I was at the MFA thesis screenings recently, standing in line to enter the theater and chatting with a friend of mine and a guy I had never met before. 

Carlos: How's school blah blah blah?

Me: Oh you know blah blah blah. 

Carlos: What about the class with all the tools in it?

Me: What?

Carlos: You know, the one with the guys playing with power tools.

Me: Oh! Ugh!

(Turning to Carlos' friend who I had just met to explain the class)

Me: It's this class where we build sets and things, but really it's just a bunch of guys playing with power tools. 

New Friend: Oh, I don't think I would like that, I don't like power tools.

Me: Yeah, I don't really either. Usually I just yell at the guys in my class, "I need a man over here, I want to screw something!" 

I actually kind of yelled it (you know, better story that way) and immediately turned bright red. 

 

This is a graduate level class you can take here at Iowa

Textile Science: 

This is a study of textile fibers, yarns, fabrics, and products. Topics include textile properties, fiber science, yarn and fabric construction, textile testing and standards, dyeing, and finishing. The class has one lecture and one lab each week. In the lab, students identify types of fibers, dye fabrics, and conduct a project. Examples of lab projects are examining the strength and absorbency of fabrics, examining the appearance of fabrics under different types of light, and developing classroom materials on the relationship between textiles and electrostatic cling. Grading is based on two exams, lab work, and participation/attendance. Students must purchase a text, a packet, and some materials for their project. 

Proper accessories for horses

It's Miracles 20th anniversary this year.

After MUCH deliberation
it was finally decided
the best way to

celebrate:





OH YES.






There are so many more of these photos now, by the way.

Google Me

Here is a list of recent Google searches that have lead people to this very blog:

"Why I like horses"

"Proper accessories for horses"

"Drastic Haircut" (Twice!)

"Haircut check"

"Carina caliente" (I assume somebody was checking on my previous post about this)

And my favorite...

"Asshole Match.com profile" (I hope this person found what they were looking for)

We are artists

I spent a good part of two nights ago chasing the cat around the house after he stepped in the pile of gold paint I was using.

He hopped on the desk, then paused in a brief moment of confusion. He and I realized what had happened at almost the same instant. He was faster and managed to hit the desk, bed (sheets and comforter), area rug, hardwood floor, and kitchen rug before I scooped him up (gold feet straight up in the air) dragged him through the building and dumped his happy ass on the front walkway.

He scampered to the window and bitched at me while I Cinderella-ed about eight different surfaces.



He's a bad cat.

In class shoot

...damnit it's squished.

Deal for now.

I'll repost.

To be taken lightly

Here's a section from the film I'm working on right now. It's rough. 

Dig the new locks though. 

Online Videos by Veoh.com

Note to self: always carry a spare oversized t-shirt in case of truck stop

Since my next post is going purely vain and dealing not too subtly with the issues of vanity (it's a clip from my upcoming film/excuse to show off my new haircut) I figure I may as well post a related story. 

I am driving with Ari from Iowa City to Chicago to pick up Ben Rivers (name drop) from his international flight from the UK and we pass by this: 

So naturally we stop. 

Here's the scene: I'm in Iowa (midwest, baby), in the bathroom between the Starbucks and the McDonalds in the largest truck stop in the entire world sporting an ironic punk rock haircut, mini skirt and tights and red, patent leather mary janes.  

I'm standing around surrounded on three sides by mirrors waiting for Ari to finish washing her hands. Naturally, after sanding around for so long I decide to change my look. I'm going to wear my shirt tucked in rather than out from now on and proceed to make the switch. 

"Did I show you my new belt?" 

"Yeah, I saw it last night."

While Ari and I are talking (granted vapidly) a woman tries to squeeze by me and I move out of her way. I don't know why, perhaps it's because I'm standing in the center of a room fill of mirrors, or because I'm in the middle of tucking in my shirt, or because I'm a 23 year old girl, but I happen to glance in the mirror while side stepping around her. 

"Don't worry," The woman (jeans and sneakers) snaps at me,  "you're still pretty and skinny and look like a model. Very lucky." And stomps out.  

Ah! What? Why?

 

I hate discrimination.