because this man is big headed as this picture clearly demonstrates. The previous picture also has comments added by Alaska showing just how big his head is and can get during the course of one class. It's as if his whole purpose in life is to constantly berate and belittle the students in his classes. I felt this in studio last semester and I'm feeling it (magnified 100%) in this fucked up class. Let me give you a "for instance":He will ask the class a question and then stand at the front of the class waiting for us to answer the question. The problem is... WE DON'T FUCKING KNOW THE ANSWER! Why??? Because he never TAUGHT us whatever the fuck he's asking us. It comes out of the blue! Isn't he supposed to, say, I don't know, TEACH us something in one class, and THEN ask us the fucking question? So that we know what the hell he's talking about, in what context, etc etc??? NO! He asks us questions about shit we've never been taught and that he has no intention of teaching us unless we happen to glean the information from his big ass head through osmosis. You're a teacher, you fuckin' asshole! TEACH THE FUCKING CLASS!!!!
Now, this is a Construction Documents class. I won't get into the semantics of the class or the whole thing about "It's 2 units, yet we probably do more work in this class than our 5 unit studio class" or the "I already have a studio class where I must design something, so why in this class do I have to design yet another thing???" or "why the hell aren't I learning how to create a set of construction documents in the first month and then being asked questions about construction documents after that first month and expected to know all the answers as if I've already been taught those things?". Oh wait, I did get into it...
This man is so constantly "wrong" in how he treats us as not only students, but also in how he treats us as HUMANS. Example: When turning in a sheet from our construction document for review (which, by the way, we question the whole way but he's too good to answer our questions citing: "I'm not here to teach you CAD. You should already know it." even though the questions are about the CONSTRUCTION DOCUMENT that he is SUPPOSED to be teaching us about...), this sheet must be folded in a certain way. I have a friend in my class who was not in attendance during the all important This Is How You Fold A Construction Doc Sheet For Turn In demonstration. She folded it and turned it in. He asked during class, "Who's is this?" holding up her sheet. She started to walk over to him as she stated that the sheet was for her team. Instead of handing it to her once she approached his "throne", he cast off the offensive document and THREW IT ON THE FLOOR. She had to lean over and pick it up. She was only off by one fold.
WHAT. A. PRICK.
Those of us in the back of the classroom watched in horror as an audible gasp escaped our lips in unison. We could not believe what he had just witnessed. I, personally, wanted to jump over the series of desks that divided us and smack him with my slippers right there. Fuck that. I wanted to stab him in the eye with my sharpie. Fuckin' asshole.
In addition to all I've stated so far, he says we aren't listening when we are and constantly makes us feel as if we're insignificant pieces of shit that he just happened to accidentally step on. You can tell he thinks we ARE pieces of shit because the contempt he has for us just oozes from his pores. He looks at us as if we're stupid. He scoffs at us and rolls his eyes when we speak. He thinks that we should already know in one month of non-teaching what took him YEARS in an office to figure out. I, frankly, don't give a shit that he's been doing this for 20+ years or however long he's been doing this. We've been his students for one month. We don't know shit. And he's not teaching us shit.
I want to know...
How does our school keep paying an "instructor" who continuously demoralizes his students with every poisonous word that escapes his inflated head. Why is it that he left one department who despised him in order to to instill a sense of loathing and insignificance to another department? How does he continue to think that we, as students, must respect him solely based on the fact that he is our "instructor"?
In order to get respect from us you Elitist Egocentric Douche Bag, you must first respect the fact that we are students, eager to learn. And that you must TEACH us. And even though we are "students" we are first and foremost people, who share this godforsaken earth with you. We are just as good as you think you are. Respect for you as instructor is based on the fact that you teach us and teach us well. You need to earn this privilege. You give, we give. Enough said.
So with all that said, I'm going to start looking at finding that chariot, creating the pathway and breaking some glass. I'm going to break into the CDC labs and find some Hep A, B, & C, Ebola Virus and Plague vials.
Get ready you fascist pig. I'm gunning for you.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Darfur Diaspora Project
And midterms are seven days away. Yikes!
Monday, September 29, 2008
This is what a mouse can do if you're not careful
That's what I get for not clicking in the correct position. ;)
Friday, September 12, 2008
People I Want to Kill, Vol. III
Originally posted on myspace: March 19, 2007 - Monday
People I Want to Kill, Vol. III
Current mood: exhausted
Don't have much time, but I needed a small break from my midterm work to give you three people who read my lowly little blog the latest installment of P.I.W.T.K:
Here goes:
People I Want to Kill, Vol. III
This one is simple. One word. Me.
Yes, I want to kill me. I want to die. I want to sleep forever. I want to take a dirt nap. I would like to push up daisies...
The method of my demise? Well, that's easy. It's already begun and has been in the works for two years now... SCHOOL.
Yes, school. It's killing me. If school doesn't kill me, nicotine will. Who will get to me first? Time will tell. Yet another all nighter with more nicotine and caffeine coursing through my beleaguered system. And if those two things don't get to me fast enough, I'm sure that I'll accidentally stab myself in the carotid artery while building a model with no sleep, and bleed to death.
I'd jump out the window, but I live on the first floor. The most I'd get would be some scratches and some bruises that would hopefully make a nice pattern on my unshaven legs.
Alright. I have to get back to this shit.
People I Want to Kill, Vol. III
Current mood: exhausted
Don't have much time, but I needed a small break from my midterm work to give you three people who read my lowly little blog the latest installment of P.I.W.T.K:
Here goes:
People I Want to Kill, Vol. III
This one is simple. One word. Me.
Yes, I want to kill me. I want to die. I want to sleep forever. I want to take a dirt nap. I would like to push up daisies...
The method of my demise? Well, that's easy. It's already begun and has been in the works for two years now... SCHOOL.
Yes, school. It's killing me. If school doesn't kill me, nicotine will. Who will get to me first? Time will tell. Yet another all nighter with more nicotine and caffeine coursing through my beleaguered system. And if those two things don't get to me fast enough, I'm sure that I'll accidentally stab myself in the carotid artery while building a model with no sleep, and bleed to death.
I'd jump out the window, but I live on the first floor. The most I'd get would be some scratches and some bruises that would hopefully make a nice pattern on my unshaven legs.
Alright. I have to get back to this shit.
People I Want to Kill, Vol. II
Originally posted on myspace: December 5, 2006 - Tuesday
People I Want to Kill Vol. 2
Current mood: annoyed
As I sit here in the computer lab waiting for this slow ass plotter to plot out my floor plans so I can build my model under 24 hours so I can be finished in time for pin up (why such a short amount of time? don't ask. I'll write another blog about it... but I'll let you know that that installment will include the first "non person" people I would like to kill... my computer - or rather, the dead computer that fucked up my life... I digress)...
So anyway, I'm sitting here waiting for suck ass plot... and I'm sitting next to Laura who, I have just discovered, has already finished her model. FINISHED HER MUTHERFUCKING MODEL!!! I can't believe that shit. Of course, HER computer didn't fry and fuck up her life and her progress for final presentation, so of course, she finished. So as a result, I have decided to include Laura in the People I Want to Kill series. Don't get me wrong. I love the girl. She's one of my Insomnia Crew girls and a homegirl for life, but right now, she deserves to be the focus of my wrath. Here goes:
People I want to Kill Vol. 2: LAURA FERGUSON.
I want to kill you Laura because you're done. I'm watching you do some weird shit in sketch up right now and look up hopelessly at the printout of your perspective drawings. I don't have those. They went bye bye. So did my plans. So did my elevations. So did my life. You finished your model and the only thing I can think of to do is to set you on fire using the kindling created from your model scraps. I'm going over to studio, finding your model scraps (or someone else s, I don't care), waiting for you to show up, hog tie you and then tie you to the rather large basswood pole I bought the other day, then set the model scraps underneath you and set you afire.
Yeah, that sounds good. Death by fire. FIRE I SAY!!!
So poetic. Using your model scraps as kindling. I'm a fucking genius.
Please excuse the very bad grammar, word usage, and sentence structure in this blog. I'm agro, tired and frankly, FRUSTRATED.
Ok, I'm gonna go hide in a dark corner and wait for Laura to come 'round so I can pounce on her and set her ablaze.
People I Want to Kill Vol. 2
Current mood: annoyed
As I sit here in the computer lab waiting for this slow ass plotter to plot out my floor plans so I can build my model under 24 hours so I can be finished in time for pin up (why such a short amount of time? don't ask. I'll write another blog about it... but I'll let you know that that installment will include the first "non person" people I would like to kill... my computer - or rather, the dead computer that fucked up my life... I digress)...
So anyway, I'm sitting here waiting for suck ass plot... and I'm sitting next to Laura who, I have just discovered, has already finished her model. FINISHED HER MUTHERFUCKING MODEL!!! I can't believe that shit. Of course, HER computer didn't fry and fuck up her life and her progress for final presentation, so of course, she finished. So as a result, I have decided to include Laura in the People I Want to Kill series. Don't get me wrong. I love the girl. She's one of my Insomnia Crew girls and a homegirl for life, but right now, she deserves to be the focus of my wrath. Here goes:
People I want to Kill Vol. 2: LAURA FERGUSON.
I want to kill you Laura because you're done. I'm watching you do some weird shit in sketch up right now and look up hopelessly at the printout of your perspective drawings. I don't have those. They went bye bye. So did my plans. So did my elevations. So did my life. You finished your model and the only thing I can think of to do is to set you on fire using the kindling created from your model scraps. I'm going over to studio, finding your model scraps (or someone else s, I don't care), waiting for you to show up, hog tie you and then tie you to the rather large basswood pole I bought the other day, then set the model scraps underneath you and set you afire.
Yeah, that sounds good. Death by fire. FIRE I SAY!!!
So poetic. Using your model scraps as kindling. I'm a fucking genius.
Please excuse the very bad grammar, word usage, and sentence structure in this blog. I'm agro, tired and frankly, FRUSTRATED.
Ok, I'm gonna go hide in a dark corner and wait for Laura to come 'round so I can pounce on her and set her ablaze.
People I Want to Kill, Vol. I
Originally posted on myspace: November 12, 2006 - Sunday
People I Want to Kill, Vol. 1
Current mood: pissed off
Category: Life
So here's the deal:
I've noticed that my increasing tendency to lean toward the "agro" has disabled me to the point of actual illness. Recent diagnosis? Vertigo. Brought on by stress. I'm not lying. I'm fucking serious. I went to the doctor and everything.
It sucks. It's no fun. Oh fucking well.
So I've decided to compile a list of people I would like to kill, in the hopes that my vertigo will not make so many "visits", shall we say, and disrupt my already hectic life. It will not be an every day thing. Or even an every week thing. And there's usually only one person I would like to see wiped off the earth at a time, so stay tuned and maybe, just maybe, if you feel like killing someone, you can live vicariously through my imagination. This way, we all stay out of jail and we get to vent and, hopefully, feel a little better? Yes?
Let us begin:
For this volume of "People I Want to Kill, Vol. 1", I would so love to carve out the heart of my Contemporary Interior Architecture History and Theories Instructor with a dull, rusty spoon.
Long story short. She's a fucking idiot. I hate her. She makes, not only MY life, but the lives of others in my class, a living hell. I want to say "FUCK YOU" to this bitch as the utensil I stated earlier breaks through the skin and laugh maniacly as I hack away at the breast plate in order to get to the heart. Shit, I don't even know if the bitch has one.... she definitely doesn't have a fucking brain. I won't go into the ins and outs of why I hate her so badly but let's just say this:
This bitch shouldn't be teaching this class. She doesn't know what the fuck she's doing. I am more confused now as we enter the final weeks of class than I was at the beginning of the semester. I'm surprised she's still getting a paycheck. She knows nothing of Theory OR Architecture, let alone Interior Architecture Theory, WHICH THIS CLASS IS ALL ABOUT, and fuck, she DEFINITELY doesn't know how to teach it. Like I said, she's a fucking idiot.
I am preparing a spoon just for this occasion.
If she makes the list a second time, which she may since she's been the main reason for my discontent, panic attacks and vertigo, I'm beating her with a dismembered arm. Preferably her own.
Maybe I'll cut it off with the spoon.
Until next time...
People I Want to Kill, Vol. 1
Current mood: pissed off
Category: Life
So here's the deal:
I've noticed that my increasing tendency to lean toward the "agro" has disabled me to the point of actual illness. Recent diagnosis? Vertigo. Brought on by stress. I'm not lying. I'm fucking serious. I went to the doctor and everything.
It sucks. It's no fun. Oh fucking well.
So I've decided to compile a list of people I would like to kill, in the hopes that my vertigo will not make so many "visits", shall we say, and disrupt my already hectic life. It will not be an every day thing. Or even an every week thing. And there's usually only one person I would like to see wiped off the earth at a time, so stay tuned and maybe, just maybe, if you feel like killing someone, you can live vicariously through my imagination. This way, we all stay out of jail and we get to vent and, hopefully, feel a little better? Yes?
Let us begin:
For this volume of "People I Want to Kill, Vol. 1", I would so love to carve out the heart of my Contemporary Interior Architecture History and Theories Instructor with a dull, rusty spoon.
Long story short. She's a fucking idiot. I hate her. She makes, not only MY life, but the lives of others in my class, a living hell. I want to say "FUCK YOU" to this bitch as the utensil I stated earlier breaks through the skin and laugh maniacly as I hack away at the breast plate in order to get to the heart. Shit, I don't even know if the bitch has one.... she definitely doesn't have a fucking brain. I won't go into the ins and outs of why I hate her so badly but let's just say this:
This bitch shouldn't be teaching this class. She doesn't know what the fuck she's doing. I am more confused now as we enter the final weeks of class than I was at the beginning of the semester. I'm surprised she's still getting a paycheck. She knows nothing of Theory OR Architecture, let alone Interior Architecture Theory, WHICH THIS CLASS IS ALL ABOUT, and fuck, she DEFINITELY doesn't know how to teach it. Like I said, she's a fucking idiot.
I am preparing a spoon just for this occasion.
If she makes the list a second time, which she may since she's been the main reason for my discontent, panic attacks and vertigo, I'm beating her with a dismembered arm. Preferably her own.
Maybe I'll cut it off with the spoon.
Until next time...
Hiatus
Sorry for the extended "vacation" from my blog. I've had to deal with some b.s. that I'm sure you all are so very interested in.
And I apologize for what I'm about to post... old blogs. Hahaha! From my myspace blog site. I've decided to transfer over my "People I Want to Kill" series over to this blog and I feel, in order to be as anal as humanly possible, that I must post the first three in the series before I post any new ones.
I will be posting Volume IV soon. In the next couple of days. But for now, please enjoy a stroll down memory lane. Complete with the original post dates. They will be posted as individual posts after this one.
Enjoy dammit!
And I apologize for what I'm about to post... old blogs. Hahaha! From my myspace blog site. I've decided to transfer over my "People I Want to Kill" series over to this blog and I feel, in order to be as anal as humanly possible, that I must post the first three in the series before I post any new ones.
I will be posting Volume IV soon. In the next couple of days. But for now, please enjoy a stroll down memory lane. Complete with the original post dates. They will be posted as individual posts after this one.
Enjoy dammit!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Hermit Style.
No, I'm not going to talk about the style choices of certain hermits (whoever they may be). I'm just realizing that aside from the occasional outing with my guy, my friends and on the VERY rare occasion, my family, I'm basically a hermit. It's really not intentional. I am a very busy woman who works on her projects at home. So I am home ALOT except for when I am working in studio, of course.
It's lonely, Hermit Life. I live alone with my dog, Spencer. He's not much of a conversationalist and he certainly doesn't give me any creative input on any of the designs I'm currently working on. So I do tend to get a touch stir crazy at times. And don't get me started on the paranoia when I've had absolutely no contact from anyone. I start to think that everyone is against me and that they all hate me. I think up conspiracy theories, betrayal scenarios, and even visions of mutiny start to invade my overloaded imagination. All while working on AutoCAD or Rhino Drawings such as this:
Well, that's a Rhino Drawing, but you get the idea...
Anyway, I find myself home alone now, working on yet another project. My final project actually for the summer studio I am DETERMINED to get an A in. Oh yes... the A will be mine... and I'm hoping the schizo part of me doesn't interrupt my creative flow (yeah, I said it) so that I can try to go to bed at a decent hour. I'm hoping around 2 or 3 a.m. That's decent, yes???
At some point today I need to make a crappy physical sketch model. But for now, I sit here alone in front of my computer working in CAD and wishing I could spend more time blogging and working on my book (yes... a BOOK!).
I'll ask Spencer his opinion on what I've done so far but I have a feeling he'll probably just look up at me and then go back to sleep. Silent. As usual.
Freakin' dog.
It's lonely, Hermit Life. I live alone with my dog, Spencer. He's not much of a conversationalist and he certainly doesn't give me any creative input on any of the designs I'm currently working on. So I do tend to get a touch stir crazy at times. And don't get me started on the paranoia when I've had absolutely no contact from anyone. I start to think that everyone is against me and that they all hate me. I think up conspiracy theories, betrayal scenarios, and even visions of mutiny start to invade my overloaded imagination. All while working on AutoCAD or Rhino Drawings such as this:
Well, that's a Rhino Drawing, but you get the idea...
Anyway, I find myself home alone now, working on yet another project. My final project actually for the summer studio I am DETERMINED to get an A in. Oh yes... the A will be mine... and I'm hoping the schizo part of me doesn't interrupt my creative flow (yeah, I said it) so that I can try to go to bed at a decent hour. I'm hoping around 2 or 3 a.m. That's decent, yes???
At some point today I need to make a crappy physical sketch model. But for now, I sit here alone in front of my computer working in CAD and wishing I could spend more time blogging and working on my book (yes... a BOOK!).
I'll ask Spencer his opinion on what I've done so far but I have a feeling he'll probably just look up at me and then go back to sleep. Silent. As usual.
Freakin' dog.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Curves Can Drive a Woman Mad
Studio Shmoodio
By the way... I really don't smile like that when I'm confused over schematics.
I'm liking this mobile blogging thing!
Mobile Blog #1
I Used to be a Bad Ass...
... but I don't think I am now and I don't know how that happened. There used to be a time when I would strut, literally STRUT, around and I knew that my shit did not stink (figuratively speaking, of course). I could do no wrong. I wanted something (a job, a project, a boy, a friend, etc.), I would get it by any and all means necessary to attain whatever it was I desired. I had friends who would tell me that I didn't even need to try or work hard to get what I wanted. It would just come to me.
I was desired. I was sought after. I was wanted.
I was a Bad Ass.
But now, as I get older, I realize that things are a little harder to come by. I don't make friends as easily. I don't know if men even look at me (of course, I do have a boyfriend so that would be a moot point, really), I don't have steady work, and all ideas or inspiration I desire to come never really comes. I struggle harder than I used to and it's becoming quite perplexing.
I no longer live the charmed life I used to lead.
But do I really want that charmed life? Even when I was a Bad Ass there were times when I would question myself and think, "These things come too easily." Then I would become complacent. And then I would get bored. I'm no so easily bored and I definitely am no longer complacent. In fact, I think I have discovered a whole new realm of restlessness I never knew could exist inside of me.
I want to do everything. I want to design, I want to write, I STILL want to direct the few scripts I've written, I want to finish my book, I want to get married, I want to have children, I want, I want, I want...
All this wanting makes me so agitated sometimes that I think I'm going to explode out of my skin. But then I think to myself, "If I do get all these things, what happens once I get them?"
I don't know.
I'm just saying...
I used to be a Bad Ass.
I was desired. I was sought after. I was wanted.
I was a Bad Ass.
But now, as I get older, I realize that things are a little harder to come by. I don't make friends as easily. I don't know if men even look at me (of course, I do have a boyfriend so that would be a moot point, really), I don't have steady work, and all ideas or inspiration I desire to come never really comes. I struggle harder than I used to and it's becoming quite perplexing.
I no longer live the charmed life I used to lead.
But do I really want that charmed life? Even when I was a Bad Ass there were times when I would question myself and think, "These things come too easily." Then I would become complacent. And then I would get bored. I'm no so easily bored and I definitely am no longer complacent. In fact, I think I have discovered a whole new realm of restlessness I never knew could exist inside of me.
I want to do everything. I want to design, I want to write, I STILL want to direct the few scripts I've written, I want to finish my book, I want to get married, I want to have children, I want, I want, I want...
All this wanting makes me so agitated sometimes that I think I'm going to explode out of my skin. But then I think to myself, "If I do get all these things, what happens once I get them?"
I don't know.
I'm just saying...
I used to be a Bad Ass.
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