The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Yes, it's true! written @ 3:04 PM on January 16, 2005 Ten out of ten college students agree: it was one hell of a first week. My classes are so wretchedly boring it's painful to even write about them. In my Introduction to Computer Graphic Design class, for instance, I have endured two lectures this week on "what's the difference between a tower and a monitor?" and "how many bytes are in a kilobyte?" and "what is the function of the paintbrush tool in Photoshop?" I tell ya, I was banging my head against the back wall and making detailed schedules and to-do lists all through class. I have all psychology, English literature, and criminal justice majors in my Shakespeare class, and believe me when I say there is no surer way to kill the magic of Shakespeare's As You Like It than to analyze it until the cows come home. In my art history class this semester, we're covering Neoclassicism through modern art, but my professor-- the same one who subtly accused me of cheating on his essay exams because he didn't think anyone in his class had an ounce of intellect two semesters ago-- is going all the way back to the Baroque. I think I'm going to make a shirt that says, "If it ain't Baroque, don't fix it" and then wear it to class whilst glaring at him, what do you think? In my stage appearance class, I had to drop $58 on a stage make-up kit. How this kit is going to aid me as a set designer, I have no idea. Any takers? Finally, in my History of Graphic Design class-- taught by the same prof who insists we know how many megabytes are in a terabyte and the significance of a USB port-- we've covered the entire history of the alphabet. The alphabet! You guys, I am so bored! My only relief thus far has been my work in the scene shop building sets and painting props for Bat Boy. And this week I have a production meeting for the next show I'm designing the sets for; the play is about the Holocaust. Jeez. Between the Vietnam War, the Holocaust, and abortion, I've noticed that I tend to land the heavy-handed shows. But that's better than designing for cheesy musicals about dancing and singing nuns, eh? In the meantime, I've accomplished 11 sunset landscape paintings, and I'm going to be completing at least five more this weekend. The Honors department has given $200 to help fund my sunset project; that's not a lot for the nature of my project, but every little bit helps. Two hundred dollars is going to get me paint. A lot of paint. The theatre department is sponsoring a fundraiser for the tsunami victims in two weeks, and yours truly is designing the poster and the program! Yay for art! I went down to the park this afternoon-- freezing and snowing all the while-- to take pictures of flood waters for the poster, and I ended up getting soaked and frozen to the bone as I waded through the icy creek beds trying to get the right angle of the rushing waters. After I took enough pictures to do the poster design, I went to Kohls to pick up a new pair of jeans (store credit I had left over from Christmas). Wasn't I a sight walking through the store! My pants were soaked up to my knees, I was freezing, my face was numb, and I tracked snow and a small biblical flood into the store behind me. You could trace my path through the juniors section, into the dressing room, and down along the cash register, which got worse as the snow melted off my legs. Yes, indeed, the people saw the Abominable Snowman today, only to realize that it was a woman. *** My mother seems to be dating someone from her divorced and separated church group, although she won't word it as "dating" or "going out" with someone. She says "going to meet," but we all know what that really means. His name is Paul. He is a doctor. He is the biggest adult nerd I have seen since my freshman year of college, and when we went to go see Meet the Fockers, he kept leaning over the seats and whispering, "Cover your ears/eyes!" during a dirty joke number. I tease my mom with, "Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Simon, Peter, and who?" He's a harmless fish, an ordinary "nice guy," but I do not approve of her choice. While she may be ready to move on from the divorce, I am still hurrying to catch up with her, and the whole "my mom is dating someone" thing is really surreal. My dad, meanwhile, is neighbors with our county prosecutor. Twice in the past six months, my dad has been called in to do jury duty (once grand jury duty), and each time he's hassled the county prosecutor to get him out of jury duty. Each time the prosecutor has trilled, "It's your civic obligation! It's your duty as an American!" I said to my dad, "You should have told him screw that, it's your American civic duty to refuse." So one night my dad found the county prosecutor drunk off his ass outside his apartment (God, how I love America), moaning how his girlfriend had dumped him and he had vomited on his kitchen floor. Come to think of it, I probably shouldn't be writing about this on my public diary, but, awe what the hell, free speech, right? Dad, being a good drinking buddy, coached him through his tough time, all the while keeping his fingers crossed behind his back: he seems to think he has good leverage for getting out of jury duty next time. *** Oh yeah, one last thing: GO STEELERS!!
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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