August 7, 2009

  • Pretty In Pink

    I'm watching all the eighties teen movies I have in my collection right now out of some sort of memorial to John Hughes. I've realized two things: 1) I am Andie Walsh. That's kind of scary how I've watched myself so many times settle highly emotional arguments by hitting the other person repeatedly on the shoulder and screaming "Just tell me the fucking truth!", and 2) The average artist only has so many memorable pieces of art in their repertoire, and for some reason if they're really worth their salt, they start becoming very notable at age 30. Especially people in film. This somehow gives me hope.
    The registrar's office at Tech hounded me today, wondering when the hell I was going to graduate. Two more classes, two more classes. I've officially been in school nonstop for two decades. Time will tell what I do with this overeducation, though, besides sarcastic replies to taco-consuming customers and seducing nerdy boys with my big, sexy brain.
    I've gotten to the point where I've been so into sewing and thinking about the design of clothes, that I look at a dress or something and I can actually mentally take the garment apart into its basic pattern pieces. Odd thing is, I've been doing this for the simple reason of vanity. I have one of those shapes that most clothes, unless they are very well constructed, hang over poorly. If something isn't cut right, my boobs disappear and my midsection takes on an oddly masculine shape, which disgusts me when I look at pictures of myself. Cheap clothing is not for women with actual curves.