11.28.2005

What I did on my Thanksgiving vacation

Hey you guys. Did you have fun Thanksgivings? I did, thanks. I had my final critique last Tuesday, went out for beers Tuesday night, then drove the four hours to my dad’s house on Wednesday. It was the Maiden Highway Voyage for my car, which was fun. I had brought a whole bunch of tapes to listen to, but surprisingly the radio was okay the entire way there and I never even used them. Even in the middle of the state, where the ratio of country and/or Christmas stations to rock stations was like 95:5, there was still enough cheesy classic rock going on to keep me awake.

Once in SmallTowne, GA, USA, I spent about an hour bitching about school to my dad and stepmom, which was fun. I had a lot to say after having spent four hours not speaking at all.

Somehow my stepbrother, who is two years older than me and the nicest, sweetest redneck you could ever hope to meet (and I mean that in the kindest way possible), convinced me to come out with him that night. I usually beg out of his raging dive-bar outings but for some reason I had some energy left after finals week so I went to the local divey redneck bar, which is located in a strip mall, which I feel proves my point. His friends’ 80s cover band was playing so I was sort of excited.

And it was totally the most fun night ever. It was very odd being out and drinking with his friends who he’d been bringing around the house since I was, like, twelve. I think none of us had realized just how old we all were, and how many years we’d been seeing each other for. His one friend had gotten CRAZY HOT. Holy crap. He had a lip ring. It intrigued me.

It’s a very odd feeling to flirt with your (step)brother’s good friend.

We drank beers and rocked out to the ridiculous 80s songs. They were a very good cover band; they did the whole gamut of fun songs from childhood. We closed the bar down (3am, in a small town! Who knew?) and, hilariously, once everyone got ushered outside I discovered that there were a few cop cars just waiting outside in the parking lot - I guess to break up possible fights. I was like, this is too much. It is just too trashy. Speaking of trashy? Then we went to Waffle House. Ah, fried potatoes.

The next day I played golf with my dad. Well, on the driving range. It was Thanksgiving and the clubhouse was closed, and neither of us wanted to lug the clubs around the course. It was a gorgeous day down here in Georgia. I am not used to 70 degree Thanksgivingses.

Later we ate. (Duh.) There was chocolate pecan pie. If it were socially acceptable, I would have snuck some home under my shirt, it was that good.

So now I am back in Savannah and I seriously have FIVE WEEKS off until next term. I am going to spend it working a lot, both in the job/money-making sense and the painting-studio sense. Also I am going to lounge around in coffee shops, because I am burned out. How are you all doing?

supine @ 10.04 pm |

11.23.2005

I’m off, completely

I am off to spend my first Thanksgiving ever at my dad’s house. Have a great Thanksgiving and I’ll be back Friday!

supine @ 10.11 am |

11.18.2005

Time for Thanksgiving!

Hm, that week sort of got away from me a little bit. Finals, you know. Tuesday is my last day of classes until after New Years’, can you believe it? It is like the longest break ever. (Cannot wait.) Apparently it makes up for the fact that between the winter and spring quarters we have about a week off, which translates into six straight months of class, the last third during which everyone has turned into a zombie and wants to eat their own head just to make the workload stop. Lookin’ forward to that!

Other than school, which is hard and annoying, I guess I’ve just been working my two jobs. Did I ever explain the part where I got a second job? I believe not, so let me do that now. So, you know I was working as a hoecake-giver-outer at that restaurant downtown. They have a waiting list to become a server or bartender, and depending on the turnover of the serving staff you have to be doing one of the lower-level jobs for at least a few moths, sometimes a year. So I am on the list and waiting for that, because once I become a server I will make tons o’ dough.

However about a month ago I looked at my financial affairs and decided that, until that day arrives, I can’t live on just my hourly wage working 3-4 shifts a week, and school is so intensive that I can’t work more than 3-4 shifts a week. So I had to find a serving job to supplement that one. Soooo, I lucked out and found the perfect one - at a chichi little wine and tapas bar, where I only work every Friday night (which happens to be their biggest night) and make enough tips that it totally helps me out, bills-wise.

Now I work 2 shifts a week at the first restaurant, just to keep my foot in the door, and every Friday night at the wine bar. It is fine, and I still have Thursdays and/or Saturdays to go out with friends, if I am so inclined. Which I, you know, am.

So what are you guys up to this weekend? I will be finishing up three paintings, studying for an art history exam, and reworking a paper. I am so ready to bid this term ADIEU, I cannot even tell you. Have a good day!

supine @ 12.05 pm |

11.13.2005

Lush

Oof. I went out drinking last night after our open studio night and officially got the drunkest I have ever been in my life. I know I have said that about other nights before, but this time it is official. It was a very weird drunk in which I stopped drinking at one point, and just felt mildly buzzed, but then about a half hour later it all hit me and I became Very Very Drunk. Like, slurry drunk. Very embarassing.

I would like to thank whoever it was who gave me a ride home! Just kidding, I know who it was. (Or do I? Har har.)

When I woke up this morning, I saw that the entire inside of my purse was caked in face powder. Apparently at one point I dropped my compact, then forgot to close it, and just threw it back into my purse. Nice. Another crazy thing I did was to show up at the door of this club with only $1 in my wallet, get informed by the bouncer that it was a $5 cover, and then make a sufficiently sad (coy? flirty? I don’t remember) face to be told that I could just go on in. That kind of thing never happens to me!

Also when I woke up, my pajamas were on all backwards and inside out, and I had somehow taken my contacts out (yikes!) but not put one of them into the case. I found it, all dried out and crinkly, stuck to the ledge on the bathroom sink.

Today was the first time in my entire life that I have thrown up from drinking too much. It used to be my claim to fame that I never had. Now I have no claim to fame. However, I’m no longer sad about my stupid review. Now I’m just angry. I think angry is a much better place to be. You can paint angry.

supine @ 7.04 pm |

11.11.2005

I am lacking in technical skillz

Holy shit, I failed my review. I FAILED MY REVIEW. After working harder for the last five months than I’ve ever had to work at anything, I am still “not improved enough for graduate work.” Holy crap. This sucks. I have to retake it next term, and this sucks.

And I mean, I crashed and burned. Listen to some of the direct quotes from my feedback:

“significant problems with both formal technical skills and development with personal subject matter”

“level of painting skill demonstrated is below average level”

“the works seem arbitrary and easily made”

GAH. Gahhhhhhhhhh. Fuck fuck fuck.

And I’ve gotten As and Bs on all my paintings so far, so I’m just very confused. How do you get an A on a realist painting and then get told that your “level of painting skill” is sub-par?

And to think, just yesterday I was all upset about SuperFriend. Now I have something else to be overwrought about. Is that good or bad? Whatever it is, it’s been a really freaking hard year. I have cried so much this year. Is this what age 26 is about? A weird, transitional, growth phase? I need a hug.

The one semi-okay thing about it is that I found out this afternoon (after I had cried to, like, seven different people about it) that out of the seven of us who took the review, they only passed two. And one of those two had failed it the first time. This is hardcore.

I am off to my wine bar job in an hour. At least I can have a drink. Better living through alcohol.

supine @ 2.42 pm |

11.8.2005

I shaved my legs for this?

Although I hate to admit it, I do sort of have a feeling that he’s back with his ex-girlfriend. What’s annoying is that he spent all this time telling me about how she was never particularly nice to him and always “took him for granted,” and would flake out on plans and just didn’t seem to be all that interested unless she needed a favor from him, and it’s like he’s just turning around and putting all that shit on me (good call Dave!).

Arghsgihrph. I am so tired of dating! I just want to be a nun. Convent life seems stimulating. Well, in some ways.

I am still waiting to hear back about whether I passed my review and can continue on with the program. I’ve heard that it can take two weeks to hear, and it’s been…half a week, so I guess I have some time to kill. Yesterday I saw the professor who is the head of my committee down the hall, and I am such an anti-social freak that I ducked into a nearby classroom before he saw me, because I was so scared that he would pass me and just come right out and TELL me that I failed. Or worse, that he’s pass by me and not be able to make eye contact. That would suck.

One cool thing is that this Saturday is the bi-annual Open Studio Night, where all the grad painting studios are open for this big exhibition, and local collectors and dealers come and see everyone’s stuff and you hopefully get interest or make sales. Since I just started I don’t have too much stuff to put up, so it’s sort of nice to be able to ease into all this and not be too stressed that this weekend is, like, my big debut into the scene or anything.

I think maybe I will ask him if he’s back with his ex-girlfriend. I can be smooth about it. That way it might also segue into a general “why are you acting differently lately” type of thing and I can stop tweaking out and imagining all these horrible things. Have a good day, guys.

supine @ 9.02 am |

11.6.2005

Dog/Boy

I just got home from taking the dog for a long walk in the park. It is beautiful out! Cannot belive it is November somethingth and we are all still in jeans and t-shirts. I mean, I’m okay with cold weather too (I like it better than hot), but I admit it’s going to be much easier to take a two-month long, mild winter than the wind-whipping-down-the-streets-tearing-your-face off winter of DC.

The whole dog-walking thing is so funny. It’s like a little neighborhood association or clique. When I FIRST got to Savannah, like on my second day, I remember I took my brand new ipod for a walk in the park, and I sat in the middle where the shade and the huge gothic fountain are and just people-watched for a while. And it was then that I realized that I was still not very cutting-edge, as the Must Have accessory in town is not an ipod, like I thought, but a dog. EVERYONE has a dog here. Oh my god, you, like, have to have a dog.

Our particular dog is very funny because she’s really disinterested in meeting/sniffing other dogs. She’s not one of those dogs that, when she sees another, starts going all apeshit and pulling on the leash and you have to jerk her back all “Lily, HEEL.” She’s more content to just go on sniffing at the dirt and roots and acorns and stuff while other dogs swarm around her and put their snouts in her butt. (Sorry.)

But it is definitely funny when you encounter other dogs and owners while walking - you have to sort of greet each other, and then you both admire your respective dogs sniffing each other, and then you ooh and aah and compliment something, anything, about the other dog. Then you do that awkward little shrug/smile and wish each other a good day or a good walk or a “take care.” Repeat that every two minutes or so.

On another note, my Awesome Super Hot SuperFriend is really pissing me off lately. I feel like ever since we had our big talk in which I told him I liked him liked him and he said he did too but the timing wasn’t right yet (hopefully yet), he’s just been fucking with my head. It’s like he has Multiple Personality Disorder or something. Like on Halloween, we had this huge talk during the day at the studio, and then went for pizza, and then that night he called to see when I was going to the big party. He said he’d see me there and we agreed (or at least I thought we had) that we’d move on to a bar at a certain approximate time.

Then I was getting ready and he just showed up at the door. With champagne! It was amazing. And he hung out while I got ready and put my makeup on. He even put my fake eyelashes on me, making me lie down on the bed while he pretty much straddled me. It was fun.

My friend N came over, as planned, and they know each other so it was really fun, we just hung out for a bit and drank and all got ready together. He was being really sweet and boyfriend-y. Then we all went to the party and did party stuff. My friend N had a costume that involved me having to zip her up in the bathroom, so we’d be in there for a while together each time. At one point in the night, I realized I hadn’t seen him in a while and I asked someone about it, and it was then that I learned he’d left. A while ago. Um, what?

So I called his cell phone and said, “Hey, it’s me. Did you leave? That’s…weird. Call me when you can.” And he just never called, not that night or the whole next day. The next evening I saw him in the studio and I was sort of frosty and he was like, “Oh, I looked for you guys to say goodbye. I couldn’t find you.” I was so flabbergasted at how, like, different the night had ended than how it had began that I did not even have the presence of mind to point out that I had thought we were out for the night together. All I could say was, “Well, there were two rooms at the party, so I must’ve been in the bathroom with N.” And he was just like, oh okay. And then we started talking about something else.

And then things were great for days; we’d have long talks and he’d be very flirty and touchy and complimentary. And then on Thursday when I asked him over to watch Clue and he said he’d “probably be lame company,” I left his studio and was just like, “Well if you change your mind after class and want to come, call.” And, like I said, he didn’t call, so I got drunk. (Coping with life with wine, table for one.)

The next day, he came up to me and was all, “Hey, was the dinner good? I thought you were gonna call. I was just sort of sitting around all night.” And I was all “Pdhldh;rth? I told YOU to call if you wanted to come,” and he said he thought it had been the other way around, and then I told him he was an idiot, and if he had been sitting around with nothing to do he should have just called me.

I don’t know. It all just seems very shifty to me. I’m getting really sick of him being super-cute and sweet to me at the studio but then never trying to actually hang out outside of school. I wouldn’t care except that we went through that period, only a few weeks ago, in which we hung out ALL THE TIME, like every other day, and he was really calling and pursuing and always trying to make plans for the next time. Suddenly that has changed and I feel like I’m pursuing him and I don’t like this shift in power at all.

I feel desparate and clingy and like I’m waaay too caught up in how he’s treating me, and whether he’s made more-than-friends overtures that day, and blah blah blah. I feel like I am just always nice to him, but he’s veering between being nice and being sketchy and cold, and it’s just messing with me. I’m really upset. It’s, like, all I can think about. I feel like I’ve lost one of my closest friends.

God, making out is stupid. Let this be a lesson to you! Never make out with anyone again! It just messes everything up.

supine @ 12.50 pm |

11.3.2005

I still love that Mrs. White

(Flames! On the side of my face!)

Ugh, I feel ill. I had a bunch of deadlines this week - a critique yesterday, a presentation to give today, and all my slides and statements for my first program review due today. Everything went fine. I had been dreading the presentation; I hate speaking to more than, like, three people at once. I considered it successful, because I did not stutter or fall down or emit any weird squeaking noises like I sometimes do when I have to speak publicly. (My voice cracks when I’m nervous, like I’m Eddie Haskell or something.)

So then, in honor of being done with all that crap and being able to slack off for a bit now, I decided to make a huge batch of my infamous Chicken Salad™ tonight and watch Clue. I wanted my SuperFriend to come over and join me, but he said he was in a bad mood from his coffee shop job going badly and wouldn’t be good company. (Aw, he’s moody, just like me.) So I was alone with my cooking and my Clue.

Except…there was also wine involved. I had two glasses of wine and then I got hungry again, so I ate again. Then I drank a wine cooler. Then I think I ate enough Cheez-Its to qualify as Meal 3. AND THEN, the movie ended and the little ending credits song played - you know, Shake, Rattle, and Roll - and I was drunk enough at that point that I got up and danced to it. To the whole thing. I mean, I was twisting away, alone, with the dog watching. Then I collapsed on the couch and felt like ralphing, because Tons O’ Food + Tons O’ Liquor + Twisting = BARF.

supine @ 1.07 am |
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