Archive for April, 2009

Being Clean

Being clean is awesome. I’m so glad that Freya and Jennifer made me take a shower today. I feel like a new person—myself. 

Now, back to the darkroom.


Listening to BBC World News in Dark Room

British Reporter: This is blank, a college student in North Carolina. She has been bitten by a bed bug. 


I also heard something crazy about how in Saudi Arabia people are collecting old sewing machines in order to find some mythical chemical called Red Mercury (that can’t be right, can it? I mean, isn’t most mercury red? This is when I get an angry write-ins: “No, it’s fucking cranberry). Some people have apparently got arrested for stock-piling sewing machines in a truck to look for it (“it” is apparently dangerous. So this is not a nice mythical quest, like The Search for Delicious or something). However, these people didn’t even know what they were looking for. They just had a sort of vague hope that they would find something cool. 

This reuters’ article has more—including how people believed cell phones had the capacity to divine for Red Mercury. 

The world is an interesting place, isn’t it?


File:Sailor Merkur 01.jpg

 (This is a picture of Sailor Mercury, which I’m including because to be a real blog I should include more random pictures). 








“I talked to Jeremy on the phone, and he told me that he discovered that he had a very high level of mercury,” Mamet said. “So my understanding is that he is leaving show business to pursue a career as a thermometer.”


I think I have achieved some sort of clairvoyant oracle powers in my thesis-crazy. If you comment on this post and I know you I will sum up your magic powers/potential with a pithy phrase. If I don’t know you and you comment I will divine something from your username. 

Tell your friends.

UPDATE: I’m so touched and please with these comments—especially because half of them are like, yay Rachel will predict my future and the other half are like, do you want to borrow my straightjacket? Which category you fall into says a lot about you. 

I’m about to start a thesis marathon to Saturday afternoon. I’m inhaling the darkroom fumes and waiting for my sibylline powers to gain their full power. Expect answers around 2 am on Friday or something equally grim.

How fantastic is this concept?

Samizdat (Russian: самиздат) was the clandestine copying and distribution of government-suppressed literature or other media in Soviet-bloc countries. Copies were made a few at a time, and those who received a copy would be expected to make more copies.


Sometimes a scream is better than a thesis.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Dispatches from Thesis-goes gaga-land

So Life is strange. Yesterday was strange. I started cracking up from living in my studio and being in the dark photo lab for so long. I would leave meals and whimper, don’t send me back into the dark.

So my world has gone sideways with a subtle half-twist. Of course there were some benefits from this novelty:

My friend asking me to slap him in the middle of the dining hall. I refused. He kept asking, and asking.

Siting in my photo thesis meeting. All the photo girls (all the girls do photography—fuck you male gaze) and talking about going to some bar on friday after we turn in our artist statements. We were discussing what we heard about the bar; its supposed to have a different audience than the bars in our small college town. Our advisor (a man) said he knew the owner in some way. This was cool, but not too unusual because our advisor knows everyone.
Photo girl 1: I hear its a real sausage-fest.
Advisor: No, I don’t think they serve food there.
All photo girls: giggle in a feminine manner.
Advisor turns bright red: I feel uncomfortable now.
Ladies: Titter harder.

Because tittering happens in real life! Tell your friends.

So then I work in the lab for longer. And longer. And then I stop. And other things happen that doesn’t bear (bare?) going into right now. But after dinner I just can’t work. I’m tired and crazy. I go to visit the math-thesis cave (it’s as mystical as it sounds). I see the Religion thesis-er, the done Math thesis-er, and her boyfriend, a Geology thesis-er.
I start laughing for no reason and can’t stop. I remember being convinced for some reason that the Geo-man should turn his thesis in under his drag queen name and looking up different ways of calculating that online. I then go up to do work and fall asleep in the computer lab, then go to sleep in my bed.

I love my bed. Warm covers. Soft pillows. We humanity are really brilliant. Truly.

Wake up late (but not too late). I get up, suit up (leggings and a dress—dark room friendly.) On the way (late) to my morning class (which I can’t miss) I run into a professor.

Prof: I hear art building is flooded.
The student in the scene now hyperventilates.
Prof: The water main broke in the basement. They have to fix it so art building is closed.
Student: I work in the basement. All my prints are on a table, so they are probably okay, right?

As the day wore on, it became clear that the art building is closed. There is no water, electricity or ventilation there right now. It has not flooded where I work, but that rumor persistently keeps popping up. I refuse to believe that is true until it is proven. The building will probably be closed tomorrow. I have gone insane slightly. I can’t tell if this means I have some not-crazy time now, or I’m really fucked. I might get a haircut though.

The Clothes I’ve Been Living In

I’ve been wearing some combination of leggings, flannel snap-button shirt (I think it used to be a boy’s) and a small oatmeal hoodie for the past month along with different t-shirts, dresses, and skirts and boots or converse. Usually my hair is covered with a purple soft beret. There is a reason for this.
1.) My jeans have a strategically devastating hole. Leggings cover my whole leg so I can be OSHA-safe in the darkroom.
2.) Flannel + hoodie is warm enough for the freezing darkroom and peel apart into two layers for perfect fall dressing. Also, the flannel shirt seems impervious to all darkroom chemicals.
3.) Beret = the darkroom is REALLY cold.

So basically I’ve been walking around looking like the stereotypical hipster douche-bag. I realized why people wear this; it reduces the need for showering by SO MUCH.

Today, however, I was walking out in leggings, soft boots, a longish old jean skirt, maroon henley, and the flannel shirt. I pulled out my way too long hair and looked in the mirror in my studio (you didn’t think I was leaving my room did you?) and realized I look like a freak from Freaks and Geeks.

A sort of later day Lindsay Weir. freaks311

Please save me some Daniel Desario. 

A friend of mine was blogging about how Freaks and Geeks has given her a huge crush on Jason Segel because of Nick. I feel kinda the opposite. Nick  brings back that icky feeling of not liking your friend who likes you and is such a great guy, and then you feel guilty. 

The character I’ve always felt the most like was Bill Haverchuck, actually. 


 It’s just that I miss the freedom to look clean-cut some days. To wear tights. A nice cardigan. 

I actually long for the day when I can GET A HAIRCUT. SORRY BOWIE.