August 23, 2005

A blog before flying

I'm not even flying...just going on a mini-vacation to NYC to look at some art & shit. And also try to get stand-by tickets to Conan. And also see what all this Century 21 kerfluffle is about. I'll fill you guys in when I get back...

But, for now, since it's not a school night for me, I thought I'd leave you with something to chew on. It occured to me after last night's Laguna Beach...

What is up with white girls & extensions? Has this been going on long? Am I just an ignorant-ass thick-haired girl who's never been faced with an occasion for which I didn't have enough hair? Is Christina Aguilera to blame? Or is it the mainstreaminization of porn? Cause seriously? From the prom pictures leaked all over the web, the "new girl" Casey looks like she's heading off the the AVN awards*.

Also, after tonight's Real World, for no particular reason as I've noticed it for um, like the entire 16 season run of the show, but why can't those kids put their clothes in the fucking hamper? Or even consolidate the articles of clothing strewn about the room into, I dunno, at least a half a dozen or so piles?

I am, by no means, a neat freak. I too have problems containing my dirty laundry to the hamper. But if my shit doesn't make it in the hamper, it makes it to the vicinity of the hamper, especially if anyone other than the people I live with might see it. Like, um, eight million people a week.

I had a roommate in college who was mind-bogglingly (am making up words like a bastard this evening) messy. There was no floor on her side of the room. There was just about a foot and a half layer of clothes, books, food wrappers, dishes, and shoes in the area between her desk & bed. She seriously had to launch herself from the halfway point of the room onto either her bed or desk chair. It got to the point where, when cleaning out my pockets or a random purse I'd just chuck all my pennies over there. I hate pennies like Hench hates wet socks.

*AVN=Adult Video News. It's Like the Oscars for Porn.

August 21, 2005

Hey Leslie....

I was lookin around on craigslist and found this post that I thought you might be interested in. Here is the link:

And here is the title:


Some show that is going to be on HBO or something. I think you should do it!

August 17, 2005

Carol Ann rescues the Tivo!

A million years ago I watched a reporter describing how local search and rescue teams were attempting to pull victims from the rubble of an earthquake in some far and away country. Curiously in the background; some of the rescuers were poking at something, which if I am correct appeared to be a butt. Rather than try and extract the questionable body part one of them appeared to poke at it.

I called CA to report my findings and a series of hilarious butt rubble jokes ensued.

At any rate, when I asked CA what she would do during an earthquake, she responded - "Rescue my TiVo".

And that's how this masterpiece came to life.

August 11, 2005

I don't wanna grow up

I'm having a mid-twenties crisis. I've realized that I haven't a clue what I want to do with my life. I seriously have NO leanings in any particular direction. The only thing I've determined is that I don't want to be someone's assistant forever. Yes, I understand one must pay dues to get to the top or whatever, but I haven't the foggiest as to what profession I'd want to get to the top of.

I have a crazy laundry list of skills & interests, but none add up to any clear-cut career choice. I thought I was being slick having generic majors like English & Communications, reasoning that being able to write and talk would prepare me to do anything, but I've found they qualify me to do nothing. Maybe except teaching others to write & talk.

Why can't someone pay me to make crappy slap-dash graphic art? Oh wait....

So the other night my sister was watching CSI: Miami and I realized that the sort-of doughy wise-crackin forensic pathologist was none other than that skinny bowl-cut sportin' wise-crackin sorta bohemian Lukas from Empire Records. I don't know why this made me so sad, but I can't get over it.

I've never been very cool, admittedly, but I was certainly cooler ten years ago than I am now (crush on Eric Nies, aside). I feel like every minute that ticks away from my heady younger days, the closer I am to listening to Top 40 radio & referring to my pants as "slacks". Did Lukas aspire to end up on USA reruns with friggin' David Caruso? I read somewhere that after Empire Records he lived with Renee Zellweger for like 4 years. Now she's got an Oscar, and is married to a midget country music phenom, wearing Carolina Herrera pajamas.

Anybody else? Or am I flappin' in the wind over here?

August 9, 2005

And another

I'm working on a set of thematic illustrations of people I know.
This one may or may not be someone who told me I was "improving."
What ya think?

Totem for CA

I'm going on strike until CA writes again.
So I guess I will just post graphic illustration endeavors for next few weeks.

August 4, 2005

Art Gallery

I made this illustration in honor of one of my friends co-workers who apparently has a misbehaving parrot.
Hope you like it! And tell a certain someone to get well soon!

August 3, 2005

RC:2 Musings of the original food whore.

Musings of the original food whore.

“Even Gwen Stefani has to Poop.”

I found that article in Details magazine about 5 years ago. I tore it out and kept it with a modge podge of other random objects that conjure laughter such as: the Altoids Boy, a picture of butter from the museum of art in D.C., and the above picture of MATT, who apparently while skiing has the ability to make someone moan like a cow with his huge..umm personality.

I have a boundless amount of stories to tell of Nikki, Nicole, and Tiesha. These were my second year room-mates.

I would have to go on record saying that my sophomore year of college has to date been my favorite year of my life. I can’t remember having so much fun during a confined time. Not to say that another year won’t surpass it, but that one is the one I see in my dreams when I try to pick a way I want my life to be. During that year, everyone was genuine. Everyone was NEW.

"Man, your refrigerator is awesome, Sissy." He was of course was referring to Trooper's stash of nachos, potato chips, and various chocolate chipped cookies. These cookies were a valued addictive commodity, much like crack. They caused me at one point to admit that I was indeed visiting her just for cookies, coke, and nachos; because, as many of you know I am a foodwhore.

Trooper confirmed that her diet was indeed a diet of queens and kings by inviting Larry and the fam to her famous nacho bean dip dinner. Bean dip to normal people is an appetizer. To a college student, it is the a la carte item of a fine eloquent meal. You see bean dip if made correctly, requires the oven. Which in Leslie speak means that you are cooking.

After Tiesha drove off, and waved I felt sorta oddly forlorn about the whole situation. All of my girls were gone. All I knew was that the “girls” had broken up and even though I would try to make things like it was I knew it never could be again.

So it is without further adieu, I bring you the Room-Mate Chronicles.
The Women’s Liberation Front.

I was the last one left at the end of sophomore year. It’s a bit of a ritual for me in that I was the last person to walk out of my 3 previous residences and I always prefer it that way. You have to linger about in a place that used to be a home and question why it isn’t anymore in order to move progressively forward. With no T.V., no posters, and sigh no remaining friends, I set about on my clean-up mission of the chores assigned to me: mopping, vacuuming, and mirrors.

It was when MATT came off the wall that I wandered outside of my apartment to see signs of life from the others staying in the on-campus apartments. Powhatan during the last week of school resembles something of a ghost town during that final week. No one around anywhere, and I was staring upstairs into the windows of the elusive gentlemen of apartment G-8.

I’d had a crush on Matt from G-8 since, a random ass Frat party where I was greeted with an unexpected hug and 5 five minutes of conversation. Now, while this is not enough to build any lasting relationship from, it is the kinda stuff that feeds my delusions for months. I’m not saying I wanted to marry him or anything, but he was pleasing on the eyes. Matt would later become “Cheesy 80’s Matt” and loose his appeal after using the poor word choice “tall glass or water”, and then worsening the situation by telling someone randomly that “that girl is choice P***Y” at a party.

Matt had 3 room-mates John, Chris, and Brian. All of which semi-bomb in their own right. Brian was a blondy short military guy, he sorta fancied an English Rugby player. He spoke to me on two separate occasions in the conditioning room on the importance of ROTC training and how it could help me with my college money situation. As most of you know, it isn’t a situation: it’s a condition - so to speak. John was a dark haired, Tiger Woods dressing kinda guy. He was very nice but nice in that no lady is anymore special than the next kinda nice. Yeah, he liked you, but he liked your friend and her friend, and your best friend.

Chris was tall and Italian looking. He had dark curly hair and bright blue eyes. These are basically the only things I knew about him. He was cute by merit of “I live with attractive people, thus I am cute.” Cute by association is not a bad way to earn the title.

Outside my apartment the light in G-8 was flashing on and off. Not a strobe light flashing but an odd sorta S.O.S purposeful flashing. “Are they signaling me?” I thought. Then came an odd whooping and whistling noise. I would later understand that sometimes when boys do not know what to say they make animal like noises to express their interest. It’s the truth I seen it on the discovery channel!

“Hey, Leslie! Is that you down there?

I couldn’t really make out the face through the window, so I just kinda waved blindly in the dark for a minute and then went back in the house. The window yelling was normal there was a lot of that, but rare few incidences where an actual encounter ever ensued. I was feeling too depressed to carry on a real conversation. In 24 hours, I was heading back to Covington and it would really be a moot point anyway.

While I was sweeping and pondering how I would work when I got home. I heard a pecking at my window. It was Mr. Cute by Assosciation Chris. I’d had no real conversation with him, so I assumed he wanted to borrow the communal Powhatan vacuum cleaner of course and let him in.

I’ll summarize this part to say that I received a very, very, unwanted smooch. That left me questioning whether it was ever safe to offer someone a drink with your back turned.

When he kissed me I was left feeling like Bridget Jones at the end of “The Edge of Reason” when she finds out Rebecca is in love with her and not Mark. (which by the way was NOT what happened in the book). He was promptly excommunicated from the apartment (by force). *Don’t worry-it wasn’t thaaat bad I wasn’t hurt, it was just icky.

At this point I went to G-8. CA’s party pad to enlist trauma support.

“We’ll start a women’s liberation front! Now! Tonight!
“But Nikki, It’s after midnight!“ I said.

It was futile to ever really ask CA just where we were going. It’s part of her whole appeal. We may be on some sorta tentative schedule, but at any moment it was subject to change. This usually involved high speed running, smashing up glass, and at some point finding your feet in a pool of water.

At this point CA begins bounding across campus. I say bound because it was a march of intention. Not so much a stomp as a cross between and stomp and the Fraggle Frock stride.

Nikki gets her sombrero (don’t ask) and I look right to left as if being watched and follow behind her and CA.

After a tirade on the tribulations of confused men, we found ourselves at the mini lake in front of the oceanography building. In Nikki’s attempt to help a frog back to the water from the sidewalk, she wound up mauling him with her foot. Nikki played the perfect Shakespearean tragedy, by trying to help the frog she had crushed it and threw herself into a hilarious state of dismay. I nearly laughed so hard I almost peed! We fled the scene of the crime to frolic in the Webb Center front lawn.

I get hazy at this part, but I remember someone sitting on the ODU sign..whether CA or Nikki I do not remember. Then yet another mad dash to 7-11 where we tried to act sober in front of Campus police. Trooper’s screwdiver consisted of 3/4 Aristocrat and enough orange juice to tint it yellow (not for the week at heart).

Whilst fleeing the po-po, I realize that maybe the only friends I need to start a liberation front are the comedians I’m running across this campus with.

It’s with a kinda sadness that I fell asleep that night to awake to a very different year 3. I often wish for the WLF to invade my job and go on some crazy adventure again.
Maybe it’s time for a new chapter.

August 1, 2005

Destiny Awaits!

Am in spectacular mood today for no apparent reason. Some girl drove through the naval station sign this morning and my sad sense of humor found it funny. Not because of the accident itself, but just merely trying to figure out how you randomly drive your car through a sign that is not in anybody’s way?
(The driver was okay, she was sitting up on the grass.)

So I went to Barnes yesterday.
Random witty banner with Ms G. inspired my new goodbye for the optimistic. Instead of goodbye, say “I’m off to meet my destiny.” With this thought in mind I went to graphic novels sections and seen fanboy spralled out in the aisle and thought…Is THAT MY DESTINY?” I started laughing to self and scared him and few random goth chics away.

Was mildy embarrassed that I had to ask who wrote “The Chronicles of Narnia” (hey the mind lapses sometimes). I knew on some level that C.S. Lewis wrote it. It just wasn’t coming to me.

I did find it mildy comical that they girl with long granola hair, a Starbucks cup, and an apron sorta mocked me, in a mildy accusatory tone.
“Oh you mean, C.S. Leeewis, yesss”..’ – Granola Girl
“Whatever, I just need a new series to read.” – LP
“Well those are in the children’s section…” –GG
“Umm..okay, WHERE?”-LP
“Can I recommend Artemis Fowl?” –GG
“Who, no that’s fine, I’m good now” –LP
Would you like a B&N book card?- GG
“No, really, that’s fine, THANK YOU!” - LP

I need to get a subscription to Print and Lucky mags. Lucky keeps me dressed well, while Print keeps the brain sharp. That stuff if 10 bucks a pop!
I need to at some point join AIGA.

Man 6 Feet Under was crazy last night. I haven’t been that surprised since Mulder left the X-Files.