Monday, January 25, 2010

Oh, stress.

How lovely it can be. I attended National Portfolio Day at Ringling College of Art and Design on Sunday, and that ended up being lovely. My stress had been building up and extended way beyond anything truly possible, but after the positive reviews I recieved everything got just a tad better.

But then, oh no, I go and find two more schools that I want to apply to (California College of the Arts and the San Francisco Art Institute). Grr. I have spent all day today filling out the applications for the first and submitting my portfolio, convincing my teachers that I need more copies of those much-needed recommendation letters, and all that fun stuff. Tomorrow shall be spent doing the same for the latter.

Wish me luck? <3

Saturday, January 16, 2010


Once again the one that counts is the one not counted, and I become the mean and irritable bitch everyone adores. “All praise Jesus!” and fuck off, because I’m not dealing with your imaginary friend. You people make my veins want to pop out of my skin. You make my blood run fiery hot, attempting to boil and burn your pointless thoughts through my insides.

You dis-fucking-gust me. You think you know your shit, and of course I think I know mine, but the bottom line is neither of us does. Or anyone else in this shithole we call earth for that matter. We are all mindless children of this god-fucked universe. We are nothing. Except for perhaps James Franco because he is beautiful. Truly, he is.

But now, to the real topic: the base of my unneeded essay which I must write to satisfy my hunger for, whatever.

People: Alive, dead, running, screaming, shitting, whatever else comes to mind. They are absolutely fascinating. They are assholes, saints, sinners, lovers, friends, parents, children of someone or something, givers, takers, abusers. There is at least one detail about each of us, of you, that makes us special. Different. Stand out, negatively or positively. Remember that.

Monday, January 4, 2010


people and their haircuts, and clothes, and purse dogs, and heels they can't walk in but still do. These people: Are they real? Do they have thoughts and hopes and dreams? Sometimes I doubt that they do... but they must right? Don't we all? We are certainly taught to...

Sunday, January 3, 2010

FML New "Charlene" Del Sol Work Rules

1. No visible piercings.
2. No visible tattoos.
3. No music is to be played except for music approved by Charlene.
4. Do not clock in more than 5 minutes before your shift starts.
5. Clock out if eating except when given permission not to.
6. Only work scheduled shift unless the have the approval to switch with someone else from Charlene.
7. When customers are in store- do not discuss anything other than our merchandise and store with another employee.
8. Spend most time outside and selling clothing.
9. You must wear a Del Sol shirt to work.
10. Charlene is in charge of all store operations. Call her prior to calling Michael or Lisa (bosses) about the store.
11. It does not matter who rings up a sale on your shift- we are a team- all sales count as team sales.
12. If you take a water please finish it before taking another one.

Now whatever, some of these rules were necessary, but others are definitely not! I've worked at Del Sol for 2 years and piercings have never been a problem... three of us have visible piercings, and no one has ever complained about them. Ever. Now for the music thing, we are not allowed to play our iPods but we are allowed to play Charlene's, which is filled with heavy metal. Does that make sense? I think not. Clocking out when eating? Half of the time that we work we are at the store by ourselves, therefore when we eat we're still working. So what, we're supposed to clock out, clock in when a customer walks in, and then clock back out when we go back to eating? Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh. As for rule 11, that could not be further from the truth. We all know that the sales that we make are checked up on, even though we don't recieve commision.

All these corporate rules... they're bullshit. I applied at the job because of how laid back it was, and all of a sudden this monster comes along and ruins everything? And I'm not alone here! No one is happy with this ridiculous corporate rule-ness Charlene crap. Since we have corporate rules, shouldn't we at least get corporate benefits? Like getting breaks? Or discounts on the merchandise? Or sorry, these are "Charlene's Rules". So maybe we should get "Charlene Benefits", like being able to bring our entire houses into the back room. She has it overflowing with her stuff- hairspray, vitamins, hard-boiled eggs, clothing, tangerines, dirty dishes. It's irritating.

Anyway, end rant.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

To-Do Life List

1. Go to Miami- clubbing and beach
2. Visit all must-see cities in Europe
3. Get a pack of black unflitered Gitanes (preferably in France)
4. See Radiohead live
5. Go on a road trip around the U.S.A.
6. Buy a pair of Jimmy Choos
7. Get more tattoos on torso
8. Work for a magazine such as V -or- Start my own magazine
9. Meet someone that looks like James Dean
10. Fall in love
11. Get a motorcycle license and drive a purple Vespa
12. Go tagging
13. Make my own clothes and screenprint
14. Learn to sew
15. Meet a boy that won't bore me
16. Dye my hair electric blue
17. Get a 6-pack (ab-wise)
18. Make a huge collage on a wall
19. Keep my best friends after high school
20. Be more laid back
21. Be happy
22. Quit smoking before I turn 25
23. Get enough scholarships to go to college
24. Live in New York City or San Francisco
25. Grow my hair out until it's long enough to tie

Friday, January 1, 2010

Waiting on Tal-Yuh Once Again

I was outside in my driveway, sitting cross-legged and smoking a marlboro smooth (100), and I thought: You look like a helicopter. But not to anyone in particular, just like a random thing someone would say to another person. How in the world could someone ever look like a damned helicopter? Am I insane? I don't even really know what a helicopter looks like! Well, I mean, I do... But, a HELICOPTER? Really? It's certainly fun to say, but there's no way someone could look like that...

Unless they were wearing one of those weird helicopter-hat things.