iPhone Skin Ideas

I'm making a custom vinyl skin for my iPhone. Since I am not sure which one to get, I've compiled a list of the ones I'd like to make for future reference:

Last Week of Winter Break

I hardly ever update this blog as often as I'd like (though I should, because it would mean actually taking the time to write a whole entry and include complete thoughts.)

Also, I just realized that a few posts ago I criticized Jason Schwartzman for putting his own music on his own show, while I went on about a tumblr I had (for like, 2 days) in which I just posted photo booth pictures of myself. I'm fucking ridiculous.

I've started taking pictures (using good old 35mm film) on my mother's old Nikon camera. So far I've only developed one roll, out of which there's one pretty decent photo of a book sitting next to a window. (Yeah, I'm not looking to take over the world of art photography anytime soon.)

Working on ideas for my zine (no, I never denied that I'm an art student.) I think I'm just going to give a detailed description of places, moments, and moods I'd specifically like to experience. But I'm not quite sure yet. A friend of mine sent me a copy of hers to my Chicago address a few weeks ago, so I suppose I'll take a look at hers when I get back and get inspired.

I'm also really inspired to go to Scandinavia, again. The one MAJOR problem that might keep me from ever going, though, is my freakish aversion to seafood. If I ever go, I'd be tortured by the natives. But their countries are so beautiful in their somewhat stark commonness.

Stockholm, Sweden


I'm led to believe that this is Norway...


Swedish countryside

Prisencolinensinainciusol

Adriano Celetano, an Italian singer/songwriter, wrote and performed this song to sound like fake English back in the 70's:



Let me just say, I love my heritage.

And we're pretty badass dancers.

Dancing

Nobody dances in this country - I mean, really dances. And when they do, it's always about something else - something else besides the pure notion of enjoying and moving your body to the music.

There's the awkward, "ironic" dancing, which many people do either because they want to make fun of the music or contain some belief that letting loose breaks their "cool" somehow. Most of the SAIC parties I attend consist of this kind of dancing, if any dancing occurs at all. Even then, it only seems to be a brief segment during the party, after which most of the attendees continue on drinking and chain-smoking.

That, and the ever-so-popular "grinding." All attention to the beat or the rhthym of the music is thrown out the window, all in exchange to see how long two people can rub up against each other fully clothed before the guy gets a boner. Basically, it's dry-humping in public, but with music in the background. It's not much of an annoyance after high school, but I wouldn't be surprised if there are people who still "grind" well into their 20's.

Lately, I've noticed that, when the rare occasion arises and people actually do begin dancing, I'll often try to dance for real along with them. However, since they're not into it, I always end up looking and feeling incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. So then that makes me an "ironic" dancer, which kind of, indeed, annoys me.

Two Insane, Comedic Performances and New Layout

In case you haven't seen my actual blog in some time, the layout, color scheme, and the banner have changed. No more obnoxiously large photo booth picture of me eating bread in a time warp.

Dressed as a beatnik for Halloween, since my Alex DeLarge costume fell through. (Note: Duct-taping two white belts to the inside of your pants and calling them suspenders isn't as easy as it seems.) We went trick-or-treating for, like, a half hour in Pilsen before we decided to head to this party over in Lakeview. Pretty good fun overall.

Tomorrow we're having another class shoot, this time with a dolly, inside a studio. Hopefully I didn't annoy anyone with my decision to switch from the "homemaker" role to the "pissed off worker" role. Actually, if I did, whatevah.

New favorite movie scene of the moment: Daniel Brühl's performance in 2 Days in Paris. Unfortunately, there is no clip on youtube I could gladly show you, so I'll leave you with a, no doubt, beautiful picture of him as "Lukas" in what was overall kind of a meh film in terms of story:

"I'm a fairy..."

Also saw Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (1971) for the first time on the big screen at the Gene Siskel Film Center. It's better and more appetizing than I remembered.

Two entertaining, comical performances of insane people.

Murderous Children and a Rant about Non-Subversive, Sexist Comedy

Just saw ¿Quíen puede matar a un niño? (1976) or, Who Can Kill a Child?, in English. It's insane, I recommend you watch it to see Spanish children kill adults.



Also had a conversation I've been wanting to have for quite a long time in film class. B (I feel weird using full names in my blog now... for some reason) brought up how someone in his painting class brought in this really exploitative, gratuitous painting of a naked woman bending over, along with a random tit in the corner. He, the painter, apparently wanted to present the naked female figure as "decoration". B was pretty adamant about how he (and, thankfully the rest of the class AND the teacher) disagreed with this student's depiction of women in the painting. Thank gawd -- this gave me hope.

This reminded me of the time someone brought in a drawing for critique in the "comedy" Research Studio last semester. The drawing was as follows: a line drawing of a naked, faceless woman, holding her legs up in the air, with a coin slot for a vagina. Chee-ya. So I expressed my discontent during the critique, and the teacher asks if I think the guy who drew it thinks a woman's vagina is literally a coin slot. My response should have been:

-"Gee, I don't know, has he ever even seen one?"

or,

-What the girl in my film class (the one, who I believe wrote for Second City, or was affiliated with them in one way or another) said. She mentioned how what we laugh at reveals what we truly think in our subconcious...

...Thus, if someone laughs at a drawing of a faceless, naked woman with a coin slot for a vagina, there's a kernel of truth, and sadly enough, odds are, that person subconsciously feels that women can be bought. The "it's funny because it's true" doesn't work in this case because it's not true -- they're stereotypes, and they're certainly not anything new and subversive WHICH IS WHAT COMEDY WAS AND IS MEANT TO BE.

The whole thing kind of distanced me from some people in the Research class, and I definitely felt silenced and a little isolated for the rest of the term, simply for saying I was offended by a line drawing. So it was quite the relief to hear like-mindedness on the situation, instead of the half-witted, apathetic, hipster response on how we shouldn't take sexist jokes and such so seriously because it's supposed to be "ironic". I got a whole 'nother rant on that, but I'll withdraw that and save it for a rainy day.

I also wrote a Feministing article about the line drawing incident, but someone from my class left a comment on it defending the guy who drew it. Weak defense, of course -- s/he said it wasn't a final project and it was supposed to be "lame, bad, ugly" art and we're supposed to laugh at the piece because of that. However, laughing at someone like this, something that degrades half the population using old clichés and stereotypes because you think it's bad is the same as laughing at it because you think it's true.
Rant: done.

Though I feel like I have much more to say...

Notes of Interest

-I started another tumblr called "Photo Booth Photo a Day". It's just me taking one photo booth photo of myself everyday and posting it to tumblr. I might delete it, it's not as cool as I thought it was when I thought of the idea.

-I've returned to Twitter after a long hiatus of not understanding what the f to do with it. However, I still don't understand the appeal of "tweeting" that you're going to Jewell-Osco. At least make it remotely funny/interesting. I save my tweets for something along those lines.

-I'm about to watch "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and "Mad Men". Just another Sunday evening in the Kimcave.

-P.S. Is it just me, or is kind of lame that Jason Schwartzman stars in and sings the theme song to his own show? There's a little too much of his distinctive voice in a short period of time, in my opinion. E G O E X P L O S I O N . . .

-Here are the two photo booth photos I've posted so far on that one tumblr account:

Vass-evah

I'm over it.

Knittin' 'n Learnin' German

It's about that time of year again -- that time when I buy some yarn and knit 1/2 of a scarf for 2 weeks until I get bored with it. I went to Loopy Yarns today after Screenwriting class to get some supplies. The ladies there are, well, loopy.

Downloaded some "Learn German" podcasts as well. They. Are. Bizarre. My first two "lessons" involved simply "listening to the sound of the German language" and "relaxing" to long, drawn-out musical interludes. So far I can say "This is a song by Claus Hoffman." And all the other stuff Americans tend to pick up as they go along.

Tomorrow I meet with someone at Berlitz for a language learning consultation to figure out which German class I would be best suited for. If I pick up on it as fast as I did Spanish, then maybe I'll be able to constantly skip ahead to the next level. (FUN FACT: I skipped a year of Spanish in high school. Just sayin'.)

(Click to enlarge)

Ok, I'm looking at this graph, trying not to get too cocky, trying not to tell myself that I'll complete levels 1-6 in 20 lessons each.

Notes of Interest

-We watched this video in puppet class yesterday. A French theatre company called Royal de Luxe constructed these massive puppets to walk across Berlin and meet at the Bradenburg Gate. It's in celebration of the 20th anniversary of German Unification. WATCH IT! It is breathtaking if you imagine yourself there. (I'd post pictures, but I can't decide which ones to put up -- it's that crazygood.)

-Saw Was nützt die Liebe in Gedanken or Love in Thoughts, as we'd say in Americaland. Also highly recommend this, as it is good, available instant on Netflix, and contains (semi-) nude Brühl.

-The past few days have been very, well, German. I'm constantly thinking of where I'd like to study abroad next year, and London seems like the most doable in terms of having a film program that teaches in a language I understand. The other places my school has an exchange deal with are Weimar and Berlin, and apparently the Berlin one is one of the best for film. However, I don't know German, and attending that school requires that I speak and understand it. Lately, due to my very German days, I have a feeling that I'd be able to get a good grip on the German language. Whether I could be fluent by Fall 2010, that's a tricky subject. Damnit, Madrid, why can't you have an outstanding film program that has an exchange deal with my prestigious art school?

-Went to MAC today, the cosmetics store. Got some concealer for the droopy droopy purple bags under my eyes (thanks, Italian genes!) and a very dark green eyeliner with speckles of gold in it to bring out the green in my round-ish, hazel eyes.

Was nützt die Liebe in Gedanken (2004)

That's all for now. I'm about to go on Etsy. Might return with pictures of the crap I bought, a.k.a. the source of my buyer's remorse.

This Morning's Flashback: An Emotional Rant

I had another mini-flashback this morning. In case you don't know, I tend to suffer from these small, abrupt flashbacks, usually stemming from really emotional moments I've had. But this one was somewhat startling, mainly because it involved someone who I really like, but have been really confused about. It's a long and complicated story, but, in essense, I can't decide whether I should "let him go/forget about him" or keep him in mind and continue to like him.

This dilemma developed after he decided he couldn't be in a relationship quite yet after a pretty messy break-up, from what I can gather. However, I often get pissed because he's ditched me on several occasions to hang out, hasn't paid me back the money I lent him, and hardly ever responds to any message I send him, be it on AIM or Facebook (I guess I can understand the last one, but, come on, he borrowed $25 from me two months ago and hasn't paid me back even a cent.)

But recently I fucked things up. A few nights ago I had a few too many beers, and I think I might have blacked out for the first time. From what I can tell, I sent some angry instant messages to him, basically saying, "Since you aren't replying to these [obviously catty] messages then I guess that means you're trying to ignore me" yadda yadda yadda. He sent an im the next day reading, "wow ok", and that's when I discovered the big fuck-up. I frantically sent him back messages saying, "fuck, I don't even remember sending those, I'm sooooo sorry I don't really mean that", etc. He just responded, "ok." Of course, it's a pretty ambiguous response, and tone is so hard to read via AI fucking M. I asked him what he meant, but he still hasn't responded.

Anyway, back to this morning's flashback. So I'm feeling pretty shitty, like most mornings. And then I had a flashback from the time we first met. We were at this party in Roger's Park, sometime this past December. We went outside and sat on the wooden staircase coming down from the deck outside this apartment. It was nighttime, of course, and it was snowing. We're both a little drunk, but sober or not, I gotta say it was a pretty magical setting. We started on this deep conversation, one mostly brought about by him. He was talking about how he has a fear of a flying. I distinctly recalled this portion of the conversation:

Him: What are you afraid of?
Me: I don't know... maybe... not being liked.
Him: Well, I like you.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. It sounded like something straight from a John Hughes film, which is what we were gushing about earlier that night, and how we "connected", I suppose. I thought about how it go to this point: how we went from this happy little place to him thinking I'm a total psycho. I guess he has a right to think so, I mean, those messages did make me look like a crazy person. But right now I'm just hoping to move on, see what else is out there.

If any of you have read up to this point, I say to you, in the words of Samantha Baker in Sixteen Candles: "It's really human of you to listen to all my bullshit."

Bolex Projects

Went to Lincoln Park Zoo today for Film as Capture to get acquainted with the Bolex camera, much like we did in Media Practices: Moving Image. Only this time we didn't have to film BOTH a video and a film version of it, and we had a much better idea of what the hell we were doing. We shot: flamingos, warthogs, giraffes, a bear, and zebras. We tried to shoot these funny-looking, spastic monkeys, but, being spastic, they scurried away before we could film.

Also unlike last time, I walk away actually knowing how to read a light meter. Turns out it wasn't even complicated to begin with - friggin Media Practices teachers complicated it. Just like they did our first film assignment, where we were using the Bolex for THE FIRST TIME yet still had to shoot on friggin video, too.

Bamboozled is coming in from Netflix sometime soon - a movie shot entirely on mini DV video cameras...

Puppet Show and Pete Campbell

Didn't wake up until 1-ish today. It was definitely one of those nights when the longer you sleep, the more tired you get. Luckily, I was able to rouse myself in time to make it to Links Hall, where I helped set up a one-man puppet show performed by my puppet teacher. Another girl from my puppet class was there and we ended up circling Wrigleyville searching for a place to fill an air tank. But before that we helped put together these insanely thrifty yet awesome stage pieces. And then I also had to run to Walgreens to buy some black eyeliner, cold cream, and chap stick.

The show, called "Hard Headed Heart", was amazing. It was a series of three segments, beginning with a very comedic Spanish Punch and Judy type sketch with hand puppets. Loved that stage piece -- it was sort of janky and reminded me of Splash Mountain. The second was a musical piece with marionettes called "St. James Infirmary", based on the poem. There was puppet sex in that one. The last was a shadow puppet interpretation of "13 Different Ways of Looking at a Blackbird", which was quite inspiring. Would make for, perhaps, the greatest opening credit sequence in a film. "Mad Men" this week certainly improved from last week. But that mainly might have to do with me seeing Pete Campbell (a.k.a. the dashing GQMF below) shirtless:

You devilish little weasel, you. Treat me like a German au pair and getinmypantscoughcough.

Blehk, I've got a paper due Tuesday. There goes my Monday.

9 Problems

I guess the last few posts (minus the puppet ones) make this blog my bitchin' blog: my blog for bitchin' & rantin'. In spirit, I am going to list 9 problems of mine:

1. Paper due Tuesday
2. Presentation due Tuesday
3. Need to make two 3-D objects, even though my construction skills are equivalent to that of a 3-year-old
4. Need to find a new crowd to hang with (Decided to "start fresh" this year by essentially eliminating asshole-y people from my life, yadda yadda yadda)
5. Bored as fuck
6. Would rather be overseas
7. Complicated situation with a member of the opposite sex
8. There's a crack in my kitchen ceiling
9. Want to delete Facebook account, but it's regaining its appeal right after I send out the message telling everyone I'm deleting it.

Bitch.

I Been Tumblin'

I've been doing most of my bloggin' on tumblr lately, mainly because the material you use for posts/entries are so readily available and easy to obtain. Not to mention, motivating. For instance, I saw this dumbass graphic/picture:


And "reblogged" it, adding a commentary I kinda feel proud of:

"Ok, let’s backtrack…

Polanski is a great filmmaker and all, but he drugged and raped a 13-year-old girl.

I admire a great film, no doubt, but making a great film isn’t a “Get out of jail free” card when you have drugged and raped a 13-year-old girl.

Michael Vick is still widely hated for having dog fights, but for some reason Polanski’s crime is still widely defended based simply on the fact that he made Chinatown. In my own personal version of Dante’s Inferno, dog fighting and raping children are in the same circle of Hell.

People, start learning how to separate art from real life."

(Or at least come to the realization that you're giving rape culture just another little push into the mainstream - again.)

Nothing to hold up against the Gettysburg Address, but ya know.

My tumblr, by the way, is here.

Puppets Bring Happiness #7

Yes, this is Kermit the Frog performing "Once in a Lifetime" by Talking Heads.

I find it funny that they used stocks photos in the background. Even the Jim Henson company's keepin' a tight budget.

Crusty Old Used Book Stores

Yesterday I went to Myopic Books, a used book store just off the Damen stop on the blue line. Yes, in the heart of Hipster Park. It was nice, cozy, musty, and probably ridden with mold in every corner, just the way I like my used book stores. It reminded me a lot of the Book Loft back in German Village, back in Columbus. It also, surprisingly enough, reminded me of a bookstore in Madrid that only sold books on film. It was glorious.

I purchased:

-The screenplay for The Royal Tenenbaums (it would be a nice guide for my screenwriting class this Fall)
-A book from 1977 about Swedish film (mainly for the design of the front cover, I'll admit)
-A biography on Walt Disney (meh, could contain some interesting little fun facts)
-A book on the cinema of Almodóvar (it's about time, Kimberly)
-A book in Spanish called Guardian Devil (whatevs)

Old Live Journal/Xanga/MySpace

I just re-discovered my old live journal account from the summer between 8th and 9th grade. It's pretty embarrassing/hilarious -- I was pretty much the Michael Scott of adolescent girls.

But what is, perhaps, more entertaining yet harder to read is my old xanga. Definitely more than 9 entries there, and a better example of teenage angst/attempts at songwriting/obsession with The White Stripes.

I've lately been feeling nostalgic for my early high school years. I still believe it was the second most hellish period of my life, but, yeah, you know. I also checked out my old myspace. I had some pretty interesting photos on there, such as this one:

Still so proud of it.

Puppets Bring Happiness #6

"Good source of riboflavin."