A Hobbling Hiatus

Sorry for the unplanned hiatus, but you know what is hard? Walking in a cast. Because ladies and gentlemen, meet my albatross:


Yes, that's fine hot pink fiberglass, all packaged nicely in a rainbow fucking shoe. Whaaaat? Why? Please know that if I had realized the reality of the walking shoe before I blurted out "Pink!" when the Dr. asked me which color I wanted, I would never have chosen something so loud. Oh my guh, people, I am a walking, well, hobbling, freakshow.

So, how about them ancient Greeks?! That's what I'm teaching now. They don't seem to be too into it. I'll have to think of something to do with them Wednesday to put them in a better mood. If corporate drones get cases of the Mondays, I hereby and forthwith coin the phrase "a case of the mid-semesters" to refer to the general malaise that my students now face. They're showing up late, if at all, and falling asleep. They have an outline due Friday, an exam next Wednesday, and crits for their studio classes this week. And a broken instructor who tries to make up for her immobility during class to crack jokes about the bodies on the geometric Krater looking like Doritos and the pantheon of Greek gods and goddesses like being on the Jerry Springer show.



They do look like doritoes, no? Doritos? hrm.

Anyway, I also had my first cry-er today. She's sad, she hates the program, is transferring and switching to a more practical major. I kind of didn't know what to do- she needed a hug, but I did my best to reassure her, verbally of course, that the new school she was transferring to was great (my friend Regina went there and loved it) and that if she needed to switch her major to just do it. Erg.

They're all being really nice to me about my cast, getting me my mail, talking more in class, etc etc. They are a good group of students, too- lots of A averages, it's impressive. But I am sure I will have amusing tales to tell about what their paper projects will include. And the Greek names are always good for a larf, too.

I also showed my ass

Remember when Teacher Lady wrote about the showing one's ass phenomenon?

Well, I did that today. Except not in the metaphorical sense. Literally, I think I showed my ass.

Now, let's begin at the beginning. The beginning of this story is Saturday at 1:30 pm. I am trying to leave the house with my mom and my nephew. I trip in my apartment (over a shoe, that place really is a pit). Should have taken it as an omen. Because as we're trying to leave for the store, I pretty much just fall out of the front door. With Liam in my arms. I thought I broke him, but he really just has a scratch on his nose. (Andrew, I promise, I won't walk while holding your girl, honest!)

I, on the other hand? Ass over teakettle, totally fell on my face. My ankle? Is so effed up. Will follow up with an orthopaedic dr tomorrow. I am in an Aircast and crutches. Which, strangely enough, given my exhibited grace in the beginning of this story, I AM NOT GOOD AT CRUTCHING. This comes into play with the showing of the ass.

Lucky for me, the injured ankle is on my left, so I can drive to school. Thanks Gob. But, actually getting into the library (and across the parking lot to the library) proved exhausting. As I was about to get to the door, I noticed one of my students in the doorway. He is a nice boy and was waiting to hold the door for me. I got in the front door okay, and was able to, in a most dignified manner, hop down the steps, 9 in all.

This is where it gets, um, unfortunate.

There is a set of double doors, the vestibule, and then my classroom's doors. Between the two sets of doors, I wiped out on my crutches. Seriously wipee out. Like, flat on my ass, have no idea how to get up, and oh my god these pants are a little big on me kind of fall. So one of my students just might have seen my ass today. I think he deserves extra credit, no?

When he helps me to my feet and opens the door to the classroom (mercifully window-free), EVERY student is looking. I do know how to make an entrance, baby!

Look, over there, to your right!

I've fixed the Links part of my template, by giving it the old college try. Then banging my head on the desk. Then asking for help. Then it not really helping. Then, I gave up and changed the damn template, started over again, and viola! The linkies work.

Some of these blogs are my staples, and some of them I intended to make daily stops. I found them when my boss and coworker (or 2/3 of my office) were on vacation. And then my blog went batshit crazy, and I forgot about them. But! With much resolve, I will tackle expanding my blogging universe, again!

Am now taking suggestions- what blogs should I be reading?

The Good Times are Killing Me

So, Kev's band played in NYC Friday night. It was fun fun fun, but I've realized how very old I've become. At 27, it now takes me two days to recover from staying out until 6am. I slept pretty much all day yesterday, and I'm still really slow and bleary-eyed right now. I have a lecture to write up, about 30 exams to grade (thank god I told them to give me a week!) and my bed is calling out seductively.

But I used to work at the deli for a 10 hour shift, standing, with no break (hello child labor laws!!) on about 2 hours of sleep. And then go out that night to repeat the cycle. And? I used to smoke a lot of doobage then, too!

I also realized how socially anxious I can get. I was FREAKING OUT about the number of people in the club. Holy crap, it was cramped and HOT in there! My sister came with us, and when she wasn't barfing in the bathroom (ten beers in the bus on the way up will do that to ya, I guess) she helped me to breathe through the fear. I am the worst. rockstar. wife. evah.

In other news, I've realized that I seem to always post on Mondays, then get wrapped up in the week and forget until Friday or Saturday. So I am now committed myself to being a long-weekend blogger, posting things on Fridays through Mondays and that will have to suffice for the week. I am not going to go all philosophical and quit blogging altogether (hey, I'm just now starting to teach, this is a WEALTH of material that grad school just didn't provide!!). I'm just going to realize my limitations- which, to be fair, have less to do with school and more to do with watching my nephew and playing with him, let's be honest!- and commit to something more do-able for me. I wish blogger had a "Publish on" button like typepad does. Meh, potato, potatoh. I hope you keep reading!*

*This is not a shameless call for sympathy or "Art Nerd, we love you" comments. I don't think. :)

Technical Difficulties

If anyone knows why ALL THE DAMN LINKS on my posts and on the sidebar link to myblogyourblog, thusly not working, gimme a holler, okay? Thanks!

What do NBA tattoos have to do with Egyptian Art? I'll tell you!

Gave my students an exam on Wednesday- a first for me! Oh my god, I was so nervous. I actually had to excuse myself from the exam (when only a few trustworthy girls were left in the room) to go to the bathroom. That nervous. They seem to have done well, at least my smaller first section did. Three As, three Bs, one D and two Fs. The two who failed have a story that is worthy of rate your students (thanks professordog for clueing me in to this site!) Something about lending out a copybook full of class notes, a soccer game very far away, and the resultant not studying (apparently not only on the part of he of the lost copybook, but also of the copybook captor).

The copybook captor is the same student who, for the first two weeks of class, would listen to my lecture with a horrible scowl on his face. I was sure he was listening to me talk, trying to gather clues as to which car I drive in order to slash my tires or something. Pure HATRED in his eyes. Then, at the end of class, he'd get up and say, "Thanks, prof, see you next time!" WTF? All nice and sociable like! Weirrrrrd.

I start teaching Egypt this week, and I am so amped for it. I LOVE this material, and it's so fun to teach. All the death and mythology and good stuff like that, added to the story of King Tut and how he wasn't really a pivotal historical figure, his tomb just happens to have survived, and my "think about the IMPLICATIONS of this little fact, people! What do we really know about the ancient world, who have we missed, just imagine!" spiel. And I get to show a photo of Rasheed Wallace, who has just about the coolest tattoo I've ever seen (besides Kev's, of course).



See, it's like the relief of Akhenaten, and he shows his children, which is an innovation of the Amarna style, and omg, this is such cool stuff, kids!!



I had a dream that they were all really really into my lecture. I hope so. It's unfortunate that this particular field of study doesn't lend itself too readily to really awesome interaction in the classroom, but hey, maybe if I come across as really enthusiastic, it'll rub off?

Fun with email trickery

So I emailed them, and they break down as follows:

one student swears she sent it, some sort of "problem" with her "school email", but I did get it from another email address. hmmmm
two students completely forgot (points for blatant honesty almost cancel out deductions for lateness. Almost)
one left who I haven't yet heard from

So I guess I'm now the "nice" teacher, which I'm sure will translate into "walked all over", but thems the breaks, I guess. I'd still like to read Teacher Lady's brilliant comment-that-Beta-ate, but I went ahead with my gut, and for the most part it worked out.

What is it with people thinking I know nothing about email? I don't know that much about technology, but emails that are sent are usually received. The others aren't in my junk mail, and the university server or whatever did not eat them. Whatever, it's not the biggest deal, but I hate being thought of as stupid, ya know?

And another thing? Why do they insist on sending me email from hotchocolatelovin or rainbowbrite(year-these-youngins-were born.com)? They have perfectly good school sanctioned, boring ass emails for school type use. Even then, some of them change those aliases (aliai? aliae?) Anyway, please, college freshmen, I think you're fascinating, but I don't want to know which 80s cartoon character you identify with, and the ones with blatant sexual innuendo? PLEASE cease and desist! It's icky for me, more than you know. And this is the girl who relishes the chance to write the word "cunt" in papers to make her advisor sweat. This is saying something, y'all

What to do?

Good news about the OBSERVATION, everyone- I am not fired! And? I was offered another section to teach in the Spring!! Continuing what I'm teaching this semester, from I guess medieval to maybe Renaissance or Baroque architecture? I don't know. I'll get the syllabus soon. So that's 3 classes, I am officially booked for the Spring! And I will be being PAID, dollah dollah bills, y'all! I'm so excited

This week, I've been busy returning students' email. They had to send me their preliminary thesis statements for their semester-long project. I received most of them. However, there are 3 that haven't sent them in. I'm debating whether or not to email the students and ask them where their thesis statements are. But I don't want to be the kind of teacher who treats them like babies. It's not the biggest deal, I'll be taking points off the "professionalism" component of the rubric, and it doesn't weight too heavily on the grade.

So, readers (if I have any left, because, like I said, Blogging his hard, y'all!) what do you think? Of course I'll ask my supervisor, but just wanted some interwebnet opinions as well. I'm torn, because they don't need me to hover, but I don't want these students to do badly in my class. They need to pass this in order to continue, or they become a year off in the already 5 year program. I'm listening!

Nerves= completely wracked

So today was the EVALUATION. I was so nervous, the event certainly deserves all caps. It went fine, though not spectacular. Dept Head was only there about 15 minutes, and when I read the written eval, I'll keep that in mind. How well/shittly can I have done in a few minutes, really? This is my grain of salt.

My TA is a flake though. This is the second time I stayed after class to meet her, no big thing, I just wanted to say hi. Nada. Never called, no email now. I hope she makes my copies for me for Wednesday. If she keeps standing me up, I'm SO NOT buying her a Christmas present. For. Reals.

Kev got a tattoo today. It's ginormous. So big. I'll post a picture when he and his arm come home. I have decided that I am going to get my own tattoo, probably with this guy. I am worried, however, that I'll be allergic to the inks, seeing as how I can only use unscented soaps and detergent. Perhaps I shouldn't make a lifetime commitment to having a substance under my skin. Ya know, for eternity?

In other news, my Good Friend Andrew (formerly of Sheepshank) and his wife Nicole had a baby this weekend. It's a girl, named Kira Noelle Mariposa. She's beautiful, I can't wait to meet her. I have a link up to his blog, over on yonder table, but it's in some way all effed up. Any suggestions on what I did wrong/how to fix it, I'm all ears. Actually, all hair, I'm having the Frizz Problem again. Holy hell, my hairdresser needs to come back from vacation, doesn't she know that my appearance was the most stressful consideration of the EVALUATION today?!

Lauren's Secret

Well, the honeymoon's over, ladies and gentlemen. Whine whine whine, I have to be observed lecturing this coming Monday. Perhaps this is so my supervisor can make sure I'm not teaching the students to make bombs or hosting early-morning keg parties or something. I dunno. But he wants to do this in the next week or two. Dun dun dunnnnn.

Problem being:

Mon- I've planned a short-ish lecture on MesoAmerica (not at all my strongest subject, and sure to be lackluster in my performance)- followed by a quick run-through of the course site and a quizlet

Wed- review for exam

Mon after that- Yom Kippur- we're off

Wed- the exam

So, naturally, he took my suggestion of the Monday after that, (when I lecture about Egypt, and will be super dorkily into it) put in in a neat little box and packed it under his bed. He's coming on Mesoamerica Monday, and I now have to weekend to fill out my lecture.

Owww, agita. But! I am going to buy a new and professionalish looking shirt for the occasion, and perhaps new shoes as well.

So here it is, a previously well-kept secret I have for boosting confidence when presenting. Sexy underwear. Because then, right there, you have an advantage over everyone else in the room, who do not know about your cute booty! Far better than imagining the audience naked, which, given their ages, seems more inappropriate than bomb making and keggers, by a long shot.

Blogging is, like, totally hard sometimes!

Argh! Don't worry, I am not signing off or anything, but I have been very very scattered recently. I have to get into a routine, and while it's starting to come together, I haven't made time for blogging in a bit. Or studying for prelims, but oh well!

RE the groundhog- his name is Henry and I may have made my peace with him. We'll see, as long as he stops going nose to nose with my cat!

RE the teaching- have had a couple of good classes, but rightthissecond, am freaking the fuck out. My boss would like to observe me, and I hate hate hate that. And what's worse, he wants to do this in the next two weeks. Well, in two weeks on Wednesday(my natural inclination to be putting it off as far as possible!) I'm giving an exam. Monday is Yom Kippur, and we have the day off (wow! A religious holiday, something my own fine institution would nevah grant!). Okay, so that's out. Next Wednesday is the review session/ "how to write a thesis because omg that part of our project is due on Friday- shit!" workshop. So that leaves Monday. As in 4 days from now. And? AND?! I'm lecturing on Mesoamerica, something I know precious little about. And I am going to give a practice test. Bah! So this is conceivably one of my rockier lectures, and he wants to observe me then? Ohhhh noooooo!!

I finally got them to talk today, which was very nice. I'm going to start doing this every class, because now that I'm more comfortable with them, I want to get to know them. I am getting better about waiting for them to talk. I feel a little like they're testing me, and I don't think they know the infinite patience I possess. I will win.

And since this section of the class is my weakest area, I've been preparing for class a LOT. Very dependant on my notes, which totally frickin sucks, but I can't do much about that. I can't WAIT! to start teaching stuff that I'm more familiar with. But I like this teaching thing, all in all. It's tough sometimes, but I can admit now that I was deathly afraid that I'd get to this class and realize that I had wasted my time in grad school. I want to be better for them, and though I'm more than a little afraid of the criticism I'll receive (in this observation and in the course evals), I have to do it so I can be better for them.

outro- sappy orchestral music, and the audience chants- Laur-en, Laur-en, Laur-en (a la Ru-dy, Ru-dy, Ru-dy. Except I'm not a not-too-bright but very nice football player. Or something)

So not a nature girl

I've lived in the city of Philadelphia all of my life. In fact, I've lived in the same zip code for most of my 27 years. I am very much a city girl. This fact became blazingly apparent when my boss started looking for a house. Being of suburban origin, herself, she became interested in lot sizes and the elaborateness of the yard (art historian, can make up own words, remember?). I'm all, "why?" Because stuff like that is not really important to me- ya know, trees and grass and stuff.

This being said, I have to say that there is just one thing about living in the current house we have that disturbs me. In general, living in a single house has many advantages over living in a rowhome. For instance, I can vaccuum at whatever time I want to, I'll only disturb those who live in the house with me. And I can also build any furniture at any time, for the same reason.

The ginormo lawn at this house doesn't bother me too much, nor does the pear tree in my neighbor's yard that shits little pears everywhere.

Rather, it is the vicious little creature that steals the pears. We have a groundhog, y'all. For serious. Bill Murray/Andie MacDowell action up on our street, and this ain't Punxatawney. It's the strangest looking animal I've ever encountered, and it bothers my cat when she's in the yard.

Seriously, why do I have to share my yard with this?



Please, send help

Tidbits of fun

There are quite a few things I've been meaning to write about, but right now I am at my only normal job. This might be one of the tidbits, which will commence, in list form, startinggggg....now.

1. I've acquired the supposedly extra-cash gig of watching my nephew on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I haven't gotten paid yet, but it's very fun. Except when he has an earache. Which he did yesterday. This lead to the bizzarre event of me reaching in my bag today and pulling out a (clean, for goodness' sake!) diaper. I DON'T HAVE A KID. But I do have a carseat. And apparently, the means to change said kid I don't have, should the need arise.

2. I picked up the two copies of my thesis that I had library bound. I look like a REAL writer, woo hoo! I may take photos, if I can find a way to blur out my last name and the university (ya know, teh interwebnet crazies and all) and still have an interesting image.

3. I gave a really boring ass lecture on Wednesday. I felt like a turd standing up there, all blah blah blah. (Hey, did you know that there are no pictures available of Charlie Brown's teacher that I could post here? Weird! Did we ever see her? I recall shoes, at least.) Nevah again! Luckily, there aren't too many lectures that I have to give that I know nothing about- Native American architecture is Monday, but it's a little more understandable to me, and I'll be more animated if I have to have espresso delivered by IV!!

4. There's a guy in my first section who stares at me the whole time I'm talking. I think he thinks I'm the biggest idiot in the whole wide world. Hatred, I tell you. Then, when we're finished? Thanks me and tells me to have a good day. CRAZY! I know.

Well, that may be all. No one will ever read this blog if I don't get in the habit of posting something (awesome) every day. Blah! Off to WholeFoods for lunch! Viva las organicas! Or something

First Lecture

Gave my very first lecture today. Guess which of the following happened-
a. I got soap on my shirt before my lecture. This also happened before the first class
b. Got a little tongue-tied
c. My voice became froggy
d. I tripped over a length of cord
e. I made this image comparison:


f. Reminded students that I grade their exams and projects- it would behoove them to laugh at my jokes
g. Totally fell in love with teaching. Until someone falls asleep that is!

If you answered all of the above, you are correct. And creative, because it wasn't even a choice! I think I like my new job. I mean, I'll be better when I can talk about the Greeks and Romans. There isn't a whole lot to say about Paleo- and Neolithic art. Not enough to fill up an hour and fifteen minutes, anyhow. Oh man, gob help the students when I get to Rome, though!

happy happy happy

Professor Nerd if you're nasty!

Okay, so here you go, a photo of me on my ver first day. Do I look official? And, Heatheradair can you tell that a boy took the special shot of my shoes for you? Dorkus, you can't even see the fun cork wedges. And my feet are, in real life, really small for my height- why do they look ginormous here?

Anyway, I may have forgotten to share, but I came up with an idea for the last page of my syllabus. I asked the students to fill out some standard questions, and then had them sign a sort of contract. It states that they've reviewed the syllabus and are aware of their responsibilities, policies pertaining to them, etc. Steal my idea if you want, I don't mind!

One of the questions asked them their class status. Uh, there are 9 students in my first section, and most of them are sophomores (1 transfer, one freshman).

THEY ALL SPELLED SOPHOMORE WRONG. EVERY. SINGLE. ONE.

There were a few sophomores in the second section, and some of them spelled it right. But in a class of 9, there's nowhere to hide.

And we're off!! Let the academic silliness begin!

T minus 10 hours...

Have you ever been nervous because you aren't nervous enough? It's not to say that I'm not at all nervous. But I'm not, like, freaking out about tomorrow. Yet. Probably as my head hits the pillow, it'll come over me.

The same thing happened on my wedding day. I was so calm and collected. I even forgot to print out copies of the readings, because I was sitting and gabbing with my bridesmaids. That is, until I got to the back of the church with my dad and the flower girls. Then, this happened...



I hope I don't look this scared tomorrow. I was one hundred percent sure that I was doing the right thing by marrying Kev. This whole teaching tomorrow's leaders thing, who knows?

It's all the Coco Krispies' fault!

Ladies and gentlemen, my ass is dragging today. I woke up late for work, but somehow managed to stop to fill up my monster rental car's tank (jeebus, 50 bucks, and I got the damn thing with 3/4 of a tank! On Monday! And I didn't go anywhere!) I got into work about 10 minute later than normal.

However, the fog that I woke up in made me make a terrible choice for breakfast. Coco Krispies. Because I am eight and I like cavities, okay? I think my blood sugar must have bottomed out, because it's only 12:15 and I am ready for bed.

It could also be that I stayed up late last night to catch the first hour of a festering turd of a movie. Mona Lisa Smile, have you seen it? I mean, strike one is the presence of the always lackluster, completely insipid Kirsten Dunst. I've hated her since I saw her on Teen Celebrity Jeopardy quite a few years ago. She is dumb as a bag of hair, y'all. Strike two was the cheesy plot- art history professor changes the face of Wellsley, in some weird way. I dunno, predicable much? And strike three was the resultant nightmare I had, in which I got to my first class of Architecture and the students knew more than me. Eff you and your thousands of sparkly teeth, Julia Roberts.

I wanted to like this movie. It let me down, big time. I'd seen the end before, but was interested to see if the crappy ending had a mitigating first half. I guess I don't have to tell you it didn't. And it's not that I have very high standards for movies, it's just that I don't want to be preached at, even with a message I agree with. And also, that Pollock was SO FAKE. Yes, you can tell. ew.

But Maggie Gyllenhaal- might have a bit of a girlcrush on her. A double header of that and Frida, starring the woman I'd definitely turn lesbian for, might be a special and magical night.

I can't wait to get home. Kev needs to take a picture of me, because today, I am dressed as the quintessential art history professor. I look silly, and feel the need to share it with y'all. Till then!

No, not dead! Just lazy!

Man, I wish I could say that I was busy writing lectures and syllabi, etc etc, and that's why I haven't written. The truth, though? Block. I hate it, but there it is. I haven't felt much like writing the last week or so.

But! Let's remedy this right now. I'll tell a story. A story about a rental car, and a dream crushed.

I am covered for most of the cost of a rental car for the time that my own baby is in the shop. The guy from Enterprise picked me up from the shop on Monday in the CRAPPIEST car ever. It was dirty, polleny and completely covered in bird shit. And it was beyond micro- a Kia Spectra. Shudder.

When we got back to the place, and I was signing my life over, the kid asked if I wanted an upgrade- to a Jeep Liberty. uh, yeah! So yay, for the same price I got this gigantic tank of a car, and it's super souped up. I left the moonroof thingy on vent today so it's not too hot. Leather seats get pretty hot sitting in the parking lot.

Anyway, while I was waiting, the guy and I were chit chatting. He asked if I have to go back to work. Yes, I do, I'm out at XXX school of art. Oh, he says, part of blank University, right? Yes. Then, get this, he says:

DO YOU TEACH THERE?

sniff. sniff sniff sniffle.

I have been psyching myself up all summer, thinking that the students won't know I'm the professor when I walk in. And this jerkweed guesses right away?

booo hooo!!

*stomps foot, pouts*

All was righted when the Slide Librarian mistook me for a student (an undergrad at that!) at the school where I'll be teaching.

Starting Monday.

Be prepared for freakouts, and some amusing Teacher Lady -esque stories.

You've been warned.

The trifecta is complete

As you all know, I crashed my car Wednesday. On Friday, on the way home from work, I got a call from Kev. Rarrrr, the car won't start, blahhhh.

Shit! Two cars in one week, surely ye jest? No, it's true. But, thanks gob, the problem was not nearly as bad as the one I imagined as I sat, overreacting, at the dinner table. But an aside to any mechanics/tow-truck drivers- you might not want to ask a sissy girl like me to "put your finger here, I'm going to start the car up. Lemme know if you feel anything."

HUH? I'm sorry, What? Have you lost your mind? This girl, she worked for 10 years at a deli and never once touched a slicer. She's just that clumsy/non-mechanical/accident-prone.

But I did it. And a stupid wire came loose, and it cost like 38 bucks to fix. Score!

So, that's two things that I own and operate that went kerflooey this week. Partied this weekend with the BIL and his new wife, them of the Kansas wedding. Big blowout in which my mom played beer pong, and WON! Weird.

Came into work this morning, and am greeted with, "what'd ya do the computer?"

Uh-oh. I didn't do anything, of course, but I was the last to use it. Because I was alone, all aloooone last week. They come back with tans, I have a busted up car, a barely-still-running car, and now, one effed up work computer. And really pale skin, let's not forget that. With the remnants of 3 pimples from putting sunscreen on my face. Be ye not so stupid- buy something specifically for your face if you don't want Edgar the monster cyst chillin on your cheek for a while.

Now we're down to 2 computers for the three of us. Something about system logic? I don't know.

Isn't school starting in, like, 2 weeks? NO FAIR! I am officially pissed because we had no fun vacation. Is it too late to go away now? And, anyone have a sofa we could crash on?

MMMM.. Spaghetti

Have you ever noticed that when you bring lunch to work, you're exceptionally hungry at, say 11:16 am? Oh my gob, I'm so hungry. Must.. hang... on... till noon!

Just so you know, when you google for images with the word Spaghetti, there are two photos of chicks eating spaghetti in bathtubs on the front page. Must know more...

Crash-Boom

Had a rather eventful ride home from work yesterday. I hit someone from behind. And boy do I feel stupid. My car looks ucky, though apparently I'm working on an old computer that doesn't have bluetooth, hence no photos till I get home.

But! I'm fine, the lady I hit (who, strangely enough, I used to work with at the deli) is fine. Her bumper is wonky, my front end looks like hell. Didn't even squish a bug.

So why am I still crying?

I really do think that the accident was unavoidable. There is a road, a busy one, with a curve in it. And as I was (Slowly, breaking for the light anyhow) coming around it, I heard Squeel! EEEERRRRRR! There was a car stopped, but two cop cars and a police tow truck (do you think that means that they stopped this person? There? Where there is no shoulder? I'm not sure, but the cop was awfully apologetic. hmmm.) So pretty much what happened was, car 2 in front of me stopped really short. Lady I hit swerved to miss him. I couldn't swerve to miss her, or I'd be in oncoming traffic.

I don't think I could have done anything differently. I'm not scared by what could have happened or upset that I hit someone I know. In fact, I'm a little glad that it was someone I know, not some psycho who'd get out of the car and start fighting me.

Why do I have the hives? Why are my shingles coming up again?

I think it's because I feel really. really. stupid. And dumb. And not smart.

And I 'm freaking out about insurance, too. Remember, I got a ticket, and my insurance hasn't gone up yet. What if it's crippling for me to continue driving? While it'll be good- Kev gets the car, and I take the train?- I think it would be really hard, especially for my longer trek to class in the Spring.

Sigh. I'm really beating myself up about this. Intellectually, I know there are worse things. But I'm the good one! Damnit!

I should be writing lectures, but...

Instead, like a girl, I will worry instead about what to wear.

Specifically, to my female readers, what are some glaring omission in my working wardrobe? In terms of bottoms, I have

2 pair plain black pants
1 pair black striped pants
1 pair Khaki pants
1 pair tan pants with sage stripe
2 black skirts
1 denim pencil skirt
a few printed skirts, bold prints so I would only wear those once or twice a semester
1 pair denim pants - no back pocket, they're for wearing ONLY with long long shirts. Very bootylicious, these ones.

I have lots and lots of tops, sweaters, etc but am feeling a little sparse in the bottoms. Is two pair of black pants enough? I'm only lecturing 2 days a week, but I don't want to be stale, ya know?

Also, thoughts on capris? I start at the end of August, and though it could be cold in the classroom (I am in the library, after all) I am preparing myself to be hot. You know, what with the pacing and gesticulating wildly at the screen. I'm one of those very hyper, kinetic lecturers.

Anyway, just wondering what y'all thought a cute young art history professor might need in terms of wardrobe. I have a slightly hippy-ish skirt, but I'll be needing some scarves and brooches, and maybe a beaded string for my glasses. Oh, and glasses.

What say you, readers?

Morning Drive

Today I had a pretty uneventful ride to work. Well, I was late as hell, but that's really nothing new. But I'm trying to be more observant about my world, so let's explore the ride from my home to the Digital Resources Center. (oh, yeah, the sli li changed names. score!)

Up there is a picture of my new car. I love her, but she is not named yet. She may be Salma, named after the actress I'd go lesbian for, and because my 6 is sooo sexy. I think she has an accent.

Anyway

So I was listening to the radio (iPod is for the ride home, I listen to preston and steve in the morning). They were talking about... I dunno, something.

Passed my good friend Andrew before the boulevard, he must have been walking home from work. He works over nights, because his wife is expecting their first baby. This way, he'll be able to have the baby during the day, and the wee one won't have to go to daycare. He's dedicated, that guy, and I love him!

Anyway, Andrew might want to know why I didn't say "Hi!" to him. It's not because I didn't try. I've made a discovery recently- I can't whistle under pressure. And I don't know why my first impulse is to whistle, but it is, and when I'm trying to get someone's attention from the car, I end up blowing raspberries at them, and it doesn't generally grab one's attention in the same way. Less, Hey, Lauren! More What the hell is wrong with that slobbering chick? Should she be driving?

Passed the lawn where, on the ride home yesterday, I say what appeared to be some sort of Wonder Woman parenting. I swear to gob, the mother lassoed her kid. Either that or he was on a leash, but the lasso seems less DYFS-y. Then on the same block I saw the tallest sunflowers ever. They were gorgeous, especially so close to a really crappy/scary neighborhood.

Then, in Dunkin Donuts, where I got an iced coffee and a bagel for lunch, I TOTALLY got busted looking in a one-way window (which, hello, those things never work!) by the manager. Ooops!

Now I'm sitting at my desk, there is absolutely no one here, and I'm bored. I have about a day's work to do this week, so expect many comments on all your blogs. I also challenge any lurkers to come out, because I am totally blasting through archives like crazy. Without my boss here, I don't even have to do a half-assed job of covering my internet abuse.

Let the slacking begin!

Happy Mood

In honor of my very determined happiness, I give you a smallish list of things that rock my world, right now

1. Am loving using my iPod in the car. My aunts bought it for me for my graduation, and it sat in the box for a month. I came to realize that there aren't too many situations in which I can or will wear earphones. Added the iTrip, and oh my baby Jesus, what a difference. Now I can listen to the most awesome radio station in the world- my own! What other station would play, in this order-
Billy Jean- michael jackson
I'm Lonely, But I Ain't That Lonely Yet- the white stripes
If It Feels Good, Do It- sloan
Pour Some Sugar on Me- def leppard (in which I hear the phrase "sweet to taste, saccharine" as "sack of beans", Miss Teacher Lady
And the list keeps going! On the way home from work I heard the Police, Se7en Heads (my husb's band), the Allman Brothers and the Apples in Stereo. Fun!

2. the words diptych, triptych and polyptych (I'm working on a Renaissance project, and it comes up a lot)

3. My nephew, who has just in the past few days taken to singing his name whenever he's not saying something else. Liiiiiam, Liiiiiam.

4. My new haircut and highlights, which I got done by Kev's cousin's wife (My cousin-in-law?). NOT ONLY is it super cute, it only cost 30 bucks for both!! Loves her!

5. Pizza Hut just opened up a block and a half away. Not that I'm a huge fan of their frozen pizzas, but hello, BREADSTICKS! I hear the same shopping center place might be home to a Coldstone Creamery. If so, look out, I'll be morbidly obese by the end of the year. mmmm.... ice cream....

And there you have it. Please, link away if you have suggestions for music, food, words or general entertainment for me. I live for change these days.

Can I Help You?

A few weeks ago, a girl came up to me in the hallway at work. She asked me if I knew where "the art show" was. Well, dear, this is an art school, perhaps more specifics?

her- I am looking for an art show, and the girl named Cassie
me- well, which building is it in?
her- I don't know
me- ...?
her- I'm looking for Cassie and her art show and she's taking a summer class and-
me- Um, there's something happening upstairs in the gallery, is that it?
her- I don't know
me- (pause) Um, well, I would go look around up there, that's the only art show opening I've seen all day.
her- heaves heavy sigh.
me- um, you're welcome, bye?
she- flounces off

Since when are people rude to others who are TRYING to help them with what LITTLE information they give? If you don't know where you're going, I certainly can't help you.

It happened again yesterday on my campus. A girl asked me where room 8-something-something is. Um? The doors definitely go in order, der. I asked which department she's looking for- econ or Art History. She doesn't know. I tried to point her in the right direction, but she walked the opposite way. Saw her again a minute or two later, and I say

me- I think it's over in that direction, the numbers are leading this way..
her- yeah, I just came from there.
me- This is a really complicated building, with the annex and the half floors and whatnot.
her- Yeah, seems to me

Like, implying that I'm an idiot!

What is this world coming to, where those who start off on a journey without knowing its destination get huffy with me for going by the information that they were able to provide me with!!! THE HELL!!

Back to regularly scheduled programming

Sticking to what I do best now, which is not so much cinema based as it is being a general spaz.

1. I no longer have shingles, except when I'm hot, which, hello? I call it my mood rash
2. I am currently in possession of my second advisor's copy of her paper that she's writing on my artist (yes, I wrote my MA thesis on her, she's mine!). Wow! And? It makes me feel better that she also writes something is strongly doing something in strong colors. I am not that bad of a writer!
3. But! She wants criticism. Is this possible? Is it cool? I don't know what to do, help me Obi Wan Kenobe, you're my only hope!!
4. I have realized that I want a baby. Likerightnowgoddamnit! But that is another entry altogether.
5. This may change, because I may be watching my nephew two days a week. The days I'm supposed to be studying for my exams. Am trying to negotiate gym dues as my payment.
6. Because I feel like a moose, especially in this heat, and MAYBE I'll try to externalize stress instead of giving myself exotic old people diseases instead. Hrm.

That is all. Sorry it's not too flowy, but fuck narrative, too hot. ick

DA DA DA-DA-DA, DA-DA-DA DA-DA-DA!!

Click here to watch the trailer for Rocky Balboa

Many thanks to dooce.com for making me aware of this trailer.

Now, I am no movie critic. I'm not really into movies, like, at all. Unless they're art-nerdy- I think the last movie I saw in the theater might have been Pollock, either that or the Wilco docu thingy I Am Trying To Break Your Heart. I'm not big on boxing either. And Sylvester Stallone doesn't do much for me.

Movies in general don't tend to capture my attention the way TV shows and books do. There are rare occasions, and it's pretty funny that both these movies came out before I was born. (I think) Mommie Dearest ranks right up there, too, and I like comedies. But only two movies get me excited, chills and all-- one is Jaws, a movie that scared me and yet intrigued me from the time I was about 5.

The other is Rocky. Naturally, Rocky I is the best. As often happens with franchises, they get hokier and hokier as they move on. And this latest installment has the potential to really really suck.

But y'all, he came back to Philadelphia. He ran under the El in Fishtown/Kensington, (Not south philly like most people seem to think, der) through the Italian market and up the steps of the PMA. He's old and in bad shape and he is trying for another comeback.

He's Rocky. Oh my god, I am so excited for this movie.

If only she still linked to our own blogs...

OMG! Amalah answered my question on the Advice Smackdown! Yeee ha!

Right here!

Stalled out

This shingles thing is for the birds! THE BIRDS!!

It's weird, though. Everyone's reaction has been, oh my god! That SUCKS!

I don't hurt, though. I feel like I've been hit by a mac truck, but I don't have the owies. My FIL says that's later though. I don't know, what if I'm taking genital herpes medicine for nothing, though? What if I don't have shingles, but some exotic skin disease they haven't named yet? What if they call it Art Nerd Disease, after me??

I'm probably posting this so that I can then start hurting, and then get better. This sucks, but not for the reason that most people think the shingles suck.

I am so weird, and such a hypochondriac.

A pox on my house!

I. Have. Shingles.

What? Am I eighty and in a nursing home?

Why in the world do I have the shingles.

What's fun- going to Target to get an Rx for Valtrex. Valtrex "I have genital herpes" Valtrex.

What's neurotic, of me, to do- Loudly ask the pharmacist if taking oatmeal baths is okay, you know, when you have SHINGLES and not the herp on the gennies.

What sucks- wearing long sleeves in July. For at least a week.

Owwwwww

Your semi-regular dose of art

Clicky a-here.

If anyone has any extra money or frequent flyer miles they want to give me, the artist on whom I wrote my thesis is having a show. In Mexico City. And one in New York in the fall, but that's beside the point. I wanna goooooo to Mejico cit-ay!

And? My advisor, the second, the one I actually, ya know, like, called on Sli Li related business. And you know what she said? Do ya? Well, she told me about the part she liked best about my thesis. BEST! As in, there's more than one part she liked, but the one that beat out all the others, relatively speaking, was this one part.

She called it sensitive, y'all. And wonderful. WONDERFUL! Yessssh!

And? This means that she has re-read my thesis in its finished state. Actually, I won't consider it totally finished until I design the cover of it and have it bound at the library. And post pho-toes on my blog, of course. But anyway, she said she was reading up on the literature, and you know what that means?

I THINK IT MEANS THAT SHE CONSIDERS ME PART OF THE LITERATURE. OMG, you guys, I'm flyyyyying right now. Feeling like a real art nerd, baby.

When my first book comes out, I'll be completely intolerable, I can see it now...

I'm falling apart!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am falling to pieces. Literally. Well, kind of.

Besides the whole eyebrow incident, I have a rash on my forearm that won't go away. It's weird, because initially I thought it was a group of mosquito bites. Now, I 'm not sure. My boss had me convinced that I had chickenpox, and that I'd then get shingles, and then, well, just dye my hair blue and call it a day. And naturally it showed up late Monday night, because Monday at 12:20, I was at the dermatologist's office, getting a checkup and my eyebrow fixed.

Falling apart.

And my hair is a giant mess- I haven't gotten it done since the last time I complained. But I want to go to Kev's cousin's wife, but I'm afraid to call her. I don't think she'll know who I am. And it's worse, because I keep putting it off and my sister is looking to get her hair cut with me. So you'd think that would be the impetus to just frickin call already.

Am I alone in my fear of cold calling people? I am also sitting on calling the doctor, even though today my rashie rash is so grody that I've worn a longsleeved tunic. In July. It's going up to 89ish today.

I just got over my fear of returning things. I have given away countless pairs of pants because they didn't fit right- ahem, Old Navy outlet, ahem, not the bargain you think it is when the pieces are all wonky. Anyway, talk to me, are you also afraid to call, for say, a pizza, an appointment, anything like that?

Adventures in Primping, pt. 2

So I talked to my dermatologist today. Apparently, ripping off part of your face is not included in their waxing services. So I will be going there from now on. Even though it costs $12 instead of $5. I guess it's worth it- if only to be able to wear makeup 3 days after the trauma. Owwww.

Adventures in Primping

This afternoon, after a rather nice if uneventful pedicure, I decided, Damn. My eyebrows look a hot mess- perhaps I will get them waxed while I'm here. So I trudged back to the room where the waxing commences, my toes wrapped up in toilet paper fashioned into toe separators. I lay down on the table-dental-chair-torture contraption, which, incidentally, justfrickinfits in the room, and onto which I justaboutfrickingfit. I'm only 5'8".

The waxing began normally enough, with me holding my breath while the lady applied the wax. I don't do this in anticipation of pain so much as I just don't think that the lady appreciates my breathed-up air all over her arms and hands. I wouldn't like it. But sometimes I almost pass out. Today was hot, and well, you do the math. The room got fuzzy, but I didn't actually pass out.

Until.

So for my male reader(s?) out there, first the lady puts on the wax. Then she sticks a hunk of bedsheet to it, and rips out your eyebrow hairs in clumps. And then she puts on Vaseline to help remove the extra wax, and to help her to pluck. out. each.and. every. individual. eyebrow. hair. that. the. wax. missed. This took about 4 hours today, me hyperventilating the whoooole time.

Then.

She used alcohol to remove the vaseline. OH MY GOD the pain. It felt like she threw hot acid in my face. My eyebrows! My skin! You just opened up all the pores by ripping out hair, and now you've sent them screaming shut in response to the burny burny alcohol, oh my god, lady, do I tip badly or something?

If I thought my head looked a hot mess before, take a look at this:



This is a hideous photo of my eyebrows, taken four house after the heinous attack they suffered at the hands of the nail salon lady. It's un-Photoshopped, except for a little patch of grody dry skin on my forehead that I must admit I retouches (cough cough, Britney in that magazine she just did nekked, ahem). Those are my eyes, my dark circles, and my scary damaged eyebrowal area.

But the shape is pretty good, no?

EDITED TO ADD:

This is my brows this am. Oh my gob, I'm hideous!

just for fun

what rocker should be in your bed

Angus Young, his boyish charms still rock
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From the ancient world

So, in keeping with my promise to keep bringing the art nerdery, here is a still life from a wall in the city of Herculaneum. It was buried, along with Pompeii, in 79 CE in the eruption of Mt Vesuvius. Herculaneum is really interesting because they were locked in ash rather than lava (as I recall) and therefore there is a lot of extant wood, ie furniture, that survived here but was destroyed in the lava of Pompeii. I also learned from a TLC special that the residents of Herculaneum, though once presumed to have escaped, were found relatively recently down by the harbor. They had time to get down there, but couldn't escape the heat. They said their brains boiled and 'sploded. EW! But I digress.

This painting, albeit a really bad image of it- the color is kind of off- just amazes me! Do you know how hard it is to paint glass? And the viewpoint is so interesting. They aren't supposed to have had any system of perspective, but who needs one anyway? This painting? Survives from the years that Christ walked the earth! Isn't that so cool? This thing is 2000 years old, and it's just. so. beautiful.

Shine on...

Syd Barrett died. He was one of the founding members of Pink Floyd. That? sucks.

Am now taking recommendations...

People, my hair? Has freaked the fuck out! It's rather frizzy , and with the flatness at the roots, I'm starting to resemble this chick (per my sister, Saturday morning):



So I'm listening- What do you use in your hair? Besides the obvious, I know I need a haircut (and highlights, gah the greys!) but until next week- when I get paid again- what can I do?

Been a while since...

Hey, isn't, like, "art", in the title of this blog? Haven't written about it in a while, have I?

Well that will change, thanks to Teacher Lady . She got me thinking about my favorite paintings.

I say it in the plural, because really, it's an evil question, like which cat is your favorite, or which appendage. I like all of my appendages for different reasons.

It's even more difficult for me to choose, because there are some works that I like because I'm a painter (not really an artist, not now, since I haven't done anything in a year. but still, BFA and all...) One artist that comes to mind in this realm is John Singer Sargent, whose paintings, oh my god, are so. incredibly. gorgeous. in real life. His fabrics, ahhhhh, so sexy. That's what they are, juicy, sexy, sensual paintings- but ultimately society portraits that I don't know how much more can be read into them. To be honest, I haven't looked too far into it.



There are also works that I like because I have some deeper knowledge of them because I studied them. For instance, Michelangelo's Last Judgment, in the Sistine Chapel. That painting fascinates me not only because it's amazingly populated and complex, but there is just so much going on. And the time in which it was created was right after the Council of Trent, when the Church up and changed the rules about images, and sweet merciful crap, it's just fricking amazing! Look!





And then, there's Manet. His famous paintings, God are they good. In both senses- I respond to Manet's modernism, his flatness and surface obviousness. But his late still lifes give me an art history boner. I wish I could own these paintings. He made the first, and when the man who bought it paid more than the asking price, Manet sent him this second, with a note that his bunch was short a stalk. How can you not love that?!





Am thinking of adding at least one art image a week. And also instituting Confession Wednesdays, in which I confess to something weird or bad or most often lazy that I've done. Pastly or presently. Oh I am branching out people. Look out blogosphere!

Geek Heeellllpp!

I want to design my own "skin" for my blog. Any suggestions? How how how?

To sum up a week's worth of happenings...

Am sorry about the no-blogging in a week thing. There have been "things" happening. For instance:

1. The iMac is back! Complements of CompUSA, our iMac now functions, and we only lost about a month on it! Sigh

2. We have added another cat to the mix. His name is Jack, and the only one who seems even mildly perturbed about his presence is Sophia. God bless the inventor of the Feliway atomizer! Bless him!

3. Have had the worst migraine, going on five days now. Actually, today being the day I called the neurologist's office in tears, I feel a little better. Though a friend once told me about a migraine she had where she didn't notice the pain, and it went into her throwing up and passing out at a soccer game in college. This will probably happen to me.

My neuro is a good doctor, but like a lot of my docs, he has the personality of a wet dishrag. He sounded mildly concerned about my head, and I can go get a new Rx for something different tomorrow. The receptionist put me on the cancellation list, which I feel mildly guilty about. I mean, it's a neuro's office, doesn't he deal mostly with stroke victims? I feel like if I get an appointment sooner than my existing August 8th spot, it's because someone died. And that's just not in my protocol, to benefit from random strangers' deaths, even if I have made them up, ya know? And even if my headaches have gotten worse, and started to bridge a spectrum of fun! new! symptoms! Because the searing-hot pain in my eye-al area wasn't enough, no no. And the occasional nausea and sensitivity to light and scent was getting a little lonely. Flashing lights, facial and hand numbness- all new, and so fun, I swear!

4. Oh, and the old car needed a new battery and alternator. Lesson learned- Lauren, do not try to recount the last time you called AAA. It will happen again, and it's so worth your money. Shut up and pay it!

The fourth was fun. I mean, as fun as the summer holidays get. I don't really care about fireworks, but Lionel Richie was playing at the Welcome America festival jammy this year. Would have liked to see him singing in fake Swahili, that could have rocked. I got a killer migraine, complete with almost-barfing at the BBQ we were at. And we went home before the fireworks, since Kev had to work at 3 this morning. Poor guy, I hope he gets normal hours soon.

I feel like I've been on the downswing since my speeding ticket. And while driving to our friend John's house yesterday, Kevin revealed to me a fine little nugget of info. When driving on 95, I mused aloud as to what the speed limit is. "Well, we're in PA, it's always 55, unless you're on the Turnpike." I shit you not, people, I almost killed him. Honestly, he couldn't have shared this two weeks ago?!

Lauren Does the Mid-West, the wrapup

I kind of fell off the whole blogging-on-vacation thing, and I'm sorry about that. But there were very important things to take care of. There was a best man speech to write. That was funny, with me all "taking a memo" style typing out what Kev was saying. Then I go to the front desk to have them print it for me, one stinkin page, and the jerkass won't do it!! I even tried to pull the best man card, to no avail. I'm really bad at the pulling rank, I didn't even get a suite the night of Kev's and my wedding, and I checked in wearing my dress and veil. That's two strikes against the Holiday Inn chain, as a matter of fact. But I digress.

Anyway, there was that, a hairspray emergency with the bridesmaids and flowergirls (that naturally I was called for- hello, was not a bridesmaid!!), the wedding blah blah blah and then... the drive home.

Driving home went well. Well, actually, we did lose our road in St. Louis, but it wasn't too bad because we then found the Anheuiser-Busch plant and took a tour. Beechwood aging, people, it's all about the beechwood. And the hops. But then stupid ass Dudley fucking Do-Right pulls me over, and I'm all bitter. It took a little longer to get home after that, what with me and then Kev verrrrr carefully observing the speed limit all the way to Phila.

So we made it, we're not divorced, and Sammy survived a week without his pops. He ripped up a whole roll of paper towels the night before we got back, but that's actually normal behavior for Sam. Sophia seems to have barely noticed our absence. The nephew did, though, and now he says my name now, a lot. It's so fun.

I've even done almost all the wash from the trip. Although the clean clothes are still in the suitcases. And this is dumb, but the bag, you know, the one filled with Vanilla-scented shaving cream? It's part of a set of luggage that I borrowed from my sister. Last night, I went and bought my own set. Ocean blue, instead of hot pink, so Kev and I can share. But how dumb is that, to buy a set of luggage after your maybe once yearly trip? Oh well, was 40 bucks, how could I refuse?

Dear PA state police

Fuck you. You suck. Instead of sitting on the side of the road, trying to fill up your quota of speeding tickets for the month, why don't you install some speed limit signs? I. Hate. You.

I was worried about the po-po in W. VA, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, and Missouri, but not here. Not home. You ruined my faith in PA's superiorness as a state.

And now I have points on my license, and that, to me, is so much worse than notes on my permanent record card.

Hate,
Lauren

A message from the real world...

Argh! I have a student from last Spring's semester of the class from hell. Get this- he is still perplexed and contesting his grades from frickin Spring of 05.

My advisor (and this fool's instructor of record, gah!) wanted to know how we came up with an F for his grade. Well, ya big j.o.

his average on test grades- 35
his participation/paper grades- 50
(handing in one of two papers, late, and horribly wrong, still got him a 50 BECAUSE I AM NICE!)

So obviously Art History is not this boy's strong suit, but neither is math. And the kicker is that he is my age, getting an undergrad degree, and assured me and my fellow TA that he was not like those other students, lazy and not having his act together.

No, no, friend, you? Are sooooo much worse, because at least they're 18. Asshole!

vent over!

Fresh Ink

Fresh Ink
Originally uploaded by laurenhpatterson.

Behold the new tattoo. It's a little, um, pink, no?

Lauren Does the Mid-West, vol. 3

Last night we went to the bride's parents' house for dinner. They have five, yes, five dogs. Three of them are weiner dogs, two are weiner dog-terrier mixes. One of the purebred weiners is in a wheelchair. She's sooooo cute. I'll have to take pictures the next time I see them. It was nice to have animal contact again, because I miss my kitties!

The bride's parents are both deaf. It's a little hard to communicate with them (duh, right?!) because I feel bad for making the bride interpret for me, but her mom, especially, is hard to understand when she's speaking. But! Other than that, oh my gob, they are exactly like Kev's parents. Not only do they look like Kev's parents, they also have the same personalities, they have the same affection for pulling out photo albums at awkward times as Kev's parents, and they even share the same love of camping and RVing as Kev's parents. All of this? Complete opposite of my own parents, but this is another entry.

We had fried chicken and some sides for dinner over there, and Kev very nicely got me some iced tea. Well. I took one sip, and I knew I was doomed. It was raspberry flavored tea, and I? Am so allergic to raspberries. And? You would not believe it if I told you how many times I've accidentally ingested them! And more than once at the hands of Kev's sister. hmmmm...

Anyway, I had thought to bring Benadryl with me to Kansas, but not in my purse. I felt the hives creeping up, and my throat was getting sore, but I wasn't going to say anything. And then everyone noticed at about the same time that Lauren has big red nasty blotches on her chest. I probably should have taken Benadryl, but that crap knocks me out faster than one of Kev's long and boring comic book stories. I tried to suffer in silence, but everyone kept asking if I'm all right, etc etc, which was nice, but I get the hives when everyone is looking at me, no matter what kind of fruit I may have actually eaten.

Kev got his tattoo yesterday. Now I really want one. But I'm scared. Not of the pain- I told you, he's a baby sissy la-la, but of where to get it, and the appropriateness of me having one as a someday professor. I may have decided (in Target today, where they sell beer, y'all, seriously, I come from a state where they have stores that only sell beer, and that's pretty much the only place they do, so this was very very weird to me.) to get cherry blossoms on my back. It's tricky, though, to find something that is meaningful, but not too literal. Or generic. Or korny. with a K, because that's how bad it is.

Tomorrow, the rehearsal dinner. Christ. I am maintaining my position, I'm just trying to be helpful and stay out of the line of fire. Crazy explosive, this family is!

My Toiletries Bag

My Toiletries Bag
Originally uploaded by laurenhpatterson.

Honestly. Am such a fool

Lauren Does the Mid-West, vol. 2

1156 miles from Philadelphia
1 stop over in Terre Haute, Indiana
4 hours in St. Louis, Missori
1 stop at Nostalgiatown (or ville, or berg, or whatever) USA
19 hours of driving
-1 hour time difference
at least 10 deer carcasses and various unidentifiable blobs of road kill (ew, and sad)
1 duffle bag full of vanilla scented shaving cream

I'm going to bed, and I refuse to set an alarm for tomorrow. Tomorrow, Kev has an appointment to get a new tattoo. I will surely make fun of him for his sissy-la-la ness. And we may go shopping. Or not! We are on vacation. Good night everyone!

Kansas City, here we come

Kev and I are leaving for Kansas City today. Well, we will be, when he gets out of bed. And gets his hair cut. And we'll probably need some ice for the cooler. But then! We will, in fact, leave.

We're driving there, an 18 hour trip. It's because I'm afraid to fly, but also because we wanted an adventure. But mostly because I'm afraid to fly. It sucks, I know that logically we're so much safer flying, but I really just like to be able to touch the ground at all times. I like feeling in control and being able to see in front of me.

Our computer is still broken, but the iPod is raring to go. It was frozen yesterday, but for once I was able to fix something that Kev wasn't, so yay for me! We bought one of those iTrip thingies to play the iPod out of the car stereo, and viola! 60 gigs of music at our fingertips. I give it until we pass the middle of PA for Kev to get frustrated with my musical choices.

I hope we're not divorced by the time we get to KC! Stay tuned for tomorrow's installment of Lauren does the US.

Wedding mania

So this weekend, Kev's cousin is getting married. It's a bit sudden, but no, she's not pregnant. She wanted her brother to be there, and brother is leaving for Iraq in July. Gulp! So if it's your thing, please pray for him, okay?

Anyway, since I am not shy about proclaiming the word of God, Cousin chose me to read in her wedding. She was a bridesmaid in mine, so I guess it's only fair. Though "bridesmaid" is a determinedly non-speaking role. I digress

She myspaced me the reading I have to do, wanna see? Of course!

"here- finally- is the reading i will expect you to happily recite this saturday. wow- saturday- craziness.....anyway

you get the racy song of songs, 2:8-10, 14, 16

8
Hark! my lover-here he comes
springing across the mountains,
leaping across the hills.
9
My lover is like a gazelle
or a young stag.
Here he stands behind our wall,
gazing through the windows,
peering through the lattices.
10
My lover speaks; he says to me,
"Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one,
and come!
14
O my dove in the clefts of the rock,
in the secret recesses of the cliff,
Let me see you,
let me hear your voice,
For your voice is sweet,
and you are lovely."
16
My lover belongs to me and I to him;
he browses among the lilies.

the 'browsing among the lilies' line is kind of unnecessary, but i guess we have to keep it anyway."

Seriously, Oh my Christ, where to begin? HARK! My love is like a young... STAG?! How am I going to keep a straight face?!

On a related note, when we had Kev's aunt read at our wedding, I typed the readings up to email to her. Our reading started with "The door was shut". Of course, I typed Shit. Which, do you know, is a real word according to MS Word? Oh yeah.

Well, here's hoping I don't bust up laughing or curse on the altar. O My DOVE?!

Mac genius?

If anyone knows what a Mac OS X system disk looks like, could you please tell me? Cause CompUSA wants mine, and Kev says it's on the computer desk, but I looked and looked, and I can't find the frickin thing, and now they're closed, but I'm still looking, even though I said an hour ago, and this is a direct quote, "Fuck it, I'm watching Rick Steves."

Our iMac blew the fuck up, people. Argh!! And? They have to do a system backup. And? It's going to cost us a hundred bucks. But! They're putting it on an external harddrive, which we get to keep.

And for the record, this goofup, I did not do. Unlike when I wiped out all our music, and moved files all over here and tarnation trying to change the username. FYI- can't be done, sorry! This one is all on Kev, I wasn't even home at the time! yessssss!

Hey, he was working on myspace when it happened, think I can blame them?

but in its defense

Myspace is totally lame. I am still a member and all, blah blah blah. But? I doubt the website itself is to blame for a teenage girl getting on a plane to frickin Jordan, of all places. And naming her the Myspace Teen, a la Motorist Rodney King or Track Star Shellie Turner (what the press called a local murder victim), is kind of, sort of, blaming the site, isn't it?

I especially like this little gem: "Shawn Lester told The Saginaw News that her daughter has "never given me a day's trouble. ... I just don't understand with all these new laws protecting America how a 16-year-old kid could get out of the country." " (op. cit.) (I think- it's been a while, okay!) What? Lady, you got scammed. And don't blame the government, how'd she get out of your house?

Oh my God. She'll be in college in a few years. Teacher Lady, we should be on our toes.

myspace= highschool all over

I have a myspace account. It's silly fun. I don't think it opens children up to internet predators, but I do think that they open themselves up to it. Witness my 14 year old cousin's profile, in which she claims to be both 17 and 14, and to have a kid. (She doesn't). Also, witness the sUpEr AnNoYiNg TyPiNg StYle ShE UsEs. What the hell? It takes so long to write like that, and the results are nearly illegible.

Anyway, this was not intended to be a rant about teenagers. For another day. This? Is a rant about myspace whores. No, not the random chickies that message you and want to be your friend/infect your computer with viri. I'm talking the ones who send out bulletins at lightning pace. Sometimes these whores come in the form of bands- come see our show! new album coming out! new song/pictures/random drivel on our page!

But mostly the major offenders are chicks my age. With desk jobs. This creates boredom, which creates longing for the highschool days, which catalyzes an urge to contact all your "friends" with stupid surveys that are obviously intended for much younger kids (Make out with anyone this weekend?). It's the webpage version of forwards

What really gets my goat- what? I have no goat, just cats! - is the all purpose "pay attention to me" kind of bulletins. New Blog up! (Um, honey, it's an entry- the journal itself is the blog) Comment on my pics! (If I did, you probably wouldn't like it, tramp!)

Of course, how would I know all this if I weren't on myspace all day everyday. God bless tabbed browsing, where I can have myspace, my email, and google open all at the same time. But still, it really brings me back to high school, in which the baffling ways of my gender-mates continues to perplex.

So, wanna me my friend?

Oh! and?

You can just call me Teacher Lady II from now on. A paler, greener version, but still. I got that job, the ancient architecture one, for the fall. Am, like, a real teacher now. Yay-ah!

Weekend Roundup

So the Action! Packed! Weekend! is now over. Thank gob! I shall break it down for you in parts, easily managable morsels of Art nerdy goodness, beginning with:

Kev's Gig, Friday night

Okay, so south Jerz is scary, y'all. Kev's bands played first and second, and they generally rawked. Then, Then! On stage, for your rocking and viewing pleasure, was a man who obviously counted Steven van Zandt as a personal style icon. He had the big embroidered do-rag, a purple crushed velvet shirt, and what can only be described as rubber pants. They were not pleather, they were not vinyl, even! RUBBER. And then, the next band? Their bassist also looked like a pirate! Oh yes, twas a frighful night in so jerz, mateys.

Barnes Foundation, Saturday morning
Always a pleasure to visit Mr. Barnes' place. It's amazing, since there are no wall tags, you discover something else he has EVERY time! The neph waved hi to every baby he saw (and since the collection is heavy in Impressionism, there were a lot!) and barked at every doggie.

Bridal Shower, Saturday afternoon
Meh, boring. But Kev's cousin asked me to read in her wedding. Woo hoo, fun! No, really, I am excited. I've never been in a wedding party, exactly, but I've read in a lot of weddings. And I get a corsage, what fun! A pink one!

So come home from the shower and make pasta salad for the boy's first birthday party. The party was fun. Oh wait, need a heading. Here

The boy's first birthday party, Sunday afternoon
Flurries of activity, including my sister and me going to steal tables from her work, getting a shitload of balloons from multiple places, getting a Sesame Street cake and ashtrays. That was really our list.

Get home, decorate a bit and then the families came. Does everyone know how incredibly effed up my family is?? Not my immediate family, we're okay. If by okay you mean all live in one house and come about thisclose to killing each other. But my cousins are another story.

They are a little embarrassing. They fight all the time. They are also all solidly in their thirties. And my one cousin C is pregnant, and she's a pain in the ass about it. Her brother R is annoying as all hell, seriously, I think he's bi-polar but almost always on the upswing. Whatever you call that part. He babbles on and on about his inventions. Christ, the inventions! He's working with Rubbermaid right now, and then he's going to go to Wal Mart with another. But I just let him talk, because on the off chance he does really make something of this project, I get a new car. Actually, been thinking, I just want him to pay off all my debt, including my hefty student loans.

Also caught my 14 year old second cousin messing around on myspace. Now, I have an account, and I see nothing wrong with it, if the kids are supervised. This girl obviously isn't. Makes me sad. Compounding this is my aunt, the thirty-year olds' mother, who is just miserable! Never feels well, always starting trouble, etc etc.

And this is to say nothing of the boy's father's family. The one sibling of his father, ew, what a brat. She changes the mood of any room she walks in to. She sucks. As does her older sister, but mainly because she's a junky. yep! Bet the neighbors had lots to say about us that day!

The boy made out really well with presents. My nephew, Kev's sister's son, (2 yrs old) asked her to put a Buzz Lightyear table and chairs set in the car. Thief! Though I'd be lying if I said I didn't lock my doors to keep the boy's dad's family out of my apartment!

And the angels sang and the cherubim and the seraphim and all that good stuff too

Holy crap. I? Have! A! TEACHING! JOOOOBBB!!

It's not the one that I interviewed for last week- no decision on that one yet. But! At my school, in the Spring, I am teaching two, yes two! classes. One is your basic art history 102. Renaissance to Modern.

But! There's also one that I get to... ready for this... create! like myself, y'all!

I AM BEYOND EXCITED, AND I'M SORRY IF I'M SCREAMING, BUT HONESTLY.

Last night I was near tears because I didn't think I would ever get some teaching experience. But! My advisor, but mostly the department secretary, have finally shown some faith in me, and omg!

Like totally teaching!

OMG!

Action! Packed! Weekend!

Oh my gob, there is so much going on this weekend. In the span of three short days, I will

1. Go to the Barnes Foundation with my two aunts, my mom, sister and the neph.
2. Go to a shower for my brother-in-law's fiancee (I'm never sure, is she my future sister-in-law?)
3. Miss a reunion of my college friends
4. Neph's first birthday extravaganza
5. Watch the Sopranos season finale. Admittedly, this last activity is fairly passive, but trust me, it's big just the same.

My aunt M's annual visit from Florida is often filled with tension. My mom is pissed because she comes at the end of the school year- yes, a bad time for you, but she comes to visit us while she's in Delaware for some golf tournament. This year, she moved it up so she could be here for the baby's first birthday. I think she's sleeping on our sofa down here in the apartment- guess I should, like, vaccuum the cat hair off or something. Add that to the list.

The Barnes is a weird place. It's this guy, an MD who was all into art. And it's very weird, a mix of PA German metalworks and mostly Impressionist and Post-Impressionist works. And they have verrrrry strict rules about visiting. They're actually going to move the whole collection to center city someday pretty soon, for reasons too deep to go into here, but my aunts wanted to see the original. Hence the visit on a day that I would normally spend prepping myself to be excited over toasters.

The Bridal Shower. I know everyone hates bridal showers, but I really. fucking. hate. bridal showers. They are so BORING! They are not fun. And I have zero enthusiasm for towels. Who thought up these things, anyway? I think that, like the medical establishment making residents work multiple-day long shifts in row, our foremothers had to suffer through this shit, so why shouldn't we? This philosophy sucks, but I've already had my fake-surprise, sit around in a circle and watch me open up dishes, sheets, and the weirdest set of etched lighthouse glasses I've ever seen.

Oh my God! I just remembered that I have to go out on Friday night, to see Kev's bands, in the plural, play. Christ, I'm taking Monday off, I'm exhausted just thinking of all this!

Cats 014

Cats 014
Originally uploaded by laurenhpatterson.

I woke up two nights ago with Kev's alarm. When he works, it's set for 2am. Just to give an idea of the setting.

So it's pitch black, he's slowly waking up, and I am laughing my ass off. What's with you? he says. Remember, he's used to me waking up in tears, but never laughing.

I had dreamed that Hariette, the cat featured above, was involved somehow in a coleslaw eating contest. I never even knew such a thing existed, or that cats ate cabbage.

This was no ordinary coleslaw, either. It had cranberries and other sophisticated ingredients. And Hariette was walking around on her hind legs. Like Garfield. She may have been animated, possibly, but I don't remember that much detail.

Just cats. And a coleslaw eating contest.

Seriously, what the fuck?

Young and awkward love

Damn it, Liberal Banana, I was going to do this anyway! I decided Monday, the day after Kev's and my second anniversary that I'd post some embarrassing photos of us. And then, she gets all bossy-like and commands us, her faithful readers, to do so!

harumph.

But since I still got nothin in the way of a post, I'll make like a good Catholic girl and do as I'm told.

Cue Kenny Rogers, Through the Years...



Awww. Our first summer together, and here we are at Hershey park. And I had this thing, this wrist problem- sprains, breaks, tendonitis, for about two years. Did wonders for my social life, having a bionic arm thingy on it. What the hell was 5'8" me thinking, taking gymnastics?!


High School Graduation for me. Also, the only photo that comes from my family's collection. We are not, shall we say, sentimental people. Fun fact- my highschool's mascot was Bambi. Like the Bambi. yep sure was!


This one is during college, and it looks like I may have discovered pot by this time. Family function be damned, I'm pretty sure we're both a bit stoned in one. And am I wearing a boy sweater? I think I am!




Rockin the skunk stripes like no other! HAWT!










Graduation again! Now honey, what are you going to do with this BFA? Check out my artschool purple hair. cute













Something shocking must have happened at this cousin's wedding- besides Kev's scarecrow tie. Must have been circa Dark Side of the Rainbow time.









Speaking of weddings!! Here we are in church, at ours. May 21, 2004. Too late to pull out now!








Dude, let's make a break for it. PSA- bubbles in your eye, like, totally sting. owww. And over Kev's left shoulder... is a good friend who blogs! But I won't name names, just in case he likes to keep shady.






So there it is, Kev and Lauren, the pictorial edition. I've found some horrific photos of Kev in this process (and of course, of me too!), but they may be for another day. It was fun to look through the wedding photos again. Some vital stats that are pretty much always spoken of in terms of weddings:

Wedding song: I Got You Babe, by Sonny and Cher
Honeymoon: Road trip to Cape Cod, Boston, Springfield MA (Basketball Hall of Fame, and that's pretty much it), Salem, Concord, and NYC.
My dress was, indeed, pink
These photos are only the ones I could take out of frames or the proof book- I have one that I love, but they're in our album now.
Something old: Antique Wedding Band
Something new: Diamond Studs, a wedding gift from Kev
Something borrowed: My mom-mom's ring, which I promptly returned to my cousin right after the ceremony
Something blue: A blue rosary from my pop-pop, wrapped around the stems of my bouquet.

I love you, Kevin, if you read this. Being married to you is amazing and fun, even if we have had some really bad hair along the way.

Post #100!!

Wow, one hundred posts, for realsies?

I guess I could call myself a blogger now. And right now, I'm even blogging from work.

So yesterday I got my Masters degree. My school's graduations are funny. I shit you not, there was a dude humming Pomp and Circumstance. Seriously, like laaaaa, da dee dee DAAAAA DAAAAAAA. One year they had a steel drum band. That would have been much cooler. They also started, em, EARLY!! I ran up the aisle as the last graduate. Then there were speeches, one doctor was hooded, and then they called... ME! Was suprised, since the names in the booklet went the opposite way, with the advanced degrees in back. I was settling in for the long haul, went I heard my full name being called. I'm all huh huh? And ran up, luckily did not fall, had my booklet in my hands. I threw that down on the ground, since I had no idea what else to do with it. I am soooo graceful. So I took my diploma, kissed various profs, and got the hell out of there.

These graduations at art schools are funny. I didn't wear my cap and gown- I didn't want to! I got pictures taken, but I didn't want to stick out that badly from the other grads. So I wore my black capris and a fun shirt I took from my sister. My advisor was wearing a red striped polo shirt with the typical tweed jacket with suede patch elbows over it, and PURPLE socks. A ceramics professor was wearing some kind of dashiki in the brightest yellow I've ever seen (also was a white guy). Huh? Yeah

And naturally, I got a rejection email this morning for that conference I wanted to do in VA. boo!! I got another rejection on my birthday in February. Come to think of it, it was for the same paper! Hmmm, should I take a hint?

I have an interview next week for a position to teach two sections of ancient architecture. It's about as far from contemporary art as you can get, but hell, I need a job. Will have to lecture on the Coloseum as part of the interview, gah! I'm nervous, so any good thoughts would be much appreciated!

behold the new carness

behold the new carness
Originally uploaded by laurenhpatterson.

ahhh, new car. Riding in style now!

Grumble grumble grumble

I feel a little beaten down this week.

1. I need a frickin job, and MASTERS students keep getting them.

2. I need a new car (equal parts point of light and source of agita right now).

3. And I look forward to a long summer of getting paid the same amount of money to work twice as many hours as I did during the semester. cry cry cry.

4. While I thought my finals were over and done with, permanently, no no no. My dumbass professor, who is new, and acts very much the new professor- overly critical, tries to show off the knowledge, generally a pain in the ass- was not happy with my final. She wants me to rewrite part of it.

a. yes, it's very generous of her to offer. True, she doesn't have to do that- I should just get the grade that I got.
b. fuck! I thought I was done!!!
c. the assignment was completely dumbass- my fantasy exhibition thing.
1. I know not a thing about putting exhibitions together.
2. I do not like doing things half assed, nor do I like doing things that I don't understand how to do!


Holy cow, I just wrote my complaints out in outline form. Get me the fuck out of school!!

no fair!!

How am I supposed to concentrate on my papers when VH1 Classic is showing the TV movie about Def Leppard?! Not FAIRRRRR!! I mean, with the early days, and the accident, and the overproduced masterpiece that is Hysteria? and then the end credits, with Two Steps Behind... sigh...

hot damn, that is one bad picture of me!

Honestly, what was I thinking?! I took the time to zap some zits, but I left those hideous circles under my eyes? In my defense, little sleep + allergies acting up = Rocky Raccoon under my peepers. Sigh. But that little bruise, it makes me a little hardcore, right?

I don't understand what's wrong with me, but I can't get this stupid directed research paper finished. ARGH! It's probably because my advisor has pretty much definitely forgotten about it, so what due date?! And maybe because I don't feel all that supported by my advisor anyway, and I just found out that a MASTERS student is teaching her own class next semester, and I am PISSED, and she's worse infront of an audience than I am, and grrrrr, why are there so many modern/contemporary people in the department anyway.

I am feeling sad, and now, as if I need more pressure, we have to go buy a car. Kev's has died, and we need two cars at this point. Sucks, but I can't use SEPTA to get to Tyler over the summer. And my car, which is now Kev's, is old, too. So we can't have just one old ass car. I've found one that I really really want, and we can afford it, I think. It just sucks, because we just made some changes in our finances and were going to try and save some money. Which is the whole point of living with my parents, to save money. We haven't saved ANYTHING, and living from paycheck to paycheck is FOR THE BIRDS! Anyone need a private art history teacher? I swear I'm cuter than that photo from the other night!

Art nerd, reporting for check-in!

So okay, Monday it's all over. There are three things that need to get done. They are, in order of deadline:

1. Cheesy fake exhibition assignment for Race class- halfway done, due tomorrow 10am. Not a research paper, so i find it easier to write, in some ways.

2. Directed Research Paper from last semester that I've actually begun writing- 12 of 15 pages, due whenever, I guess, since my advisor doesn't really talk to me. I might think about some sleep tonight, and hand it in Monday with

3. Paper on Augustus' house on the Palatine- not in bad shape, just have to re-write the presentation I gave. Add some stuff, take some out, change the tone, etc etc. due Monday 4pm, after which we all trek out to the prof's house to have some artsy dinner and fun fun fun.

you guys, this is my last semester! Well, you know that's not entirely true, but most people don't really get the whole studying for prelims/dissertation stage. I just tell them I'm not done, but now I can teach my own classes. Which I'm freaking out about. But someone has to give me an opportunity, right?

Or maybe the jitters are just from the enormous coffee coolatta I just housed. the thing about me and caffeine is, it helps with energy a great deal, but I still have my attention-span-of-a-fly mentality. I'm sitting here writing a blog when I should be working, for Christ's sake!! And I have 12 hours to finish this stupid ass assignment! And really, I want it to be in by 9:30. Who wants to be the one charging up the steps at t-minus 5 seconds before the piece of crap is done. Not that I haven't done that before.

hey, wanna see a totally cool thing?


Nice, I have a bruise from leaning on my computer! And it only took 6 minutes of futzing with the computer to take the photo in Photobooth, fix my crappy skin in photoshop and upload to blogger. Maybe my time might be better spent doing something else. Maybe I need to cut out caffeine.

Please, send Ambien!

Have you seen this bottle?

Missing, in addition to the pack of birth control pills. Last seen Thursday, April 27.

I swear, if I somehow find a meth lab in the basement, I am out of here!