because I don’t have time to go to the bathroom.

My life is consumed with being on campus.  Not always doing school work, but always being there.
I am spending the entire day in the studio tomorrow.  I really mean all day.
I had french fries from McDonalds.  They were delicious in a sinful way.
I’m addicted to the stupid “Paper Planes” song.  I’m horribly embarassed by this fact.
I want to wear sundresses now.
Spring break is only a few weeks away.
My car still has a huge dent in the door.

That is all.

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It was good while it lasted.

It was pretty great when I was writing every day religiously.  This past week sort of caught up with me, though, and I didn’t get a chance to get to this–nor did I really have much to say.  Hours working on prints, spent wasting away editing, and the six hours a week I’ve decided to spend dancing have finally taken their toll and most nights I find myself awake past one.  Needless to say, making a few quick comments takes the backseat to sleep.  

Last night I experienced one of the most uncomfortable events of my life.  I had an allergic reaction.  Not just some blotchy rash or something–oh no, it was me in hives for twelve hours, scratching my skin off at 4:30 in the morning, crying because I knew I had to be up to study for an exam (ah!) that I haven’t even begun to look at the material.  This is now mostly remedied, however, I still feel quite itchy and fear that the day will be miserable as I spend it figuring out how to look as though I’m not losing my mind while scratching every square inch of my body.

My family is coming into town this weekend which means two things:  I have to clean and I’m going to see my sister.  It’ll also include copious amounts of my stepfather complaning about things that don’t really matter and “you look thin” comments being made by my mom.  At least I’ll get to play with the cutest puppy in the entire world for a few hours too.

It sounds like the guys in the office below our apartment are playing old school Nintendo games.  Specifically LA Sports which had a pretty awesome surfing game that I couldn’t do.

So I don’t forget.

Here I stand, on January 25, and I am vowing to purchase the following items in a timely fashion.  These are things that I don’t need, but instead, have been waiting to get for quite some time.  I’ve been drooling over a new SLR Camera since I got back from India.  I’ve been pricing both Nikons and Canons, but at the moment, the Canon seems like the best option (price-wise, at least).  I’ve also been looking to switch to a Mac because my PC is a joke.  I can’t do what I need to, the body is falling apart, and I figure I can probably get a good deal on an older model Mac since new ones are coming out pretty much every other week it seems.  I’m also revisiting the idea of finally going for my third tattoo before I decide against it.  I know after my Louisiana service trip I’ll probably want one as well, but I’m kind of anxious to go.  I’ve been promising myself one for my birthday since the summertime, and with under a week to go, it’s looking as though I probably won’t make that self-imposed deadline.   

January is quickly coming to a close.  I’m looking forward to this spring so much and it’s really hard to contain my excitement.  I did, however, realize that a majority of my friends will be graduating this spring.  I’m a bit nervous to see how this pans out because I know from past experience that no matter how much you vow to stay in touch, it’s increasingly difficult when people are scattered around the country.  I’m hoping that this isn’t the case this time and that I really can stay close to the people I’ve met over the last three years here.  Soon enough though I too will be getting ready to make my exit and moving on to another city.  

For now, I’m going to gather some notes, make sure everything is in order for later, get some groceries (Jell-O, anyone?), plan a website, and FINALLY start dance for the semester.  This is where it starts to get a wee bit crazy.

My Life Pursuit.

When you grow up in a small town, you’re often encouraged to dream. As many people from my graduating class haven’t even left the zip code, I look at myself as a small success story. Either way, we were all required to write a short “life goal” list that was included with our pictures in the senior yearbook. For me, I listed a bunch of stuff that I had hoped to accomplish. On that list I mentioned visiting Germany, graduating with my Masters, and continuing my journey to feel infinite. I still haven’t made it to Germany (India instead), I’m nearly finished with my undergrad and I have every intention of going on for my MFA and the journey still continues. Over the last few days, I’ve really been thinking about what I truly want in this life after being recommended to look at my life, figure out how I want to continue, and shoot for it. So, in no particular order:

• solid foods: this is at the top because it’s short-term. I have been semi-restricted to liquids the last six days or so for some unknown reason. I do, however, enjoy being able to drink Icees and eat unlimited quantities of Jell-O without even feeling guilty.
• visit Germany: this stays. I still really really really really really want to go.
• be in love, get married, have kids, blah blah blah: I want the whole she-bang. While I’m in a relationship now, I know that I want to have my special day with pretty dress and flowers (which is, I’m pretty sure, the only real reason I want a wedding) and I want kids. Not one. At least two. With cool names and middle names that make other kids say “what were your parents’ thinking?”
• get into a school for my MFA: I really feel that despite a lackluster portfolio, if I’m given the chance to go somewhere for my MFA (Chicago? Baltimore? Rutgers?) I could really excel. I have the desire, I have the drive–most days–and I know that it’s what I want. I’d love to teach at some point but more than anything I’d love to have the opportunity to learn more than I already know.
• Tell every person I know exactly how I feel about them: This isn’t quite as much of a “thing I want to accomplish” as it’s me being honest with myself and the people that I love. I should get on this, pronto.
• Get over my fear of spending money: I have a phobia that prohibits me from buying anything I don’t actually need. While most people (men, moreless) look at this as a good thing, it’s a bit out of hand when I’m standing in line at Wawa and I walk back, put every item away, and walk out empty handed because in my head, I knew I wouldn’t die without that bag of trail mix.

So, that’s it. Now I’m off to chat up my vag and down the rest of my 16 ounce blue Icee. Nothing says adult like that.

S-L-O-W.

What do you do when there’s so much you want to do?  Okay, that sentence isn’t clear by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s how I feel right now.  The last few days I’ve turned into an application fiend, applying for tons of scholarships and numerous internships for the summer and fall.  If I have to look at my resume another second longer, my head might explode.  But I’ve realized there are TONS of things I’d love to do.  What,  you might ask?  Intern on the View, work with a filmmaker in the city, work at NPR for a semester, do the Disney program (okay, this one sort of blows a little bit, but hey, I’ve always wanted to try it out!)  I think I can blame all of this on a slow end of the week at work.  Without a mound of stuff on the desk to get through, I’ve had time to peruse the internet for all sorts of things.  Mostly things that don’t pertain to admissions.   And Facebook.  LOTS of Facebook. 

Spring semester begins in 2 days.  I’m actually excited, with the exception of Science and Civ II.  Otherwise, it should be a pretty enjoyable semester with creativity bursting at the seams.  Just remind me in eight weeks that I was actually excited about the work.

Off to go file, then guide people.  Home in three hours!

For real?

I work in a college admissions office.  Typically, the days aren’t very eventful; once in awhile something really interesting will happen, or I’ll come across a funny student essay, or one of the counselors will give me some mudane project that makes the day drag on.  And on.  But that’s not really the point.  Most of these counselors (3 out of the 4 on my side of the office) are fresh out of college.  Two are actually alum.  Today, one of them started talking about loan repayment.  I nearly dropped out of my seat.  Out of her paycheck, between $700 and $800 goes directly to her Staffords.  Scary? Just a bit, especially when you’re only making about $800 a month.  Okay, now I know I’m going to school full-time so I really shouldn’t be shocked at the amount of money–I’ll be working a full-time job (hopefully) after graduation, making paying the bills and actually surviving seem a bit more feasible.  The problem lies in the idea itself:  do I really feel that my education is worth the money?  Often, I say no.  I feel as though I could be taught these things anywhere, if I simply picked up a book.  Sure, the experience and interaction is great, but really, $40,000+ a year for college?  I oftentimes don’t understand it.  I feel as though I’ve been placed into such debt that it will be impossible to come back to the surface before my children are having children of their own.  Maybe it’s just me, but its tough to rationalize it.

Other things that are too expensive:

• underwear:  come on, if I’m supposed to be wearing it every day, making it upwards of $5 kind of seems ridiculous.  I could have three coffees instead of one pair of underwear–guess where my pick would be most days.
• cereal:  almost $4?  is there gold in that cardboard box?
• laptop computers:  okay, these are actually pretty important, advanced little machines.  $2300 for a MacBook Pro?  That I need for what I want to do when I graduate?  Where is that supposed to come from?
• turnpike tolls:  enough said.  What’s up with paying for shitty roads that usually are backed up because of work zones that are full of people staring at a hole in the cement?

What do you think isn’t worth the price you pay for it?

I never said I’d remember…

…if you read back to the first post, I think I recall stating how I’m terrible at keeping a blog, how journals never worked for me, and how after awhile, the appeal wears off and I realize that I’d rather spend the half hour that I use to blog hitting the snooze button instead.  Don’t get me wrong, I love to write and blogging is fun (when you look at those stats pages it’s quite exciting–even if it’s just the same person visiting twice in a day).  So here I am, “working” (I use quotations because I’m essentially getting paid to watch an empty room) and I feel as though the best way to kill time between knitting and doing program layout is to blog.  About how I forget to blog.  

I finally finished my “To do + finals” list today as of 9:26am.  I am now officially a senior despite having three semesters left at the college, but I’m looking forward to the absence of gen eds (minus one more terrible lab science) and the influx of art classes.  I jumped half a grade (B- to a B+) with my art classes this semester, so in the words of someone else, it was “a step in the right direction”.  I’m hoping to find more luck in other places (printmaking, anyone?) so we’ll see how that goes in the spring.

So with the new year a few short weeks away, I’ve been trying to figure out a short list of things I want to work on.  Not really resolutions, but more a to-do list for the next six months.  Something a bit more ambitious than doing the dishes but slightly below saving the universe.  In no particular order, my to-do list for January-June 2009:

> get more ambitious with my work:  It’s not that I’m slacking, but I often feel like I “play it safe” when it comes to academics.  I don’t take the easy road, but I rarely challenge ideas or think too far out of the box when it comes to my artwork.  I’ve been told I have great ideas for what I’m creating, but I just need to take the steps to put them into practice and make them realizations.

>keep on top of stuff:  I never was forgetful.  Sometimes I feel as though I’ve aged sixty-five years because of my tendency to walk into the kitchen with a hair brush and not remember what I was doing or what in God’s name I carried something across the house for.   I’ve pulled too many all-nighters, watched too many projects get thrown together in a hurry because I simply forgot.  Not that I did something else, but that I didn’t notice the scribble in my planner or I washed my hand that had the reminder scrawled across it.  I just have to get on top, stay organized, and somehow work on my memory skills.

>nag less, love more:  I wouldn’t call myself a bad friend or lover, but I feel that after living with someone or knowing them for who knows how long, we tend to get nit-picky.  I need to back up, remember why in fact I love these people, and do just that.  Who cares if they leave the toilet seat up or forget to make the bed?  Why should I mind if they don’t always have the time for me that I wish they did?  I just need to love what is available and enjoy what’s here now.

>stop worrying so much:  Getting worked up over small stuff only irritates ulcers.  It doesn’t stop the C- from coming back on my Science exam or fix the thing that I forgot to do.  I need to just “roll with the punches” over things that I don’t have much control over.

>lose ten pounds learn to love who and what I am:  I have to just do that.

So I have six months to try, another part of my country to see, a visit to Central America, and lots and lots of people to meet.

Can’t wait.

Don’t Read this.

I don’t yield 50+ results when you search me on Google.  I don’t improve my campus, I don’t create new groups or receive scholarships for anything outstanding.  I’m not brilliantly unique or remarkably strong.  I cry, I bruise easily, and I still sleep with a security blanket.  I’m asthmatic, I drive a station wagon, and I don’t quite stand five feet tall.

I honestly can’t fool myself; this body, this person that is mine?  Yeah, still not completely settled in.

I hear it day in and day out:  you’re smart, you’re caring, you’re creative.  I hope these things aren’t just being said to keep me sane, but that they are the truth.  I get so down on myself when I realize that others around me are doing so much more.  I feel that I too should be succeeding, not just merely scraping by.  Then I realize that I’m happy (my version of happy, at least) with my pajama-filled nights and movie marathons with a certain someone who lives with me (and loves me).  It makes me feel accomplished in a way that a certificate never could, but still, I feel like I need to make everyone more proud of the person I should be.

Why in God’s name do I let myself do this?

where do I belong?

This is getting overwhelmingly complicated to keep up with.  It’s not that I don’t have stuff to say (alright, sometimes I don’t) but it’s that I can’t remember.  And I don’t have time.  I don’t even have time to eat most days.  But when I finally do get around to doing stuff, I realize that I neglect things that shouldn’t be put off. 

Like schoolwork, for example.

Right now, I belong in the photo lab with my class, working on prints that are due Monday.  4 prints.  Where are the negatives that I’m going to enlarge, you might ask?  Still in the camera, still half unexposed, still waiting for me to do something with them.  And I just can’t find it in me.  Every time I think I have something good–something “on the edge”, as my professor has asked me to be–I can’t photograph it.  Either it’s too far away, or the person doesn’t consent, or it’s not adaquate lighting.  I feel like if I could just release my thoughts onto the photo paper I’d always come out on top, but sadly, that’s not how it works.

So I’m home instead.  I’m sitting on the sofa, tapping at the keyboard, waiting for a phone call and afternoon Barnes and Nobel run (so I can finally get a new planner.. who knew that I’d need a 2009 planner two months before January even hit?).  I’m leaving dishes piling up, forgetting laundry in the dryer, not cleaning the bathroom, letting the bed go unmade–essentially for nothing.  I have nothing to show for my genuine lack of interest in most things these days, except for mediocre grades and a portfolio that needs some serious revising.

I just can’t wait for December 15 so this is all over.

I think the kids say “wtf?” these days.

It’s been longer–much longer–than I would have liked it to be.  I’d credit that to the immense amount of schoolwork that’s been assigned (and forgotten) about over the last few weeks.  Somewhere between getting my life back on track and staying on top of my apartment, I’ve just seemed to forget about this.  With this tiny gap over the next few days, I hope to really catch up and get back into writing… something that has just been neglected in the whirlwind that has swept me up.

The good news is that things really are back on track; the tragedies of two weeks ago  have found solutions, (most) of the friend problems are mediated, and despite being behind in two classes, I’ve realized that I’m not that far off track.  Something about tiny successes that really make you feel as though you haven’t fucked up that much and that there’s time to finish everything else up.

In the past few days I’ve found myself really contemplating this college thing.  While I’m within three–or even two–semesters of graduation, the lines between learning and application have finally begun to blur.  With the exception of Science and Civ, most of my learning is done through application; projects being completed, filming, processing and enlarging–I’m no longer a sponge in a seat.  The defintions between student and professor have also finally meshed the way I’d like to see them.  I’m learning to really come into my own creatively and I’ve found that projects are much easier to complete… and defend.  I’ve found myself becoming much more confident in my presentation and my thoughts as an answer to a prompt; I don’t always second guess like I once did.  I am thrilled with how things have been going with school lately… it’s a great feeling.

But despite the success and happiness I find between 9 and 4, there’s other things that I still just don’t get.  The idea of finding purpose–or giving my life purpose–still sometimes escapes me.  I feel as though I’m going through the motions and just completing menial tasks; that the things I’m doing are not shaping any amount of meaning and that despite the time taken, it will eventually be forgotten anyway.  It’s rather pesimestic to be thinking this way, but in the same breath, I find it hard not to.  I look to invest time in people, in processes, only to realize that those people forget, those projects fall apart.  Sure, I have a handful of truly great things and great people, but it’s those few that can really put a damper on the bright eyed view that I attempt to hold on to.

And then I think of the lady at CVS who gave me the coupon.  Or the woman who walks the dog on my street and lets me play with him when I walk by.  Or the child at the grocery store who smiles incessantly when I smile back.  Or the professor who really seems to care about me beyond a name in a grade book.  Or the boyfriend who wakes up with me in the middle of the night because I have a question that just has to be answered.  Or the mother who always picks up the telephone, even if it’s a bad time.

And it really doesn’t seem all that bad anymore.