Posts Tagged ‘ boarding school ’

forgotten but not quite dead.

Listening to: Say Hello To The Angels — Interpol

Holla! I realize that I’ve been gone for quite awhile. But recently (or more-than-recently, as it would seem) my life has been Busy. Since my last post nearly a month ago, several Events occurred: Prize Night, at which I was awarded my school’s prize for excellence in photography (and a copy of Vanity Fair: The Portraits, which is mostly why this was the most notable of the three awards I received), and graduation, where a great number — maybe even a majority — of my friends gradu-danced off to that Big Boarding School in the Sky, also known as college.

More importantly, though, I squeezed through finals week with minimal injury and even got to leave campus a day early. On my first day back in the Midwest, I managed to get rearended at the grocery store/sent to the ER/saddled with whiplash, which sucks. But what doesn’t suck is my drawing class, which met for the first time last Wednesday and which is where I discovered that compressed charcoal is very, very, mess. What also doesn’t suck is the fact that my summer dance classes start this coming week, even if buying ballet shoes made me feel like an elephant (I wear a 14 women’s ballet shoe; the girl trying on shoes next to me wore a 2.5/3). And, for the first time in my life, I have an actual job, which means that I’ll be making $200 in a month or less and all without working in foodservice or manual labor.

And, of course, since I’ve gotten home, I’ve been taking photographs. Here are a bunch:

Of course, there’s far more, but the WordPress Dashboard isn’t cooperating with me uploading photos at the moment. Blé’s gone to Poland, so I’m out of my primary model for the moment, but luckily I have far more willing friends here than at boarding school. So, hopefully, I will write soon, and there will be more photos to come.

we’re only seven miles from the sun.

Listening to: The Antlers — French Exit

dancers backstage at the concert.

So, I’m back on WordPress after whoknowshowlong, and suddenly my dashboard looks all different and I’m like, “Oh no, did the Rapture hit the interwebs?” If you couldn’t tell from that statement, I’m not a big fan of changes to my routine.

But oh oh oh, how my routine is going to change! There are only about five days until graduation, so after that the only two people left in my hallway will be me and my roommate. And speaking of roommates, tonight’s roomdraw, aka where all of the underformers line up in order of GPA/room score and pick their rooms for next year. I’ve decided I’m getting a single, because living with someone whom I never see/talk to makes me paranoid.

This past week has been rather busy. We had the spring dance concert, in which we were covered in clay and dancing in the round, which were both very different experiences for both the dancers and the audience. I still have clay in awkward places (inner lining of my ear, wtf?), and now I’m sad because yesterday was the last performance we’d ever have on that stage (it’s getting renovated) with those dancers (most are graduating) under that choreographer (she’s resigning). But I’m excited for dancing this summer (modern and ballet), especially seeing as it’s only a few days away.

There’s more that I wanted to say here, but I’m not yet quite sure to word it. Please hold.

the photo-stalker stalks again.

Listening to: Laura Marling — New Romantic

Long time no see, eh? It’s been busy busy busy up in here, now that the school year is coming to a close. There was AP Week (submitting my portfolio = a hassle) and track meets and dance (not to mention registering for my summer modern and ballet and drawing courses). The spring play starts tonight, and the dance show opens tomorrow next week.

But, of course, I wouldn’t return to you without photos. Of which I have many, from the aforementioned track meets and warm spring nights. So, voilà: here is a selection of the two LC-A+ rolls I just received from the camera store.

this is a post; I feel compelled to post.

Listening to: Brett Dennen — Surprise, Surprise

Ahhh Easter everyone. I failed to get up at eight and go to church this morning, furthering my failure at being Catholic.

This has been the longest week all year, and now I’m sitting here and realizing that the year’s almost over and I haven’t gotten anywhere. Maybe that’s a lie. I asked two boys to model for me for the first time ever; the first was awkwardish and tense, as I’d expected, but the second was really fun because my model was really fun/ a photographer himself. I would show these photos to you, but I still have to obtain consent to do so.

Lately I’ve been spending all my online-time on my tumblr, which is one of myriad reasons why posts on here have been so infrequent. My (though not sincerest) apologies. I’ve also been somewhat busy, procrastinating all of my real-life duties by attempting to have a social life, and dealing with the horrors that come with that. There are only a few more weeks of dealing with this, though, then three months of drawing classes and freedom and vitamin D-rehab.

how can I catch up when I don’t want to?

Listening to: The XX — Night Time

Well well well. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? The past week’s been so busy that I’m not quite sure what to write about here. I could write about anxiety attacks and stupid people and how I keep getting other people’s underwear returned with my drycleaning. Or, I could write about how my dad came down to visit me this weekend and brought me very small notebooks and chocolate pastilles and Doublemint gum, or how I and a handful of the AP art students had an exhibit on Thursday. I could even tell you about how I’ve lost all feeling in my toes because I stood in the freezing rain for three hours, timing a track meet.

But I don’t really feel like talking about any of that in detail. Instead, I would like you to know that I found a lost roll of film in my drawer and got it developed yesterday. So, please attempt to enjoy a super-grainy section of my roll of forgotten film.

existential crises of communication.

Listening to: Modest Mouse — Perpetual Motion Machine

First, something superficial: the #1 taboo of boarding school roommates is to never match. Usually, my roommate and I — two people with completely different styles and different wardrobes — avoid this pretty well. Until yesterday when, having not seen each other until first period math, we realized, horrified that we were both wearing the exact same dress (which I was going to link to, but apparently it’s no longer on forever 21′s website), with gray sweaters and black boots. The boots and sweater part wasn’t so bad, since I wear black boots and/or a gray sweater about 75% of the time, but the situation was rather awkward, and made even more so by the fact that the two of us aren’t really close as in “matching-buddies” close. Or at all, really. Crisis (and English class, God) was averted by my roommate’s decision to get changed between classes, which was only fair because I got dressed first. But what was ironic was that we were talking about probability in class, and we’d just figured out that the probability of one person with three shirts, skirts and pairs of shoes running out of distinct outfits was almost infinitesimal.

Okay. Superficiality out. I guess I’ll have to talk about my spiffy new shoes at some later time.

Something you may or may not have inferred about me is that I have a deep love of modernist architecture, especially of the glass-walled open-spaces neighbor-irritating variety. I’d live in one of said houses if I hadn’t already decided that I’m living in a minimalist loft/studio/penthouse. So recently I’ve been thinking about architecture as my Future Plan, since I’d be able to marry art/design and science and get to Create Stuff. The only snag here is that I can only draw diagonal lines, not horizontal or vertical ones, which might not be such a problem if I’m going to be all modern and such.

Also, the dance troupe has just been alerted that our upcoming performance is going to be black box-style, which is both cool and intimidating. One of the sections of the piece we’re working on is to Yael Naim’s cover of “Toxic”, which is a really good cover of a questionable song except that it ends in pan-fluting. The dance itself is this half-burlesque half-broken doll/clown/ballerina doll clown type thing, which actually looks a lot better than whatever the hell I just described. We practiced it yesterday in tutus, except that my tutu was actually a crinoline so it was rather difficult to roll around the floor in. Today I will have to act fast and take one of the normal tutus, so I don’t spend the entire practice hiking up my skirt.

Speaking of dances, though, this coming lack-of-weekend is going to be party central around here. Friday’s our previously Winter, but postponed until Spring Formal, which is awkward because there’s still school the next day. But Saturday, there’s a GSA-hosted interschool dance somewhere else, so by Sunday I expect that my feet will be quite sore. Last year I was even more socially awkward than I am this year, and so dances of all kinds were rather uncomfortable for me (I was dragged along, nevertheless, by my dear friend the Hungarian), but I’m determined to make them better this time around.

I have so much awkward free time right now that I’m procrastinating my procrastination. I’m actually starting to resent it, it and the uncomfortable rain that hasn’t got the memo to STOP ALREADY.

the angst cat.

Listening to: Camera Obscura — You Told A Lie

As my math teacher would say, So Happy It’s Thursday (if you get that, you’re a winner). I have bags under my eyes, even though I slept soundly last night — and I’m one of those people who doesn’t get bags under my eyes, even if I don’t sleep at all. And of course I didn’t realize that lilac eyeshadow would only make those bags more noticeable about halfway through dance today. I’m in an especially stabby mood — so much so that I avoided the dining hall and opted to have Coke Zero and too many dark chocolate chips for dinner — and I’ve half a mind to pull a Mariella and take some prittstick and glue my lips together.

But it isn’t all bad. Yesterday was my birthday, which could’ve gone exponentially worse if I hadn’t been wearing the most awesome underwear in the universe (trust me, it’s pretty epic). My friend/potential roommate down the hall threw a ramen party, which was fun and strange and involved her and her/our other two friends, who are all also Korean, marveling at how large my hands/feet/eyes/body in general are. It made me feel kind of special, but also self-conscious. Also yesterday it was warm, which was nice and allowed me to wear short-shorts even though I didn’t leave my dorm after 3pm. Tomorrow it’s “supposed” (read: it better not), and it’s my school’s Revisit Day, and the only bright side is that, due to the special scheduling, my day ends at 10:45 am.

I can’t wait until Sunday. It feels like over the past few days, I’ve been wanting to shoot myself in the face but only managed to shoot myself in the foot instead.

landings & returnings.

Listening to: Suzanne Vega — World Before Colombus

Break is over, too soon. Now I am unpacked and sitting alone in my dorm room, drowsy on Dramamine because when planes land I break into a nervous sweat. Tomorrow is class and then more class for two more months, and it’s only just starting to sink into my head that I’m back at school, I’m back at school and I have to work and learn and wake up before midday Finally, after what felt like an eternity of carpal tunnel syndrome, I’ve finished typing the sequel to my novel (which I have yet to tell you where I’ve posted it), but before I did that, Blé and I took a screech appreciation moment to enjoy the early-spring weather that somehow feels like fall.

sometimes a lie is the best thing.

Listening to: Evanescence — Lithium

It’s been nearly a week, so you people have got me feeling like I owe you something. (Have you been checking out The Ridiculous Things Store, like I asked? As I said, it’s stocked more often.) This week has been the longest week of my life, no lie, even longer than preseason at the beginning of the school year. The payoff is near, though: Saturday morning I’m getting on a plane to Middle of Nowhere, USA, and getting out of here. I’m already beginning to have flight anxiety: Where am I going to put my cameras? And my lenses? (Did I mention that my dad left with my backpack when he came to visit, so for the past week I’ve been pack-less?) What about flying with unexposed film, for crying out loud?

I’m really twitchy right now. Might be from drinking diner coffee this morning, might be burgeoning spring fever. All I know is, I’ve been trying to find NyQuil all week and all I’ve found so far is 1) potheads who tell me drugs are bad 2) generic-brand Advil 3) stronger drugs that I value my health/(semblance of) sanity/scholarship too much to accept. Not to mention, shit’s expensive (or so I’ve heard). But turtles don’t do drugs, my dear readers: hugs, not drugs. (But you must understand the boundaries of “personal space” and the definition of “bad touch”.)

As you can probably tell by my excess of parentheses, I’m kind of lacking the focus to write a blog post at the moment. I also have a really annoying crick/warm spot in the center of my back, so if anyone knows how to make it go away, it would be muchly appreciated.

your genius is showing.

Listening to: Sade — Jezebel

Yes, I am the educated type of person who makes Spongebob references. Mind me not.

So, everyone, as of now I am pretty much mentally on spring break. I have no “real” classes next week — it’s a relaxation/”alternative learning” week we have before we’re actually allowed to leave — and tomorrow, well, tomorrow’s a Saturday. It should technically be a weekend. Tonight’s the winter dance recital, so I’m alsopretty psyched to be — successfully! — lifting my partner and not dropping her in front of the entire school and my dad, who’s driving down from Canada to see me.

Today I nearly failed a class for the entire marking period. And by “failed” I mean got a zero. In Photography. How did this happen, you wonder? I have an issue with uploading my photos to the school’s network. So, even though I may show them in printed form or on my computer screen, I never actually turn anything in. You see how we have a problem, no? Well, today in the middle of lunch he told me he was going to fail me if I didn’t upload my latest portfolio (last time I tried, the computer stalled and refused to take less than seven hours to do the job) by the end of the period. I spent the next half an hour having a veritable nervous breakdown until one of my much-more-logical friends suggested that, instead of uploading my seventy photos file-by-file, I make a zipped folder of the portfolio and upload that instead. And somehow, after I’d closed every program my computer was running, plugged it in, and put the battery on high performance mode, it managed to upload them with fifteen minutes to spare. Cue relief. My GPA was just saved from making a full two-point crash.

In other, less cataclysmic news, today I spent awhile skulking about with a few of the lax bros in my class. They’re all pretty fun (and rather welcoming to me, the Nerdy Artsy Black Chick), though the number of times I heard the words “fuck” and “bro” was staggering. I finished editing the fourth chapter of my novel and posted it; though I’m still conflicted about telling you all where it’s at on these interwebs (sorry!). But according to the Matrix, which I finished watching in class today, it doesn’t matter because your memory of reading it would be false, anyway.

There is no blog post.

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