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Free Time

Today I had about 20 minutes where I didn't have to do anything. After a long day of practically non-stop academic reasoning the last thing I needed was free time--free time that would require me to reason even more for something to fill those moments with. I decided not to fret about what assignments I could work on. Instead, I found an empty corner of couches, pulled up foot rest and turned on the light screen of my laptop. I wanted to find pictures that could illustrate what my mind was feeling like right then because I was having a hard time describing it. Nothing could get close to what I thought it looked or felt like. I shifted my focus and decided to look for pictures of what I wanted my mind to feel like. Then I found this, and I stared at it for the remaining 13 minutes until my next class.

The picture is by Spencer Finch. And still, right now, it makes me happy to picture my mind as if it were a cloud of clustered balloons: buoyant and breezy.

In This Corner...

To learn more about this picture (courtesy of the New York Times), read this. A while ago, this made my day. I thought I would share it. I promise this blog will get more artistic soon.

Frida

Thanks to some good friends, I now have another great idea for a Halloween costume:

Yeah, it's Frida Kahlo. It's easy, all I'll need to do is pull my hair up, wrap some vines in it, and glue a fake mustache onto my forehead. I'll need a lot of red lipstick too. Come to think of it, a monkey would be good to have as well. I think it would really "complete," the look. I'll talk to Phillip about it.

Roy? Frida? Suggestions would be helpful.

Halloween Dream

Thinking of this year’s Halloween day makes me really energized and anxious. My friends are big Halloween enthusiasts. Not only do my friends have the finest and most extreme costumes, they also host the finest and most extreme parties.

My Halloween schedule follows a strict yearly tradition. Every year I can expect warm chili and candy with Tanya for Halloween dinner. There’s always lots of picture taking on the Vistaunet porch (to make sure every costume is well documented). After that we all proceed to a wild dance party with good friends. I can't wait.

This brings me to this next topic: my costume. I don't like the idea of dressing up in some broad, everyone-can-be-this-and-it-has-no-personal-touch-whatsoever, costume. Costumes need to fit your look, hair, size, face, and personality. I will admit, I am guilty of the last-minute witch. But this year, I've got it down. I've been thinking long and hard. I've taken my characteristics into consideration. I'm small, brown, I have dark hair, brown eyes, and I'm a little mysterious.

The result is...

Roy.

From Charlie and the Chocolate Factory .

To make matters perfect, Phillip is going to be This:

I'm glad he agreed to it--the only other option was The Wonder Twins

My Room Also Tells Me Things

I like to think that the objects in my room have deeper implications. For example: people don't just see that you have a collection of bouncy balls in the corner. They judge you. Here are a few things in my room that say a little more about me.

The first thing that visitors pass by in my room is a 24" x 19" guerilla art piece that I found on 9th East. It hangs proudly on my wall. It's an acrylic painting of a woman's face that is flat with dark lines around the edges her face and hair. The words "Dogs Suck" and "design" flank her nose. I like to think that this work is a combination of a sloppy Lichtenstein with a little stylistic hint of the early fauves. This object tells me that I can find beauty in uncommon things and that I like eccentricity. It could also mean that I have really bad taste. Whatever.

My desk is built into this nice little dished out space in my wall. My favorite things on my desk right now are my 10% off coupon anything at the GAP, an art book that is an observational study of wiener dogs sleeping (by David Hockney), and my computer that looks like this:

The GAP card tells me that I'm thrifty. The dog book shows that I have a tender heart. I think that the color green on my computer shows that I am compassionate and that I have lots of energy. It's kind of a sexy color, huh?

Next, there is a white baker's rack that I turned into a makeshift bookshelf. My shelf consists of authors like: Nick Hornby, Daniel Gilbert, Barry Schwartz, Jack Kerouac , Betty Smith, Mary Shelly, Pablo Neruda, Chaim Potok, Orson Scott Card, George Orwell, Walter Scott, Joseph Heller, Douglas Adams, J.K. Rowling, Charlotte Bronte and Chuck Palahniuk. I have this thing with owning books. Checking them out from the library just doesn't work because at some point I have to give them back. This bookshelf tells me that I am a person who believes in raising literary capital.

About 2 feet away from the shelf sits my dresser that I MADE. It's tall with four large drawers and two small drawers for miniature things—like socks. On top of it sits my Aveeno Stress Relief Moisturizing Lotion (with lavender, chamomile and ylang-ylang). This is aptly placed next to my rather brawny 2008 GMAT prep book. These things tell me that I am busy and cranky.

Lastly, there is a 'Zoom Groom' which is my cat's blue rubbery brush thing. I have never even picked it up. You see, my room used to belong to my brother until just recently. My cat and my brother have an eternal adoration for each other and now that my brother is gone my cat has no reason to be this room at all. As a result, he never gets groomed. I'm not a huge fan of cats. I do make an exception, though, when occasionally I find him dreaming peacefully with his tongue out.

A reminder of my tender heart.

And yes, I do have a collection of bouncy balls.

The Internet Tells Me Things

I recently updated to a fancy-pants Gmail account. My hotmail account that I had created in middle school—that is creatively a parody combining my nick name and the Nike slogan—just didn't give me that same feeling of exhilaration once I had to use it to email professors, not to mention anybody over the age of 14.

I haven't had the heart to get rid of it just yet. It comes in handy for various things here and there, but I recently noticed and felt like somebody was trying to tell me something more regarding this issue. You see, every once in I while I get emails that promote Viagra. Obviously this is not a market I have any interest in so I figured these emails must have a multi-layered meaning. I think I have finally figured out what these viagra hawkers are getting at: your email address is old, and that's why we think you're old and possibly interested in these products...Oh! And you must be poor, because this stuff is only $1.

Like any email address parent, hearing that your first and faithful email account just won’t cut it anymore is upsetting. Not to worry, I have contacted the proper authorities.

However, like many things in my life, I only wish I could have heard about this--a thing in my life that was embarrassing that I should have changed sooner--from one of my friends instead of the internet.

Harry and Me, We Go Way Back

I decided to get over my lasting dispute (1998 -2008) against trendy things and produce a healthy interest in the Harry Potter series. Yes, yes, I know you're asking yourself, but what weighty contemplation made you change the concentrated frame of mind? Let me tell you: nothing. I just decided to read them one day.

Anyway, that one day is now a few days ago and now (today) I am a little more than halfway through the third book. I made a poor decision last night and let Harry Potter get to me. I spent my first few critical sleeping hours wide-eyed next to my lamp, reading. Mistake. Not only did I wake up tired from the lack of sleep, but I also had the most terrible dreams about dementors! Yeah, I said dementors. But I feel like I handled the nightmare pretty well. I just sat there and watched the thing mosey around my new room. I didn't move a muscle so it never noticed me or my delicious soul.

That wasn't the first time I stayed cool during nightmare. Once, I had this dream where a ghost was standing at the foot of my bed in the middle of the night. Some voice told me that the ghost's name was Minerva, and that Minerva wanted to talk to me. Although I was VERY frightened, I raised my eyebrow to indicate that I was not happy being woken up in the middle of the night and casually said to the ghost, "You know…not today." Then the ghost was gone.

My finest hour.

When I woke up, I actually felt kind of foolish. What if it was the ghost of Minerva Tiechert!? The artist!? I would never think of saying no to her!

I’ll never know.

I Should Be Allowed to Blog

I have a love/hate relationship with blogs. Although, I shouldn't act so surprised. The majority of my friends in high school had blogs. People that I admire and respect also have blogs. I guess I am just afraid of the "typical" blog. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Blogs that have pages full never-ending wedding pictures, blogs that practically used as everyday journals, and let's face it, blogs that are boring. But don't worry, this is not one of those blogs.

I also feel uneasy about that word, blog.

Anyway, as a new member of the blogging world I solemnly swear to:

1. Be Charming
2. Not use too many exclamation points
3. Post recipes of Bolivian food once in a while
4. Be humble
5. Keep a general log about my latest artistic endeavors
6. Do whatever it takes to make this a non-typical blog