bad day.

My brother, Tom, fell in love with this small, striped, jacket when he was in high school. He found it at the D.I. and bought it with hopes that a future son would wear it. Only one out of his 4 children is male, and the moment the picture above was shot is the longest Tom ever got him to wear it.
For some reason, I love this story. I love that Tom was the kind of person who bought an item of childrens' clothing while he was still in high school and that Sam (his son) doesn't get how great that is (yet.)

And, on a smaller, and somewhat cheesier level, it also demonstrates how life never goes as planned.

Yes, I'm admitting that today was a bad one. I never admit this. I announced to the kid that I gave a ride to tonight at 8:57 pm that "this is as grumpy as I get."

I have a whole list of reasons to be grumpy: They're all tangled in one mess of having offish hormones, being in the same building staring at a computer screen for 14 hours, having developed a new rash around my eyes, money, deadlines, being a Spanish moron, relationship issues, strange advice...

But in all honesty, this is the first bad day I've had since one other bad day I can remember from the summertime. That's still pretty lucky.

I'm also headed to California tomorrow for another vacation where I'll be until Monday. That's pretty lucky too.

the harris fine arts center.

I cannot stand the sexism of this building.
The floor where I reside for at least 8 hrs. everyday has one men's bathroom. The closest women's bathroom is down 2 flights of stairs where there are 4 tiny stalls that are usually a little untidy from overuse. Right next to that bathroom, across from the drinking fountain, lies another men's bathroom.

The reason this astounds me is because %70 of the Visual Arts department is composed of females. Usually you have to wait in line, navigate your way through large portfolios perched against the wall, and be careful not to bump the girls lined up in front of the mirror fixing their makeup in order to use the facilities at all.

Every once and a while, you'll see a male enter or exit the bathroom next door.

It just seems ironic that I'm supposed to learn about effective design here all day long. I always think about it as I'm making the trip downstairs to the bathroom.

finished.

proof...

1. That I can sit on a hard floor and make myself concentrate on something I really don't want to do.
2. That I spend most of my life in the HFAC.

this is me?

Today as I'm heading toward the bathroom in the HFAC a girl stops me.
"I bet you get this all the time, but you look just like Julie Andrews."
"...No, I don't actually, but... uh, thanks. Like, Sound of Music Julie Andrews?"
"Yeah, with the short hair and her bright blue eyes. . . I can't even think of another movie she's in right now."

I'm not sure what to think, but I'll confess I briefly considered growing my hair. ( I think Mike Alger also said something about me looking like Julie once... that makes 2...)