[

mood

|

blah

]

For the record:

This blog (losesomething, the one I'm writing in right now) is for whimsy and randomness. For example links, videos, pictures and the such.

My other blog, affective, is for a running observation of my life (or at least that’s what I’m aiming for)

[

mood

|

curious

]

It can be viewed here.

In the video I beg people for their stories about their made-up languages.

If you have any words or stories about words you made up PLEASE leave a video response, comment or comment here. I need thirty responses of some sort by Monday!

[

mood

|

anxious

]

So I have my surgery scheduled for next Monday. On Friday they will call me and tell me exactly when the surgery is.

My surgeon told me I should be out of commission for up to a week, but Health Services won’t release an excused absence because they don’t find the surgery urgent enough. I was told when I was in the hospital that I should have this done within a month. Plus, I have been missing classes due to gallstone attacks. In all common sense, I should get the surgery now.

But they’re being difficult. And my surgeon is being difficult to reach. I just want a note from him telling the school that this is medically necessary.

So I can’t really afford to miss any classes except Research Studio for one night, which is what I’ll probably miss because it’s on Monday. I talked to my teacher, Paul, and he said he’s not worried about my missing class because I’ve been working my butt off and he’s pretty happy with how I’m doing. That was good to hear.

My other classes? I’ve had too many absences. I’m registering for an incomplete in Core Studio. I won’t have to take it again as long as I make up the work over break. And the rest, like I said, I just can’t afford to miss.

Here’s hoping that I feel up to going to those classes. (If you have a shot by you, lift your glass and drink now ;) )

I’m pretty excited about tonight’s class. We all miserably failed the last assignment, so this assignment is pretty much just to try again. I didn’t actually find out if I failed last time because I was so distracted that I forgot to bring my drawings. Buuuut, I’m pretty sure that I did anyway so, three more drawings! This time I’m drawing 30 potatoes and giving them all different names. Also, I’m going to do something with potato salad, and I haven’t figured out the last one yet. I’m pretty upset actually, because I had a great idea for the third one but I didn’t write it down so now I’ve forgotten. Boo hoo.

[

mood

|

excited

]

I just got back from the hospital. Turns out I have gallstones and my gallbladder needs to come out. No emergency, but no fun either.

I woke up this morning in much pain and was throwing up soon after. I estimated a fever but didn't actually have a thermometer. Went to health services, who took me to the doctor, who sent me to the hospital.

This is what I get for going off my diet and eating Wendy's.

The funny part was when I thought it was just hunger pangs. I haven't been eating much for the past couple days. After throwing up I found myself literally shoving a piece of bread down my throat, desperately trying to remedy the situation. One of my more pathetic moments, and therefore utterly hilarious.


I had a really good critique and a really good midterm evaluation for the same class recently. The best part was that it came as a complete surprise. I thought my teacher hated me and everything that I do. He told me that I decisions were "sophisticated" and my input was "thoughtful". I'm pretty excited about this.

[

mood

|

blah

]

Three things have happened that are getting me down.

In the order of events:
1. My hallucinations came back.
2. I found out that my grandmother has lung cancer.
3. My roommate wants me to move out because I'm "bringing her down"

The thing that gets me down the most is, of course, the news about my poor grandmother. It came on very suddenly. She said that lately she has been feeling very tired and went to the doctor. He told her that she had cancer and that was that. She hadn't been feeling sick for very long at all and now she's very sick. All of a sudden it's doctor's visits and tests and everything.

I regret that I didn't really have a reaction when my mother told me. I just sort of sat there in shock. I didn't know what to say. "I'll tell her that you love her," she told me.


The thing that is most dramatic? The situation with my roommate. I like my roommate and apparently she likes me. We get along-- I'm pretty comfortable with our living situation. But she's this kind of person that feeds off of human emotion. She needs to be surrounded with friends that she can rely on all the time. I have this sort of flat, not very social affect that bothers her. And it drives her crazy that she can't make me happy. So, I'm okay with it, and she's not. Yet she asked me to leave our room. There is logic behind it. She's made friends on this floor and she'd like to stay here. I'd like to stay here simply because I don't want to move all my shit and work it into a new environment, but I'm okay with doing it, and giving up on our relationship just as long as she recognizes that I'm the one making all the sacrifices in this situation. And it's all to make her happy. She sort of recognized it, but every time she'd say she understood, it was followed up by a "but." I guess that's the most I could hope for. At least she didn't say she wouldn't recognize it. If she didn't, I'd feel like she's just abusing me. And I can't make sacrifices for someone who is abusing me.

[

mood

|

amused

]

Today in Poetry class we pretended like we were Japanese Aristocrats.

We were writing communal haikus. If I understand the terminology, it started off as a hokku, one selected by a "professional" poet, just on these pieces of scrap paper. Then each person would write a two-line response haiku and pass the paper on to the person on our right, who would write a three-line response, pass, two-line response, etc.

At the end we all got back the poem to which we originally responded and read them aloud.

This is mine:

Goes out,
Comes back-
The lover of a cat.

The indecisive nature
Stretching

Comes out to the world
A child playing
A future to behold

Giraffes and dream-lands
Scattered across like rubies

On the shores of my memory
I watch the waves
Go out and come back

Recalling my older dreams
They are weak


Keep in mind that we each had seconds to surmise understanding of the previous writings and then create, so these are off of the top of the head.

I found it entertaining that my side of the room took this exercise seriously and created depressing pieces, while the other side of the room had a real laugh. One line that stuck out in my mind:

It's your baby, motherfucker!

[

mood

|

apathetic

]

I’m writing this while I’m waiting for a painting to dry.

Things have been okay so far. I’m so incredibly busy. Videos, paintings, photographs, graphics. I’m doing it all.

I haven’t produced anything I’m really proud of yet. Right now I’m working on this piece that is just… oh, it’s bad. It’s just dreadful. The original concept was to pick a story that is meaningful to us and create a piece that tells the story, so we don’t actually reveal it by mouth. I’m not going to tell the story, but I will say that in Photoshop I created a prayer card—the little cards they hand out at funerals—with selected words blurred out. The original was alright. Not really one way or the other. But the second part of the project is to change the piece in three of ten ways. The options I selected were: 1. To pick a stereotype opposite us and create the piece in that vain 2. Make it at least eight feet long in one direction 3. Recreate it in another medium. Our teacher basically told me I had to pick the third option, and that he wanted to see me use a brush. So I’m painting this text and it’s just impossible. Well, it’s not impossible. It’s just impossible in the time allotted. And the thing is, I’d like to go into critique and just say that I failed and I don’t like it and just move on, but that is a major faux pas. You’re supposed to stand up for your piece even if you think it’s crap. So, I’m going to go with the “I meant it to look like that” route. Sin of sins.

Oh god it’s bad. Haha! I’m going to art hell for this.

[

mood

|

stressed

]

I feel strange. It’s 8 days until I leave for Chicago and so much of me knows that I can’t do this, that I’m not ready. Yet, in sequence, I know that this is as ready as I’m ever going to get. I have my shot now. A piece of me has to split from the rest of me and push it off. A piece of me is strong and resilient.

The rest of me is a child thrown in the deep end without any swimmies. A child that knows the word, “shit” and is not afraid to use it.

This is crazy. I know I’m not cut out for this. I know my acceptance into this school was some horrible mistake. Just another fault in a life that seems to want to hand everything over to me without any questions.

I thought about it and realized that I’ve never truly had to work a hard day in my life. I didn’t work to get through high school, I didn’t work to get into college. I stumbled through it all, crying and complaining the whole way through. What am I good for? What do I even give a shit about?



And all these emotions are teemed with some unpleasant information. I went to the doctor for literally a list of reasons. Essentially most of it is physical grievances that he determined are most likely unpleasant side effects from my medications. But the reason I actually went was because I wanted to see someone right away about my mental state.

Lately I’ve felt more than a little lost. I’ve felt downright confused and disoriented at times. I’ve been tormented with logistical issues such as chronic déjà vu and things for which I’m not sure there are sweet little French phrases. Coincidentally, I’ve been having trouble finding words, or even finding a reason to speak at all, as either I have nothing to say or what I have to say is not of any relevance. And finally, my memory is shit.

I feel as though a piece of my brain has been removed from my head.

In short, I feel dumb.

In response to my gibbering, Dr. Pallan said, simply, that it might just be my Schizo-affective Disorder worsening.

And as much as I’ve had trouble exactly loving myself as of late, I can’t help but feel a bit panic-stricken in response to the idea that I may lose myself to a mental disorder.

[

mood

|

aggravated

]

I’m sort of confused about my relationship with Mary right now. There are two factors I find unsettling.

1. She wasn’t there for me. When I was in the hospital, she didn’t come to visit me, she didn’t call me, she didn’t send me a cheap, useless get well card… nothing. My mother tried to rally her into making any sort of effort to support me. Her excuse was that she couldn’t come because she was so busy. When she explained this to me yesterday, it came out more like “I couldn’t come because I was soooo busy!” And the sad thing is that it makes me want to believe her.

2. Lately I’ve been trying to find anyway to keep conversations moving. It hasn’t been going well, which is an entire other complaint but important to note with this problem. To prevent dead, awkward silences I’ve started talking about myself and my plans for the future. I can sense that it makes Mary feel awkward, which is okay because I feel awkward too, but the point is that I also get the impression that she just plain doesn’t want to hear about it.


Anyway.

I dyed my hair black. The only reason I was keeping it orange/blond/red was because when I spiked it up, it did this cool gradient effect. But that faded out, so I dyed it.

Picture:


I was actually trying to go for my natural color. Sorta... start fresh. But that didn't happen. Oh well.

[

mood

|

sick

]

I’m not feeling it.

I didn’t sleep last night because of a combination of wracking my brain to decide what my basic belief structure relies on and puking my brains out.

Emotionally and physically I feel like the utmost crap.

Not feeling it.

And starting to think that the emotional center of my brain sends impulses directly to my bowels.


Although, I had a pretty good night before I got sick. I saw Encounters at the End of the World, a Werner Herzog film, with my father at The Charles. It was Mensa night. My father is the Local Secretary or "President" of Maryland Mensa and every first Friday of the month a couple members get together to see a film at The Charles. So, I saw an absolutely fascinating film with absolutely fascinating people.

Afterwords we went to have a snack at The Zodiac, a joint across the street.

Spending time with the Mensans is toss-up. On the one hand, they always have something interesting to say. To be a Mensan, your IQ has to qualify at the 98th percentile. So not only are they geniuses, but they're almost always socially clueless. I can relate to that, so they're fun to be around.

On the other hand, I always feel like I embarrass myself with the stupid things I say when I'm around them.

Bah. I suppose in the end it's best to risk looking like an idiot. Get over it.

That's exactly the mentality I have to incorporate if I'm to do this mall experiment. "Get over it, Laura!" or if I want to be particularly cheesy, "You can do it!"

I only have one day left to do it- if I don't want to let Dr. Marc down. Which I don't. So... tomorrow's the day!

Oh boy.

[

mood

|

happy

]

This is what I did today:



My brother, Brendan, asked for some help with his portfolio. Brendan studied advertising at Boston University and he's currently job-hunting. The interviewers he's seen so far said they liked his ideas but the images themselves could use some help.

Enter Laura.

The image above is our collaboration-- Brendan's idea, my image.

The picture itself is a stock-image I picked out. Then I adjusted it and retouched it to my liking.

It's supposed to give the impression of being something fancy and romantic and then hit you with the "damn good chocolate" line.

I don't think it's my best but Brendan loves it! That makes me so happy.

My next project is a Wendy's ad. This should be good.

[

mood

|

lonely

]

I’ve recognized the end of the two best friendships I ever had and I’m not feeling all that great.

I’ve been trying to be more social and flourish in my friendships and instead they’re dropping like flies. I’m starting to feel like I’m just not cut out for this kind of thing.

I was telling Dr. Marc about this and he cooked up some homework for me. I have to go to the mall and talk to at least 10 random people. Not just talk, but have an actual conversation. He says I just have to get used to having conversations, then it won’t be so hard for me to interact with people and build relationships. I don’t think it’s going to quite work out like that.

I’m still going to do it. I just think I’m going to embarrass myself ten times over and go home feeling like shit. I mean, what am I supposed to say to ten random people? How am I supposed to pick out ten people? The people I usually feel like I can relate to are usually stuck-up assholes.

No, I don’t think you’re a stuck-up asshole. I mostly referring to the people I met at art school. When I went to college, I expected something more than what I witnessed in High School, but within a week, cliques were forming and it seemed impossible to break the ice with anyone.

I’m hoping it will go easier when I go back. It was obviously partially my fault for being clueless and stiff.

I’m more open to people now, but sadly that doesn’t give me a special ability to socialize. I still have to figure out what to say.

[

mood

|

chipper

]

So, I’m sitting on the back porch having a smoke, and who do I see climbing on the screen but my good pal Beau Rex Sebastian!



Say, “Hello Beau!”

Actually it looks a little too small to be Beau, but we’re just going to pretend that it is for the sake of keeping things interesting.

I grabbed my camera, thinking I might get a nice shot. Here’s a couple of attempts, but nothing worth a dime:







Usually I wouldn’t get right in a snake’s face to take pictures, but I was pretty safe behind the screen.

It would be something like irony if I got bit by a snake while my attempts to get my snakebites have been thwarted several times in the past week or so. I went to my favorite piercing parlor, Harm City, a couple times and each time it was closed, despite it being during their hours of operation. Perhaps hot piercing dude (I really should find out his name) is on vacation?