I am sitting in the Charlotte airport, listening to Fan Death, and people watching. I have been given some awesome people watching opportunities lately. I had some interesting characters on my flights from Lynchburg, then last night Allison and I went to the midnight premiere of New Moon, because we are huge nerds. Of course there were some odd people out and about at that. Girls in PJ pants and Edward shirts. There were a hilarious amount of couples there. I feel bad for each one of those boyfriends. Stuck in a theater that is 75% squealing girls. I am glad I am not one of them, and I laugh at those who are. The first time Edward appeared on screen, in this awfully horrible slow motion, windy walk, there were a bunch of girls that did literally squeal with delight. I dont understand. I think this says something positive about my character, though.
Although right before Bella jumped off the cliff the reel broke, and apparently it broke in all 10 theaters. It was a min-mayhem moment. The old woman next to me turned to me and asked if I wanted to help her start a riot. I really wish I was making this up. She was dead serious. When she sat down she said to Alison and I "I can't wait to see Jacob's shift changing!" I think I will classify that moment as a "Life Fail" for that woman.
Yesterday at lunch Sarah, Elizabeth and I played MASH. I have not played in so long. I had a pretty positive outcome. I will be marrying Matthew Barney, working as a stripper, living in Brooklyn with 4 kids, driving a Hummer, making $100,000 a year and I will have my honey moon in Afghanistan.
Errrr.... Looking back on that, that is actually quite horrible. The only good thing is the marrying Matthew Barney part. My minor obsession with him has somehow become more public recently, and I am not sure how this happened. Last Saturday I was with Allison, Blair, Shep and Britt and at one point we were discussing what Blair would name her future children, and she said, "Kate I know you will have a little Matthew Barney Jr." And then Ashley said the same thing:
Allison and I attempted to make a list of the songs we would listen to if we could only listen to 10 for the rest of our lives. I have shared this with a few people, and so far everyone has been shocked to see this one on the list. I don't know why I like it myself, when I really don't listen to too much rap and whatnot, but it sneaks onto every playlist I ever make.
Boarding my flight soon. My mom is going to pick me up at the airport, then off to Town Centre for dinner where I will creep into the Apple store to see Rob. I think either Corbett or Colton is going to come over tonight. I'm hoping Corbett simply because I don't want Colton to ride his bike from Riverside to Ortega. He is even more of a bum lately.
The man sitting across from me keeps starting at me... Errr...
I am playing FishVille in the Charlotte airport. I am ashamed.
I have read with Stuff White People Like post multiple times, and every time I read it I can't help but crack up. It is oh so very true. Ashley and I both relate to this one a little too well. Stuff White People Like makes me feel like a very predictable person.
"Keeping up with art is hard; trips to galleries, enormous books, and costly bi-annual magazines are just a few of the many expenses you will incur during the process of attempting to stay current with art. While the challenge and difficult of this proposition would seem to actually attract more white people than dissuade them, the amount of work required to become and remain an expert on art is simply too much for the majority of white people.
Of course there are exceptions such as the people who have invested both their money and their lives into the appreciation of art: people with Art History Degrees. But as you have probably noticed, they have very little value to both you and society. The latter is evidenced by their annual salary while the former is to be determined on a person by person basis.
Currently, the artist who is both cutting edge and easy to keep up with is Banksy, and white people love him. He is anonymous, British, easy to understand, and he works in the medium of graffiti! This last bit is very important since all white people consider graffiti to be art when it looks like something other than a bunch of squiggles. In every other instance, they consider it vandalism.
As with any conversation involving white people and taste you should be forewarned that you are walking into a potential minefield. However, art does not work the same way as Indie Music when it comes to the need to like the obscure.
Here’s how it works: if you say your favorite artist is Vincent Van Gogh, MC Escher or Monet, you will appear as though your taste in art is derived entirely from college posters. This is unacceptable. Conversely, if you list Jeff Koons, Laurie Anderson, Damien Hirst or Basquiat, you’ll look like you are trying too hard but don’t really know what you are talking about. Chances are that white people will assume your art education consists entirely of documentaries, bio pics, and looking up references from Gossip Girl on Wikipedia.
Finally, if you list your favorite artist as a current, bleeding edge visionary who white people have not heard of, they will immediately recognize you as a threat and dislike you. It is also a certainty that they will call you pretentious behind your back.
Needless to say, it’s complicated. But Banksy is just right. He’s just edgy enough to be outside of the mainstream, but popular enough to be available in coffee table book form at Urban Outfitters. Though if you spot this book on the coffee table of a white person it is strongly recommended that you imply they got the book at a Modern Art Museum gift shop and not at an Urban Outfitters. This will make the evening far more enjoyable for everyone concerned.
If you find all of this to simply be too much work and wish to ensure that white people will never speak to you about art again, there is an easy escape. Simply mention your favorite artist is Thomas Kinkade and that you are in negotiations to purchase an original from the store in the mall. This will effectively end any friendship you have with a white person."
Jacksonville in two days. I am so excited. Rob has an alright work schedule so I will be able to see him a good bit. It will be really weird not having Jenn there. I will be spending time with different people though, so that's good. I am excited to see Corbett and Kevin, Rob and Emma. Except Kevin is being a jerk... We shall see.
Sunday night Evan and I are going to go see Between the Buried and Me at Edge 17. I have never seen them live, but I know it is amazing. Rob saw them a few years ago and he loved it. This will be an experience.
Allison got a concussion last night. I had to go pick her up at the gym and talk to the trainer about everything. She was not doing too good. We came back to the room, and I went to go hunt down some applesauce for her in Prothro. I asked the older woman in Prothro if she could get me some apple sauce, and she said, "Yes, I will be right back." Then she was gone for about 5 minutes. when she came back I hadn't moved yet and she said, "Yes sweetie? Anything I can get for her?" I asked for applesauce again, pretending that this did not just happen, and she asked if anyone was already looking for me. I just lied and said no. She left to go look, then this whole thing happened again. I gave up and asked someone else.
Allison and I enjoyed a quiet night in, watched Drop Dead Gorgeous and went to sleep early. Except we both had to wake up every 2 hours so I could make sure that she was alive and well.
Today was... interesting. During art I got a call from Courtney. Her dad was diagnosed with brain cancer three weeks ago, then he just died on Saturday. I feel so bad for her. We are putting together a package to send her after Thanksgiving. She isn't going to come back next semester, like she was originally supposed to.
John has been comparing my work to William T. Wiley lately, who I have never heard of before the past few weeks, but I am in love with his work. With the hidden checks and ampersands and the incorporated text, it is quite similar to my Arabic triptych.
I love the quote on this one, although this one is far different than his other work.
The Arabic triptych and the embellished vest print on a panel both turned out awesome, and I am really proud of them, although I have no idea how I am going to get the triptych home. It will not fit in my car.....
Friday at work Megan wrote me a story while I was working on the art auction. It is possibly the most amazing thing ever written.
To a Weezie. From a Weezie.
Once upon a time, there was a girl named W. Eezie who had a curtain of blond hair. One day, W. Eezie decided to go boysenberry picking. She put on her thinsulate trousers, her plaid shirt, and a pair of lopsided Uggs.
"Now," said W. "Where can I find a ripe patch of boisenberries?" W. Eezie scratched her blond head. She adjusted her thinsulate trousers. And she thought. And thought. And thought. And thought. W. Eezie started walking.
W. Eezie walked all the way to the general store. She walked past all of the tractor drivers and the pig breeders. W. Eezie adjusted her thinsulate trousers. She scratched her blond head. And she walked into the general store.
"Hello there Miss Eezie," said Farmer Sam, the general store proprietor. "Would you like to buy another bolt of plaid cloth?"
"No, Farmer Sam," said W, "I need to ask you something."
"Ask away!" said Farmer Sam, taking a puff from his pipe.
"Well, I'm looking for a patch of boysenberries" W. said.
"Boysenberries!" cried Farmer Sam, scratching his plaid-hat-encased head. "I don't rightly know! I'd say your best bet is to go to the land of Sweet Briar. I'm not sure if they have a boysenberry patch, but I know they have a briar patch!"
W. scratched her blond head. She adjusted her thinsulate trousers.
"Sweet Briar..." she murmured. "Later!" And off she ran.
But as soon as Kate got to Sweet Briar, she realized that there were no berries of any kind - except for a Merry Barry! So Kate settled for that. She rolled up the sleeves on her plaid shirt and she lived a very ghoulish, successful existence at Sweet Briar for the rest of her days.
I went to New York last weekend to watch my mom and her running group run in the NYC Marathon. Five years ago my mom was hilariously nonathletic, and here she is now, just finished her second marathon. I am really proud of her. Her entire running group did really well, all setting new PRs and finishing. The trip was really fun, otherwise, aside from getting there. My flight leaving Lynchburg was 3 hours later, thus creating a snow ball effect that left me stumbling into my hotel room at 2:00 am, trying not to wake everyone up.
The next day my mom and I went to the Brooklyn Museum. I don't know how I have never manged to go there, but I finally made it. I wanted to go to the Whitney but we ran out of time. I finally was able to see Judy Chicago's dinner party, and I didn't think I would ever see it. It was a thousand time more amazing in person than it is in photos. Its ginormous. We spent over an hour walking around it.
The day of the marathon I woke up with the runners and went with them to Staten Island at the crack of dawn. Shaun stayed back and slept, so I was left to catch another ferry and a subway back tot he hotel. It was about a two hour ordeal. But it was really nice, being able to just sit on the subway, listening to Crystal Castles at a deafening level and tuning out the rest of the world. I got off the subway about 10 blocks early so that I could just walk around, and it was oddly soothing. It was only about 8:00 by this point so there was not much going on, being a Sunday morning.
Shaun and I hung around for a few hours, and he went exploring into Times Square since he had never seen it, and I read and napped. When it was time for us to go to the bleachers at the finish, we though we only had to walk a few blocks, since he had scoped it out earlier. Oh no. No no no. We ended up getting do badly diverted that we had to run three miles through tunnels in Central Park, down by the zoo, jsut to get the 65th street where we were to begin with, basically. Shaun missed Traci finishing, but I hung around the 1/2 mile to go point and waiting on my mom. When I saw her I ran along with her for a bit. I didn't get to see her finish, though, since the bleachers were so congested.
The weekend has been really nice. I haven't stayed here and done nothing for quite a while. Friday night was the opening of the new gym. So Shep, Jenny, Sarah, and Lauren and I went to that an watched the Proposal with a bunch of girls. That was actually a really good movie. Then yesterday morning Jenny and I went and explored the new gym, played tennis, walleyball, raquetball, ran and worked out for a while. We were there for over 2 hours. Last night we were going to watch a movie, but we were both in too much pain to move. So Shep and I sat around, read, and I talked to Matt for a while.
The morning when I woke up I felt paralyzed. My back i in excrutiating pain, and my legs are urting so bad. I have not been this sore in a long time. I waddled over to breakfast and texted Jenny. She replied with, "Kate. I'm walking into Prothro right now and I look like I had really bad sex last night." And she did. It was hilarious. Shep was sitting a few tables over from us and was aparently laughing at us each time we had to slooooowly stand up and go get a fork or something. It was horrible.
I came back from breakfast and just collepsed back in bed, planning on never moving again.
No such luck.
Shep ended up convincing me to walk the lake trails with her, and that ended up being a lot of fun. The last time I did that was last February with Ashley and Jerri when the lake was still frozen over and we could walk on it. I want to go back to the field behind the lake with a blanket and just lay there. It was such a nice day.
Right now I am struggling to get up and go to my Voice meeting. I have no photos to add to the paper, and I honestly don't care. I want to quit, so badly, but I can't. Next year, not doing this again.
Oh and jussayin, I think that this song is the greatest song ever created. I think I listen to it over 20 times a day, for the past few weeks, and I have Rob doing the same.
I feel like this would be an amazing thing to experience live, although Alice sounds really rough live...
I barely have time for this anymore. I feel like I barely have time to breathe. Last year, I would see Kristin running around, always in charge of one thing or another and looking like her head was about to fall off of her shoulders. I now know how she feels. One fear that I have had has been starting to come true lately: "over involved/under committed." I keep adding more things to my plate, and I am physically and emotionally unable to get everything done. The one thing that took on last year that has been the biggest time commitment and the most annoying is the Voice. I know it looks awesome on a resume, but I feel like the rest of the editorial staff has just this one responsibility on top of classes. I am taking 18 credit hours, I have three campus jobs on top of working at Opera on the James in Lynchburg, I am in SGA, Habitat, Chung Mungs, SDS, PBL and some other things that I am sure are escaping me now, as they do so often.
I am much happier this semester than I was all of last year. Even Lauren said something about it a few weeks ago at lunch one day. I think I thrive under pressue. I know it is such a cliche thing to say, but it is true. During exam times I am always the weird one that is happy to be so busy. It's nice. This year I jump from class to meetings ro work and get little sleep in between, but it does make me happy.
Being a Mungling has been amazing. We had ode night last week and gave our moms gifts. I have loved getting to know all of these girls that I never really sent time with before. Last night Allison and I were getting into bed, early for us, then we got a mass text from Alexandra saying "Urgent mungling meeting. Come to GV 3B." We were not pleased. But of course this happy little Mungling jumped out of bed and scurried down to Green Village despite the rain.
When we got there we were greeted by a Chung Mung that graduated in 1999. Meeting her was amazing. She actually got emotional and started to cry talking about what an amazing group of girls the Chung Mungs are. It made me realize that I am a part of something special. And it made me very happy.
Other tap club news, I was considered for TTC, but turned them down. That's just a big no thanks. Earphones tap on Thursday, and I know some people that are being tapped, myself not included. Kind of upset about that. But, life goes on.
Instead of trying to update this with my life, I am instead going to make an A to Z of things that I enjoy and things that make me Kate. So that will begin when I have time.
