Haven't done this in a while.

( picture dump. )

I just got this email from my Geek Literature professor, Thomas:

BTW: here's a great exchange about CONJOINEDNESS from King of the Hill:


Peggy: The parental bond is extremely strong even if it's not real.

LuAnn: You know, the aunt-niece bond can be even stronger.

Peggy: I think so.

LuAnn: Twin sisters may have the strongest bond.

Peggy: Mmhmm, especially if they're attached at the head. And

           next would be the aunt-niece bond.

LuAnn: Yeah. Strongest would be the aunt-niece attached at the head.

Peggy: Yes. I don't know how that would happen, but yes that would be very,
very strong.



I probably would have failed highschool if I tried to support theory papers with cartoons. HOORAY COLLEGE.

This class is amazing; we sit around and develop awkward crushes on Johnny Eck and John Merrick for three hours. S'great.

Things Jhonen Vasquez told me in a dream last night:

"Stupid is still better than ugly. And my religion is e-stupid."

"Oh, you'll like this movie, it has Marvin Gaye in it; unless you're Marvin Gaye, in which case I expect you'll die at the end." (It was not about Marvin Gaye. It was a crossover of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and West Side Story.)

Then he showed me the rough draft of his Sting/his mom slash fanfic.

At this point, I can blame this ridiculous fever dream [the rest of it was a lot more fucking off-the-wall (including fucking, off the wall.); much like stepping into Squee logic] on the hideous 2/3rds of blueberry cobbler I ate in defiance of god, or the 14-hour nap I took the other night after I switched over to flannel sheets (oh my god it's like crawling into a chinchilla, YOU NEVER WANT TO LEAVE). I am never sleeping that much again, by the way, unless I pull three all-nighters or am sick or am dying or all of the above.

Fuck. Coffee, now.

Dear Japan,

It hurts to see you going through this bounty of hot men from ten thousand miles away. C'mere.

Regards,
H.

After coming back from Where the Wild Things Are and listening to too much Massive Attack, I sketched a bit. Man, sometimes you just have to crap out a pretty-girl drawing, ya know? It's like popping a cyst. Don't be fooled though, friends. These days I must look like a very hungover Beethoven, scaring my roommates by wailing along with Kate Bush at terrible hours of the night and leaving cryptic messages in the bathroom sink.

(it worked.)

The radiator came on this week, and luckily I had moved the pile of dvds I had balanced on top before it went into full blast. It's a tease, however. Twenty minutes of a nice comfortable heat followed by four hours of cold cold toes. The radiator in the kitchen is also leaking water everywhere, god knows why, so we have to call whatshisface-does-all-the-repairs-guy.

I'm going to go do midterms forever.

    

It is now clear what I must do.

General Etiquette:
How To Fight A Duel

Do you know how weird it is, to go into a vampire movie already thirsty, come out of it, go home and drink really thick, syrupy chai followed by two glasses of water?




On par with sitting on the toilet and eating a bar of chocolate, I'd say. Thirst was pretty good, asians do crazy shit, I'm going to bed. Not before I unload my bag for all the comics tomorrow.

All of you will make this. Now.

Courtesy of Lucy Knisely!

"And so, Reverend Lightfoot, Vice-Chancellor of the University calculated the exact day and hour that earth was created by god; October 23, at nine in the morning. Apparently God was a Cambridge man, as this is when their term started for the year."

-Basile, lecturing us on Prehistory. He is so bashful about how few women show up in the 18th and 19th century fields of paleontology and archaeology. He sounded apologetic when he showed the only slide in his presentation that had two notable female figures, and made an explicit point of saying "he or she" for every hypothetical situation. He's also the only history teacher I've had who has had to write out a warning in bold font that tells the class he is a firm believer in evolution, and we will be discussing topics under the assumption that the theory is true. Whee!

Well. I just spent about twenty minutes with a tissue pressed to my palm because I got stupid and curious about this tiiiiiiiiiny red dot that has been on my hand forever. "Perhaps a scab that has not surfaced?" I say. So I picked at it and picked at it and suddenly break the smallest microscopicest hole in my hand, which is followed by a DELUGE of blood. And what do I do? I get my fucking camera. Why is this my first instinct? I thought about it for a bit, and tried to put pressure on the thing, until I saw my camera sitting on my desk and the lightbulb went off.

Oh, and I had to switch over to typography in place of an illustration elective, which I'm becoming alright with. The professor agreed to look over my resume for design flaws, and the assignments are simple enough (because I have the magnificent force of not knowing what the hell I'm doing to take the pressure off) so I can work on getting ready for SPX and comic con. Business cards are needed. Hmm.