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"I was a lurching hobo of despair"
Mar. 5th, 2003 01:44 amI like to re-load my profile page, just to see if that damn weather pixie has changed.
Driving home today in the fucking freezing weather, ice forming a blanket on my car and the road, was fun. I almost spun-out twice. Heheh, I should have left Lawrence before I did. Had to pull over and get the ice off the car before getting home. Sweet. The interview went well. Tomorrow I send the "follow-up, thank you for your time, suck up card" because I really want this job. Because I really want my own place. Because I need my own space.
I'm consumed with thoughts of decorating my OWN home, consumed with thoughts of not having to be considerate and dancing around nearly naked. I met Elaine and Miranda in Lawrence today, before and after my interview. We did a little walk and shop down Mass. I was proud of myself. I didn't spend that much at all and I held back on the one expensive item I really wanted. It was a lamp, for $110. Seems pretty pricey for a lamp, methinks. But as Elaine informed me after I bitched about the price of a t-shirt in Urban Outfitters, I'm apparently cheap. ;) No, I just don't see why certain things should be so high when you can find something quite equal, possibly greater, if you look around. Having Urban Outfitters (though I do like some of their things) throw together your home and wardrobe, isn't creative. So, bah. Bah, I say. Anyway, the lamp. The lamp I might buy later, after I get a job and a few paychecks...even then, we'll see. I love that lamp. If I described it to you, you'd think it sounded cheesy. Let's just say it was all iron scroll and deep red glass. The bulbs were encased in the glass, so I'm sure it would illuminate with a lovely scarlet hue. I don't have many super-nice things like that, and I'm wanting to make this home mine. Not a product of my struggle with my former roommate and her attachment to dorm-life ways. I want a little class, a little color, a little style...a little me, dammit. I also want to minimize more, if I can. Though I did pare down my collection of "stuff" quite a bit before I left. Anyway, that place was expensive. I'm not sure I could ever pay $1,200 for a couch. Dood, I have a cat. It just can't happen. Besides, get a nice 2nd hand couch, and fucking re-upholster it...use some imagination, beeotch. Having said that, there is something to be said for quality. I'll fizzork ova some cheese fo' quizzality.
Having said that, I almost bought a shirt that said "Honky" on it. Because dood, that is too funny. If it had said, "Cracka" on it, I would have.
I'm reading The Cheese Monkeys by Chip Kidd. It's pretty groovy. I give him extra props for a fucking splendid jacket and book package design. One would think with a slightly gimmicky design such as that book has, the content might be lacking. Not the case. S'good book.
An example:
"Majoring in Art at the state university appealed to me because I have always hated Art, and I have a hunch if any school would treat the subject with the proper disdain, it would be one that was run by the government. Of course, I was right. My suspicions were confirmed the minute I entered the Visual Arts building on arrival my freshmen year and took in the faculty show in its gallery. I beheld: melting lop-sided Umbrian? hillsides, nudes run over by the Cubist Express, suburban-surrealist flower ladies going about their daily tasks weeping blood tears the size of water balloons, and kittens. Yes, kittens. I thought, "Now these people hate Art a lot. This is where I belong. Perfect."
:D
I can't sit in this chair very long, because apparently my back is aging more rapidly than the rest of me. I've the beginning of a story I scribbled down earlier, perhaps I'll lay down and write...or fall asleep, whichever comes first.
*miss*
Driving home today in the fucking freezing weather, ice forming a blanket on my car and the road, was fun. I almost spun-out twice. Heheh, I should have left Lawrence before I did. Had to pull over and get the ice off the car before getting home. Sweet. The interview went well. Tomorrow I send the "follow-up, thank you for your time, suck up card" because I really want this job. Because I really want my own place. Because I need my own space.
I'm consumed with thoughts of decorating my OWN home, consumed with thoughts of not having to be considerate and dancing around nearly naked. I met Elaine and Miranda in Lawrence today, before and after my interview. We did a little walk and shop down Mass. I was proud of myself. I didn't spend that much at all and I held back on the one expensive item I really wanted. It was a lamp, for $110. Seems pretty pricey for a lamp, methinks. But as Elaine informed me after I bitched about the price of a t-shirt in Urban Outfitters, I'm apparently cheap. ;) No, I just don't see why certain things should be so high when you can find something quite equal, possibly greater, if you look around. Having Urban Outfitters (though I do like some of their things) throw together your home and wardrobe, isn't creative. So, bah. Bah, I say. Anyway, the lamp. The lamp I might buy later, after I get a job and a few paychecks...even then, we'll see. I love that lamp. If I described it to you, you'd think it sounded cheesy. Let's just say it was all iron scroll and deep red glass. The bulbs were encased in the glass, so I'm sure it would illuminate with a lovely scarlet hue. I don't have many super-nice things like that, and I'm wanting to make this home mine. Not a product of my struggle with my former roommate and her attachment to dorm-life ways. I want a little class, a little color, a little style...a little me, dammit. I also want to minimize more, if I can. Though I did pare down my collection of "stuff" quite a bit before I left. Anyway, that place was expensive. I'm not sure I could ever pay $1,200 for a couch. Dood, I have a cat. It just can't happen. Besides, get a nice 2nd hand couch, and fucking re-upholster it...use some imagination, beeotch. Having said that, there is something to be said for quality. I'll fizzork ova some cheese fo' quizzality.
Having said that, I almost bought a shirt that said "Honky" on it. Because dood, that is too funny. If it had said, "Cracka" on it, I would have.
I'm reading The Cheese Monkeys by Chip Kidd. It's pretty groovy. I give him extra props for a fucking splendid jacket and book package design. One would think with a slightly gimmicky design such as that book has, the content might be lacking. Not the case. S'good book.
An example:
"Majoring in Art at the state university appealed to me because I have always hated Art, and I have a hunch if any school would treat the subject with the proper disdain, it would be one that was run by the government. Of course, I was right. My suspicions were confirmed the minute I entered the Visual Arts building on arrival my freshmen year and took in the faculty show in its gallery. I beheld: melting lop-sided Umbrian? hillsides, nudes run over by the Cubist Express, suburban-surrealist flower ladies going about their daily tasks weeping blood tears the size of water balloons, and kittens. Yes, kittens. I thought, "Now these people hate Art a lot. This is where I belong. Perfect."
:D
I can't sit in this chair very long, because apparently my back is aging more rapidly than the rest of me. I've the beginning of a story I scribbled down earlier, perhaps I'll lay down and write...or fall asleep, whichever comes first.
*miss*
