shakin' it for some paper

Right about now I think Money Maker is the best song in existence. And every time I turn on the radio hoping it will come up next it totally does which just makes my life each time.



Summaries of a couple important letters:

"Dear Carly
Your portfolio is progressing well, with strong foundations of photographic skills. The photographic work showed strong personal visions. I encourage you to apply at this time. I think you would make a wonderful addition to our community of artists."

"Dear Carly,
Please note that if you follow up with this provisional offer, a further review of your portfolio, essay and resume will not be required.
Congratulations on your successful portfolio review!"

a.k.a. I'm not horribly un-gifted. Not horribly un-gifted at all.


This past weekend was too busy for my liking. We had a four-day weekend because of a teachers' convention, but I spent Thursday and Friday morning at school making (crappy) props for Seussical the Musical.
"Why did we volunteer to do this?" (kyra)
"For a picture in the yearbook. And a t-shirt." (me)
"This sucks" (ky)
"Picture. T-shirt. Picture. T-shirt" (me)
And Wednesday Friday and Saturday nights were spent at Enchanted Forest. Outside. In the freeezing outside. But we got hot appley cider and that makes up for it.

It went late on Saturday and I had the Man House Halloween to go to. So I take everyone home, get gas, go home and change into my costume, and by this time it's almost 11. When I finally get there I see Boosh outside and say hi for a minute, then go inside................... and the lights are off and there's a black light a smoke machine and rap playing. I know THREE people inside. Okay maybe more but only three are people I'm friends with / people I'd expect to be there. It was just the most awkward feeling ever. And I caught Boosh just before she left,then I was by myself, called Bolivia, bailed, and after talking to her for about an hour, I picked her up and we went to Perkins. So the night wasn't horrible.



Through all the changes of everyone I know, one thing remains constant. One feeling that'll probably never go away.

I know I shouldn't hate the fact that things aren't what they used to be because I'm someone who gets bored very easily by routine.

Since last writing in this I'm not a totally different person. I'm still myself, maybe more so.