note to self

paint a big polaroid.

I have a date!  HA! Oh man. Tooooo funny…

Ack!

UPDATE: He stood me up. Wow.

watch and houses

Fossil’s “favorite all-time watch” is the subject line of their newest email.  I knew what watch it would be!  It’s the watch I own!  ha!  I get compliments on it alllll the time. Cool.

These are some interesting houses and spaces.  Mostly because they are supposed to be amazing, but I don’t like them. I would not like my bathtub in the center of a long rectangular room.  Agh. So uncozy. I don’t think I even like the kitchen in the first house.  Or the dining room in the next few pictures down where the table perfectly lines up with the window.  I do like the way the first house looks on the outside, though…

interesting bookshelves

no more

I am no longer putting energy into people who only want to be involved in my life when they want to be and only when they want.

I am not here ONLY to fill YOU up when they are feeling empty, give YOU sympathy when you are feeling bad, give YOU encouragement when you are feeling discouraged. I’m running on empty and soon you’ll be getting nothing from me unless you give me something back.

I am also not some THING that can be ignored when you are feeling like ignoring.

I am sick of selfish people.

this week’s post secret

Interestingly enough, this week’s PostSecret has a secret that could have been written to me.  Possibly.  Never had that happen before.  Makes me wonder. hm. I kind of hope.

I want…

I want:

A desk.

Because I need a place to do my work.  Sitting on the couch with a sketch book on my crossed legs is not cutting it anymore.  I am only putting off the work because I know I will be uncomfortable.  I don’t want a desk in my room, though, because I know I will not be able to focus in here and there is no space for one.  I know where one could go…  I am shopping for a desk.

Storage.  Storage cubes, maybe.
Because I have so many art supplies.  It’s hard to find them when I need them.  And I want to keep so many things that most people would throw away because you really never know how or when you could use that thing in a project.  I am looking into one of closets right now (the one that some of my art stuff is stored in) and can clearly see that there is lots of room for a storage organization device.

A light box, lots of markers, a cutting board, a wacom, a lighting studio, and more would be great.  Thing is, I feel like I’m not reaching my full design potential becuase I don’t have the supplies I need to get there.  I also lack discipline.  But I find that the two are connected, really, so if I can fix one, perhaps the other will be aliviated a little, too.

want

Hand Job

I want this book.

I love doing my own Typography.  I’m about to start heading hard in that direction…

meh

I have a heck of a lot of homework.  3 huge projects.  3 really neat ones that could be great pieces for my portfolio.  I’m into all of them, but can’t get myself going.  Bah. I wish I had a studio at my apt. That would be quite helpful.

strong sensations

Sometimes I get overwhelmed with past senses. The way a certain place smelled, felt, or looked. The way something tasted. It can all come back in an instant. Tonight it was one place that flooded me… Hard, canvas-upholstered couch, coffee table just right for propping feet on, couch pillows that kind of hurt your ear when you lay your head on them. A smell. A warmth. Always a warmth. A cozy bed. Shit. Sometimes I miss things too much. I cry for the things I found cozy at any time, no matter the reasons I no longer experience them. Whether there is a good reason, an unfair reason, or just a plain old shitty reason. I can go back many, many years to any of countless memories. I’ll indulge myself in the first four that come to mind.

7 (and fewer) years ago. That bed. I still know how it felt. So soft. The cushion on top of the mattress. I remember exactly how my body pressed into it. His pillow always seemed to have a cold side somehow which was a magnificent thing. Navy blue sheets. Always. Moist in his room. Cooler in that room than the others. Smelled a little old, but not necessarily in a bad way.

7 years ago. Freshman dorm room. Cold floors. Cold cinder block walls. Cold air. Smelled old– in the bad, musty, mildewy way. Humid at night. Dirt on the floors always getting stuck in a layer to the bottom of my feet. Desk chairs made of an extremely coarse twill that hurt like the tiniest needles if your skin touched. The softest, light blue flannel sheets– cozy and warm in such a smelly, cold box– on such a stiff, plastic mattress. They stretched a little so you could really form a nice, tight coccon. LOUD, obnoxious girls at the end of the hall talking so fast you could barely tell what they were saying, but you could hear their constant, shrill noises, for damn sure.

Starting 24 years ago, to be frank. Nix Auto Parts. Grandpa. His NAPA. Essentially unchanging sensations I’ve experienced my whole life. Smell of grease, rubber, and torched metal. Noises. Banging. Familiar faces. Talking. Laughing. Phones ringing. Receipts printing from a semi-loud dot matrix printer. Lots of tapping on computer keyboards. Warm, sugary coffee. Shoes gripping a huge black, ribbed rubber mat that lays behind the counter. Dirty hands. Always dirty hands. Happiness. A small paragraph doesn’t even begin to do that place justice.

Tonight. Cozy couch with the slightest scent of cigarette from its previous owner. Warm in this room. Dimly lit. My favorite stretchy, cotton pajama bottoms. Canvas pillow that isn’t the softest… but it does have a lovely maroon and white patterned fabric. Achy heart. Tired body. Tired heart. Achy body.

Agh.