Hideaway.

Even the stars hideaway.

things i have done and things to do.

what i have done today:

1. went to my folklore class

2. took my folklore final

3. had an interview for a study abroad

4. took a test in the testing center

5. finished my american novel paper

6. went to french

7. took my french oral

8. edited my american novel paper

9. researched nuns for my italian renaissance paper

10. turned in my american novel paper

11. went to the class i ta for

12. worked on a powerpoint for my french presentation

13. passed back graded papers

14. had an interview with the bishop

15. watched say anything

what i need to do

1. redraft my italian renaissance paper

2. redraft my italian renaissance paper

3. redraft my italian renaissance paper

my brain wants to burrrrst.

KENDRA

The girls in Avenues 130 are so so ready for the semester to be done. 

Blue Nail Polish.

Yesterday my cute friend told me he liked my nail polish.

Usually this would be normal. When someone says, "I like your nail polish" they're talking about reds and pinks... maybe with an occasional white or black. Fingernail polish is like Valentine's Day: Heavy on the loving colors. But my fingernails are not lovey and cute. They are blue. Like the color of a mood ring.

I'm not sure why they are blue. I just got tired of the whites and the blacks and the reds and the pinks... even the browns, and the orange I tried stained my nails a heinous barf color for weeks. I know blue fingernail polish is ugly, but I like it anyway and I am wearing it like a proud, proud woman and it matches my outfit every single day I wear jeans. I know it's not the norm, but I am not ashamed.

I am not afraid of blue nail polish.

BLAST.

I waited too long to get in the shower and now my roommate is and the water's going to be ankle level. 

Today I put some leftovers down the garbage disposal and NOW the sink is clogged halfway up on both sides. I have problems with disposals.

I also have problems with music. I do not know what I like anymore. Before it was always country or Andrew McMahon or Johnny Cash or Death Cab or Ben Folds or The Submarines or B. Spears or John Mayer or the Yeah Yeah Yeahs or Taylor Swift or some obscure indie band that I probably never knew the full name of. I've put sosososo much money into music. And now I don't want to listen to any of it. Not even Frou Frou or Ben Kweller. Whatev. I'm over it.

I am skipping class.

I am also sitting with wet hair on my bed next to the pile of clothes I need to put on. Why? Because I stayed up after 2 to write a paper due at 8, and I chose not to shower before class even though I have to dress up for an exhibit opening at work in a few hours. Also I need to write a 10-12 page paper for tomorrow at 9:30 am. AND I have another 10-page paper due Friday at 9 am. Did I mention I took a Roman History test last night? This one took me under three hours, but that's only because my hand cramped so bad around the 2 hour mark that I could not do it anymore. OUCH.

My teachers are trying to kill me

OR 

Maybe I just thought I was superwoman when I signed up for my classes.

LifeLifeLife: I love it. But ohmanohman, I need to GET one. Outside of school. And outta work AND outta that old twisted love story. 

Mmmmmhmmmm.

An unknown number is calling right now. 

I'm not going to answer...

SLC.

One of the Great Things

One of the great things about photography is that each photo is a snapshot of time. It doesn't matter who the players are or what they story is: they are forever captured in time with the push of a button. And the fact is, no viewer knows exactly what happens in the lives of the subjects; sometimes the photographer does not even know. When I look at a photograph, I think of what happened in the background. But sometimes I edit them specifically so I won't know what the story is. Like this photo. The faces are cut out purposely and the colors are subdued for nostalgia... not for the couple but for the idea. And when I look at this photo, it's like any story could come from it... and that is the reason I still have it. It's an idea of what was and what could have been, and since this photo is faceless, this couple could be anyone anywhere anytime... any story, any experience. Their identities together and apart are gone: they're just torsos and hands that could belong to anyone anywhere.