Beam me up, PLEASE.

Okay, so my family went and saw the new Star Trek movie the other day. And it was great in the way all J.J. Abrams movies are - I walked out going, "I didn't actually notice if that movie had any substance because it was a MOVIE!"  You know what I mean?  Super 8 was the same way.  I get overwhelmed by the movie-ness of it all.  

But! Because my dad is, apparently, a big nerd, we immediately went home and watched The Wrath of Kahn. (Which incidentally was like watching paint dry after the BANG EXPLOSION BIG SHIP WOW! of Star Trek: Into Darkness.) And then after that we had to watch the first Star Trek episode where Khan was introduced.  And it was...

Well, you know, cheesy as heck - but also AMAZING and MAGICAL.  LOOK AT THAT COLOR!!!!  Every color palette I do for a good while is going to be based on this.  I'm dead serious. I hope I can figure out a way to replicate that Technicolor gloriousness. Thank you thank you thank you dad.

I do have some questions though.

Why do the shields of the ship never seem to do much? And why do they always fail? Someone's always yelling, "Shields at 14 percent, captain!"  WHY on ships that big do things like the engine room or the bridge seem so ludicrously vulnerable??  The first hit from enemy guns always takes out like half of the incidental people in the bridge.  And guys who work in the engine room must have a life expectancy of like 25 years. And WHY are things like life support for the bridge so easy for the bad guys to hit with their guns? What is taking up all this extra space in these ships? Mini golf ranges for when they get bored? Or, like, tons of red shirted engine workers all in suspended animation to be awoken when they need to be replenished?  I don't understand.

But, in closing - a story.

Once my uncle Craig was chatting with a mexican compadre about Star Trek, and he said to the guy, "Have you noticed something about Star Trek, man?  There are no Mexicans.  YOUR RACE IS DOOMED!!!"

Time

I'm imagining some kind of exercise video of people in 80's suits waving business cards around while the leader shouts, "Network! Network!"

Sorry for all the SUPER SERIOUS ULTRA DEEP posts here, my handful of readers.  I've had a lot on my mind.

I'm trying to figure life things out.  Success has been moderate. I have a hard time ever coming to solid conclusions about anything.  However, there is one thing I know for certain:

Self-promotion is kind of awful.  As a person who wants to have an "arts" career, it's an unfortunate necessity.  You have to be known to a certain degree to get work.  But there's an interesting balance between doing self-promotion for work and doing it for pleasure and doing it just to be self-centered.  And since I'm beginning to truly understand the value of my time, it seemed like a thing worth considering.

I have always written this blog (and all my other dead blogs) purely for my own pleasure.  I never expected followers or anything to come of it.  Granted, for a while I lost some of the pleasure of blogging and it has become less natural for me lately. But my intentions have always been, I think, about as pure as intentions can really be.

Self promotion for work is another thing.  It's necessary, yes - but it also seems somewhat insincere.  I don't think people are fooled by 100% commercially motivated "sharing."  I don't want to do it anyways.  It sounds boring.

Totally self-centered social media stuff makes me tired.  There's a girl I'm friends with on Facebook who posts an ENDLESS stream of selfies.  I'm trying not to give into the temptation to un-friend her, but I admit I am hard pressed.

However, I think I know how I can self-promote - heck, how I can do work in general! - that isn't pointless drivel.

Things for a cause.  There are so many things that I care about, so many people I want to help - yet I am perpetually stumped as to how to do so. But about five minutes ago I thought, "DUH! Use the skills you're learning in school! Instead of just drawing pictures for practice, draw pictures of people you want the world to know more about!  Make posters for great causes! Send drawings to people who you think are doing great things for the world, to let them know you're thankful!"

Peace

I've changed so much this year.  I look through old blog posts, and some of them seem like they were written by a stranger who was very, VERY concerned with her inability to decide what to study in college.

If I could have given a graduation speech to my 18-year-old self, this is what I would have said:

You will never feel ready.

You never get to this place where all of a sudden it dawns on you that you're ready to be married or choose a career.  No lightbulb goes off.  You don't suddenly think, "Ah! I have reached a place of maturity that signifies that I am ready to date!" and go out and find someone ASAP.  There does not come a day when you officially feel like an adult. It won't happen.

What will happen, however, is that when you hit a wall and have to truly decide - not in theory, but in reality - you will realize very quickly whether you're ready or not.  When Craig came into my life, I though I was still not ready to be dating, but it turned out I was ready to date Craig.  You can't make generalized decisions about things before their time.  Because when you get right down to it, there will always be things you didn't foresee.  Life truly has to be taken one day at a time. You have to trust le bon Dieu to take care of you, and not give you choices you can't make.

The only way to find out if you like something is to try.

(I still have trouble following this.)  If you think you really want to do something, you can't just sit around waiting for opportunities to fall into your lap.  Break down the goal into steps.  What can you do now to take a step towards your goal?  Do it.  And if you find you don't like it, make a new goal.

Don't defer happiness.

If you are not enjoying your life, you need to re-evaluate.  If the journey you are on is one that isn't at least a little bit fun, then what is the point?  Deferring happiness, slogging through acres of unpleasantness while telling yourself someday it will all pay off and everything will be perfect, is also known as wasting your life.  Because it won't be perfect.  Nothing ever is.  So you ought to snatch the happiness you can have now.  Enjoy your work! Cherish your relationships! Don't waste time in self-loathing or depression. Seize the day! Make your life extraordinary.

There's punch and cookies in the lobby for everyone.  Thanks for listening.

I don't want to jinx it...

But I think spring is finally here.   Everyone's cars are tinted yellow because of the pollen, and it's perpetually creeping in under doors and dusting windowsills. Dad left the door open the other day, and tons of it got on Carly's piano. Which I thought was funny, but I don't think she particularly appreciated it.

Mom has all of a sudden gone green!  She's checked out books on home-made cleaning solutions and skincare, and she's planting seeds. Dad built planting beds and a compost bin out of wood scraps, and the new official goal is to have only recycling and compost - no trash at all.

In a moment of expansion, she said she also wanted a goat to trim the lawn, but she's recanted that.  Which I think is probably a good thing, though it would have been marvelously entertaining to see how a goat and our dog and cats took to each other.   I think it would have chased us, which would have been fun.

Another reason to go green - you get the most adorable soap ever. 

I, for one, am all for these measures.   I'm always game for her adventures and schemes.  She says we would have been good hippy roommates.  Really, I just go along with anything she suggests.  I fought hard by her side in the war of "to buy or not buy a microwave" when we moved to Arkansas, because she is afraid of the "rays" they put out. I mainly fought against it because all microwaves are ugly and they cook your food in a weird way. Sadly, we lost that fight.

Employment History

1.  Childcare worker at my church
I got that job when I was 15 and a half.  I learned that, if I ever had children - which I wouldn't - they would never even know Dora the Explorer existed.

2. Gift-basket assembler
This seasonal job mainly consisted of very precisely taping boxes of crackers against each other.  I was introduced - thanks to damaged boxes that couldn't be used in the gift baskets - to the wonders of chocolate-covered caramel corn.  C.C. Winkle, baby.  Look it up.

3. Precinct walker
I had this job for, if I remember rightly, two weeks.  It involved going door to door and talking to people about a local proposition that I couldn't even vote for, as I lived in a different district.  I quit after realizing I was making less than three dollars an hour. I spent all my money at California Pizza Kitchen, and ate the entire pizza myself.

4. Cookie store
A remarkably stressful job, considering I peddled baked goods that had the word "hogs" written on them.

5. Anthropologie
I was technically employed for 2 days.  I realized I would never possess the drive to look cute every day and chickened out.

6. Hobby Lobby
A peculiar big-box retail store.  I bought a black santa that is clothed in cheetah prints instead of the typical red garb, a statue of an enormously fat pig with an American flag draped over its back, and a vase that looks like it's made out of cabbage leaves, and other such wonderful things at disgustingly cheap prices.  That's probably the best thing I can say about it.

7. Music Dept.
For a summer I worked as a front-desk person at my school's music department.  Meaning I played facebook at my school's music department.

8. Art assitantship
Perhaps the most varied job I've ever had - one day I take spray paint labels onto cabinets in the illustration classroom, the next I am scanning my teacher's family pictures.  People had some spectacular glasses in the fifties.

9. Bottled water label designer
I started this week.  So far, so good.  I design and print personalized labels for water bottles for things like banks and baby showers.  You wouldn't think personalized water bottles would be a thing, but apparently they are.  It's a fun job, really.  I get to be creative and make my own hours and I can eat snacks at my desk. You wouldn't believe how nice it is to get to eat when you're hungry while working.  And I get a comfy chair.  And more than minimum wage.  I could get used to this.

When I am old I'd like to be able to constantly surprise my children by suddenly chiming in in a conversation with, "No, when you're in a circus it isn't like that." Or, "When I was assistant to the princess of Sweden I tried escargot."

I'm beginning to think that, as far as jobs go, I could end up nearly anywhere.  Though, as my mother once told me, "I think you can do anything.  Except be a jockey."

(I'm 5'10)

from the Bauhaus to MY house, please.

Be honest now.  If you could have your tea in a teapot like that, wouldn't you feel like the future had finally come?  That you could just step outside and jet-pack on over to your friend's house for a chat?

I would.

Oh yes.

My school used to be called Little Rock University - or, more commonly "Last Resort University." However, if anyone still thinks that the re-named University of Arkansas at Little Rock is only a school for the dumb and/or desperate, think again.

WE HAVE THIS.