I spend a lot of time

– daydreaming about baking cookies with the fake vanilla extract I bought two weeks ago.

– trying to wash the printmaking ink out of the corners of my fingernails, failing, and looking like my hands just came out of a zombie movie.

– listening to “Set Fire to the Rain” on the radio, as in hearing it four times on three (THREE) different radio stations during the 45 minute drive from Nofo to Roch.

– trying to convince myself that saying “Nofo” and “Roch” doesn’t make me sound like a tool.

– pretending to be Ryan Gosling from “Drive” whenever I’m driving to Rochester/Northfield/Cub Foods. The ice cold fear that starts running through my veins whenever I have to make a left turn probably isn’t very similar to the fear Ryan Gosling’s character (who doesn’t have a name, fyi, if you haven’t seen the movie, in which case I feel so bad for you because that movie is basically the fuel that keeps me running day after day, and not even because it stars Ryan Gozlin’ but because it is a work of Capital-A-Art, and I can say that without the least bit of contempt or cynicism. Was that long enough of a run-on fragment for you? Sometimes I think that the fond, fond memory I have of watching that movie in Dallas with Ernesto probably accounts for 80ish percent of the reason I want to move to Texas.) what was I saying before? I’m aware that my adventurous left-turns in rural Minnesota – the kind without a green arrow at the intersection – are not exactly up to par with Ryan Gosling’s mind-blowing escapades (LITERALLY) (you could hear brains actually squelching/splashing onto the walls) (P.S. spoilers.. sorry). But pretending to be Driver makes me feel elated, so I do it all the time.

– reminding myself that I need a haircut, then remembering that I don’t want to spend fifteen bucks to walk out of Cost Cutters looking exactly the same as when I walked in, then aimlessly browsing DIY haircut tutorials on Youtube until I get distracted by better Youtube things.

– feeling depressed that all the people I admire are probably jerks.

– wishing there could be a bookmark for my audiobook on iTunes so that I could occasionally take a breaks and listen to music without losing my place, then the plot, then the book, then I swear.

– listening to Josh Ritter and trying to rearrange my organs so that more of me could be filled up with his music.

– catching myself about to quote someone’s blog, then realizing it would probably be creepy if they knew I even read their blog because we’re in that weird limbo between being fringe acquaintances (where the other person probably doesn’t remember that we had that one conversation at that one event) and actual acquaintances (where I nod at the other person on my way to class and pretend I didn’t just read their really dumb contribution to Carleton Facebook Memes). Do you have a blog? I probably read it. And pretend I don’t read it by self-censoring myself whenever I want to reference it.

– saying I want to make this blog look sexier, but in a dignified way. Like, Meryl Streep sexy. Just kidding. I know she’s the Lara Croft of actresses, but Doubt totally obliterated any chance of my finding Meryl Streep sexy. I haven’t ever played Tomb Raider, but every life-size cardboard cutout I’ve seen walking by Gamestop leads me to assume that Lara Croft is the most unstoppable human force the world has ever known. Probably accurate.

Shameless Copypasta

Courtesy of Randall Munroe. 

NOW INVENT AN IMPOSSIBLE-TO-TRANSLATE LANGUAGE AND USE IT TO TELL US WHERE THE MONEY IS. This comic just made my day. 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 🙂 <– can you tell? My art history education has never paid off so much.  I feel like I have to write other things or this post is going to be too tumblr-y. Saturday night, my family and I ate at Canadian Honker, where the Robert Coats band was playing live music. Just before we left, they played the CatDog theme song (!!), to which Francisco and I sang along flawlessly. My brief exposure to Cartoon Network has never paid off so much.  There are also few choice words I have to say about Pinterest, but I’ll probably hold onto that for next term’s non-fiction workshop. sTaY tUnEd! peace

Adventures in Interviewing Myself

It is a typical February afternoon here in Northfield, MN. The floor of Paulina Lopez’s studio in Boliou ( the neglected warehouse that functions as Carleton College’s art building) is covered in newsprint, chalk dust, plastic curlies from her relief blocks and the Death Blanket that she made last week for Advanced Sculpture. Much like Bill Watterson’s Calvin might spread his peas around his dinner plate to make it seem like he has been eating, Paulina has spent the last 8 weeks of Winter Term spreading her crap around her studio space to give the appearance of passionate art-making. Is it working? Why doesn’t she just work on comps instead of writing about comps? Will she ever finish the “It” audiobook she’s been listening to since last year? The answers to these questions and more are revealed in this exclusive interview.

Paulina 1: Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet. As I’m sure you’re aware, I’m running out of ways to put off my ever-increasing mountain of homework, and this interview has just made that so much easier. 


Paulina 2: I’m happy to oblige.

P1: Let’s get down to business, shall we? Tell me, how exactly does it feel to be done with the GRE?

P2: I’m so glad you asked. It feels GREat. .. I’ve been sitting on that one ever since I walked out of the Prometric place at Edina/Eden Prarie (what’s the difference, right?) but I didn’t want to say it until I got my scores back and could say with a fair level of surety that I wouldn’t be retaking it soon. WHICH I WILL NOT BE DOING. BECAUSE I GOT MY SCORES TODAY AND BOY DOES PASSING BY WITH BARELY ABOVE GROUND COLORS FEEL GOOD.    ..Wouldn’t you aGREe?

P1: How many more terrible GRE puns do you have?

P2: I could only think of those two. Forgive me, I was too busy recovering from all the PEMDAS review to go crazy with the wordplay this time. Sooo anyway, I’m done with the GRE. Booyah. .. I bet you’re GREen with envy. (Sorry, I just thought of that one now.)

P1: Are there any other recent accomplishments you want to share?


P2: Oh man, YES. I recently found out that Carrie Underwood and Colbie Caillat are two different people. Who’da thought? (not sure whether I spelled that right) But seriously, consider my paradigm shifted. All this time, I’d been skipping over Carrie’s tracks in Pandora because I thought she’d be singing about cute bubbly gingerbread dreams or whatever the actual Colbie Caillat sings about. Two weeks ago I was off my game (thank the lord) and “Before He Cheats” started playing before I saw Carrie’s name on the computer screen. Have you heard that song?!

P1: Well, it came out in 2007, so.. 

P2: I know, I’m still recovering from the fact that I’ve gone 5ish years (yeah GRE math!) without knowing this song. It could’ve come in handy for all those times I wanted to ruin someone’s pretty little souped up 4-wheel drive! Which add up to about zero, because Mark Irish’s twenty year old Explorer wasn’t pretty or souped up, and besides, the only car I’ve ever envisioned beating to death belonged to the Northgate Driving School during my second (and last) practice driving hour in eleventh grade and wasn’t pretty, souped up, or a 4 wheel drive. It was one of those cars built with an extra set of brakes in the shotgun seat, which I’d always assumed were fake and just there to give the student driver a reassuring sense of security. Speaking from personal experience, I can assure you that the extra brakes are actually very, very functional.

 No, but I was actually really impressed with myself for knowing what a Louisville Slugger is when Carrie mentioned it in the chorus. I’ve gone to the Louisville Slugger museum/factory, so I think I’d know exactly how to use it on a couple of headlights. And I still owe Northgate four practice driving hours, soooooo you know.

P1: I still don’t get how you could think Colbie Caillat and Carrie Underwood were the same person.. 


P2: Don’t get judgy, anyone could’ve made the same mistake. They’re both blonde. They both play guitar.. I think. Anyway, the good news isn’t over yet! Because apart from discovering “Before He Cheats,” I also learned that Carrie Underwood is the voice behind “Jesus Take The Wheel,” which I have loved half-sarcastically, half-sincerely ever since Karen K. showed it to our seminary class in 9th grade.


P1: Any other music-related accomplishments? 


P2: Duh. Well, no. This next one isn’t an accomplishment as much as it is an opinion.. but here goes. The Spanish version of Shakira’s “Rabiosa” is way better than the English version with Pitbull. I KNOW, WHAT?


P1: But it has Pitbull!

P2: I knoooow but trust me, the non-Pitbull one is better. It may have something to do with the music video, which is the same for both versions and doesn’t show Pitbull at all, so you’re just watching Shakira flirt with this guy who is obviously not Pitbull while Pitbull is singing seductively.. it’s weird. Like, bad weird, not freakyhawt weird.

P1: Tell a little bit about your position on the Carleton College Memes FB page.

P2: I was totally for this page before it existed, because I was tired of hearing crickets whenever I browsed month-old post after month-old post on r/carletoncollege. I thought, “Oh, a Facebook memes page will be so much more dynamic and colorful and fun.” I had envisioned people investing as much energy into the page as they do writing incoherent, unfunny CLAP articles every Friday, only it would be even better because Facebook wouldn’t have an 11 pm submission deadline OR pile up on my coffee table each week. I hadn’t, however, envisioned 75% of the memes being THE SAME CONDESCENDING WONKA STOLAF JOKE. So.. back to r/carletoncollege it is. Which isn’t so bad, really, because that’s where this nugget of truth resides.

P1: What has been your most empowering experience in the past few weeks?

P2: You mean other than memorizing the “Before He Cheats” lyrics and singing it for two hours straight while I hammered away at advanced sculpture stuff? It’s hard to get more empowering than that. Buuuuut there was that moment last Sunday afternoon during a church potluck when this 6 year-old kid named Connor maniacally piled my fruit salad onto his plate while yelling “This is my favorite thing EVERRR!” Talk about a self-confidence booster. Never mind the fact that 10 minutes later, I saw him telling a cherry pie, “Ooooh, Connor likes what he sees. Connor’s gonna eat you all up.” First of all, talking to food in third person shouldn’t be so stigmatized. Secondly, Connor didn’t say Cherry Pie was his favorite thing ever, so I’d like to think I still have that special place in his heart.


P1: This has certainly been enlightening. Any last words before checking out?

P2: You mean something that will bring inspiration, personal growth, love and/or happiness to people’s everyday lives? Well, I’d like to second searchquotes.com in saying that you can’t go wrong with any Young Money quotes. 16 out of the 29 inspirational Young Money quotes are all from Bed Rock, so you know that’s promising. BUT if you’re still skeptical, feel free to peruse this other source of inspiration/personal growth/etc. YOU’RE WELCOME.

Sad Timez

Well, February has wasted no time in becoming the most depressing, soul-sucking month of my life since the time my brother RUINED Harry Potter 5 for me when I was a quarter into the book, and I had to go through the next 400 pages knowing that Sirius was just gonna die and that Harry would never have a family. Yes, it was horrible. Yes, I got my revenge by telling him that Dumbledore dies in Book 6. No, I don’t regret it for a second.

So February was shaping up to be a fantaaastic time right after the Ebony show, which I will write about later. I was actually planning a whole post about Ebony and dance at Carleton College, which was completely thrown on the back burner when Mike Freaking Kelley killed himself. Of all the art majors at Carleton, I’m probably one of the least informed or passionate about contemporary artists, mainly because I spend my free time having karaoke contests with Ernesto to see which one of us is better at Nickelback’s “How You Remind Me” instead of watching Art21 or whatever good art students do. You’ll understand, then, that it is a Big Deal for me to go out of my way and fall in love (actually) with someone’s work. I was first introduced to Mike Kelley’s work when I saw “More Love Hours Than Can Ever Be Repaid” at the Walker Art Museum’s Spectacular of Vernacular show about a year ago, and later when I came across “Educational Complex.”

 Since then, I’ve written essays and a powerpoint about Kelley because his work largely informed my comps (my senior major thesis project that is currently sucking up all of my time, energy and belief in happiness), so I should be able to write a sentence about why this guy’s work impacts me so profoundly, but honestly I just want to wallow in sadness while listening to “I Will Always Love You.”

… YOU KNEW THIS WAS COMING. Whitney Houston is gone. Before any of you bring up the fact that Etta James ALSO died and I didn’t write an incoherent, whiney blog post about that fantastic black singer whose music I seriously wanted to mashup for Da Wedding, let me point out that unlike Etta James, Whitney Houston has been a part of my family since 1992, when my dad got a some sort of cassette-playing alarm clock that would play “I Will Always Love You” at 6:30 a.m. every morning for an entire year. I loved Whitney Houston before I knew what she was singing about. That song is practically engraved into my eardrum. AND there is the fact that I spent the last two weeks of fall term writing a comparative paper about the role of Whitney Houston’s music in the book and film versions of “Waiting to Exhale.” Remember? The paper also provided some insightful insight into the steamy relationship between Whitney’s character and the guy from Allstate commercials.. this is one of the (many) (MANY) scenes I memorized after watching the movie 4 times (seriously). You know, for academic purposes.

You’ll be disappointed to hear that because of Whitney’s unexpected death, they’ve had to cancel the promising Waiting to Exhale sequel.

Let me ask you this. Is it a coincidence that Mike Kelley and Whitney Houston died after the groundbreaking scholarship I produced about them?

I
think
not.

So, this is a public service announcement that the following individuals should consider themselves in danger of death, having recently been the subjects of Paulina’s homework: Adam Brody, Rachel Bilson, Katrin Sigurdadottir, Bill Clinton and Lauren DiCioccio.