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.

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.

It's Hard to Tell If People Are Actually Reading These...

...But anyways...

I had to attend a Final Cut Pro authorization to get an overnight pass for the Michigan building. It was required for our Film/Video class, however, I didn't see anyone from my class there. Then I hopped on the El and went to Vogue Fabrics to purchase some supplies for my Barbie doll clothes dress.

I also went to Target to buy some Barbie doll clothes. Boy, that was awkward. Then I worked on it. I think it's going to be more of a Barbie doll clothes strapless top by Thursday, if even that.

I feel bored and a little depressed. I talked to my Mom a little bit today. She told me another one of those crackpot stories she always hears at work about how people who live alone in apartments during college become isolated and lonely and stop having friends. This is exactly what I was afraid of, and being in my situation it doesn't look good. You see, I'm kind of in between friends, if that even makes sense. I'm sort of growing apart from this one group of people I've been hanging out with since the beginning of school. They've just sort of been ignoring me. That's why I've been a little shy in taking initiative and asking people to hang out. I'm fearing rejection and that thought of, "Oh my God, do we have to invite Kim-bur-leeee?" and the like. In Madrid it seemed so easy. There's a group (maybe 2) I feel I get along with really well, but the whole social thing is just an enigma to me. I need a how-to book on socialization, preferably written by Demetri Martin.

Anyway, MOVING ON...

Learn some Italian:


UPDATE: In a less poopy mood now and ready to write happier blog posts tomorrow.

Sipping on Cosi, Thinkin' bout Trulli

I arrived about 37 minutes early to Art History so that I can write this blog post and sip on my Cosi cappuccino with a shot of French vanilla.

On my way to Cosi I saw a portly old business man wearing a Mancester scarf. And then on Michigan I saw a middle-aged woman wearing a Liverpool scarf. This kind of sucks because twice in about a 5-minute period I was reminded of this guy I met and had a thing with in Madrid, who was from England. His Facebook stati always mention something about some football match that apparently occurred recently. He poked me on Facebook a few weeks ago just so I could find out that he's finally "in a relationship." What a douche. What a wankah.

Anywho, it's another lazy Wednesday, seeing as I don't really have anything due for Core tomorrow, and just a 1-page proposal for Pun Intended. I have to think of a project I'd do if given $6,000,000 for funding. It's going to be a trullo, which is kind of a little stone or stucco hut that peasants built in the Italian region of Puglia (Cisternino, represent) many centuries ago due to high property taxation. However, I'm going to make it out of bullet-proof glass, furnish the dwelling with highly expensive furniture made to look crappy, and place it in the middle of Little Italy in New York City. In order to enter the trullo, you must claim Italian heritage. Once inside, you (as long as you're Italian) can enjoy a savory, mouth-watering, orgasmic Italian meal that includes my family's kickass sauce (or "gravy", as us real dagos call it.) It has to do with Little Italy's being gobbled up by Chinatown and loss of cutural identification, yadda yadda yadda. More details later.

And did I mention that there's totally a small town near Cisternino called Palmisano?

(Click for detail)