He's acting dumb, that's what you've come to expect.

I'm lying in bed on this cold, cold April night trying to decide if I want to watch last night's episode of Game of Thrones now or wait until tomorrow or just wait until the Hebro falls asleep on his couch after a rousing game of Scrabble and just watch it On Demand at his house. Decisions, decisions. In the meantime I'm listening to Elliott Smith on Spotify and hiding under my comforter with my laptop and fuzzy. I resemble one of those forlorn and wayward kids in a Wes Anderson film. It's kind of fun actually, like being in a tent in the middle of my high rise apartment on the edge of Fairmount Park, the complete opposite of my old, but new again home-to-be in three weeks.

It's been a long while since I've listened to Elliott Smith consistently. I think the last time was in high school when he was an extra-credit question on a biology test (I went to a small school in the woods with good musical taste) and I rushed home to look up everything I could find on him. Even then I was too late to get on the Elliott Smith bandwagon as he had passed away two years before I took my biology test. My first introduction to Mr. Smith was during a screening of The Royal Tenenbaums with my dad. His song Needle in the Hay plays during the scene were Richie takes a razor blade to his wrists and the entire dysfunctional family reunites at the hospital after hearing about Royal's fake cancer and Margot's extreme personal secrets.

Can't wait to see Moonrise Kingdom next month. 

Remember it is only April...

I was going to write with a more serious tone or at least a less sarcastic and grating one, but with the weather being cold and rainy all day and in between watching countless episodes of Magnum P.I. (ladies of the 80s you know where I'm coming from) and what will probably be my last all-nighter in a very, very long time I decided that I would discuss an issue that is getting out of hand, especially since it is only April: someecards featuring Mayans and 2012.

Seriously people. Since the end of 2011 people have been coming up with various end of the world scenarios for the popular ecard website. Now don't get me wrong, I love those biting, snarky cards with their vintage etchings as much as the next person. In fact if I find a particular nasty one I'll even get around to posting it to my facebook wall until I get phone calls from one of my parents who find my humor too lowbrow for their refined tastes. It's the ecards with 2012, end of the world implications that I find so annoying, especially since so many people are taking this whole thing seriously. I mean if I survived May 21, 2011 (good call Harold Camping) then we will all be waking up January 1, 2013 mostly alive, but with epic hangovers. Besides if the world is going to end at the end of this year, technically I would be going out sometime on the 30th because of where I am situated with the International Dateline. So suck on that Mayan people.

Anyways... with the advent of global warming and the recent invasion of boy bands from across the pond, I can see how these ecards are gaining momentum so early in the year. In fact some of them are even funny, like the ones below:

Okay that one was pretty awesome. 

Aww man I want a dog.

For a while now I've wanted a dog. Not just any dog, a snow dog. Preferably a Siberian husky or a Malamute, but anything along those would suffice for me. Ginger Dan and I used to talk our love of dogs of the husky variety and how he would name his after the Tank Girl character Booga and I would name mine Captain Ahab or Penny Lane after the cat my roommate and I illegal housed in our dorm room for two weeks during our sophomore year. As a child I was denied the opportunity of have a dog. My parents could barely keep up with two screaming small children who fought like animals themselves let alone adding a real animal into the mix. My mom would have liked a dog, a small one like a Yorkie. I think when my dad gets weak enough in his old age to not care she'll finally get herself one. Lance on the other hand is adamantly against all animals that aren't someone else's or goldfish. Growing up, we went through A LOT of goldfish. Never in a million years would I have been allowed a dog, especially a shedding snow dog like a husky. Though with their anti-social natures a husky would have fit right in with my family. Unfortunately until I officially move out of my parent's house and into a home with a backyard I will not be getting the puppy of my dreams.

Instead I cope with my doglessness by reading the Text From Dog tumblr. In a ridiculously mysterious way some person in the United Kingdom is screen saving the precocious texts he receives from his dog while he's out of the house. The relationship between owner and dog is very reminiscent of the TV show Wilfred. In fact is I had to put a face to the "dog" on the other line it would be Wilfred's.

Seriously I'd hang out with this dog.

Anyways here are a few of the dog texts from Texts From Dog:

You can see the rest of Text From Dog here>>>

IT'S BATDOG!!!

It's the colors you have, no need to be sad. It really ain't that bad.

Honestly is there anything more cooler than Mill Murray not giving a fuck while steals a bike with a pair of bolt cutters? I really don't think so. Mill Murray just oozes je ne sais quois and a suaveness that only Mr. Murray seems capable of pulling off. I mean really how many of us can just hijack a bicycle and just walk away with the bike of our shoulder, not even caring if we were to get caught with it. It really is just such a baller picture. I almost wish that I could feel cool enough to do something like that or just not give a fuck to walk away with a bike. Unfortunately I have a stress issue when it comes to police authority and recently found two gray hairs on my head.

At 22 it feels a little early to be growing gray hair, but with a father who began shedding his hair line at 24 and a mother who has been dyeing to hide her own hair issues at an even younger age it's not exactly a surprise. Add in all of the compounded stress of the last four years and logically I should be nearly white on top by now. Graduation should be a time of joy a celebration, I remember watching my cousin finish her course load a few years ago and walk across the stage at her own December graduation. She was excited and energetic and proud of the work she had put in over the years. I don't feel any of that. I don't even want to go pick up my cap and gown from the bookstore. Fortunately I'm not alone. My friend Andi has yet to pick up her own cap and gown and my dear friend Slolly just wants to go home now and not look back. We have no desire to sit under the big white tent next to City Ave and listen for our names to be called out. I just want to go home and go to sleep for the next few weeks.

I had a language teacher in high school who stressed the importance of being more than just a drone who was defined by what they did for work. I remember sitting in a hotel common area in Greece with her and a few other people talking about life and getting better acquainted. I had one of the local stray dogs in my lap (completely unaware of the risks of ticks at the time) and I remember listening to my teacher tell us that too many people are defined by the jobs they do and not by the things they enjoy to do. I remember having a hard time separating the differences between the two ideas. Last week marked the third anniversary of my language teacher's passing and with graduation looming only weeks away I am starting to understand more of what she meant and how I've change since having her as a teacher. In college I put myself in situations I never would have imagined for myself and met all sorts of different people. When I left high school, I left with a bad taste in my mouth and with very few people I felt connected to. When I leave Philadelphia next month I will be leaving behind a whole slew of people from different backgrounds that I never would have had the pleasure of knowing if I hadn't come to college, including my best friend.

I'm moving home when I graduate with no job perspectives and no real life goal other than to just adjust to a new lifestyle and acclimate back into small town life. This time though I'm not leaving with a bad taste in my mouth or on bad terms with people as I had back in 2008. I'm ready to leave the city and return home because I'm not the same person I was when I left.

Art class.

Stowe loves art sports. It's true  played three throughout most of high school and while I was in band as well it was on a whole different level than studio art. The sole purpose of my high school was to graduate overachievers packed with multiple science and math courses on their GPAs and send as many off to small ivies as possible. Very little emphasis was placed on painting, pottery, and photography. Even AP English was hard to come by and if it wasn't going to be offered by Mr. Curtin few people had interest in enrolling in it. There was an art requirement, but many students found ways around it with private piano lessons or a semester of chorus. The requirement was a small one and if someone missed it by graduation it was overlooked. 

The music program is an extremely strong one considering the school's small size. The students enrolled in band are particularly devoted to their playing with many starting in 4th grade and continuing on through their senior year of high school. It helps that there is always several carved out periods for the band to meet during the week, but the fact that students have the same band instructor from beginning to end also contributes to students' devotion to the class and their music. 

Studio arts on the other hand did not garner the same attention as the musical arts did and while the students that took them were just as devoted they did not receive the same attention and funding that the other courses did. My high school was quicker to subsidize and science field trip than provide advanced art students with much need supplies. Time was another issue as well. With all of the required classes that I needed to take there wasn't much space in my schedule to take a painting or practical arts class. Because of my time constraints I didn't have very many creative outlets and I burnt myself out by the end of high school. 

In college I continued my mindset of putting other courses ahead of others and by the beginning of my junior year I was tired and depressed and could barely get out of bed most days. I ended up changing my major from a science to a humanities and for the most part I've been happier though trying to complete an entire major in three semesters has had its stresses. This semester I had the opportunity to take a painting course with Dennis and without it I could easily say that I would have walked away from school without my diploma and gone into the woods where no one could find the body. College is hard enough and while I'm not the best painter being able to receive credit for painting in an old house on Lapsley Lane has made it much more bearable now that I've nearly neared the end. 

A Good Friday inspired acrylic on unstretched canvas. 

My first large scale acyclic on canvas. 

Something, sometime. Indeed.

I hadn't planned on sleeping in today. In fact last night I set my alarm for early, about 7:30am, and went to bed, but then when the alarm went off I put on an episode of South Park and went right back to sleep. Unless I'm inebriated I find it really hard to fall asleep without background noise, preferably a television show with no loud background noises and monotonous character voices. I was able to keep sleeping until a little past 8a when my phone sounded off with text alerts. It was a guy I knew, K, who I hadn't spoken to since this past January. Usually the only person who texts me in the morning is Lance wishing me a Happy Morning at 6am or my uncle asking if I will be at the beach on Wednesday. I was surprised and pleased to have heard from K since it had been so long and because of his move to a new apartment away from the city I haven't seen him much at all. We chatted intermittently between my light napping and more South Park episodes until we made non-committal plans to do something sometime before I leave for Vermont in a month. By then my ever predictable Hebrew friend had messaged me updates on his potential summer plans and I had decided it was time to get up for breakfast and for the first time since Christmas I made myself breakfast using designated breakfast foods: blueberry Eggo waffles coated in honey (skipped the butter because I forgot to get it out of the freezer beforehand).

It's been a unexpected day so far. I'm submitting my last day of work tonight, I just need to decide what day it will be. I have a deluge of bills that need to be paid off before I move and with my tax return still a few weeks away I want to have as much change in my pocket as I can get before I have to quit work. I can't wait though. I feel like I've been at this job forever and in truth I really have. I've never dedicated so much of my time to one thing as I have to this job to make ends meet and as rough as it's been living paycheck to paycheck some months, I really wouldn't have made as much money doing anything else and still be able to go to school full time.

With a little more than a month to go it's hard to believe the past four years even happened, but they did. 

Night Class Y U No Cancelled?

Easter break has come and gone and so has most of the belongings in my apartment. My parents came to visit me, probably the last time I see them before May, and helped me pack up some of the less used items in the apartment and some of the easily packable belongings. I still have a lot of things to go until I'm completely moved out, but a large dent was definitely put in my apartment. This morning my parents carted out three bookshelves, all of my non-school books, my DVDs, the wii, small furniture, and cooking implements and appliances that I won't need in my last month here in Philadelphia. It was nice to be able to get rid of a lot of things even though there is still so much more than needs to be done. I'm hoping to fill up my car up with a few more things and take them home during the week between my last final and graduation to before the larger items get loaded up in the U-Haul and towed back up to Stowe.

In the meantime though I'm still stuck in night class where I've been for the past two and half hours looking things up on Stumbleupon while others scroll through their iPhones, look at photos on facebook or just stare blankly past the professor until the clock strikes 9pm. It's been a long a boring semester of a class that is really only filling a spot in my schedule, but still has a ridiculous amount of outside work that needs to be done before the final. I really can't wait to sit down a knock out the 20 pages of journal entries next weekend so that I can get them done ahead of the due date and give myself time to knock out the two papers I have due for my Southern Literature and Henry VIII classes. Why can't everything be as simple as painting?

And while I am here sitting class next to an open window that has made my hands very cold to the point where it's starting to get very hard to type I have decided that the humor category on Stumbleupon is my new favorite thing. It's starting to become a challenge not to laugh out loud in front of everyone, but like a champ I've been pushing through the pain and am keeping my mouth shut. I'm just not doing a good enough job for the girl who chose to sit in the desk directly in front of me even though there are about 20 free chairs around us. Sorry but your purse does not need a desk of its own.

After all these years it's still funny...