A Hooker’s work is never done

Yep. Killin’ time again behind this glowing screen. If Daniel hadn’t made the TV set-up so complicated, I’d be watching TV, so I guess this is at least mildly creative, in comparison.

Today at lunch, Kaylan said, “Oh, my nose is sliding off.” This brings me to No. 13778 in a list of reasons why I love my school. It’s rare in life that one gets a chance to eat in a greasy spoon diner (where, coincidentally, everybody knows your name…at the very least your face) with two women in full faces of outlandish makeup…one was Milificent from Sleeping Beauty, the other Ursula from the Little Mermaid, both makeups were executed very well, giving the effect that both of the ladies were really pissed off scary bitches without their even having to frown. Point of the story being, both Kaylan and DaniRose were made up in the fashion of films or theater, complete with nose putty, wigs, fake chins, and purple and green skin, and I got to hear someone say that their nose was sliding off as the steam from the beef stew loosened the spirit glue holding aforementioned nose firmly onto the face.

Granted, it’s Halloween…it’s not like we stopped in to good ole Acadia Grill on a Tuesday in July with the crazy makeup brigade, but still…I appreciate the staff’s nonchalance in serving some wacky art school students without asking too many questions. They like us there…NCSA students flock to Acadia in droves…I’ve never been a day (and I go most every Wednesday for the meatloaf) where half the booths weren’t students. There’s a very simple reason for this: $5 will get you a meat, two vegetables (three if they’re feeling generous), a bread (roll, biscuit or damn good cornbread) and a drink. And the food tastes good, like your grandma made it from scratch. Real mashed potatoes, even. They don’t hassle with change, either. An even five dollar bill does the trick. AND you have your food immediately, literally…you can be in and out of Acadia for $5 with a good, square meal (if not a tad greasy) in your stomach in under twenty minutes.

Once, last year, Acadia shut down for a month…I am not so naive to believe that it wasn’t a sanitation problem; what else shuts down a bustling breakfast and lunch joint for a month? But here’s the thing…I eat the food I make in my kitchen, and honestly, sometimes I KNOW Acadia’s kitchen is cleaner than mine. It was a joyous day throughout Design and Production when Acadia reopened… All of us poor students had badly been missing the almost-home cooked meals. That, and all the sweet tea a person can hold.

I’m having a good hair day today. And also, I just sincerely thought the phrase, I’m having a good hair day today. Somebody save me. Please.

Today, I wish that I could syphon some fat out of my thighs or stomach and put it in my ass. I get so jealous of some blackgirl booty…I want to be able to do that jiggly dance where the ass gyrates independent of the rest of the body. I am sure this desire has arisen due to the massive amount of Black Eyed Peas I’ve been listening to…’Whatchoo gonna do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk? I’ma get get get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump…” There’s talk of mixing milk with cocoa puffs that I don’t entirely understand… I think it would be fun to have an ass that literally shakes when I dance instead of this flat-as-a-board thing that all the women in my family have going on. Alas, genetics can’t be denied.

Except with plastic surgery, and I’d sure as hell NOT go for the ass implants first if there was plastic surgery to be had.

Today, I DO NOT have to paint roses. This is a good thing. My arm was tiring of the constant sponging motion required to achieve even stenciling (all the while, building some sick muscles that I don’t think I’ve ever specifically worked before…hard as a rock!). We are going to go over to the performance space and paint the floor today, which is fairly easy work… I will hopefully get good at wood-graining before I have to do it for a grade in Scene Painting class.

I was going to dress up as a battered housewife today for crew, but it’s kinda breezy and the ugly yellow/brown/bright pink mumu I have to complete the outfit isn’t the warmest thing ever, and, on second thought, it’s not the most flattering outfit I’ve ever put on…won’t win me any beauty contests, and while that is hardly the point of Halloween, I have decided it is high time to refine my image and look as good as I can, as often as I can. Yet another way this school has changed me…I’ve become highly aware of how important image is in this business, how first impressions count for so much, that it’s beneficial to have white teeth, clean nails, crisp clothes, nice hair. All the upperclassmen designers prance around in designer clothes, and I used to think it was just a showcase of money…now I see it’s actually a stylistic decision—good fashion sense says to people, I’m put together like this on purpose because I can see the big picture and I know how to make things, myself included, look good.

By the time I graduate, I just might be one of those people that matches my underwear to my socks, even though no one will ever see them. Since I’m obsessed with color schemes these days, it wouldn’t surprise me much.

Speaking of color schemes, that seems to be all I can see when I watch movies anymore. I don’t so much pay attention to the plot (which I find bothersome and can’t help, anyway) as I do the scene design. In Welcome to the Dollhouse, for example, the ENTIRE movie is blue, green and orange, with pink accents where Wienerdog is concerned. Literally EVERYTHING falls into this color scheme, with subtle changes in tone or tint based on character or scenario.

I’d like to be able to watch movies or plays again without automatically losing myself in color instead of storyline. I don’t know that I’ll ever have that luxury again…my brain has been formatted quite successfully by my professors to watch shows differently, and I don’t think I can turn that off anymore. This is a good thing, in the grand scheme, but some of the magic of movies has been lost to me, simply because I don’t watch them the same way… I’m sure this is a trait that will ultimately make me more successful in the end, but lemme tell ya, it’s mildly irritating to realize everyone else is laughing and that I’ve missed the joke because I was stuck on the wallpaper in the background.

I got a B+ on my big ole Candida groundplan…hallelujah and amen!

Off to lunch with Kaylan, DaniRose and Kaylan’s parents…

I saw Day of the Dead (the original…wait, is there even a remake?) tonight, and let me just say there was a clown involved that was also a zombie. AND– welcome to the world, new irrational fear.

Parts of the movie were actually pretty funny…the dialogue was crazy-bad, there was a doctor/butcher everyone called Frankenstein that had a pet zombie named Bub, and lots of entrails got slung around and/or eaten. I particularly enjoyed the scene at the ending where all the zombies come down through the big elevator and they are all dressed up like they were attacked in the middle of the most outrageous scenarios…a couple of football players, a zombie bride, some lady in a sundress and bonnet with a basket for picking fresh things (brains?), a mime, a clown, and I even think I saw a mod zombie in the mix. I must admit, I jumped a couple of times, and covered my eyes a few more. It’s not a movie that will keep me up all night, laying in the dark and twitching every time the house creaks, immobilized with fear that the zombie clown is in my linen closet. Or maybe I will, now. Way to go, Suz.

On a different note, I keep getting these pop-ups that say really fatalistic things like, We’ve found 457 critical errors on your hard drive, or, Your registry is corrupt…failure to act now could result in system failure!!! At first, I got all freaked out and took these messages seriously while ignoring them all at once, and when I finally get around to checking it out, these messages are coming from a pay-site that wants me to buy their virus protection. I feel like maybe these companies are exactly what I need protecting from…a new message pops up every minute or two…so annoying!

I had fun with the costume designer tonight…she invited me to go to some German festival with her this weekend…I’d guess that means we’ll go drink beer and eat big sausages. Maybe if we’re lucky, some one will play a funky polka we can get down to………….

I suppose it’s a good thing my cell phone remembered that it was Daylight Savings Time last night, because I sure didn’t. For some reason, I find this upsetting. Can a phone actually be smarter than me? It surely has a better memory.

I went to a crazy party last night…When we parked a block and a half away, we could hear the roar of people going ape-shit in their costumes. Then a band of boys showed up with a bagpiper… I had to leave fairly soon after arriving because there was a jackass dressed as a clown. I just feel that is a poor costume choice for anyone that isn’t a pedophile or a serial killer. My friend Jorie was Betty Boop on acid; that was the most interesting makeup job I saw all night, for sure. Kaylan was Rainbow Brite’s evil twin…totally sassy. DaniRose was ‘Suzy with straight hair’…I guess because we were both wearing our hot leather jackets, and she didn’t have a costume on, either.

I don’t really dress up for Halloween, I realize.

Tonight, I am going to go see Dawn of the Dead up at school. I really appreciate the fact that we can go see movies for free in a real movie theater… It’s always a treat to see a vaguely old movie that I’d never see on a big screen again. Plus, I’m going with a cute costume designer, and that’s ALWAYS a good thing.

I have to go be a makeup model now. DaniRose is going to make me look lean and angry, at the same time. I’m interested to see how this lean thing turns out.

Man! It felt good to sleep in today! I’m going to go to G’boro and visit with Adrienne and Katy for a bit this evening, then returning to W-S to go to some film party somewhere with DaniRose. It should be fun, I think. I don’t generally like film parties…there is such segregation between departments in this school that even when we’re all at the same function, we break off into little D&P/film/drama groups. The musicians and the voice majors don’t party much… Point being, even if I DO go this film party, I will assuredly find the cluster of D&P folk and hang there the entire night, somehow defeating the purpose of a party. You know, meeting new people, mingling. Yeah, we don’t do that much around here. We stick with our own. Sometimes I feel like this is a place where five very different cults have come together to do some work, but at the end of the night, we all know where we belong. Or something.

I really think I need to find some ‘civilian’ friends in this town. Or as the dean likes to call them, Outsiders. And I wonder why I feel so separated from the rest of the free world…

Tomorrow, I am going to go see Topdog/Underdog in the afternoon. When I went to check out the set in my Stagecraft class, I noticed signs outside the theater emphasizing the heavy content, mature language, mature situations…so my interest was immediately perked. I feel like we stay away from edgy material for the most part here at school, so I’m intrigued by anything that may be shocking. Of course the show is in the black box at Performance Place, not a mainstage kinda thing, but at least it’s there at all.

It’s Parents Weekend on campus…the place is swarming with people. Of course administration took down all of the fliers Heather Ho put up about the robberies. Isn’t it almost funny that a Ho and a Hooker got robbed on the same day from the same shop? Someone has a sense of humor. Fucker.

I feel like getting into some trouble tonight. I don’t seem to have any problems finding it these days… Hollis’ long-ago prophecy of the Weekend Warrior has finally come to pass. I am trying to accept this as my current fate, and although I have resisted, my track record for this past month speaks for itself. I’d like to think that my stress is driving me to party, but in reality, I know it’s just that I like to drink.

I mean, at least I’ve stayed away from the speed. Right?

I can’t seem to feel like wanting to draft. That was an akward sentence. What I meant was, I don’t really feel like drafting. This huge 2′x3′ plate is ’bout to kill me…and of course its due tomorrow and of course I’m a procrastination master and didn’t start it til yesterday. Which, come to find out, was a BIG mistake. I’m fairly certain I’ll be up all night long working on this damn thing, which had better turn out good enough to be a portfolio piece at the end of the year….it’s the largest we’ve done so far, and definetly the most complicated…it’s a groundplan for Candide, a show that I’ve disliked ever since Enloe High School produced it back in my junior year of high school. Boorrrrrring!

I really have to stop staying up til 4 in the morning with my neighbor…she is currently my favorite/most hated distraction. Favorite because she makes me laugh really hard, most hated because I can’t seem to stay away from her when I ought to be doing homework…and I know good and goddamn well women are my weak point, and that I ought to be focusing on work instead of cute dimples.

Do you ever feel like you need a good, hard slap in the face? If anyone is feeling angry, I’ve got a face that needs one brisk slap. Just the one; more would be weird and masochistic.

Tis the season, I guess, for my annual sinus infection that will, in all likelihood, last until the first thaw some time around April.

It’s gotten damn cold here in W-S. Luckily, I have a fireplace as well as a dumpster of scrap wood to pilfer. School waste will keep me warm and toasty all winter long. I ate s’mores last night…SO good. I love roasting marshmallows in the comfort of my own home, since usually marshmallows are an out-of-doors fare.

In other news, some cocksucking, low-life asshole stole $95 out of my wallet during crew yesterday. Normally, I’d never have that much cash on me at school, but I was planning on going to the grocery store and pay a bill during my one hour dinner break. But noooooo, some sticky fingered little cretin decided to make life a bit more difficult for me. Thanks, pal. In addition to stealing the money, whoever it was had either white paint or caulk on their fingers, and they ruined my black leather bag with big white finger smears. I don’t know which makes me madder… Worst thing is, it had to be someone working in the prop shop or the scene shop…I hate being suspicious of everyone, but I am. I have a good idea who it might have been, because there are some skeevy junkie fucks running around this art school, but I can’t know for certain, and therefore will never accuse. It’s a shit sandwich, any way I look at it.

It’s almost the weekend, though….almost the weekend. That’s my mantra for today.

I fucking overslept through my fucking drafting class, for fucks sake. My sleep schedule is all fucked because I have to stay up so fucking late working on drafting that I can’t get up to go to the fucking class. Fuck!

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Also, I’m applying for a job in Copenhagen, Denmark for the summer…I want it so bad! Steve just told me about it yesterday and apparently the Nat’l Theater Institute has a hard time getting people to come over and work, so… Steve is applying as well, so maybe I’ll get to spend the summer abroad with my favorite man on campus! Knock on some wood for me!

To end this glorious weekend of hedonistic tendencies, Daniel, DaniRose, Kaylan and I went out of a delicious, mildly excessive dinner of sushi. I was skeptical at first, eating at a sushi restaurant on Stratford Rd…Stratford Rd being that street that exists in every city, the one with all the fast food, the Bed Bath and Beyond, the Total Wine, the big chain restaurants, and of course the mall. I was pleasantly surprised with the quality and price of the sushi at Ishi’s. Granted, the service was kind of shite, but they definetely made up for it with the food.

I think I am in love. I have discovered the special roll of my dreams. It’s spicy tuna and mangoes, with a sauce made of soy sauce and a hint of mango juice. It is one of the best sushi rolls I’ve ever eaten and if you come across the combo, trust me on this one and order it. SO GOOD.

Also, my head feels clearer than it has in weeks. Wasabi just has to be a miracle food. I am convinced that the gods of the Orient created the wasabi horseradish root to expediate enlightment. When I am in the throes of the Fifteen Second Burn that wasabi creates, I feel like there is literally a passage opening to my brain through my soft palette. My head feels lit up from the inside, on fire with this glorious heat that sinks into my face and radiates concentrically until every atom is tingling. I could swear that during this fifteen seconds, my brain, being, whatever, is vibrating on a higher frequency than normal, and I feel like a funnel for energy when the endorphine rush hits. Then I just feel high, relaxed, often horny. And when THOSE last three pass, generally about fifteen minutes after the meal is over, I find I am hyper alert and aware and attuned to everything around me. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, I am convinced that aside from one particular instance in the NC mountains, wasabi is the closest I’ve come to a religious experience.

Ever since a friend told me that I sound like I’m having an orgasm when I eat sushi, I’ve learned to tone down my vocal appreciation of the food…but just a bit, though. I still moaned enough to make one my dinner companions uncomfortable tonight. And I enjoyed every second of it.

This evening, Kaylan is going to highlight my hair (all these new hair experiments!) and then I am going to begin the tedious process of taking a photocopy of one quarter of a tile floor, transferring that onto one sheet of vellum (4 times over to have a complete floor), transferring the transfer onto watercolor paper, and then using my favorite medium of life, gouache, to paint it all in pretty colors. I’m actually really excited about this project…it’s much more my speed than the complex drafts we’ve been doing recently in my rendering class. Sure, it’ll take me for-fucking-ever to get the transfer process completed, but once I hit the watercolor paper, it’ll be fun fun FUN!

My cat is officially going ape-shit, not being able to go outside in these crisp fall breezes. Poor kitty. Am I selfish to keep her inside, away from all the speeding cars that whizz by our house every day? I can’t decide if it’s unfair to keep her locked inside away from all harm, just so that I get to keep her around for longer. I guess ultimately it’s a quality vs. quantity issue. Not like she’s got much to complain about…she’s got the high life, so far as I can see. But then again, I DO get to go outside whenever I want.

I am so happy it is finally sweater weather…Fall always seems to come right when I get really sick of my spring/summer wardrobe. Good timing, weather.

In preparation for the upcoming two weeks, which will be insanely busy, I spent all day yesterday cleaning my entire life…all the sheets and towels and clothes are washed, the floors are swept and vacuumed, dishes are done, living room has been rearranged into a more comfortable fashion, refrigerator has been liberated of all old food, bathroom tiles have been scrubbed til they shine, all the rugs have been beaten and my bedroom is looking like the immaculate Den of Sin that I’ve been aiming for since I was twenty. What is it about a really good, deep clean that makes a person feel twenty pounds lighter? I have to clean before times of anticipated stress because if I don’t, every time I come home, stress is compounded by at least 37%…Something about my work being in disarray and then coming home to a house in disarray…it drives me absolutely crazy. I think that contributed to my minor freak out Wed. night…I fucked my paint project up, and then the dining room floor made my feet black as I ran around trying to talk myself down from a crying fit…and then I got pissed at the realization my feet were black and I cried a little bit anyway.

Of course, since the draft I was assigned on Friday isn’t due until next Friday (as opposed to the usual Monday) I spent most of the weekend drinking wine with my friends. My paint charge decided she wanted to come to the party with us last night, so we picked her up and went to another friends house for a pre-party drinking game…with wine…trouble! It was super-fun, though. I’m glad I had the chance to spend time outside of crew with my paint charge…she’s lots of fun and really nice, and we’ll be spending lots of time with each other over the next two years, so it’s good to make that outside connection. I feel very comfortable with all the ladies on the paint deck…they are so much fun, so nice, all very hardworking and creative and talented. It is nice to finally feel like I perfectly belong in the department that I’m in…while all the Wig and Makeup ladies are really lovely, I am NOT one of them…we are different breeds of people, me and them. I don’t even wear makeup every day, whereas none of them leave the house, EVER, without a full face, and they all kinda gave me shit about not engaging in that kind of behavior. I am a big fan of not wearing makeup unless I actually need it or want it. Most days, I don’t see the point in gettin pretty to go get dirty. Although, I suppose it depends on what kind of dirty we’re talking…

Some days, like today, I feel the urge to write and then have nothing really interesting or poignant or relevant to relay…

…so here’s the dream I had last night:

There was a party at my old friend Emily Burtt’s house. (Background: we were friends in high school, her parents let lots of kids hang out at their house after school every day, and they lived right across the street from the Rose Garden and the Raleigh Little Theatre) Everyone I knew from high school was there…I was very excited to party with Alex and Dallas and Jenny H. and Adrienne, even if it was just a dream. The party was on the sidewalk across the street from the house, which struck me as odd, even in the dream. So then I see my old drama teacher, Sue Scarborough, roll up in a wheelchair (she was always very overweight)…then she told me she’d always known I was destined for a career in theater, ever since we did the improv exercise where I was her daughter telling her I was pregnant, and her reaction was to keep feeding me chocolate cake (that really happened when I was fourteen). Then, Emily’s mom came out and told me Emily was really sick, some kind of cancer, and that she wouldn’t be attending the party. Then a pack of wild dogs burst out of the Rose Garden and started trying to maul people, and I remember running along a really tall cement wall, with a big, slobbery dog chasing me the whole time. I could see my friends down below trying to beat off these wild dogs, and then I saw a dog launch onto my friend Mark, and I woke up all freaked out. What would Freud think of that?