Monday, September 20, 2004
I've noticed that I'm writing an awful lot of blogs lately. I think this is due in part to the fact that you can only check the same websites so many times before any chance of them updating is, by the old Watched-Pot-Refusing-to-Boil Law, nullified entirely. I'm sure that my increasing need to do something vaguely school-like while not actually being school work does not factor in at all. For instance, there is absolutely no need for me to be studying chordate anatomy right now.
This recent abundance of blogs might also be partly due to the fact that it's something one can do late at night, when it's far too late to actually draw anything good. I've found, under many trying circumstances (the aborted attempt at 24 hour comic day included), that I cannot actually draw anything past a certain hour. Nerves may be firing like mad in my brain, but their little myelinated sheaths just aren't getting the message to my hands, and bad things happen, like wibbly little hands and massive wobbly heads.
Writing you can do any old time! Mind, the writing might not be quite as good or coherent as it normally is, but I figure that even something I write in here at 4 am when I haven't slept in two days will be easier to read than something written by an AOL kid (OMG teh othr day lizzy was like asking me if i liked tom an i wsa like plz! he is 2 hott 4 wurdz!!!!11! an then she sed she waz datin him an god shes such a bitch sumtimes!!!! k bye livejournal, luvvies!!!).
Fun game for everyone to play! Go through the past entries here since I got to school and, without looking at the times, try to guess which ones were written late at night and which ones were written when I was more-or-less awake.
Of course, this could also all be due to the disturbingly large number of weird and surreal things that have been happening since I got to school. Swampscott is, to put it mildly, quiet over the summer. Yes, people have 'wicked crazy' parties where (surprise surprise!) people get drunk and/or high. ex: OMG! tommy tottally hookd ^ w/ like 5 girlz last night, but it waz ok becuz they were all marblehead ho's. dude there waz like beer pong for 4 hrs & then we like playd cards and smoked up sumthin wikkid an janie tottally told us all she luved us and had teh hotts 4 mikey, we hadda like pry her of him @ the end of teh nite an o man her 'rents r gonna kill her! so funny. has ne1 seen my like baby blu tank i was sure i had it last nite but mebbe not?? if u find it tottally gimme a ring on my nextel!!! k bye livejournal, luvvies!!!1!
Point being, that sort of thing might be good for a couple of entries, if that. But such material does not a thrilling blog make. And there are only so many entries of "So tonight I stayed in and drew some comic book characters, it was a lot of fun, oh and we got ice cream and drove around for a while" that one can take. So, a lack of entries over the summer.
But now... well. Sports, for one thing. With my own TV I can watch anything I want, whenever I want. And apparently I want to watch ESPN. I think it's because I can have sports on and do something else, like study bio (*guilty pause*), at the same time. But if I have an actual show on, I can't do it. Do not ask me why, I haven't a clue. So I watch a lot of sports, and gleefully report them herein.
And, to get back to the point from a couple of paragraphs ago that I completely disregarded and lost in the tangent-ness, a lot of surreal things have been happening here lately. Witness the deer, the walrus (and subsequent tackling) incident, the sheer number of comments I've gotten about the stuff hung up on my door. This last has reached alarming levels. I mean, it's gotten to the point where every day someone pokes their head in to either inquire about the Joey Harrington picture, ask belligerently why the hell I like the Patriots (oddly, no one ever complains about the Red Sox), or yell something like 'Go Kerry!' (it's hanging up on my wall, but you can see it when my door's open). Just today I had a kid (another one of those 'I know he lives on my hall but goddamn I forget his name' folks) hail me as I was walking down the hall and say, "Hey, I really like the Lions fight song on your board. It makes me happy." Er. Yeah. I wrote the Lions fight song on my message board after yesterday's win. Um.
Anyways, today I dragged my half-asleep carcass up to North Campus at 8 in the am for drawing. The bus got in around 8:15, so I had time to get coffee at Pierpont Commons. Beautiful, beautiful caffeine. Grasping my cup o' liquid joy in one hand and my oversized portfolio in the other, I staggered across the street to the Arts and Architecture building. And stopped. And maybe stared a little. Yes, upon reflection, I think there definetly was some staring.
You see, standing in front of the door to the art building was a rabbit. A giant rabbit. A giant, pink, grinning rabbit, standing next to a basket that said 'GIVE TO FRIENDS!' on it. Cue frantic gulping of the coffee. I am awake, right? I am awake? Yes? This isn't just some weird, twisted, Donnie Darko-esque hallucination?
After about a minute, during which time the rabbit did not disappear, I tentatively made my way to the door. The bunny, with it's huge, unnatural smile, accosted me halfway there. It thrust out a hand, aggressively. Clutched within its bright pink paw was a kiddie-sized Baby Ruth Bar. I stared some more. And then I spoke.
"Um. Good morning."
The rabbit gave a short bow in acknowledgement, pressed the candy into my already over-full hands, and capered off to accost Jeff, who had just crossed the street and was staring at rabbit with an expression that seemed oddly familiar. I turned around, shook my head violently, and managed to open the door with my feet. Then I went up to drawing and finished my coffee.
No one knew what the rabbit was for. Although we conjectured that it had something to do with someone's CFC class, because if there's something inexplicable but vaguely performace artsy going on around the art school, you can usually blame CFC with impunity. But then again, isn't it a bit early in the year for big CFC projects to already be due?
Oh, and an open note to the kid on my floor who plays the fiddle. You probably do not read this, but just in case. I am certain there is a way to dampen the sound of your fiddle, or to somehow more thoroughly soundproof your room. Perhaps you could find out and invest in such measures, because IF YOU EVER FEEL THE NEED TO START FIDDLING AT MIDNIGHT AND KEEP ON FIDDLING LOUDLY AND BADLY UNTIL THE WEE HOURS OF THE MORNING AGAIN I WILL FIND OUT WHICH ROOM YOU LIVE IN AND I WILL EVISCERATE YOU WITH YOUR OWN DAMN FIDDLE HAVE NO DOUBT OF MY WRATH yes thank you, that's all.