Study center of the hour

Fisher Fine Arts Library, second floor with the carrels. Because it is warm, private, and mildly terrifying.

I am going to sleep

because I have spent the better part of the last three hours reading disturbing childrens books online and trying not to stare at the glorious plumbers crack of the guy sitting in front of me.

I need something with which to bop myself over the head until I become an efficient automaton of programming perfection.

Also, say hello to Mr. Alien Fish Man.

Note how his absence of junk does not prevent him from being damn sexy.

You better thank me

because every good show needs a cast of extras.

Also, here is a hamster.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

One day

I will look back at my college years and ask myself what I did with all that time that I did not spend getting something out of it.

lalalalalalala

today is one of those days where i will post a picture of a puppy



aaand that is that.

My poor alien

Scott’s only words to me after working for over an hour with everybody else: “Your alien is handsome, but he has no genitals.”

A week left before our final crit, my project is nowhere near completion and has in fact not progressed at all for weeks, and apparently his greatest concern is my model’s lack of equipment.

My mark in history

I was walking down the hallway in the art building when I noticed something eerily familiar in the Drawing 1 displays. It was my unfinished clay figure. Sometime during the several months I had left it neglected in the drawing room, someone decided to make it part of a still life. And it has now been immortalized in the charcoal drawings of numerous Drawing 1 students.

My life finally has meaning.

Bum bum

What happens when this weekend is over and I no longer have anything to look forward to.

Awkward

I was in the law library working, and in a state of agitation started mindlessly slapping my thighs. I went on for a while before I realized it was the only sound in the room.

Okay that was not nearly enough

Cute fat things cute fat things cute fat things cute fat things cute FAT THINGS

Lots and lots of fat cute things

Cute fat things cute fat things cute fat things cute fat things

New Years Resolutions

So I was poking through some old stuff that I never posted and found a list of New Years Resolutions. I thought I should put it up, only because of how spectacularly I have failed to comply with even a single one.

This year I will publicly declare my resolutions, which I hope will result in greater pressure to actually carry them out. I have always made resolutions, but that was mostly out of social obligation than an actual intention to comply. But I have spent time developing the following 10 goals, and I will spend time trying to reach them. So here goes (in no particular order):

1. Eat healthy. If I were to meet an untimely end, I want my organs to be in full working order for whoever inherits them.

2. Manage time. This time I actually WILL try to do this. I will make a schedule for every day that I will follow to the letter. Once the habit has been established, it will be no big deal to perpetuate it. (Its okay, I laughed too.)

3. Manage spending. I took a look at my previously filled-to-the-brim bank account and realized that it is nearly empty. A very, very scary realization. I need to spend less on food.

4. Manage my appearance. I don't mean my face, because there really is nothing I can do about that. Or the rest of me, because I'm not fat and don't have time to "sculpt" at the gym. What I can do is look clean and well-put-together. I need to be less lazy about my hair, find clothes that will hide my flaws, and fix my posture. All this will not make up for plain old genetics, but at least I can look respectable.

5. Stop living in my head. Most of my life is spent in my head. I have entire conversations with imaginary mind-people. I don't want the bulk of my life to be stored somewhere that will die when I die. I should keep a journal or talk more, or just think less. Most of what is swimming around up there is useless and takes up valuable, scarce brainpower.

6. Listen better. I need to listen better and respond appropriately. When people talk to me, I need to give them my full attention and figure out what they mean and how they feel.

Also, I promised 10 but stopped at 6. Not a good sign already.

Yay for more art

For my final project in figure modeling, I was trying to decide between modeling a smolderingly hot male model or an alien. Finally settled on smolderingly hot male alien.



Projected final render.

Yah baby. You know you want it.

P.S.

Dear Blog,

Please refrain from containing posts that I am likely to share in person as well. Every conversation I have had recently seems to have ended awkwardly and abruptly with, “I know, I read that in your blog.”

Yum

I mourn the loss of 50% of my strawberry cheese pastry due to its incessant flakiness. That portion is now scattered about the carpet of the law library in delicious but inedible clumps.

Also, the guy sitting across from me is watching me eat.

Well

Hm.

So here is a picture of a bunny sticking its tongue out at a porcupine.

I am in love with

Gael Garcia Bernal.

Art cont.

Disappointed to find that after several hours decaying in the art building, my lotion starts smelling like mothballs. So now I smell like Stale Indian and Mothballs. Starting to realize that maybe my skipping morning classes may be in the best interest of everyone involved.

Art building antics

Went to the bathroom to take a break and practice dance in front of the mirror. Got caught in the middle of a fast New Yorker. Quickly recomposed myself and walked out nonchalantly. Returned to my computer to find that I had left open the browser window full of shirtless "Manolo Men" I had been using as figure references. Person next to me is staring at the screen. She shoots me a suspicious look. Quickly switch over to the Maya window, only to find that I had last been working on a zoomed-up, digital butt. Smoothed.

It's going to be a long night.

Dance Dance Dance

I am on a dance high after the show. This is bad for productivity, but good for... my calf muscles, I guess. And my hygiene--my mom recently presented me with a gift bag of various self-cleaning supplies (a hint? perhaps). I still smell like Butterfly Flower, which--while I am not exactly sure what that is--is infinitely better than Stale Indian.

Also, the fishbowl-couch area of downstairs Van Pelt is excellent for people watching. I have spent the last hour or so staring creepily outside the window at the hoards of sleepy students/professors/Asian tourists shuffling by. Good to know I am not the only one who mutters visibly to myself when I think no one is looking.



(Whoops, I accidentally posted this on the officers blog at first. It was bound to happen eventually.)