All Hallows Eve

You Can Look Alive If You Want To.

Not really sure why I'm writing so much. Maybe I have a lot to say?
Lesson on Caillebotte:
painted the 'Floorscrapers', which you like, in 1875, two years before his most famous work 'Rue de Paris, temps de pluie'

He fell into the Impressionist grouping by definition but stylistically he is a Realist. Plus he was rich.Thing about this one is that since Caillebotte was an engineer this whole work is mathematically arranged. Apparently the whole scene depends on a couple o' formulas. Critics hated this because you can't actually see the rain.
Anarchists hated it because it completely ignores the fact that 6 years previous Paris was a commune and people done got killed. This is about as un-politically subversive as art gets.
Today my boss made me eat huevos rancheros. And I found a five dollar bill in a pile of wet leaves at the intersection by the Blue Bridge. Almost fell off my bike trying to pick it up.  

Que la bonté et l'amour vous accompagne au plaisir de vous lire.

Some boy from Algeria just finished a letter with that written to me. I thought it was beautiful in my hungover self at this exact moment in time. not even hungover though, just clear headed with a touch of a ache.

I need a shower, fresh fruit and some water. All are too far from me at this exact moment in time. i woke up early and finished a book- like i knew i would. I brought that magazine that you gave to me  for my birthday last year and read through half of it.

I found a new favorite painting, this is it:

Gustave Cailletbotte, floor scrapers.

ps, mortimer, your writting toooooooooooo much. its nice though, it's like a short quick story to read. 

Just a Polite Little Brain Jog

Remember Muray?

Remember Tissot?

Remember Derain?

This is Post-War Blues

Just realized.We are one of the first generations in a while without a war to fight. I refuse to count the war on "terror." Or military aid.
Do you think that maybe Bush created that war to feel like he did Good, his father had the Gulf War, Bush II's gotta have his own hobby.
I'm in a hella-theoretical "our generation" discussion mood. Last night I went to Atmonic Vaudville and drank several pitchers of beer, talked for hours afterward about what we need to do to create inspiration within the apathetic artists of "our generation."
HOW CAN ART EVER BE CONSIDERED A HOBBY??? ( a lot of the time). I hate that word. It implies that you really enjoy doing something but you are too afraid/ uninspired to actually focus on it. Like "yeah Bob's a banker but he sure likes his little photography hobby." Bob should quit his fucking job, set up a dark room, and do what he loves, the asshole. And you know that no artist leans on their elbow and remembers those days as a kid when he was so good at banking... why didn't he pursue that?
How many people do you know who are truly amazing at something they do maybe sometimes if they have spare time. I hereby declare that it is required that you acknowledge what you are good at, and go from there.
Society (I'm saying it) has imbued this fear in us to try and make it on our own, with our ideas. "Life's not worth living unless you're sure to make it through," hey Dan Mangan??
Maybe I'm just on a high of people asking me my opinion and then listening to the answer. I'm so used to being over-riden by someone else breaking in to talk about diving, about marine life, about MLA format. (to use earlier yesterday afternoon as an example. Try to explain to a group of people about Javanese traditional shadow puppetry and somehow that's a segue back to science)
"I'm ambitious, when giving up"
Dan Mangan can be the soundtrack to my life, ay.

Do something for me today,ok? Today tell someone about an idea you had. Could be a dream, could be a story you invented, could be school related for all I care.
And write it in the comments below, please. I'm feeling bossy today. Best/most interesting/ original/ well thought out/ grammatically correct answer (also known as, chosen randomly) will recieve a mixed CD from yours truly. I'm serious. I want discussion.

so my parents had me, to the disgust of the prostitutes.

Clearly I was not in my right mind yesterday. I apoligize.
Had tea with Zoe today. She said that the history of art is essentially social history, and that anyone studying it who hadn't figured it out yet (directly, the PhD student standing in for our prof today, who seemed to be complete moron) probably never would. We went on to make fun of just plain history majors (sorry Laur), namely the types who wear polo shirts tucked into their khakis and running shoes for every occaison, just in case.

Went to a Tourism Victoria mixer at Darcy's pub this evening. The four of us from Marketa's sat in a dark corner and gossiped while everyone around us made important business contacts. Occaisionally flagging down the waitresses who brought us unlimited free drinks and sliders. Needless to say I got a little tipsy. The one person I did have a conversation with that I didn't know already was this guy named Michael who is the director of Madrona gallery. Trust my luck that the one person who comes crashing into the seat next to me with a handful of pizza had a degree in what I was doing and was right and willing to discuss the profs of the program and all that shit. He gave me a flyer for an opening of
"Contemporary North: Drawings from Cape Dorset" on Nov.5. Didn't get a chance to finish the conversation though, this woman from Vic Events Center came nosing in, gushing about how his wife always makes him the BEST TIES OH MY GOD. I did learn that fall and spring are the busiest times for art galleries... hm.
What else did I learn today? oh yeah!
So you've probably heard of what in the late 19th and early 20th century people/doctors were calling "hysteria"in women: stress and symptoms like flushed cheeks and fainting spells and all that fun stuff. So these women would go to the doctor to get treated for hysteria and GUESS WHAT? The doctors would give them an orgasm. No joke. It was not considered "sexual" even, as long as there was no penetration. This is how the dildo emerged. The dildo was not even considered a sexual item, it just made the doctor's job easier. Anyway I guess people started to figure it out and someone put a dildo in a porno in the 20s so they had to stop the "satisfaction" going on at the MD's.
Friend of mine is taking the History of Sexuality. This whole story is directly taken from a book called O: the intimate history of the orgasm by Jonathan Margolis. Amazon, thinks this book is great.

Those are caribou

His jacket looks like something George would wear.

Listening to "Blue Ridge Mountain", by Fleet Foxes. Not bad, not bad. The apartment smells much better since yours truly made a trek to the dumpster outside.

I have come up with a witty Halloween costume, you will laugh and laugh and laugh. I am a genius. Can't wait for this week to be over.

jump on my train, yeah. My little train of thought.

Moose taste good.

Had a coffee at 4. Now I am full of energy  but have got nowhere to direct it AHHAHAH. Everyone's worst nightmare,basically. Too much of a good thing ain't good at all fool.
I want tuna but I am against eating tuna.
Glorious weather today. Laura nearly insulted a feminist on the bus. I was sitting between them. Made pretty fine improptu mac and cheese. Although to be fair it was fusili.
Actually tonight would be a good night for photo running if it wasn't getting dark so fast. You know, running while taking pictures? It's something the cool kids aren't doing but definetely should be.
As I am having difficulty following my own train of thought, gonna go read someone elses, or something.

	Hooded Fang - Land of Giants .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

To be fair I have never heard this song. Good band though.

i can change my face, don't you remember?

SHHH. Don't use my real name! They'll find me!

Not a lot happening. I swear. I have this rager headache and I came home and the heat was turned up in all the rooms and it was sweltering so I am stripped down to the minimal layers of shirt tucked into pants and no socks. Got the most hilarious stare-down from this guy on a bus while walking home. Took Laura out for birthday pie except I am shamefully broke so she paid her own meal.
Wrote about 7 thousand pages of exams today (we're talking 7 short essays, one long in total) and now I'm supposed to read these three articles to discuss tomorrow so that I can suck up to the prof so he'll write me a recomendation but I seriously think it's gonna be an early bedtime instead.
Just found the most disgusting clump of hair stuck to the bottom of my sock. No idea where the flat-mates are. Kat's been running overdrive and Sarah's sick and depressed. The usual.
Had a dream about Race Rocks (the place) and a music festival in the woods, I think Cliff, Marketa's ex, was in it too. And Evan Pepper.

I am reading Hemingway's Moveable Feast as well as this book about Speakeasies and boom and Depression era Detroit (your fave!) so I looked up abandoned mansions on the google and came up with this picture.
Thinking I should be Jane Avril for Hallowe'en... this year I'm gonna put effort in this, I swear.
What are you doing?
This time last year we were making seasonal comfort food and scraping the dry wall dust out of the bathtub. Wish you were here.

	No Kids - For Halloween .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

dang felix.

Happy birthday laura! Hope all things are doing well on this crazy special day. Over here my toes are cold and I fed your rabbit a carrot. I'm sure that little akon the acorn is thinking of you too on this very special day <3 ps.. why didn't you tell me it was your birthday coming up in the last letter you wrote me? I would have replied with a gigantic birthday message back.  Except you didn't. So you got a sub par reply/return to your last letter mailed to me. I mailed it out friday. you'll see it soon in a mail box near you.

Other then that, I think this blog needs a daily update from me. Today is the monday of all monday.s The fire in the fireplace is roaring strong just feet from me, but my toes- like i said are still cold. My house lacks the internet or phone right now. So I'm trying to be productive with my free time and write this in my editing program and I'll update the blog later when I see some connected wi-fi.

Yesterday the band had a photoshoot. We spent a couple hours on little mountain. By the end I was grumpy, cold and my socks were wet. We all decided that we would have a quick practice and then head out for dinner as a team. It was 'mexican food" and dq ice cream.  I owe jasmind(ah) 10$ on the account that i seem to have lost my money card. Someone could be spending billions of my hard earned cash I as speak. I was really happy to hang out with the new guy of the group though (stefan), I think he will be a good potential member of the group.

I made a huge to-do list to get done.  The look of it is daunting.
Emma, what's new with you?

She took a sad song and made it better (sadder)!

I feel like this picture right now, with cold medicine and caffeine fighting it out in my body.

That's a great quote about books, I heartily agree. However, I also took out ten books from the library today concerning the Fraser River Gold Rush, and have yet to experience promised hordes of men flocking to my apartment door. And a Geography degree would be sick (Or dank, I guess...), what'chu talking about?

Today...I exchanged a smile with a stranger on the bus concerning leggings worn by a young male jogger sitting in front of us. The girl and I started snickering, and the guy must have heard us and turned around, catching our embarrassed eyes. Instead of frowning or shaking his head or just plain ignoring us, he started to laugh. It was really great; I love moments like that, when you're reminded that the people surrounding you are people, and potential friends.

Otherwise, nothing is happening. Frances is watching a movie of the space-wars shoot-em-up variety with her boyfriend. He is...well, Ritchie, you will see for yourself soon, I guess.

This cold is kicking my ass.

waiting for the right time to pull it out and put it on the table

This image is from the Rumpus, literary website extraordinaire. Home of the famed "write like a motherfucker" mugs. Here: http://therumpus.net/
Today the new girl at work informed me that although there is a lot of funding available for Masters degrees, if you get one in Geography it will be completely useless. Luckily land masses aren't my thing.
Today I bought 5 books on credit from selling about 15. However I am still not getting laid.
 Learned what the French word foutre means. Won't write it here.

What a fickle friend we have

today I saw a man with a shit wedding dress over his jeans and tshirt tied to a light post, laughing his head off. I saw 3 pairs of leiderhosen tossed onto 3 beds. I saw ten or more new looking tents clustered around a tree in the rain. I saw a girl in a white poncho trying to use it as a combined jacket/ hood. I saw the beacon of the new Discovery Coffee in James Bay beckoning through the still dark morning, telling me I needed a coffee. Made soaking wet pants almost worth it. I saw the sun come out for a brief 30 minutes while I dragged a dog around the block. Got invited to another Bachelor auction- this time for frisbee players. Finally learned what a POLEMIC paper is. Saw this in National Geographic a while ago. James Nizan)

I was recommended the Kooks new album by a man easily in his 50s, said it was "a phenomenal recording." Looking it up, after the R3-30. Recieved a lecture on selling amps in Victoria. Learned that the word "dank" has replaced the word "sick" in superlatives. As in
"M, just made the dankest eggs"- Jake, Marketa's kid
"...is dank good or bad?"- M, no longer a kid

you never did come in

Typical around this place: put your bowl of cereal down for 20 seconds and when you pick it up again there's a hairball in it. And the hair isn't yours. Looking up Killam Undergrauate Fellowships for Canadians. Gonna try and go study down South for a semester, if you know what I mean. Thinking about it anyway.
Made the mistake of sticking my thumb in a doorhinge last night. 3 guesses on the colour of the nail. Actually I don't even know what coulour you would call that... Puce? (get it Frenchies?)

	Chet Baker - My Funny Valentine .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Anyway. Learnt about an artist today (surprise!) who did performance pieces in which she read to unclaimed bodies of women at the local morgue. And filmed the process. Which makes her sound like a creep so I shall explain.
AHemmmm hem.
In Thailand and other countries in South East Asia there is a text called the Inaow which is read at all (Buddhist) 'funeral' services for the benefit of the dead as much as for the living. The idea being that even though this text is not religious at all it somehow encourages the spirit of the newly dead to move on to the next realm. It is a process of letting go. Not sure if you've heard, but Thailand also has what could be called a... Rampant Sex-Trade problem. So this artist, Araya Rasdjarmrearnsook has entered the morgue of the city in which she lives and there and then performed these so-called 'last rites' for the bodies of women who have been unclaimed by families, by lovers or friends because their sole purpose in life was not to have these attachments, but to have holes into which things could be poked. And she films this and brings the images out to the galleries of posh Europeans who see only a spooky video of a small Thai girl reading in a quiet melodic foreign tongue in an echoing chamber with only a corpse for companion and can leave fealing both spooked and strangely at peace.
Don't say this is disgusting. That is insulting your own intelligence.

ice ice baby.

here, my toes are ready to nearly fall off (almost ready) and i'm trying to snarf down oatmeal. my stomach is sore though. it's horrrrrrible.

yesterday I took a bus to a part of town of nanaimo that i've never ever taken a bus to. south, ya know? carmanagh lives in this neat co-op building thing, and everyone that lives there seems to be really into the occupy movement. I went yesterday, nothing really going. I helped take pictures of this hotel guy giving away free pillows, and then hoolahooped for 10 minutes.  the best part of the day was the earl grey marcaron i had. 

yumyumyum

i get to go to hornby on sunday (yes!)

Experimentaling

That was a word from grade seven that somehow meant "experimenting sexually." Don't ask me how that works, I can't remember.
Today I was asked to explain what an art historian is interested in learning and everyone sat quietly and listened. It was like a wet dream but it was dry and I was awake... The fact that my friend's 35 year old ex-con boyfriend laughed out loud at my major this weekend probably negates this but I'mma run with it anyway.
Considering a career as a pseudo-postmodernist ethnomusicologist.
Just kidding.

	Islands - Where There's a Will There's a Whalebone .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

8:20 already!?

Oh hi there, midterms. I knew you'd show up eventually.

i'm sitting ontop of the washer.

seriously, I am. Today was a sunday of days. my daily fellowship included jehovah witnesses  at my doortstep. it was cold. I wasn't wearing a bra and inside my head I wondered if they really cared. It's always the same guy too who stops by at least once a month, ernie. This Indonesian-dutch old man with a story that always related to the magazines he brought for me. and if i don't answer the door, he asks for me. unconditional love right there.

I peeled 20 pounds of tomatos today. the acidic juices ran down the sides of my arms, forming a puddle on the white tile floor, while assuring me there was this constant burning itch. allergies i guess. I blanched, peeled, chopped and am going to reduce the mess for some down home loving tomato puree. my dreams of becoming an intalian grandmother is coming true before my very eyes. it's like when no one would believe that they would see a black president, and then bam! before our verryy eyes.

marimba meeting tonight was a bust, but more of a hilarious one. though we did all descide that we would potentially go to hornby next weekend and enjoy the outdoor education center, while potentially doing a photoshoot. i like that idea. + carmanagh invited me over sometime this week to eat and work on the coverletters for the presskit. new best friends whaattttt (just joking) it's just nice to hang out with girls i like. who arnt bitches, but good friends.  other then that, nothing new. daily update updated. 

You peeling potatoes while we sonic alligators making records like we smoking crack, now.

Hey.
Was supposed to go climb a montagne but my body got in the way. So I'm lying on the floor of my room, thinking about how good this weather would be if I could only be IN it. A womb's gotta do what a womb's gotta do.
Last night I was in a terrible mood so I went to Bretts house and we carved pumpkins, drank beer and watched Arnold Schwarzaneggar movies in front of the crackling fireplace. You would not Believe the amount of jokes that started with "I thought I saw you in the pumpkin patch earlier M but it was just..."  Signature Saturday afternoon. Tip though:  don't watch Predator then try to find your way home through a shortcut in the forest.
Another tip: if you are not paying for heat the oven also works. Learned those from by friends in the 'burbs.
Also overheard this guy on the bus saying that he is getting $1000 a month in disability cheques. Looked fine to me.
Can I just say that I am working AND going to school (which I still can't afford) and waiting desperately on a student loan and this jackass beside me just moved downtown because he is just ROLLING in his disability cheques.

I'm ready to occupy or something.
Last tip: do not brag about your new found wealth on public transport. This ginger ninja will find you.

frickin' Freida

Been listening to Hot Chip almost nonstop for the past 24 hours. Really helps me get into the Renaissance groove.
Here's a song I like:
Pay attention to the lyrics. They are hilar-ious.
Yesterday I drank 3 coffees and wrote 21 pages, today all I want to do is curl up foetus style and watch the English Patient.
Brett dropped out of school. I feel weird that he hasn't told me yet... found out from this smallish robin that flew by a while ago.

I kiss the wall of the shower and there lies an imprint of my of the tip of my nose and lips. I draw a quick face around it that resembles a piece of toast, and gigantic hair to add drama. True Story. It really is true Kenny G.

The one weekend that I was actually busy and I didn't get to see you. You You You. Do YOU like my lovely art? I made it for you in  celebration of this rap song totally dedicated Kenny g. It's hilarious, I've been fake dancing to it all day.
So how are things? How was your weekend? I completely died saturday night, and sunday and monday were just crazy. In theory I could have hung out with you post 7 on sunday, but I was too... something else/lack of words to even consider calling you up. I hope I didn't break your heart.
Recordings well went. I was grumpy saturday all day, but that's because I woke up at 6, and felt purposeless until after 8 when everyone else was waking up. Cd release party in december. I read half of that 130 year old book though. Trying to compare to to newer versions. I also successfully taught beer-o-mids to the band, and played it a couple times. I felt proud.

Here's the kenny g none stop music video

And to add a quiet note to the evening, heres another song that's just cute. The guys smile is inviting.

I Spit on Their Good Advice

things I didn't do this weekend:

finish (start) my research proposal, due tomorrow

spend time with Shark

win at rummy

exercise

restrain myself from eating Everything

eat stuffing

get the record player my dad's been offering us

Successfully convince the German girl sitting next to me at Thanksgiving dinner to try the banana torte.

make jokes that were funny

brush my hair

learn how to cite from a microform document (can anyone help me out with this?)

buy anything

recognize the Shania Twain song that erupted at the end of the table.



pre-recording

Man of the day.

Speaking of shots... there has been this joke going around for a week or so, about whats going to happen tonight. The band is having a pre-practice for the weekend ahead us (recording weekend 101) and then a party of sorts to kick off the night. The joke is doing shots to shots to shots: Play some shots on the marimba, drink a shot in between, while doing it all to that hilarious song.  I really don't know if it's going to happen, but it's been a constant laugh bringing it up.

Say, apparently everyone is bringing everyone to the party portion of the night. That being said, I say if your up to it, you should come. Smiths residents on dobler. I'll text you. But the offer stands here also. + I'm bringing peanut butter cookies.

when all else fails.

In case you haven't noticed, I have been trying to post a piece of art everyday. Sometimes the commentary is lacking, but hey!

 

Sabo and I were just joking about taking Thanksgiving shots this evening. 

Bought cereal and expensive designer ice cream on a whim. Broke ass poor.

I think I want to go to grad school in either Los Angeles or San Fransisco, which are both in the USA- great. Some older friends of mine were saying that they genuinely believed that there would be a revolution of the working class in the states, sometime soon. 

Today in class I learned about the Pere Peinard idea of revolution through insurrection- the idea that doing small "illegal" things to mess with the status quo is more effective than an outright coup. The illustration was of a strapping working man beating the shit out of some shorter, fat, well done up man with coins spilling out of his pockets. 

Is it really so bad if a desperately poor man robs a wealthy man in order to say, feed his children? Laura's answer is "Yes," because stealing is illegal and the law is the law. But what if the law is written by the wealthy man with the sole purpose of staying wealthy? (illustration of a working class man buttoning up his pants after having taken a dump on the so called "code of law")

I'm only posting here, because everyone else did.

I'm exploding from lady cramps right now. I'm contemplating taking a potential bath at some point during this over-cast day, but the thought about water waste, and the fact I had a shower last night is something weighing down on the action it self. Most probably I won't have a bath tonight, but tomorrow morning. Thanks guilt.

As a result, I've been trying to ignore the fact that the exploding pain is exploding and keep my mind busy. I've done some serious work , ranging from cutting wood and stacking and then creating a  fire pit down at the beach, and making it look pretty with some stacked driftwood to the side- maybe my stoner brother will have some use to it. I've done some paperwork for my mother-dearest so,and now I'm thinking about whether i should finish my math review booklet in the next couple days (why not?) and potentially getting the last couple letters and mail them all off while participating in a coffee date later this afternoon. I've also cleaned the rabbits cage. You know vinegar dissolves calcium residue? It's a fun fact, true, but I know it won't help with a bleeding finger, or fatigue.

In between everything, I'm been reading a cook book. Oh have I been reading. It's been my procrastination of the day. The book is called " cookbook of the seven seas" and it's basically a story of recipes to go along this couples adventures. The couple to the right is Peter and Dagmar Freuchen. Peter being this dannish explorer, exploring the northern, cold landscapes. During his lifetime he had three wives. First one being an inuit woman, she died, and his dannish church refused to burry her because of religious reasons, so he was forced to do so himself. Because of that relationship, he later became the grandfather of the first inuk in canada to be elected as MP.

 Second wife didn't work out, and then he married a fashion expert, Dagmar. Match made in heaven I guess. Point is, I just had to tell you guys about this man because I was impressed with him.  I like his stance and the way he lived his life. 

I want to make a big batch of these for you two. Semla Semla Semla! I'm pretty sure they would put a smile and a cure to fatigue. They are cardamon buns, insides dug out, and filled with a filling that consists of the old  bread crumbs, almond paste and more. They are then packed to the brim with whipped cream and covered in powdered sugar. I think in the land where they are from (denmark, sweden, germany and more...) that it's customary to eat it in a bowl of milk. Either way it looks delicious and I plan on making it super soon. Maybe even tomorrow. I'll tell ye how thee turns out.

Today

I'm with Spinach. It's going to be a late night.
Difficulty concentrating. Just learned some magical words for my research proposal: Herschel Island. That's were the stuff goes down.
Anyway. Mildly pissy today because I had a shitty sleep and got absolutely nothing done last night.
Experimental taste test led to the conclusion that that is indeed a plum tree outside my window.
Kat cut her thumb open with an exacto knife last night and had to go to the ER. Was nearly locked out the entire night as a result. Luckily flagged down the Volvo as it was pulling out.
I wish someone would put me in the closet and forget about it.

If I do not get ahold of some tweezers soon, I will have eyebrows resembling the top left photograph

My fingers will not turn out the words needed to complete this paper, I have been on the same paragraph for an hour. Maybe a quick, effortless blog post will be the ticket to overcoming this essay block.

Today I doodled my way through a History of Science lecture, and the desks were far too close. The rather tall, bulky guy next to me seemed to think it was fine to rest his lanky arms on my writing space, and sigh a lot and jiggle his feet up and down. I began drawing angry, frowning people underneath dark thunderclouds, but I don't think that he got the message.

Sarah, that is the bear sculpture that was at camp! Isn't it wonderful? There are also pictures of doorways to nowhere that she set up in the street, and a nest created out of old tires with a sign urging people to "Please Sit in the Artwork". I believe she studied in an art school in Paris.

Tonight will be a library night, I can feel it in the air. 

Conor Langton did this. I have a similar sweater.

Didn't Catch This Name

I think underground means either anonymous or non-capitalist. Either way brother, this is the thing.
Woke up to Owen Pallett piano emerging from the living room.

Currently reading about the most hilarious artist to paint Realism. We're talking Courbet, baby. We're talking painting for the sake of making fun of certain other styles of painting, as in the one below. Tell me its hideous and I will tell you that you're right.

sunday.

underground arts magazine (as way of classifying it) sounds stupid. + I say we have an advice column. we can spilt it up on who advises on which area of life. I think it could be great. We could draw cartoon versions of our "what if therapist self" would look like, and use that as an icon of the person replying to the specific piece. nice nice nice

today we had a show on the topic of feeding african children.  the show more or less went off without a flaw, and i got to wear this pretty blue skirt. It was also really funny because we were introducing ourselves at the end of the show, and after my name was being called, the weird dj played an audible, pre-recorded crowd clapping clip... to say the least, he gives me a weird smile and i just turn to natalie and smile. It was funny.

since then i've talked to cyrus, pranked katelynn, and ate a plateful of  roasted potatoes covered in hummus and honey mustard. it tastes better then the mental image.

I'm A Lie Detector

So full its uncomfortable.
Sorry for being rude last time. It was tired and indignant times.
I am currently pulling that stunt where I don't get anything done at all.

Guess what Chez! Kat comes up to me yesterday and starts talking about this brilliant idea she's had to start an "underground arts" magazine- you know the type. And I was exhausted or I would have been like : SC and I have been playing with a similar idea for like 3 years. I think she may be the key to kicking this thing off the ground. Brainstorming to follow.