I’ve been spending a lot of time reading, writing and taking notes on expressive body language for my thesis. Yesterday my typing skills were a bit… off. I was at my special place, sitting with a stack of books and wrote this about hands:

“they are raised menacingly‚Ķ they can wave exuberantly;

they clench into a fish‚Ķ”

It’s important to amuse oneself in times like these. “Times like these” being THESIS TIME.

Stairs to the Clouds

Child: “I want my hat.”
Father: “You want your hat?”
Child: “It’s windy.”
Father: “It’s windy? I think you have it confused with another day.”

It’s Ray from Girls!

Saw this in an email from MUG this morning.

Alex Karpovsk’s film “Red Flag” is about a filmmaker who ends up kind of lost and in somewhat of a downward spiral. I had to laugh at the bit when his friend says “I love her and I want someone to discover my body relatively early after I die. I think River could be that person.” Dark, but, there’s a little bit of truth in that, no?

The Drawing Twins

I’ve not taken a math class since 2003. When I was a senior in high school I was in what they called “Academic” Pre-Calculus. It was me and a bunch of juniors. My math teacher had crazy psoriasis. I don’t remember a damn thing, except for the texture of that TI-83 Plus calculator we had to use.

One of my main reasons for applying to graduate school for communications design is that I didn’t have to take the GRE or any other standardized test to get in. My main reason for going to art school for undergraduate was that no one seemed to care that I did shitty on my SATs. The real Hallelujah moment came after being accepted and I found out I DIDN’T EVER HAVE TO TAKE A MATH CLASS. EVER. AGAIN.

Now, imagine me, a full grown woman, who just had to use a calculator to figure out if 56 is divisible by 4. 1) It is! 2) Omg, my brain cells are dying.

I would feel bad about this, but I once asked an ex-boyfriend, who crunched numbers all day for a living, “hey, how do you find the percentage of a number?” and then he gave me the wrong formula.

Uh huh…

Still, really? 56 divided by 4? I couldn’t figure that out? It might be time to go back to my division and multiplication tables.

[[This photo is from circa 2002. My cousin (L) is now as old as I (R) was when this was taken. Holy shit.]]

I’ve made it back to Connecticut.

Last weekend I was here, and made an obligatory trip to TJ Maxx with my mom. I threw down a pile of unfolded clothes at check out, and the cashier asked “now, is your dorm room this messy?”

I know people like to joke with me and say “you look like you’re 12!” But, sometimes I think these are not jokes. If I prayed, I would pray every night that I will get carded at least until I’m 35. Instead of praying, I’ve stated applying eye cream religiously.

I want to remain this youthful forever:


I was probably 8 or so. I know the goat is distracting you from my enormous first pair of glasses. My mom’s a hoarder so I am pretty sure she has those babies stashed away behind the door in her home office. I will look for them later, and hopefully I will find them and see if they still have the magical effect of making my head look smaller than the melon it is in actuality.