Wednesday, December 30, 2009

However.. Steering away from the negative.. here are some fun things (time-wasters) to read or watch that actually require brain cells to look at! (actually, not really. But I find then interesting and/or funny.)

Sarah Haskins in Target Women (best videoblog possibly ever)
Can't ever resist Oddee. So... many... lists... it's kind of like cracked.com - also very addictive
The fashion police. Because it's me. Shush.
Momversation - I think this is fascinating. Because I'm weird.
ALSO: caitlin showed me this HILARIOUS video. sooo gooodd hhahaha

I haven't written on this thing for a while.
Let's get this straight. Baltimore and I are in a rather rocky relationship. But California and I are also in a little bit of a rocky situation too.
I love California. I love being in California. I love looking and driving in California and seeing the mountains, and the palm trees and the beaches. Too bad the only person I really want to see is all the way on the other side of the country (what feels like the whole planet).
Woe is me.

TOO much lol?

I was lounging around in my room earlier this afternoon, and a question popped into my head: How many lolblogs do you think there are on the internet (interwebz, intertubez)? I decided I would try to find all the lol-type blogs on the interwebz.
Well, after researching a little, I have lost quite a few braincells and found a mind-boggling amount of lols, lolz, lulz, lals, and lawls. Dere iz soooo much stufz on da intewebzz its awesum!!!! I cud just sit heere all dai!!! and git marbidly obeese!!!! but at leest de katz, goggies, hawses, carz, celebriteez, politikz, kakez, tatooz, googlez, GRAPHZ,SIGNZ,BABIEZ,FOODZ,ANIMALZ,COMIX,WEDDINGZ, r funni!!!!!! U mite sai Hee-laryus!!!

Without further ado:
loldogs, too
lolcelebrities? roflrazzi (barf)
lol.. ..uh... political news? and an impostor (loliticz? really?)
lol famous art (i know)

and then this spawned the zillions and squillions of "doesn't-say-lol-but-lol-is-implied" (and usually sans-obnoxious misspelled words in Impact) websites. Usually has something to do with "fail" or "win" or "epic fail" or "epic win" or "super epic fail win" or "for the win" "fin eail win fail super epic win epic fail win" or "AAAAGGGHHHH" (or maybe that's just me)
for instance:
the ever-present failblog
Fark (weird and quotable news?) or Probably Bad News
There, I fixed it (epic kludges)
Cake wrecks (terrible cakes)
God hates protesters (one of my personal favorites)
regretsy (definitely one of my favorites)
pwned on camera (still kind of a mystery to as what this is really about.. hawtness?)
Emails from crazy people (ok.. I love this one, I admit it)
not as described (lol ads apparently)
of course, the epic win
Graph jam - although those are actually pretty funny.
poorly dressed (photos of ugly people and ugly clothes.... wow, that's original.)
Engrish funny (as if there isn't already an engrish.com...?)
Wedinator ("funny" weddings)
Comixed ("funny" comics from popular photos)
Can't forget... My first fail for baby exploitation at it's finest
Acting like animals (animals..... acting like animals.)
Babysaur (still don't really know what this thing's about.. didn't care enough to read it)
Daily Squee (Allison's #1 fave website of course other than cuteoverload.com )
Epicute.. the cute food blog. I am pretty sure there is a cute "everything" by now.
Totally looks like - funny look-alikes
Nostalgia - also known as "once upon a win" -sob- goodbye childhood...
Om Nom Nom Nom ....dotcom
Awkward Family Photos.... how could I forget this one!
aaand... Sketchy Santas!


I think if i ever heard anyone actually say the word "squee" I might implode.


And then...... can't forget the ones where you can read little minutiae about people's lives!!!!!!!!
lmylife (try and guess what that one is)
My life is so many things.......
it made my day (little moments of win - ugh-)

and of course....

the most terrifying of them all......



and then I went Hughhhh! Arrghhhh! BlrarhaghhhHHhhHblubglubkjadfh

and then I drowned in blogs and had to stop cause I started feeling a little nauseous. I also started feeling like this guy:

ick. I also came upon this site of terrifying internet memes (mostly from 4chan, of course, that SUPER EVIL internet hate machine full of super-hackers on steroids.)

However, if you clicked on all those blogs, I feel sorry for you - I mean - cough - good going. And if you're seduced by all the lulz, there's always the lolMart. The list is to be continued when I recover from my lolventures.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Today in Homosexuality and Civilization we learned that in England, you could get sentenced to life in jail for sodomy until 1965. And in America, there were still sodomy laws and people getting arrested for sodomy until 2003. They didn't get rid of them until two-thousand-and-three. That greatly disturbs me. Really greatly.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Some things from around the interwebs....

America's 25 Douchiest Colleges.


Liz just reawakened my hatred for Linkin Park.

and... this is HILARIOUS!!!! "literal version" of possibly the cheesiest music video ever made.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

I had another vivid dream last night. I dreamt I had another baby. It came as a semi-surprise to me because I had sort of forgotten that I was pregnant because I barely showed or had any symptoms or anything. In my dream I was seeing some guy, but I was desperately not over Elle. So I had the baby - someone (I think it was my mother) laid on top of me to help push it out. It didn't hurt, but I could feel it coming out of there, and I was physically pushing really hard. Then someone cut the umbilical cord with a pair of scissors but it was connected to my bellybutton as well as the baby's so it just laid there on my stomach (TMI, I know.)
well, I guess my boyfriend forgot that was going to happen, or I forgot to tell him, but I was pretty sure I remembered to tell him. But I staggered to the doorway with my newborn baby in my hands, and he looked up, a look of shock and disgust and betrayal on his face. I was standing there in the doorway desperately sobbing, and he grabbed some of his things and left and wouldn't talk to me. I was freaking out and sobbing and wondering what I was going to do with this baby because I couldn't keep it because I was too young and part of me wanted to keep it but most of me wanted to give it away. Someone took me to the adoption agency room but I hesitated, couldn't do it outright, had to think it out in my head some more.
So I went to go find Elle. She was in her room, and I was so happy and relieved to see her, and she helped me with the baby situation. She was talking to her residents, and when I came in holding a baby her eyes got all wide and she politely excused herself and told her residents to leave. I can't remember exactly what happened. But we were back together and that was the happiest I was in the entire dream.

It was really sad. Most of the dream consisted of me crying. Really hard, saying I am too young to take care of a baby. I woke up and was still residual sad.

Monday, October 19, 2009

also: nothing makes me more angry than uneducated arguments. People who are angry and arguing just to be arguing. Or people who are so blindsided by one argument that they won't listen to the other side. There's always more than one side to something. Idealists. pure politics or ideals without being realistic or rational. like anarchists. people who are into something because it is convenient for them. Identity tourists.

honk hooooonkkkkkkkkk

I find it so interesting that we have these triggers that fill us with completely unreasonable incandescent rage. Did something happen when we were children to make us feel this way, or is it part of our personality, who knows.

Mine is when people honk their horns in their cars. Now, I'm a pretty non-confrontational person when something is annoying me. But, the other day, right outside my window, this guy started leaning on his horn. Like, really leaning on it nonstop for about 2 minutes. Which doesn't sound like a lot but when it's a REALLY LOUD HORN it's forever. I got so angry that I threw open my window and yelled SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU THINK PEOPLE DON'T LIVE HERE!??!?!?
I don't think he heard me but I was really unreasonably angry about it. I fumed about it to Allison for like 10 minutes after, like "motherfuckers don't think people live here and can't hear it, bla bla bla so rude and pointlessly obnoxious," etc etc, and it still makes me angry even thinking about it now.

We live on the corner of a very busy intersection, and I just can't seem to get over the amount of loud cars that pass by our windows. I'm guilty of this too, I guess, but people stop outside the intersection and we can hear the loud rap music in our apartment with the windows closed. The sirens probably bother me the most. A loud siren comes roaring down McMechen or Mount Royal pretty much every few hours every day, and it always unsettles me for a good while every time. Firetrucks and ambulances have the absolute loudest and most obnoxious horns in existence, and apparently people in Baltimore have forgotten the protocol for pulling over for firetrucks and ambulances, so they just leeeeean on their horns. So, in addition to the sound of sirens raping my eardrums, there's the added HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HONK HOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKK of the firetrucks. So, lovely.

Did I mention that I really, really, really, really hate car horns? Especially when people do it just to be obnoxious, and it's not just a perfunctory "hey, buddy, you're about to crash into me" kind of thing. That's one of the things that bothers me about east coast cities. People don't know how to drive.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless restless!

Thursday, October 15, 2009

note to self:

it's okay to make bad art sometimes it's okay to make bad art sometimes it's okay to make bad art sometimes it's okay to make bad art sometimes it's okay to make bad art sometimes it's okay to make bad art sometimes IT'S OKAY TO MAKE BAD ART SOMETIMES IT'S OKAY TO MAKE BAD ART SOMETIMES IT'S OKAY TO MAKE BAD ART SOMETIMES IT'S OKAY TO MAKE BAD ART SOMETIMES IT'S OKAY TO MAKE BAD ART SOMETIMES IT'S OKAY TO MAKE BAD ART SOMETIMES IT'S OKAY TO MAKE BAD ART SOMETIMESAAAAUGHRGHRGHRGHGRguiohsdfgoijs;dfbl;kjdfgpo;iuhasdf;jkasdfkjhasdfliuhdfgoijafg




:c

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Illustration is hard. Whiney whine whine.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Uhh...

okay Baltimore.

also: Funny times at the Inner harbor today...

1. Comic-con = freaks in costumes
2. Ravens gave = giant sea of purple and black
3. Zombie walk - gaggles of random zombies stumbling around going urrrg... brains......

comicon+ravens+zombie = lol.

ALSO: bought a pretty sweet print from This guy. John Tyler Christopher.. it's worth checking out! Very inspired by Mucha and Rembrandt.

Friday, October 9, 2009

aDonai

Heheeeeeeeee. I just dreamt my Jewish friend couldn't eat anything at the cafeteria because it wasn't kosher, so he got an alternative called "Donai Dollars" instead of "Dining Dollars."

Then I woke up and Elle was sitting next to me, and I said "Can he really do that??????"
and she said "huh??"

Silly. It's interesting when you confuse dreams with reality.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Furies

I had another very strange dream last night.

The first part was me and a group of friends being the sneaky tea society and going around and setting the whole thing up (it involved booths and signs) and surprising everyone. Like they would all get all sad because they thought that it wasn't happening then they would discover it and be happy.
But that's not the important part.

In the later part of my dream, I was approached by a girl I know (who is one of the sunniest people I know) with plans to kill herself. She looked so sad and defeated as she pulled out her plans for suicide (she made a plan with reference photos and everything). She convinced her friends to do it with her, and their plan was to commit some kind of ritual suicide (I can't remember exactly how) while acting as the Fates or the Furies (I can't remember which one, but they both seem pretty relevant). She showed me photos of girls dressed up in fancy, goddess-like outfits against a swirled gold background. The dresses were floaty and dark colors - generally dark blue and green with slightly lighter looping circles and they wore gold belts around their waists. They sat faced away from the camera, towards the wall behind them, their legs out daintily and their hands resting on their knees. It was just so weird that her plans for suicide were so dramatic and elegant. And that she convinced to friends to do it with her.

So I had to talk her out of it. I don't remember exactly how I did it, but I managed to somehow with a lot of convincing, then told her to go home and relax and take the day off from work, and that I could cover her.

Then Elle came up to me and was like "Where is she going?"
And I Replied, still shaken, I sent her home to relax because she told me she was going to kill herself."
and she replied with a knowledgeable nod and look. "That poor girl," she said.

It was strange and pretty sad.

Saturday, October 3, 2009

Some very funny things happened.

Some stranger ran by us with a slice of pizza in his hand going "free pizza!" and ran down the street and turned the corner
then 10 seconds later another stranger ran by us saying "I'm gonna beat that fag"
and chased him around the corner.
10 minutes later, we see him with his friends, red stuff (blood or sauce?) on his shirt, getting into a cab.

Then a group of drunk black guys walked by and told us that we needed a little BARACK in our lives, HUSSEIN O-BAMA, and proceeded to tell us that if we want them to fuck us, we need to "lysol that shit." lolz fell's point.

and Elle's friend Melanie was at the arcade game contemplating playing it and this random drunk stranger handed her 50 cents, adamant that she plays it, repeating that it's so throwback to the "80s or 70s or whatever".

lolz fell's point on a friday night at 2am.

on a different note, the sky tonight is not a muddy orange, or a bruised purple, but a deep, brilliant blue. That's a good sign for something, right?

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Best renaissance painting ever.

"Garden of Earthly Delights" by Heironymus Bosch. It's epic.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

I've become such an art nerd, today I complimented a friend's parakeet for its cerulean and cobalt feathers. Oy Vey.

Friday, September 18, 2009

<3


fucking love Charles Burns.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

wacked dreams.

I had another really strange, vivid dream last night. I don't remember much, it is kind of hazy now... but:

the first part involved climbing small mountains. In the dream I was excited and exhilarated when I reached the top. I don't remember what the goal was though.

the second part involved hiking in lush, green forests. There was some kind of machine device that would take you to whatever forest scene you wanted.. and there were rows and rows of square photos of beautiful forests with lush green plants and crystal clear lakes. Really picturesque forests, the kind you want to spend all your time in.

The last part of the dream found me at a summer camp. My campers were aged 12-13 years old. There were these two campers, 12-year old girls who were inseparable friends. One was blonde and thin and the other was dark-haired. Something was "off" about the blonde one, she had a very blank, wide-eyed stare and tiny mouth that made her look sort of like a zombie.
While looking around one time, I found a door in a large expanse of white wall that I hadn't known was there. Finding it unlocked, I opened it. To my shock, the blonde girl and the dark haired girl were naked inside, and they both stared at me wide-eyed before sort of backing off into a corner. I looked around the high-ceilinged room, which looked to be an extension of the camp's building. It was dark, and covering the walls was this really creepy shrine to boobs. There were pictures of boobs all over the walls, close-ups, far-away shots, just lots and lots of boobs. Creeped out, I moved farther back into the connected rooms. They were very dark, and hanging from the ceiling of each room was a different costume, hanging horizontally as if there was a limp person hanging in the air. I distinctly remember a jester costume and a witch costume. I realized that they were having some kind of lesbian sex cult going on in there, which involved costumes, which I remember thinking was really fucked up because they were 12 years old. At that point, the blonde girl appeared behind me, and she started trying to seduce me, all the while looking at me with her creepy blank-eyed stare. I started to back away quickly towards the door, and she kept coming towards me, till I finally reached the door and ran out and slammed it behind me.

That's when I woke up.
That was seriously, seriously creepy. I already don't like middle schoolers but... sheesh.

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Tommy Decker

I had this sad dream last night where I had a baby.

It wasn't a normal pregnancy, I remember I was just pregnant for 2 weeks and just popped out a baby. There weren't many details concerning that. I felt hesitant but excited, ready to embrace this new challenge. I remember at first it was a normal size baby, I named him Tommy. He was an adorable baby with bright blue eyes and an adorable smile, and I loved him instantly, I have a distinct memory of holding him in my hands and looking at his face. Then, in the rest of the dream, I remember he was shrunken so that he was a tiny baby, something that you could fit in the palm of your hand.
I had a lot of close calls where almost lost him - I left him somewhere, then came back and got him. I remember he was very cute, and he would burrow his tiny face and hands into stuff, and smile up at me. Then, at the end of the dream, I lost him. I left him somewhere, and when I came back I couldn't find him. I scoured my entire room and house looking for him, but I still couldn't find him. I was heartbroken. I went to the restaurant next door and told them to put up ads and call people in a desperate attempt to find him. Finally, some lady called me back, saying that she was so glad that she finally found the birthmother for her baby Tommy Decker. I got excited for a second, but then she said he was three years old, and I knew it couldn't be my baby, so I was sad again.

then I woke up, sad. And it still kind of depresses me to think about it. It's one of those dreams where the person you dream up is so vivid that when you wake up you kind of miss them. That's what it feels like with Tommy.
I have never wanted a baby. I have never liked babies. I have never been able to understand the concept of someone hating babies but only loving her own. But I think I get it now.

a dream like this has to be symbolic for something, right?

Thursday, September 10, 2009

vey and oy

I was thinking... maybe I should stop fooling myself and realize that I am never going to be able to accomplish the whole "understated" style thing that I want. I don't think understated is even in my list of (limited) art vocabulary. Maybe I should just make ridiculous art all the time, instead of trying to make it look "good" or realistic, or trying to invent a style that just isn't mine. I'm growing into this new style and aesthetically it is pleasing but then I'm scared that my old style, which I have always hated but am now nostalgic for for some reason, is going to go completely away and I am going to be an illustration-bot. Man I am fickle. I don't know what I want, ever.
I just want to be good at drawing pictures. that's all I need. that and Sleep. which I am currently not getting. so bye.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

\

'nuff said, I think.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Monday, August 31, 2009

bradoodle


All moved in.... the bras are on the hook like usual. Funny what habits you fall into.
Doodled with my tablet.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Hawaii ain't even a real state!

I think if I keep hearing stories about birthers I will move to Canada. I mean... white people like threatening to move to Canada right?
Or Cuba, seeing as it's so strictly forbidden.
don't you think that if Obama was not born in the United States he wouldn't have made it all the way to presidency?? You'd think they had fact-checkers and vetters for those kinds of issues. That would be kind of a major error.
honestly... those who can't do, teach, and those who can't teach teach english, and those who can't teach english sit around their trailer park (excuse me - "mobile estate") and rant about inane conspiracy theories and politics all day.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Boooooredom

I am so bored. Boreder than bored. Thankfully I did not turn my phone into an iBrick or lose all my stufff so that was a relief. Stupid phone.
I have been doing some little doodles with my tablet... key word doodles. nothing too sophisticated... feels nice. That thing is still kind of hard to draw with.. re: making straight lines and judging where the curve is going to go before you make it. So I end up making a bunch of wild stray lines.... haven't quite gotten used to it yet. But a.) that's why there's this magical thing called the eraser and b.) I'm not an old dog yet. I can learn.
Some doodles: (I'm still learning how to color without looking fake-y and weird)


I think I almost bricked my phone. thats kind of scary. I think its resurrecting itself right now. ah the wonders of apple.

oh my drink cup from my drunken french-fries and chicken-wings run on friday:
"we are happy to serve you at ANY hour. no questions asked."

thank you jack in the box. I'm truly touched that your establishment is a no judgment zone.

Friday, August 7, 2009

List of people who I don't understand why they are famous and wish they were not so I wouldn't have to see their face all the time.

MEGAN FOX (UUGGHHHHH whyyyyy skanky and grosss)
Paris Hilton (of course, no one really understands except for the fact that she's got a shit-ton of money and girls will practically kiss her feet to be "bffs" with her)

Thursday, August 6, 2009

I was uncomfortable so I went in the other room and got a roll of tape and made like I was doing something really important and took a piece put it on a random sheet of paper all carefully for no reason.

why am I so weird.

One time in 8th grade Ben Weissman asked me if he could snap a rubber band on my arm and I told him he could. He asked if it hurt and it really did but I said it didn't because I didn't want to look like a weak girl.

One time in AYSO there was this girl on my team named Jamilla or Jamaica or something. She got hit in the butt really hard with a ball and started crying, and the coach to cheer up said "It was a BOOTY-ful shot!!!" and she just cried harder.
Gosh.. You'd think all I'm getting paid to do at work is sit and fart around on my blog... cough

as opposed to farting around on the internet looking for tree facts.

Ran into this when I was on the LA Times Website... Is Transformers 2 Racist??

I mean... I agree with the "Little Black Sambots" and the "ENTIRE female gender" thing, that was pretty ridiculous I must say. Call me a Feminist but come on... that entire movie was basically a tribute to Megan Fox showing off her ass and making her trademark Acting Faces. (For Instance - "I am Acting Very Sad Right Now" or "I am Acting Very Angry Right Now" or "I am Full of Heart-Rendering Emotion Right Now" or "I am Acting Please Fuck Me Right Now" faces). And... there were those two robots who were the Black robots with monkey faces, gold teeth, illiteracy and bad grammar who basically beat each other up and called each other names the whole time and acted stoned (if robots could get stoned). The only thing that was missing from that fun little stereotype was them wearing baggy pants and calling each other nigga. Although if the producers could have used that word I'm sure they would.


also:
I keep forgetting that it's ACTUALLY 1962 in America still. Sheesh. I mean come on, we can't have those got-dang commie Cubans trying to convert our fine, upstanding citizens, or even worse, gasp! inhabit our fine United States.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Friday, July 17, 2009

I'm really tired of trying to learn on the fly. It's not my style. I'm not the type who can tackle challenges head-on and figure them out with confidence - I'm the type who freaks out and questions herself and wastes time and flaaaaaaails. AARRRRRRGGGGH.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

I should be drawing.. and not spouting about it on my stupid blog. Fuuuuuuuuck.

At least at the science factory I was productive. Sort of.

also: watched The Ramen Girl (possibly the worst movie I have ever seen, and that is definitely not a hyperbole) and all I could think was....

OH NOOO BRITTANY MURPHY WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR LIPS???

she looks like the offspring of pamela anderson and donald duck!

Friday, July 10, 2009

masturbator

I don't know why I have to always be contrarian. I was perfectly fine with bullshit art until I went to MICA. But it's all been totally thrown up in the air for some reason. Now I have this weird growing resentment against the whole thing.
Maybe it's me who's being pretentious, but as I dive deeper into the "art world" and art school and everything, the more I realize how much I hate art. Or rather, just fine art. It is completely pretentious and has no practical or applicable purpose... I don't know if this makes me a bad person but... I remember talking to someone in the beginning of the year and they told me 

"this might make me sound bad, but I just want to draw. I don't want to think deeply about my art, or help further the world, or meet a ton of new people, I just want to freaking draw. That's what I'm at this school for and that's all I'm going to do." 

And I think i'm slowly coming to that kind of realization. I'm just so sick of "art." I just can't bring myself to be into it... it all seems unbearably silly to me.. and to steal smarter peoples' words, completely masturbatory. 

Because really, deep down, who creates art without the intention of some people looking at it and praising it? 

but that's just me I guess. Art is therapeutic for some people, I just must not get it. 

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Ego

This is why I almost never listen to the radio anymore. 


And this: 


But this is why I dooo go on youtube. 

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Red Stripe

Kiddie Birthday parties. That wonderful phenomenon where everybody decides it would be a great idea to feed kids sugar and give them lots of presents and let them misbehave and run around in a sugar-crazed frenzy. I remember them fondly when I was a kid - jumping around in the bouncy-bounce things, eating cake and ice cream, running around and playing tag, getting gift-bags, playing stupid birthday party games like pop-the-balloon to get prizes, or just plain tag. 
They're fun when you're a kid, but I had never really been on the other side of the line until today. When you're an adult, your job is to shmooze and brag about your children and  act like you're really excited to see everyone. And I'm in that lovely in-between phase where you're still a kid but you're technically an adult - you're too old to jump around in the bouncy bounce (that's only acceptable if you have children and you're in there with them) and you're too young to talk about kids or jobs. So, unsure of what to do and feeling awkward and childless, I pulled a Red Stripe out of the little ice tub, cracked it open, and sat on the couch sipping my Jamaican beer slowly as different pseudo-relatives came and went from the places next to me on the couch. 
I thought, Me, an adult, what a funny joke. I sit here with my beer and talk about college and My Career Path and try to smile and join in as the real adults talk about babies, law firms, architecture, Danksos, more babies, and other such interesting things. On the inside, I am wondering what my girlfriend is doing or when is the acceptable time to text her or why my skirt is so damn tight or when I can get another beer. 
And While I'm technically in the realm of the adults, it's clear that I'm still my parents' Baby. They still brag about me to other people and tell them for me that I'm at Art School and I'm going to be an Illustrator and I work for Claire and isn't that all just great? While I stand there awkwardly blushing and looking at my feet. 
They start talking about shoes. 
"looks like you've got some battle wounds..." they say to me. They've noticed the bandages on my feet from getting warts removed. That's generally not information I throw out for public consumption so I'm about to make up a good reason for having bandages on my feet but my parents jump in -
"Oh, she inherited my propensity for getting warts... on her feet this time..." and they proceed to talk about how i've had warts on my hands since 7th grade, while I stand there and wait for the earth to swallow me up. 
"Hahaha... Yup. So much fun!" I say jokingly, smiling and trying to mask the horrifying fact that my parents just told a group of 10 other adults that I have warts. 

And that pretty much settles it - Silly me for ever thinking that I was straddling the line between adults and kids, or that I could ever be older than 5 in my relatives' eyes. I guess I really am still one of the children. I probably will be when I'm 40. When I think about it, all the older women probably feel similar when they're with their parents, I just don't notice because I'm too absorbed in my own teenage awkwardness. 

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Of course

I found this list in my notebook that I wrote a couple days ago.. then the little addendum the day after. Thought it was pretty funny . 

Pissed off Mollie's list of Of Courses: 

OF COURSE: 

When you're trying to leave in a rush, you can't find the shirt you want to wear. 
When you're trying to leave in a rush, you can't find the shoes you want to wear. 
When you're trying to leave in a rush, you can't find any clean socks. 
When you're trying to leave in a rush, you can't find your sketchbooks or any of the stuff you need.
When you're trying to leave in a rush, your car is almost out of gas. 
When you're trying to get somewhere in a hurry, people decide that it is the perfect time to drive slowly.
When you're trying to get somewhere in a hurry, traffic is horrible. 


Sensible Mollie's list of Of Courses: 

OF COURSE:

your shirt was where you left it, just overlooked in the panic attack of not being able to find it. 
your shoes were right where you left them, just overlooked in the panic attack of not being able to find them.
your socks are all in the same drawer, just lost in the mess you create ripping it all apart in a panic attack of not being able to find them.
your sketchbooks are all in one place, you just mess it all up in the panic attack of not being able to find them. 
you knew you should have filled up the car yesterday, you were just lazy. 
Other people are driving like sane people, you are driving like a crack-crazed maniac. 
Traffic is the same as it always is, you are just cranky. 

Pondering......

Why have we been raised to think that strangers always mean us harm and (as women) that strange men only want to have sex with us? Why have we been raised to think that the best way to get through life is to eliminate as much human interaction as possible?
This has been bothering me for a while. I notice that people on the street don't even look at each other. People in airplanes and airports always sit with at least one space between them, and only take the middle seat when there are no more aisle and window seats left and they are forced to. There's self-checkout and self-bank telling and all that stuff so that we don't have to interact with the bank tellers or cashiers. We can just swipe our cards and be on our way. Online shopping, video games (particularly world of warcraft), things like that where people can feel like they're interacting with others without actually having to. Strangers look at you like you're crazy when you say anything to them on the street.
I even find myself falling into this without thinking. I'm at work and I see the group of heating installer guys sitting and eating lunch and looking at me and my first thought is automatically "ugh, pigs." I see them walking around the house and every time one looks at me I'm like, ew. My first instinct is to ignore them completely or give them the little tight smile that says "Don't talk to me." Then, one of the guys starts talking to me. I think, Why is he talking to me? He asks me about college, what i'm doing, what i'm studying, all this normal stuff, talking about how he's in night school and wants to finish college and suddenly I think, Jeez Mollie stop being so fucking uptight. He's just some 30 year old guy who works with the heating installer company and goes to adult college. When did I start thinking this way, that every stranger who approaches you is some kind of creep or someone trying to hit on you or wants something from you? Sometimes people really only just want to chat.

Not to naively say that everyone just wants to chat; sure there are a lot of bad people, but I think we forget that there are also just as many people who are completely harmless.




...or maybe i'm procrastinating.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Adults

Nothing like getting to the age where adults will serve you alcohol and get tipsy and share intimate details of their life with you. 

Sunday, June 7, 2009

When in Rome....

I just had this randomly pop into my head, and now it won't get out. I haven't thought about this in a long time. I was thinking... When I'm afraid that I'm getting too rude and selfish..  

I can't remember exactly when or what occasion this was, but I think I was in middle school. So I was already a shy, awkward girl in the first place. It was some kind of family gathering that coincided with my aunt Judy's birthday, and since am good friends with Jamie, when she was called to dinner I naturally followed suit. (Usually everything we do as a family, we have to do together.) We walked into a big dining room, where many of my family members were sitting and chatting with one another. 
"Come on!" Jamie pulled my arm as she walked over to the table where her mother was sitting, and there were two empty seats. We sat down and started looking over the menu, and I learned that this was Aunt Judy's birthday dinner. I told her happy birthday. We were chatting and giggling like preteen girls do when all the sudden I felt someone behind me. 
"Excuse me." It was my Uncle Ross. I saw people at the table look up. "This is Judy's birthday dinner, for her family only (we were second cousins so apparently not considered enough family). You're going to have to leave, I'm sorry." I don't remember much of what happened after that, but I remember my parents being livid and Judy exclaiming "Ross! Don't be Ridiculous." 
And I remember most the feeling of being publicly embarrassed by someone who was supposedly family. Judy and others convinced me that it was fine that I stay, and I believe someone forced Ross to apologize to me (really? what kind of grown man has to be forced into apologizing to a young girl for being rude?) but the whole dinner I was uncomfortable. I picked at my food, was extremely self-conscious about everything I was wearing and saying. I felt like an unwanted guest, the one that everyone assures that they want there but afterwards bitches about. 
My parents were absolutely livid, and I remember them talking angrily in the hotel room about how Ross is an asshole and he's a cheap bastard and all he ever wanted to do is save a little money (coincidentally, he ended up making everyone split the check for that dinner. Including Judy. On her own birthday dinner.) I think I may have even cried. I was just embarrassed. I was like 12 for Christ's sake!

This still makes me angry, not because of me specifically, because I got over it, but just that people can be so rude and selfish and uptight and not realize that they are hurting other people and need to change. And I get so afraid that I'm going to become one of those people if I don't watch myself. 

I don't know why I'm thinking about this, it happened a long time ago, but I guess I still haven't really forgiven him for that for some reason. Subconsciously my opinion of everything he does is given with utter contempt, he will always be the "Cheap Bastard" in my mind. I guess you're impressionable at that age. And he still has yet to prove me wrong, even now that I'm nineteen. 

So to finish that first unfinished sentence:  When I'm afraid I'm getting too rude and selfish, just think... What would Ross do? And don't do it. 


On a happier note, here's another doodle. It's me and my brother :3
and an ADORABLE picture I found of Casey and Lenny.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Doodle City

Elle is coming to California!! 
!!!

Here is a doodle I made while my family was making extensive musician talk - my grandpa was really cute and wanted to keep it.
 
And a sketch of my cousin. He asked me to sign it.. I've never signed anything before hahaha. 
 


Friday, May 29, 2009

ism

I also realized I was using another dad-ism. 
When the kid I was babysitting was complaining about something I told her that it was too bad because "Rules is Rules." Wtf?

Also: another random favorite: Dumbest things ever done by airport security.

Pyramid


I put a new thingy in my face. It's spiky. 

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Pretty Pink Ribbon

I just want to go hide under a rock.


Maybe i'll ask this guy if I can intern with him. He works in  Pasadena. 

Or Jaime Zollars, a MICA alum who lives in Pasadena:

It's perfect but I probably won't be able to get up the courage to do it. Out of lack of what to say. And lack of any good work. God, Work. I'm so fucking sick of that word. I never want to hear it again.
Look at my work
I love your work, 
I need to produce work
after saying it to myself so many times, it has started to lose its meaning. Artists have a funny relationship with that word... or maybe I am just crazy and it's just me. Saying I'm making work makes me feel like I'm some facsimile of a real artist. I'm really just vomiting stupid ugly stuff out of my brain onto a piece of paper out of necessity to pass classes and calling it work. Maybe I will resolve to not use that word again the rest of the summer.. maybe it will make me feel better. 

Man fuck all this art school bullshit, it makes me want to be sick. I don't want to make "work." I just want to draw stupid, pretty pictures that are fun to look at. I'm so tired of having to sound deep and pretentious in order to sound legitimate. Except I can't even do that apparently without flipping a shit about it. I'll take Elle's advice to draw a picture every day... then I'll actually have a goal instead of floundering around freaking out like I always do.



Here's a stupid thing I made in illustrator. 

 

Monday, May 11, 2009

agh

last night agh

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Heh. heheh. 

so uncomfortable, but so worth it.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Mikkel Sommer

Illustrator from Denmark. Funny, Awesome. 




Thursday, April 30, 2009

Sculptcha



YET ANOTHER installation..... but lame this time haha. 

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

hmf

Ugh. I harbor secret love for things like this: 


hahaha, burlesque dancers. 

want?

Oh I think I am in love with this website. want.

stop staring!


want this dress so bad. 

Monday, April 20, 2009

Sculptural forms.....

is slightly taking over my life... or just sculptures in general. Funny that that's the direction things have taken. 

I made this installation, It's my first one I think. It came out a lot more creepy and violent than I expected. But then again,  a lot of my work turns out to be creepy, sexual, violent, or a mix of the three. 

Oh wait, I lied, it's not my first one, that was the weird knitting thing me and Natalie made for drawing. I'll post pictures of that when she sends them to me. They turned out pretty cool.... more all-nighters for that woo. 








also: here's this gem I found on modelmayhem the other day. 

Sunday, April 19, 2009

ugh

cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche cliche

WHATEVER 

3 more weeks. 


Wednesday, April 15, 2009

adsf

Latex arms, latex arms

Everything is good. Awesome even. So why do I still feel like a wreck??

Tuesday, April 14, 2009



Hello (H)elements. 

I

No, I think I'll sit in Doris and freak myself out more instead. 
I can't decide if I hate myself for being too selfish or too shallow. maybe one just leads to another. Maybe I don't know anything because I don't to take myself or anything seriously. If I got thrown out into society right now and had to take care of myself, I'd be like a monkey with a typewriter. I feel like my whole life is like a monkey with a typewriter already, actually. So much banging around, no actual substance getting through.

whine, whine, whine, me, me, me, that's what I'm afraid people are thinking when they talk to me. I don't know how to deal with other people. 

blarg.

I am at Workstudy again. Falling asleep in my chair. I had to give a tour. And pretend like I know stuff about stuff. And I don't know shit about shit. 
I feel like whenever I slow down and stop to think about stuff my life becomes an emotional crisis about nothing. I feel like I live so caught up in everything that I can never really experience anything. That doesn't make sense at all. Because I am so uncomfortable with myself, It often feels like it's not me experiencing my own life, I'm a stranger looking in. 
I pass off all my emotions off as fake or stupid. It's just force of habit. If I'm upset about something, I will convince myself that I'm being ridiculous and it's not a big deal at all, and then I will be upset because I feel frivolous and stupid. Or that I'm manufacturing angst in order to feel self-important. Because I'm secretly scared that I don't care about anything. 
I remember my internal conflict about Oleanna - I watched a woman get beat up on screen by a male teacher, and It didn't change my opinion about the play. I still hated her, and I didn't even feel a twinge of sympathy for her. I was like, maybe my emotions are broken. Maybe they are - somedays I'm like an impenetrable shield, I don't care about anything, then some days everything is a huge upset and I cry about everything like a retard. 
It's a vicious cycle - as I write this, I am thinking to myself - Mollie, this is stupid, you don't really feel this, you just want an excuse to feel upset, you're fucking fine, stop bitching. 

And then I just totally freak myself out. like right now. 
which is why this post is going to end. 
and I am going to leave Workstudy and do homework to occupy myself. Cause I'm awesome at putting things in the back of my mind and forgetting about them! 

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

qwerty

I Thought of more things I unintentionally say because my parents say them. 
The other day I told someone I'd "yetch" at something. My mom says that. She says "yetch" and "yarf" and "yuck up" or just "yuck" instead of barf or throw up or hurl. 

Just thinkin. I'm at the work-study office. I'm really bored. I was writing random words on a piece of paper, looking at my handwriting and I had an epiphany about the letter s. when you write a really sloppy word and you have a really sloppy s, it starts to take the shape of the cursive s. same with R. a really sloppy uppercase R looks kind of like a cursive lowercase r. I thought, gasp, I figured out why those letters look so weird in cursive! Epiphany! 

Yes. that's how bored I am. It's kind of like the whole apple-macintosh epiphany I had in the cafeteria.... I apparently enjoy having stupid epiphanies about things people realized light years before I did.

I also found the most sexist romantic novel in the universe. I felt like a total douche reading this book, which was obviously a romantic novel, with a cheesy illustration on the cover and everything, and underlining things and really, really studying it. I only did that because I am planning on using it for a project. Yes, accidental feminism, whatever. I will post passages from it later when I get back to my apartment. It really was appalling, I thought that maybe since it was pretty outrageous that it was a piece of feminist literature making fun of chauvinistic men, but I looked it up online and apparently this author is just a legit romantic novel writer, and that book got some kind of reviewer's choice award. And I said, What The Fuck is wrong with some women. Really. You'd think it was impossible, or at least counter-intuitive to be a chauvinistic pig to women if you are a woman. But people continue to amaze us. And I don't ever do the feminist-tirade thing but even I felt the need. 

That leads me to another thing. I heard someone the other day say "society tells girls to be skinny." And I thought, Society told them? Who exactly is this society? How do they make people do things? And why do they have such a huge say in what everyone does? It's something that people say when they want to have something to say for class, or they want to make gross generalizations or make a stupid, lazy assessment about why women feel pressured to be skinny in today's society. You inhabit a society, it doesn't tell you to do things. That's something that bothers me for some reason, because it just makes people sound stupid when they say it and it makes them sound like one of those 'rebel without a cause' people who are like rebel against society!!!!! Annoying. I don't want to be cynical or pessimistic, but if you're rebelling against "society" then you're only feeding into the idea of society and really, instead of separating yourself from it you're only making yourself a subcategory of it. like "The Malcontents" or "The Misanthropes." 

whatever. my brain is wanderingg and this will be the longest post ever. Thank you workstudy. There was a protest against Westboro Baptist Church yesterday at Towson, because apparently Towson High is faggot-infested and they need to repent or something. I didn't go, because I am lazy. Same with the protest against prop. 8 a while back. I'm a terrible queer. The Gay agenda would be disappointed. 

Monday, March 30, 2009

haha.















haha, Old RISD pictures.  yey, nostalgia.