Tuesday, September 30, 2008

breaking news on breakouts

I apologize that I have not really posted anything of substance lately, and this is no exemption.  It is really kind of shallow and/or vain, but it is highly important to me.  

I have had really really bad skin since I was like 13.  Gross acne, mostly all along my chin.  Which means I have been desperately trying for the last ten years to have pretty skin.  


With the help of a cocktail of birth control and proactiv, I think that my skin has finally grown up.  I haven't used proactiv since...July?  I'm still on le pill, but I haven't broken out since then.  I do have some scars which I think will only go away with something like microdermabrasion, but other than that, I finally have healthy looking skin.  

Finally.  At 23.  Better late than never?  

Sunday, September 28, 2008

his hair was perfect

I found my Halloween costume!!!!!!!

My friend Zach and I are going to be Andy Warhol and Edie Sedgwick. 

I'm Andy, he is Edie.  

I cannot wait!

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

I see trees of green

It is just after noon and I have just finished furiously writing a brief paper for my gender and feminism in art history test.  My room looks out into the "backyard".  I have a set of two old, wooden windows and my desk is just under them.  If I am sitting at my desk and look up, all I see are trees and little bits of sky.  Today is one of the most beautiful days I have experienced, aside from me spilling coke all down the front of my white shirt this morning and not studying for this test until just now.  It is sunny, painfully blue and fa fresco.  As I was typing my paper at my desk, surrounded by papers on Artemisia Gentileschi and Charpentier, I heard a breeze stirring the leaves of the trees and looked up.  All I could see were trees and sky.  Trees, sky, breeze, kitten, art and feminism. 

What a wonderful world.  

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

i go back to black

I have, in the last month, acquired two rather small black things.  One of these no one seems to care that much about, and the other has caused...let's say, quite a stir.  

They both were relatively inexpensive, under $100, one being about $25 more than the other.  One will perhaps greatly influence the way other people view me and the other could do the same, but in a slightly more amusing way.  They both impact my daily life and both make me very happy.  

The first thing I got was a tattoo of the word "timshel" across my left wrist.  It was $60 and more uncomfortable than painful.  I really like how it has turned out and am happy to have a constant reminder that everything in life is a choice and regardless of my circumstances, I still have a choice.  In other words, I have a constant reminder to go out everyday and be a total BAMF.  

The second black object that I acquired is a lil black kitten I adopted.  The adoption was $85, and she will, I'm sure, cost me much more in money, time and patience.  

Like I said, one has been more well received than the other.  While the kitten is a living creature that I have to feed, love and clean up after, AND was more expensive, no one seems to care that I am slowly amassing a menagerie of black animals.  The tattoo, on the other hand (pun intended...'cause you know, its near my hand...) might as well be black plague instead of black ink.  My father said he was disappointed in me (I'm sure he says this out of concern for how future employers will view me...I'm sure schools don't hire art professors with tattoos).  My boss has openly said he thinks all tattoos are trashy.  

I reckon then I'm a trashy cat lady.  

Not a level-headed individual well on her way to earning many, many degrees.  

Johnny Cash and Amy Winehouse will still be my friends.  

Monday, September 22, 2008

I saw a werewolf drinking a pina colada

I need suggestions as to what to be for Halloween.  I have a few ideas, but I welcome ANY.  My ideas are as follows:

-The log lady from Twin Peaks
-Amelia Earheart 
-A painter (scarf, beret, moustache, etc)
-Bonnie (of Bonnie and Clyde, which would require a male counterpart)

Absolutely nothing trashy, please.  Unless it would be to dress as white trash.  But no sexed up nurse or devil or kitten or something lame like that.  



Sunday, September 21, 2008


when i see people eating un-toasted bagels with nothing on them, it makes me want to vomit

Thursday, September 18, 2008

le sigh...un souhait naitre dans dix huit siecle France

Since I discussed briefly my minor and how it relates to my self-image yesterday, I thought today I might discuss briefly my major and how it relates to my self-image.  I am an art history major, and this semester am taking FOUR art history classes.  One of them being 18th century European art.  

We are now studying Rococo genre paintings.  We were discussing the de Troy work Diana Resting and how it relates to Rococo, but how it is evident in the work that de Troy was still an Academie trained artist.  One of her examples were the women in the work.  Let me expound on that.  

Dr. Luxenburg said that because the women were idealized, that showed that de Troy was trained.  Let me also say that if you were to ask me to describe myself to someone or if someone else were to describe me, they might use the words fair skinned, dark hair and some form of the words "pleasantly plump", which I don't think exist in the English language without a negative connotation.  Anyway, Dr. L went on to clarify what she meant when she said that the female figures were idealized.  She said "You have to remember that when I say idealized, I mean what was seen as most attractive in France at that time.  The women are buxom, with pale, pale skin and chestnut hair.  This is what would have been seen as 'ideal' at the time of de Troy's training".  


I'm just a couple of centuries too late.  By American standards, I'm not classified as "ideal".  Had I lived in the place of my ancestors in the 1700s however, I would have been considered a fox.  You win again, current American beauty standards, you win again.  

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

warning: blog about boobs

My boobs have never been that big.  The women in my family tend to have larger breasts, so when I hit puberty and nothing really happened and I turned 18 and nothing really happened and I turned 22 and nothing really happened, I kind of gave up on the idea of being well-endowed.  And I FINALLY became ok with that. My shirts fit over them, dresses too. I often don't wear a bra because, hell, I don't really need to.  My back never hurts because of them.  Its just enough to be feminine, but not too much that I have to purchase special brassieres.  I used to believe that if a woman had large breasts, she was to be really excited about that because a large chest=attractive.  However, in my tender college years, i have learned that is rarely the case.  

I have two friends who have C or bigger boobs.  They hate them.  They both want a reduction.  They so often complain that they are too big, they get in the way, they make their back hurt, they don't fit in the bra they have on and they refuse to buy a size bigger.  My first reaction is usually "aw, my friends are uncomfortable, I'm sorry" and that thought is quickly replaced by "hheeeelllll yeah!  what do American beauty standards know about women?  NOTHING!"

As many of you know, I am a women's studies minor, so this kind of thing is HIGHLY interesting to me.  This example is a reminder to me that those whacked out expectations of women to look a certain way are probably created by men.  And yes, I'm sure there is some Freudian or tribal sort of lust for large breasts because they symbolize fertility and motherhood and whatnot, however, who the hell decided that to be considered attractive, a woman had to have large breasts?  I don't know, but if I find him, I'd like to...I don't know, slap him or something because there are lots of women who do not think they are attractive because they don't have C+ boobs.  And then there are women who think they are unattractive BECAUSE they have large breasts.  While I have (mostly) come to terms with my breast size, there are loads of other women who have not.  I wish there was one less thing women had to critique on their own bodies.  

Next stop...accepting the fact that yes, my hip bones are in fact that wide.  The whole boob thing took almost ten years, the hips may take just as long.  

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

if you were gay, that'd be ok

This semester, I am taking italian 1002.  There are...12 of us in the class and there are two men in the class.  And that is it.  One of the two men I assumed was gay from the beginning (which I know, you should not assume about someone's sexuality just because of the way they talk or dress or sit or whatever) and that was later confirmed via facebook.  The other man...was Andrew.  

I have thought Andrew was so super cute since day one of italian 1002.  And I found out he plays the French horn.  And he has a black cat (like me!)  I talked to him briefly a few times in class.  I decided that I would make my move and ask him to study with me for our upcoming test.  Before doing so, I looked at his facebook page (because I am creepy) to see if he had a girlfriend.  

Andrew had several gay markers, which I will not go into at the moment.  

However, I refused to believe that out of around 15,000 men at the University of Georgia, someone thought it would be funny to put only two in a class of 12 and have both of men prefer the company of men.  I did end up studying with Andrew, and another girl in our class.  I kept trying to think of a way to ask if he was gay, but how do you bring that up?  I did ask about his relationship status on facebook, which says that he is married to some girl (which I took to mean that he was actually married, or that this was one of the gay markers I mentioned).  I asked him and he said "Ohhh no, I'm not married.  And as long as I live in America, I guess I won't be."


Ok ok that should have been a definite answer.  But no, I won't rest until I hear " I AM GAY".  Later, after we had all parted ways, I sent him a text asking what he meant when he said that.  I also followed it with "Cause if you're straight, I'd like to ask you out.  And if you're gay, well, I'd like to ask you to date me, without the sex."  He thought that was pretty funny and confirmed my suspicion, that he is in fact, gay.  I then asked him to spend lots of time with me and tell me that I'm pretty and how does he feel about just cuddling with women.  He's a good sport and thinks I'm funny.  I guess I have a new (gay) boyfriend.  In fact, I just got home from his concert.  He's in the orchestra.  

Two men in a class of 12.  What are the odds.  

Monday, September 1, 2008

You're going to argue with me over a spatula?

Today is my first day in my new apartment!  I have lived in le duplex for the past four years, so this is quite a nice change, aside from the apartment smell and chintzy wallpaper.  I have found myself making several trips to the store, I keep finding things that I need, which is kind of frustrating.  I have finally gotten to the point where I like my bathroom (THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE THAT I HAVE HAD A BATHROOM ATTACHED TO MY ROOM IT IS WONDERFUL), except the tub is rotting away from the wall, so I'll need to have that fixed.  Parker has kind of dominated the downstairs, which is ok with me, for now.  

Let me speak about Parker for a moment, if I may.  Parker is my older brother and is incredibly intelligent and incredibly maniacal. He has of late bounced around from state to state, with the same job and somehow, I'm still not clear on that story, ended up living back in Athens.  Parker has been known to drink occasionally, to excess.  I have been moving my stuff in over the last few days, and he has usually not been here when I am.  Yesterday I came by and saw his motorcycle outside, but did not see him.  His bedroom door was open, but he was not there.  I found him on the couch.  My coming in must have awoken him, as I soon heard "Dammit!  I'm supposed to be at work in 10 minutes!"  What the hell.  I continued what I was doing when he came upstairs, fully dressed and asked if I could take him to work.  What the hell. 

"You can't drive?"

"Well, you see, sister, I'm still slightly intoxicated from last night."  (it is 11:45am, by the way)

If this is any indication of how the next however-long-we-live-together-here is going to be, I'm going to...probably do something bad.  Or just be really pissed off.