This lonley world is wasting,

it's time on me. I'm listening to REM after a night of drinking wine with Germans that have never been to Berlin. All that I can think of is the city that made me think of the fact that there is so much more than what is outside of my simple hometown - no outside of this simple Pittsburgh. All that i want to feel right now is the rush of the U-Bahn as it docks at my feet on the way to the next ... entry.

The Birthday Morning/Day/Night

I awoke just after noon with a neat hangover to the sounds of 'America's Next Top Model,' (which I abhor,) and gathered myself together for breakfast.


The scene in Cosi is something for myself and Lady K.

As we sat perched on stylish wooden seats next to the window of swiftly passing yuppies on their lunch hour I took in the fact that I barely knew the girl that took off an honest day's work to make sure that the 20th of July was something to remember. We ate our shitty/overpriced food, (her 'doing surgery' on her tuna sandwich accomplishing nothing but a small smelly bad of fish mixed with cold cheese.) We spent the rest of the day exploring her neighborhood - passing Harry Potter toting adults and sunglass donning vacationers like myself - the highlight being a visit to the Torpedo Factory. I didn't necessarily love a lot of the work, but it was just amazing to see people making money doing something that they loved. It was Studio #224 that was the one to visit.

Then there was the walk to the Mall and sitting on the grass in the sculpture garden listening to jazz and people watching.
The night was a blur of walking, metro, smoking from a bowl very obviously in the middle of Dupont Circle, hitting on the waiter, pissing behind a shrub, and countless other drunk activities, and finally home. Bed. I had successfully turned twenty-two.

Regardless of the fact that I don't have time, I want to make time. I would like to put it all down before I forget. I 'm trying not to forget the best week I think I've ever had.

It started with my flight being delayed out of Pittsburgh for six hours. Normally one is frustrated, irate, any number of negative emotions when a plane is so delayed but I was hanging out with two of the nicest people I've ever met in the bar right next to the gate. A couple vodka tonics, a lemon drop, and a few cheese sticks later I was giggling at the gate as they told us to 'remain patient,' and thanked us for our patience. Once in New York my connecting flight was also delayed.

At the baggage claim my amazing week truly began. Mr. Y sat clutching the latest issue of a popular news magazine. The second he glanced up I got a surge of happiness. I was here! Washington DC! I wasn't in transit any longer and I got to see a friend I hadn't seen in an age.

After the trip into Old Alexandria we met up with Lady K and headed to the nearest bar. I realized I was not longer in the 'Burgh when my first round cost $15.

First came mid-night and then the bar sang 'Happy Birthday.' Next the free shots, the creepy NOVA (Northern Virginia,) boys, the tenth cigarette, and finally a fun stumble home.

I woke up the next day next to Lady K with the best hang over ever and the rest of a beautiful birthday day ahead of me.

More on that later.

The Birthday?

I should be more excited for the vacation. Instead, I sit in front of my best friend, (PowerBook,) and worry over things that I cannot control for the next few days - (the fact that I can't work, can't really spend a lot of money, and can't speak a lick of French.) All these are slightly random I guess but it's late... I'm tired.


Mind you, at nearly four o'clock in the morning on a national holiday there is nothing to do other than continue to listen to the same sad DeVotchKa songs and watching a muted episode of Dawson's Creek on one of the few basic cable channels offered through our humble Comcast subscription.


Happy B-day USA...

I have such an amazing talent to make an ass out of myself it actually astounds me. I'm sitting in my 'living room' on the floor watching 'Home Improvement' on basic cable and remembering in little bursts the stupid things I did last night whilst being very fucked up. Then I start to remember how much I spent last night. Poor bank account.

And only one night's sleep later,

I'm less upset and more wanton. Lashing out is wrong and I should be a nicer and bigger person.

I keep thinking about the winter and how there seems to be fewer problems in general when everything lies in wait for the new year. The snow kills or dissuades the insects from creeping through the cracks in our apartment, it softens steps on the pavement, lessens the chances of being mugged in Garfield, and makes this city look a bit cleaner.

It's that frozen quiet that I miss more than anything. When there's no wind, no one around, and only the sound of your breath/crunchy step in the air. I remember looking around me and finding thing revealed by bare foliage that I hadn't noticed in August and feeling somehow in on something. Fuck that's lame but I miss the cold.

I Get It.

For a woman, your looks last only so long. This is baring lack of funds for cosmetic improvement. The reality is that I smoke heavily and drink like a fish - nut I'm young so I've got a bit before it starts to eat away at me physically or otherwise.

So the true question is, why is dear June left with only the dregs of humanity that want nothing but, "I am still very willing to hang out with you, watch movies, eat food, fool around, whatever, but it would not change that I still do not want it to take on uniquely girlfriend qualities."

To myself and other female friends this reads as, "I'm not that interested but if you feel the need to get laid you know my number."


Apparently I don't try hard enough/too hard. I lack something.



So, this evening I sit at the bar next to a female bulldog in an acceptably slutty tube top and all that I can think is how perfect her life is with her perfectly lame romantic problems that are not problems at all - simply the contents of a very lame episode from a hideous series on MTV - and I think to myself, 'how jealous am I right now?! Ignorance is bliss.'


After the lights came up at the bar and revealed all of us to one another I stumbled towards my bike and rode home thinking that I should be happier about the lack of company. I escaped the parade without being scathed.


(Let us all now have a collective laugh at the pathetic attitude of the heroine and dis wade her from ever posting drunk again.)

The Song Remains The Same.

My return is marked by the Comcast Cable man arriving promptly at 9:15 yesterday morning.

--------------on with it then.

Lyrics to that very emotionally crucial song are never effective when spelled out in front of you. It is imperative that the beat, the adorable raspy voice, all of it must be there in order for the true impact to be made.

Personally, I'm infatuated with the Ladytron track Cease2xist off of Light & Magic, especially the lines: Think, everyone that you've kissed/Do the cease to exist/Once you've stop being missed

But this doesn't mean anything to you until you hear it.

Oh to be eternally despondent and European! Everyone would hate me I'm sure but I would remain unaffected...

The End Is Near!

So, I know for a fact that when you barely post on a blog that no one really reads anyway - people stop reading completely. Why start up again now?

Because Ladies and Gentleman - I'm days from graduating and the announcement cannot go unposted.

Now I have the rest of my life to sit in front of this computer and astound you with my day to day achievements. :)

Over the past few months I have move in and around Pittsburgh living only day to day in the hopes of finishing each week and with each week having one project or another completed. When I wasn't working within the 15289 zip code I was at the bar, (either earning or spending money.) But now this endless cycle is over - over and done with - completed - finished - I mean almost.

Tomorrow I send off three paintings to the Miller Gallery here on campus for the BFA 2007 show and by Friday with the opening reception also comes my one and only deadline between me and the diploma - the Drug Use Drug Policy final.

This is all that is worth writing because this is all that is worth thinking about at the moment. There will be no long drawn out revisiting of my four years here. There will be no 'would of should of could of-ing.' There is no time for that. The rest of the world awaits.

Vernonia Sch. Dist. 47J v. Acton (94-590), 515 U.S. 646 (1995).

(b) The first factor to be considered in determining reasonableness is the nature of the privacy interest on which the search intrudes. Here, the subjects of the Policy are children who have been committed to the temporary custody of the State as schoolmaster; in Page II that capacity, the State may exercise a degree of supervision and control greater than it could exercise over free adults. The requirements that public school children submit to physical examinations and be vaccinated indicate that they have a lesser privacy expectation with regard to medical examinations and procedures than the general population. Student athletes have even less of a legitimate privacy expectation, for an element of communal undress is inherent in athletic participation, and athletes are subject to preseason physical exams and rules regulating their conduct. Pp. 7-11.

for more crap such as this click here.
http://caselaw.lp.findlaw.com/cgi-bin/getcase.pl?friend=nytimes&navby=case&court=us&vol=515&invol=646

The Past Few Weeks,

has been a vicious and tiring cycle of running back and forth from the College of Fine Arts building, to my apartment, then to my place of employment and back to CFA. In the mean time there has been a huge basketball tournement, (my sympathies to all Ohio fans,) Mr. Universe is arrested for being drunk in public, and a young German woman goes a little nuts...

The things you miss when you're too busy to notice.

The Month of February.

As written by Yahoo.com horoscope:

With this month, it's time for you to move beyond a few old habits that have been obstructing your romantic views. Has pessimism been poisoning your perspective, when it comes to romance? Has negativity negated some of your more loving impulses? Are you slightly insecure? Or do you find partners who are insecure and have trouble letting you into their hearts? The 1st and 2nd, it's time to really look at this stuff. Go ahead and keep thinking about it the 3rd and 4th, and by the 5th, 6th and 7th, you'll be in a good spot to make some kind of change. Whether it's a loud change -- like making up or breaking up -- or a quieter change, like shifting your own ideas a little bit, it will have a major impact down the line. The 13th, take a break from all this hard emotional work. Why not go for a jog on the beach? The 17th, check in with a parental figure -- they could have some good advice. By the 24th, you're probably ready to ask them out. Go for it. End the month, the 28th, with something new.

As written by June herself:

Being a cancer is horrible. I'm emotional, sensitive, moody, guarded, bitchy, and difficult to keep up with. This is why at the beginning of the month there were four different 'contenders in the running', but I wasn't looking for a valentines date. I was fine on my own with the occasional free drink supplied by a date that we both knew would go nowhere. Unfortunately someone wound up walking into the bar and tricking me into two weeks of a good time and one of complete confusion and frustration. So now, after realizing how happy I was before the mess I woke up with today I simply want to forget that February ever happened. Let's delete the month. Let's look at March as a longer February do over...

This is what I ask of March, that is doesn't try to act like this:

The 2nd, 3rd and 4th, you could feel like a vaudeville performer who's just gotten out of their straitjacket while locked in a tank full of water using a tiny golden key and their teeth. When it comes to romance, it's like you've emerged, beaming, before an admiring audience as the month starts. Yep, some problem that had been holding you back has just resolved itself, thanks to your nimble underwater moves and clever thinking. Go ahead and take a well-deserved bow -- then the rush to the telephone and call up the object of your romantic attentions right away. The 9th, a whole new, straightjacket-less romantic phase could be starting for you. The 13th, rest up from all these shenanigans. By the 18th, you're ready to examine why you were wearing a romantic straightjacket and getting yourself locked up in a tank filled with water in the first place. The 23rd and 24th, a little self-exploration will go a long way toward helping you understand how you are -- and why you are how you are. The 30th, try accepting something for what it is -- this, you know, can be very romantic!

and instead be filled with a less bullshit.

The Semester Summed Up In One Image

For the two months it has been pulling teeth to put together my Mass Media Project. This is because working with eleven other folks can be great and can be the biggest pain in the ass ever. So here it is, the final image that took too long.



Otherwise, there have been paintings, drawings, papers, other types of deadlines, job fairs, and career adviser meetings. Oh let's not forget the work at the bar. I like to think that Carnegie Mellon is a blend of what's good in life, what's really bad, and what is extra stressful. Nothing to truly report though. Let me know what you all think.

question

as words flow endless into a papercup i am sitting here after another long day and wonder how i made it this far.

with images of broken light running though my brokenbrain i wonder why i let myself wander this far.

but in the end nothing will change in my world right?

It's 1:15.

And I am sitting here again at my trusty computer watching 'The Office' on TV Links, and wishing that I didn't have my public policy class tomorrow. This is not only because I dislike this course but also because I don't want my Senior Project class to happen immediately afterwards.

Mind you I like Senior Project, I just hate having to propose my next project considering it will be over critiqued and changed beyond what it is that I wish to accomplish.

Look at the girl who is never happy with any situation and mock her please.

Death to Public Policy! (or at least those who study it.)

I rant about these folks, only because I know a few and am actually taking a public policy course. Actually I really only have one complaint.

Public policy courses turn some of the most fascinating subject matter into an hour and a half powerpoint presentation chock full of some of the worse slides ever published, (quality wise that is.) Even the interesting articles can't save this one...

The Beginning of the End, (sort of.)

I'm a senior doing the landslide into May. It's the first day of school, (all be it a half day due to Dr. MLK Jr.) and what did I do? Sleep in and not attend my first class and only class today. Why? I'm in denial about being back and this being the last go at a semester at Carnegie Mellon University. This shouldn't be a big deal - but it is.

If I unpack and put everything away, should I set on to campus, if I talk to my professors about this semester - It will kick off the small snow ball that becomes the giant crushing ball of ice that is the Panic of May 20th. Cap and gown must be ordered, the ring must be fitted, the letters of recommendation must be collected, a job must be secured, and I become an alumna.


So I'm living this week like the Devotchka line ringing in my ears and heart"
"We've come a long long way, Let's put it off for one more day,"

Last night I think I had a date, but I'm not sure. Drinks were bought for me, laughter was prevalent, and we were both pretty buzzed by the end of the night. I think though, that my smoking really bothered the poor boy and I need to be more serious about quitting before I go back out there again. I just get nervous and reach for the comfort of a long drag on my Camel Filters. I've never felt more unattractive then noticing his occasional face or hiding his nose from the smoke. It was proabably how I looked as a little girl when my dad smoked in the car.

I've mentioned before that there are no such thing as resolutions and so I'm not making one to quit smoking. Instead I'll take it one day at a time and just not smoke on this day, hoping to not smoke the day after but not concerning myself with that now. Wish me luck.

Late Night Cable Be Damned!

I swear I loath and love that ten minute afterglow after watching any film adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, (this morning's being the most recent adaptation.) I hate the brief childish belief in love and storybook romance, but it is in no way beneath me to giggle and squeal throughout the whole thing. It's just like reading the books... you come away wanting swans in your lake, blossoms in your trees, and a mrs. in front of your new last name. Oh, let's not forget the happily ever after as well!

Ugh, I'm making myself sick.

Ah High School!

It is the greatest motivator of B horror films. Some of my fellow arty outcasts and nerds from AV club gathered their talents and created Tamera, a 2005 horror flick about an 'ugly' nerdy chick who's interest in witchcraft helps her come back from the dead after a prank in a remote hotel room goes wrong. This is every girls dream. To show up one morning, (hopefully not after coming back from the dead,) to blow everyone out of the water with "bangin'" looks and a smart comment for the mean assholes... and yet:
Some annoying clichés that need attention:

All popular people listen to shitty hip-hop and have no real taste in music.
I would like to think that even a real asshole likes something beyond generic one hit wonder hip-hop tracks. I won't go so far as to say they are Mozart scholars, but maybe a little Radiohead or something...

All sports related activities in high school breed asshole bullies.
Everyone has met a prick that became full of himself through other means - not just from being great at sports.

Virgins are nice. Popular girls are sluts.
I've found that it is possible to be quite the opposite. Virgins can be quite cranky for obvious reasons. To be popular I think can also mean that you've never gotten any. Look at the movie Saved! Many Moore and her crew made it quite obvious that they were saving themselves and they were the pissiest chicks in that movie.

English teachers are hot and sensitive.
In the second grade the teaching assistant in my class was hit on by all the single moms. His name rhymed with handsome which wasn't lost on these women. Being only six I wasn't old enough to appreciate this. When I grew older I've never had a hot teacher. Ever. I feel ripped off.

The whole, 'she was ugly - now check out that bod trick,' is getting old.
It would be nice to have a normal looking girl remain normal looking. Not severely ugly to smokin' hot. Not super unfortunate to the pinnacle of success. Just normal... to normal. I can see the benefit symbolically, yet I can't appreciate the underlying message of hotness equals acceptance. It feels good in theory but it's actually quite lame...

That Special Time of Year.

One of the true tests of faith is the willingness to forgive. This is something that I have struggled with more than anything else this year and yet it seems as if I will continue to battle the rage and discomfort brought on by the month of January 2006 for a little bit longer.

I have never made whole hearted resolutions for the new year before. I think it has something to do with the fact that it's bullshit to treat the Roman Calendar's first day as an excuse to change. I will however make an exception this year. This year, I'm going to make a better effort to forgive. I want to forgive all the little things and the big things caused by others and myself. Maybe then the anger and aggressiveness will begin to pass.

The mission behind this electronic log was never to share my thoughts with the world, (ironic right?) - rather to just throw words out into space so that they didn't rot inside of my mind and heart anymore. Now that I'm comfortable with this reckless form of expression I need to become more constructive and start to fix things.

Pittsburgh Photo Essay.

This was done a couple months ago. Many Kudos and Much Credit.

My apartment bathroom.
Fifth and Craig.

Mellon Institute elevator.

Lecture auditorium.

In front.

After an Early Sundown.

I woke up in bed at four in the afternoon today and decided to stay there until close to eight. I must say vacations are wonderful because I really don't feel guilty about this. Honestly the biggest highlight of my day was going to Barnes and Noble to buy another collection of crossword puzzles.

After parking the car I got out to realize I didn't even think of bringing a jacket and secretly thanked global warming for the cool night.

Looking across the lot I noticed that the only people that frequent strip malls at this hour are highschool aged assholes with the inability to get alcohol during their Christmas break. I don't think that I will ever understand what makes people my age and younger feel deviant inside of a bookstore chain. They play Sarah Fucking McGlocklin over the sent of preppy coffee for Christ's sake - there's nothing 'bad ass' about that.

I peered around the usual corners in the store, (new paperback release then on to language reference, turn back and glance at fiction, pass through periodicals and debate for five minutes in games.) After choosing my book I moved through the maze of tables in the cafe and got in line. I took one look behind the counter and decided that coffee would only be a cup of lukewarm disappointment and mentally decided on an americano. It was then I noticed that one of the women in front of me was packing a handgun on her hip. It brought me back to my research about handguns in my attempt to obtain a license for my own. I started to feel as if i looked like I was making a big deal about seeing a woman with a handgun and became frustrated at my possible obviousness - I just was really excited but refrained from bugging this poor woman with questions.

I need to pause now and rant just a little about the employees and customers of Barnes and Noble Cafe. First off, I'm tired of people complaining or not being able to drop the idea that it's not a Starbucks. I believe that B&N really shot themselves in the foot with this one seeing as no matter what state I'm in people always bitch when they find out they can't use their gift cards there, or they don't understand how it isn't a fucking Starbucks. As for the folks on the other side of the counter, part of me feels for them, (after even a week in food service anyone would,) but they are always inept in some way. Maybe I just have a short fuse, but if something is on your menu - if you offer certain options - then don't give me that fucking look when I order a double tall soy vanilla latte or whatever drink item I'm willing to purchase. I've even had a woman roll her eyes at me and I swear I wanted to inject some snarky tone into the moment but no - instead I throw a joke in the tense air as my weakness for the reaction formation defense mechanism calls for.

Anyway.

My intention to go to places like this bookstore cafe is to just get out of the house and really just be alone. I must say though there is something about being alone in public that makes you feel more comfortably isolated than being at home. I sat for an hour and a half working on the first puzzle in my new book and listening to different cell phone rings pierce the bland store soundtrack. It never fails to surprise me when the older gentleman's phone goes off with a very loud cut of a crappy pop tune.

I wasn't really to go home, mainly because I never get use of the Tahoe so I drove to another shopping center close to my house. I don't like AJ Gator's in the least, and I also don't like walking in and immediately laying eyes on someone I know from school. I shuffled to the bar and ordered a Diet Coke hoping that this girl at the end of the bar would continue to focus on her obscenely large portion of nachos and her very preppy looking group of friends and not try to remember who I was.

Since diet Pepsi is not the same as diet Coke I went with a Red Bull and sat there working more on the crossword puzzle and hoping that no one would notice I hadn't come home yet.

By the time I'd left, I found myself actually worried that there was a cop in the parking lot waiting for someone to walk out to their car and ran scenario after scenario through my mind of getting pulled over - after not having a single drop of alcohol.

And so went the night.

One for the Books.

This ability to not get the slightest bit of rest is obnoxious. I won't go into the details of my sleep patterns but let's just say before tonight I hadn't the slightest clue as to the plot of the HBO series Entourage and now I'm more caught up then I should be.
I didn't feel like staying in this evening but I really didn't want to go out. The truth is I couldn't think of anyone I wanted to spend the holiday with - so I spent it by myself. I hate the bullshit of watching the ball drop in New York City, (it's not exciting, I think about the poor idiots freezing in the cold, and I'm not a fan of NYC.) Instead, I was up in my room playing solitaire on my pocketPC and barely noticed the passing of the hour. From 23:58 all of a sudden it's 4:46 and I don't feel like I missed out. I guess my ambivilance is what keeps me from closing my eyes and drifting off as well. It doesn't matter whether I'm awake or asleep.
I will say it was nice to get a few text messages from people. It's nice to think that in some random bar or house party someone will think beyond the cheap box wine and shitty music to connect.

I'm not making any real points here this evening. I feel that my more enlightened moments come to my when I'm far from my computer so I'll wrap this up and hope that sleep will visit soon before I start making breakfast and going on a Starbucks run.