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Pattern Recognition

The [mis]adventures of a post-modern gypsy...

Manic Monday?
I woke up for class today with an unshakable feeling foreboding. Yesterday? This was the Golden Hour (which is the opposite of the Violet Hour); today? Stormy, sepia, and everything felt wrong from the moment I woke up and my foot hit the floor. (Normally I adore this kind of waking up to a surrealist interpretation of reality... today it feels wrong.)

To the point that I went straight back to bed.

Hopefully this feeling dissipates as the day wears on; I really can't miss my Design class this afternoon. I also have plans to meet my friend Eliot for a drink later on, as he's in town for a bit.

I had at least several dozen bulletpoint ideas for a blog post about this past weekend (namely the late Saturday/early to mid Sunday portion of it), but I think I might rather smirk secretly to myself, for now.

At least they lyrics running through my head are switching back and forth between "Manic Monday" and "Getting to Know You". Not the worst combination ever.

I think I'm going to make a cup of Earl Grey (all out of Darjeeling, sadly) and watch Atonement.

The carousel plays the same ol' tune.
I'm starting to lose track of days again and for once it's not due to Monsieur Alcohol.

I've spent the past week? Two weeks? Something like that, catching up with school projects. Two art classes and one math; it's a LOT of work. On top of all that, my loan is on hold for 30 days as I'm a "new student". Thanks Sallie Mae. Rent was due yesterday.

The worst part isn't the workload, which I can manage. I'm extremely determined when I choose to be. I've been having migraines at an alarming rate. I generally get a few a year; maybe one every couple months. I've had 3 in the past two weeks. Stress, ain't is beautiful? :\ Even so, I've made enough progress with my back assignments to earn the respect of my professors. ^_^*

In a related note, I now have a second Flickr account solely for the purpose of tracking my art project progress. Or for anyone who is curious as to how I spend all the time I'm taking away from das internets. Check it out here & feel free to add me as a contact!

It will be at least another week until I have any free time to speak of, so if I haven't responded to messages, emails, phone calls, texts, etc. please be patient!

Back to the drawing table.... literally! (haha, aren't I witty?)

Yes, I only inked 36. Numbers 37 thru 46... TOUGH LUCK, SUCKERS. (Yeah, that means you, Banshee Sharon Stone, aka #43.)

BEHOLD!!Collapse )

Ugh... and with that, I'm going to fall into a coma for a few hours then wake up and draw 25 interpretations of CORN.

No, I am not kidding.


Guess what I've been doing all evening?
Drawing 36 faces for my Rapid Viz class. Although apparently I can't count.. because I did 46. Oops. -_-'

I numbered them, so if you want to guess who they are this could get pretty entertaining. Some are random, but many are from old photograph books from WWII and of old Hollywood (and some newer Hollywood folks, as well) stars. A few historical personas make appearances as well.

Are you sure you want to see this?Collapse )
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Late Suppers of Ill Repute and How Fortuna Smiled (and Wasn't Missing Any Teeth, Either).
I should probably not decide to conjure up a late night meal after running the dishwasher.

Because I did not plan even 15 minutes ahead, I buttered my toast with an oyster knife and am enjoying my spicy roasted butternut & corn soup out of a Tupperware bowl using a large serving spoon.

The soup is good, but it seems like it's missing something. Maybe cumin. I've been rather obsessed with cumin lately and have been throwing it into everything. It's a wonder that it hasn't made it into one of my bubble bath sessions. (Although, that gives me an idea....)

Today I had $1800-1900 of debt forgiven. Basically, the entire cumulative sum that my mother fronted me to go back to school (a few hundred dollars worth of books) and for obtaining my apt. (first month's rent + security deposit). I was to pay her back, no problem, with my loan stipend. However, it's been declared that the money was a gift for me to actually make something of myself and my life (aside from making it a farce, which has been my M.O. for years), instead of frittering away my talents, skills, abilities, brilliance, intelligence, etc. (I'm not vain or arrogant, whatever would give that impression? LOL)

Frittering has become my favourite word, lately. Also, fritter or fritters, particularly corn fritters, as I've been craving them all week (no thanks to Jonathan and watching the Charleston episode of No Reservations). I probably won't be cooking a whole lot over the next several days of catching up on homework; but perhaps Sunday.... fried fish, jambalaya, collard greens, corn fritters.... YUM. I can taste the sweet tea already!

The party's over? Wait, what party?
I think I may have to alter part of my occupational listing to reflect "retired partygirl" instead of "semi-retired partygirl". Fucking hell.

Over the past year I've cut back drastically on my drinking (with the exception of a couple horrid months after an unpleasant breakup) to the point that I apparently cannot handle my booze. Which begs the question, could I ever? (Or can most people who think they can? After all, we're talking about the opinions of people who are drunk, lol.)

Most of my activities, school and design work/research, handicapping horse races, etc. do not involve drinking. In fact, I prohibit myself from drinking until after projects are done and my DRF is marked up. I refuse to allow a tasty cocktail to inspire mistakes or dampen my ambitions. Even when I do drink, it's typically a glass of wine or whiskey once everything is done and then it's off too bed. I've spent enough years frittering away my talent and abilities, failure or mediocrity aren't acceptable options.

That being said, I got extremely trashed (much quicker than I expected) on Friday night and was fortunate enough to have a chivalrous gent come to my rescue (which I deeply appreciate). I remember very little of the entire night, which is not only embarrassing but really quite infuriating. I take responsibility for anything I said or did, regardless, but the worst part is not remembering time spent with someone whose company I really do enjoy.

...and don't think I've completely gone off the deep end (not that I'd ever do that, right? haha..), I'm not completely forsaking the sauce. I'm just putting it back in it's place, which is a sidenote and not a priority or necessity.

P.S. I have to wake up in 6 hours and I'm not remotely tired. Stupid afternoon naps full of carousel dinner parties and gentlemen dressed like Cary Grant!!

Refreshed, revitalized, and rejuventated.
Those are the 3 Rs, right?

Today is shaping up marvelously. I had quite possibly the most euphoric yogurt imaginable for breakfast. Rachel's Wickedly Delicious Vitality pomegranate acai yogurt. The anticipation that I feel towards the Calm plum lavender honey yogurt in the fridge is almost unbearable! (Oooh-- and I just read that they have a pink grapefruit-lychee!!! I'll have to find someplace that has that.. I don't recall seeing that one at the store.)

Tonight I was planning on hitting DWD (Dark Wave Disco, @ Sonotheque), but I think I will opt for a free concert of George Gershwin's music down at the Pritzker Pavilion in Millennium Park.

Tomorrow is Nazareth's art show and I'll finally get to meet Robin! Afterwards we've got a cocktail reception @ The Spot and in the wee hours I have plans for the most profitable blanket heist in history. ^_^*

Fuck Sugarplums.
My dreams of origami pineapples will now be replaced with visions of hobo Nick Nolte drinking MY La Fin Du Monde.

THANX canface. I OWE YA ONE!! (....just you wait.)

My Prozac is a Superiority Complex... and it works!
I feel much better now.



Self Imposed Cheering Up Project
I'm DLing the movie Seabiscuit in a valiant attempt to raise my spirits, on account of having no spirits to do the job for me.

A nice, horsey movie is just the ticket, right?

Then again, Tobey Maguire is in it and that may just make me want to punch something instead.

(Hey-- that last sentence DID cheer me up. We're making progress!)