Che cazzo?

In class last Thursday we were talking about how women influence media and culture, and how culture influences women. After talking about plastic surgery and celebrities we started talking about make-up. After a student brought up that make-up is now marketed to girls as young as six or seven this is what my (female) professor said:

"When I was growing up in the Bronx the only girls that wore make-up before they were in their late teens were the Italians. (Pause) And they were fast. (Longer Pause) Sorry Libby."

What am I supposed to say to that?

Ha.

I post so rarely it's starting to look like I no longer exist. Sorry, but due to school and some health issues I haven't really had the time or humor to post lately. Hopefully things will calm down soon. Hope you miss me.

Project 1- Nature

I am taking digital photography, so I thought I would post the pictures that I turn in each class. Our first assignment was to take nature photos. Let me know what you think.

Dream on

School started last night. I'm sure I'll get into details about my classes soon, but for now I wanted to talk about a side effect of classes that I had forgotten about until last night. I have class from 5:45-10:30 on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. I usually try to go to bed soon after getting home. As a result of my brain being "on" for so many hours before bed, I tend to have very strange vivid dreams. I totally forgot about it until I woke up this morning. So, I'm going to talk about my dream. Disclaimer: it was a dream!

I was in a car with my parents and brother and we were driving through a cemetery. We went up a hill and came upon this strange excavation site. There were lots of people working, and tons on bodies in body bags. Somehow I came to the conclusion that the people were Mormons and were digging up bodies in order to baptise them. (They do (did?) do this). I started taking pictures, thinking it was crazy that this was going on with such little security, and how did they get the permission to do this? They saw what I was doing and stopped our car. They searched and searched for the camera and kept questioning us. We finally got to leave. They continued to look for my camera, coming to my house to do a search there, and following me around. I decided not to say anything to anyone about it because, even though it enraged me, who was I to be responsible for the persecution of a religion based on one crazy sect? Very noble. But then they did something that really pissed me off (no idea what), and the gloves came off. Now, I could have sent the pictures to the local paper, or called the news, but that would be rational and this was a dream. So what did I do? I somehow contacted the Taliban (phonebook?) and told them that Mormons were baptising Muslims. They were not happy. Next thing I know the cemetery was bombed and it was all over. Very strange.

I have no idea what to make of this, but I've been thinking about it all morning so I thought I would share.

And so it begins.

School mockery time. So I had to stop by the old GVC this morning to talk to a professor about a class I'm going to be a peer leader for. It went well, but afterwards I was hoping to meet up with my advisor to ask a few questions. Ha.

He, I'll call him Jude, is a little kooky. Hilariously awesome, but kooky none the less. Good quality in friends and maybe an uncle, not so much in someone whose job it is to advise you on important academic decisions. Now, to his credit my inability to locate him isn't his fault. See, GVC decided to build this new building, they made the professors from two other buildings box up all of their belongings with the promise this new building would be ready by August. It isn't. So, these professors have no office, no phones, no computers, basically nothing. Not the best situation five days before classes begin.

Anyway, I'm in the library and I ask another homeless professor if she has seen Jude around, she hasn't. She asks why and I tell her I want to add/drop a class. She tells me to run and get a form and she'll sign it (I don't think she's supposed to do that). So I head out the door. Seconds later she's running after me, she scribbles her signature and tells me to sign it for her (we are really not supposed to do that).

So, before classes even begin I learned my first lesson: forgery.

There's nothing happening here...

I would like to post, but not much is going on right now.

I'm getting ready for school to start, so that means: expensive book purchases, frantic calls to professors and advisers, yelling at the business and financial aid office employees, new parking sticker, and meetings meetings meetings! Blog land will be very happy when school does start, because the losers I go to school with are ridiculously easy to mock. And I lost all of my best classmates to the real world, so I will have a plethora of material and no one to share it with.