Pro-Procrastination


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State of the Paulina Pt. 2

Paulina is melting – The weather forecast in Dallas has been 108 degrees for the past two weeks, which hasn’t been too bad since I decided the other day to never go outside for the rest of the summer. The best part of not having any air conditioning in my car is that I’ve spent a lot of time bonding with random strangers on the road when I see them with all four windows down, just like me. One guy actually gave us a thumbs-up when Ernesto and I pulled up next to him at a red light. The good news is that next Friday we’re supposed to hit a refreshing 97 degrees!

Paulina can’t stop watching Breaking Bad – UM I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START. I don’t think I’ve been this simultaneously horrified and enthralled by a teledrama since LOST, which is saying a lot considering that Breaking Bad is zero parts magical realism and all parts meth/Mexican drug dealers. And fantastic music, like this scene where they play Tamacun. Also, does Walt look familiar to you? You might have seen him in Malcolm in the Middle..

OR IN DRIVE COSTARRING ALONGSIDE RYAN GOSLING!
Bryan Cranston plays Shannon in Drive, and he worked on the movie in the middle of playing Walt in Breaking Bad. I like to think that there’s a missing Breaking Bad episode out there somewhere that highlights the strained relationship between Walt and Jesse as the former is forced to choose partners. 
Rough storyboard:
 “He’s leaving me for Ryan, isn’t he?”
It’s a character development jackpot. Besides the fabulous connections this show has with Ryan Gozlin’, it also constantly refers to places/names that have been a part of my life for a long time like Tampico and Salamanca. Hearing them tossed around in dialogue while referring to meth and murder is slightly offputting, but I’ll take what I can get. ALSO, Jesse Pinkman’s character and I are both allergic to erythromycin! If that isn’t enough to justify my unhealthy addiction to this show, I don’t know what will. 

Paulina is shocked and appalled– Given that the chances of the Red Sox getting their faces out of their butts in time to make the play-offs are slim to none, Ernesto and I finally admitted that we probably are not going to see a Rangers vs. BoSox baseball game this fall. Then I got really excited about maybe getting tickets to see the girls 2012 gymnastics team perform alongside Nastia Liukin in Dallas. Aaaaaand that’s when I learned that Ernesto doesn’t know who Nastia Liukin is. Um. Our exchange was something like this:

Paulina miraculously hasn’t run out of tears yet – The amount of crying I do for anything Olympics-related is disgusting. It doesn’t even have to be an athletic event, it could just be a Fruit of the Loom commercial with a vague allusion to gymnastics and I guarantee that I will be mopping bucketfuls of my tears away. The amount of crying I did at the opening ceremony ALONE easily quadruples the amount of crying I did when one of my family’s dogs died this year (sorry Buddy.. nothing personal). THE BEST (and by ‘best’ I mean ‘worst’) part of the 3 hour+ opening ceremony was that my family and I spent all of it at Buffalo Wild Wings, where the waitress kept politely asking if everything was alright and I had to pretend to be super interested in my spinach-artichoke dip so she wouldn’t see how red my eyes were from bawling at the tv screens.

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Another Fangirl Post

It feels SO GOOD not having to post that hideous 22b422 logo, oh man. That was one joke that got more than enough stage time. To help my eyes heal from the Wordart, I’ve been playing around with some versions of this week’s SUMO poster. For Drive. The movie that I’m in love with. NBD (but actually..).

Here’s the one that’s actually going up around campus:
And here are the ones I am going to use to paper my living room:

My personal favorite.
I know.. but I couldn’t not make this joke.

Can you spot the subliminal love note?

GEDDIT GLOVE  
Oh man I love my job. 


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22B422 Pt. 11: Other Names for Jelly Beans

I’m so behind on this thing.. get ready for some boring lists.
This one’s dedicated to my favorite kind of chocolate-less Easter candy.


Other Names for Jelly Beans


– Color Chews

– Rainbow Tears

– I Can’t Believe They’re Not Salmon Eggs

– Pretty Pebbles

– Obese Sprinkles

– Edible Barbie Ball Pit

– Lisa Frank’s Every-Flavor Pellets

– Crayon Turds


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I Can’t Believe It’s Not Art

I’ve never gone to an addiction recovery program, but I’ve seen enough episodes of The O.C./Grey’s Anatomy/Arrested Development/other shows featuring well-to-do alcoholics to know that the first step is admitting you have a problem. 
There are a couple of instances throughout this blog where I hint at my obsession with all things food-related, but even I didn’t grasp the extent of my infatuation until recently completing a sculpture assignment that, as it turns out, is the fourth consecutive food-related artwork that I’ve made in the past 2 months.  Below, I give you the artistic manifestations of my troubled, food-addicted subconscious:
Let Cake Eat Them. Felt, thread, zippers. 
Prompt: Make a piece about connection. 
This guy took me 2 weeks to finish, so I spent a looooong time daydreaming about real desserts during the process. 
Putrescence. Satin, Sequins, Thread. 
Prompt: Make your favorite word.
An excerpt from a future art history textbook that will undoubtedly be written about this work: “Much like Picasso went through a depressive Blue Period (or how Van Gogh went through an entire depressive career), this piece sheds some light on the more painful aspects of being in love with anything: having to say goodbye. The juxtaposition of fine materials with forms that reference a clear state of putrescence manifests the artist’s inner struggle at this crossroad; by looking at the piece, the viewer can almost hear the artist whisper to the bowl of fruit, ‘You are beautiful, no matter what they say,’ before tossing it into the dumpster to avoid yet another fruit fly infestation.”

 Concessions at Weitz Cinema. Fake popcorn, fake coke, fake candy bars, fake nachos, fake pretzels. 
Prompt: Make something site-specific. 
I sincerely believe that more people would attend movies at Weitz if they could buy overpriced snacks. I know I’d rather pay $5 for a jumbo box of Sour Patch Kids than for a 2-day old parfait at the Sayles Cafe. (count the rhymes, imma poet)
I Keep On Fallin’. Flannel, Satin.
Prompt: Make something else that’s site-specific.  
It was in the making of this piece (at 2 in the morning while watching Arrested Development) that I realized all of my art was about food.

So now, I’m going to follow in the footsteps of Kirsten Cohen, Chief Webber and Lucille Bluth and weasel my way out of any interventions that threaten to separate me from my one true love.
1. It’s not really a problem to think about food all of the time if food is my muse. Some people get The Dark Lady, some people get Yoko Ono, and I get the food pyramid. Potato/Potahto. (but no one says ‘potahto,’ so more like.. Coupon/Kyoopon)
2. This entire dilemma only exists because I initially denied food the condition of Art with a capital A to begin with. Luckily, people like Marcel Duchamp and Laurence Weiner have paved the road for making Non-Art into Art at my very whim. So.. food, I now declare you to be Art. Which makes my food-related sculptures actually art-related sculptures. Which in turn makes my art self-referential and snooty and fit for inclusion in fine institutions like ARTFORUM and the MoMA! Below, I present you just one of many works of art handcrafted by moi that you now have the privilege of admiring:

Enchilovin’ It?


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Unsung Heroes of 2011

I just thought it’d be nice to give a shout-out to some of 2011’s finest before the novelty of the new year tapers off. The Justin Bieber movie happened. Greek yogurt became a thing. It goes without saying that all of us have a non-sarcastic special place in our hearts for this year’s musical masterpieces, like “Friday” and the entire 21 album (also, I like to think that Rebecca Black and Adele hit it off really well and are planning a secret made-to-dvd movie that will be this decade’s version of “From Justin to Kelly”).

I have my money on 2011 being remembered as the MiddleLopezShian Triple Wedding Megathon. If any Cams majors are reading this and still need an idea for a comps proposal, I have lots of exclusive wedding footage for what could be your career-making E! Hollywood Special on the 2011 Summer Wedding Megathon. I can’t speak for Kate Middleton and Kim Kardashian, but I’d be willing to let you interview me about exactly how much time I spent bawling in a parked car somewhere on Elton Hills Drive the day before the wedding. It might take a little convincing, but I think I could arrange for the three of us to get together and record a sweet R&B single about our collective experience. Kate and I could sing about the joys of marrying up (ha..) and Kim could do a bridge about 2011’s shortest marriage. Deal!

While it’s important to look back and remember the people and events that affected all of us last year, I think it’s my duty to put the spotlight on a couple of memorable people/inanimate objects that made a tremendous difference in my life during 2011. Here’s a countdown:

5. Kwik Trip
A few days ago, Ernesto and I got back to Northfield after spending the day in the cities, and as we were getting out of the car, one of us left the keys in the trunk, locking us out of our car and our apartment at two in the morning. Minnesota has had a mild winter so far, but it’s still super cold at two in the morning. We did the responsible thing and called AAA to send someone down to save us. After AAA told us it would take about half an hour for someone to drive over, we did the important thing and walked to the nearest Kwik Trip, where we bought hot chocolate and a six-pack of Glazers donuts and ate our troubles away. I think I was the one eating my troubles way, and Ernesto just ate a donut to make me feel like less of a gluttonous monster. What a guy. SO this very nice lady at Kwik Trip let us loiter at her gas station for a while and looked away while I stuffed myself with fried dough at 2:30 in the morning, which I think deserves a spot on this list of 2011’s Greatest. A lesser person might say that the real hero of this story is AAA, but AAA didn’t provide free warmth and cheap food when I needed it most.

4. Chicken Wings
I don’t have a neat story to follow up with, just a whole lot of love for the most delicious half-off appetizer option at Applebee’s. That sounds a little product placement-y, but I’m being so sincere right now. I didn’t start liking wings until about a month ago, and they have made me a changed woman.

This is me being a champ and giving myself a thumbs up at BWW after a successful order of Chipotle BBQ wings. Also, it’s hard not to feel like a champ with the awesome manicure my 5-year-old cousin gave me. She got bored after doing my right hand and just left my left-hand nails blank, so I have to constantly hide one hand in a pocket or a mitten to give the illusion of symmetry.

3. Chuck Testa
I watched this video at least five times a day for a week after I first saw it. I could write poetry to you about all the ways I love it. He probably shouldn’t be on this list because he’s already gotten 10 million Youtube hits, but seriously.

2. Stephen King audiobook
The more I read things by Stephen King, the more confident I feel in concluding that 1) he’s probably a jerk, and 2) we would get along super well. He’s from the East Coast, he’s a Red Sox fan, he constantly makes pop culture references, he wrote a book about how to write a book. I use the very brief window I spent in living Massachusetts to claim that I’m from the East Coast, I used to cheer for the Red Sox when I could blame their losses on a cool legend (and even for a few years after they stopped being the underdogs), etc etc etc, we obviously have tons in common. So for me, listening to It on audiobook felt less like faux-reading, and more like having a very long, one-sided, slightly terrifying conversation with my pal, Stephen. Stevie. Stevie-K.

1. Karaoke
Geddit?! Unsung hero?!!! Hold your applause. The truth is, karaoke would probably be better off unsung by me, I haven’t done it any favors this year. BUT BOY DID IT DO ME SOME. I have known four kinds of karaoke throughout 2011, the intricacies of which deserve more attention than I’m willing to give in this already drawn-out post. Let me just say that karaoke has always been here for me during the best of times and the worst of times, and that I believe heaven is just me with a microphone and some lyrics in front of me and a voice that carries like Mariah (this isn’t a list of my proudest accomplishments of 2011, but I just want to sneak in here that I know 100% of the Inspectah Deck and Ol’ Dirty Bastard verses in “Da Mystery of Chessboxin”.. I promise you that it’s impressive).

What did you do to celebrate New Years? Because I kicked in the first twoish hours of 2012 singing karaoke at my house with a bunch of hispanic families and it was the happiest two hours of this year so far. Most of them were in Spanish, but I also did Wham’s “Last Christmas,” which has been sort of a personal fantasy of mine since I was fourteen. In my “Last Christmas” Karaoke Fantasy, I’d envisioned everything to be powder blue and taking place in a mix between a Christmas claymation movie setting and an Old Navy commercial. I’m wearing a very cute cashmere beret while fake snow falls gracefully around me. There’s also a sheepish-looking boy who is either Aaron Carter or Gordo from Lizzie McGuire standing under the claymation trees looking at me sadly, thinking something like “Man, I’m such an idiot, why didn’t I realize she was someone special?” Maybe this started before I was fourteen. Anyway, the real thing didn’t turn out quite like the fantasy I’ve been envisioning since maybe-age-fourteen (but probably more like age ten), but when I closed my eyes and ignored the dull roar of screaming children running around my house, it was close enough.


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Two Things. Also, spoilers.

1. Hey! So it’s winter break, which means that when I’m not sleeping 10 hours a night and listening to Michael Buble’s Christmas album, I’m unearthing diamonds in the rough like this guy (or woman.. ah?!!?):

I AM MRS. NESBITT!

NO WORDS! Coming from someone who has dressed up as Toy Story characters/ props several times (once as the pterodactyl doll from Andy’s room, once as the bowl of Fruit Loops Woody dunks his head into.. don’t worry, I’m looking for the pictures) , I can only say that I have nothing but rock solid admiration and love for this man, who has pulled off the world’s greatest Toy Story costume I’ve ever seen.

2. Also, Grey’s Anatomy remains the single most impressively jaw-dropping teledrama I have ever laid eyes on. I know it sucks when people talk nonstop about TV shows.. but I can’t help it. This show has broken about ten million glass ceilings on what is okay to show on television and how much human suffering viewers are capable of withstanding before taking their eyes out with an ice cream scoop (which is essentially what I would have to do if I wanted to stop watching this show). For example :

The one where Izzy goes crazy and cuts her fiance’s LVAD wire, then spends like week in the bathroom in her prom dress when he dies anyway, then has hallucinations for a year. 
The one where someone shoots McDreamy IN THE HEART.
The episode where two people were impaled with the same pole. Actually. And they were facing each other, so one had to watch the other die as he got pulled off.
Mediocre medical teledramas might draw the line at Stephen King-esque hallucinations or double impalements, but Grey’s Anatomy spares no expense. NO EXPENSE. Which is how they got to episode 18 of season 7 .. the Musical. 

It’s not enough that Dr. Callie Torres and her baby (Dr. Sloane’s baby!)  are about ten minutes away from dying, but everyone has to be singing The Fray’s “How to Save A Life” while they are literally failing to save her life. I don’t know whose idea this was, but I’m making it my duty to:

Step One – Find out who and tell them we need to talk.
Step Two – Say ‘Sit down, it’s just a talk.”
Step Three – Punch them in the face for letting Ellen Pompeo sing at all. Not even The Fray deserves that sort of suffering.. please.
Step Four – Sign over my soul in gratitude for allowing Dr. Sloane to sing a whole half a verse, which I have engraved into my heart for time and all eternity.  I have fallen in love with Mark Sloane about sixty times during this show, and “Let him know that you know best, cause after all you do know best,” makes this the 61st time.


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List of Thoughts I Am Too Lazy To Make Into A Real Post

1. My dad and I got to see Andrea Ledesma in Munich! She and Jörg took the two-hour train from Neumarkt and spent Sunday eating white sausage and seeing impressionist paintings and drinking German punch with us. I tell you this so that you will think we are classy and cultured, when really the opposite is true because my dad and I spent Monday night watching Friends in German. Really it was just me watching Friends with a German phrasebook in hand trying to see what the laughtrack was laughing at while my dad was Skyp(e?)ing with my mom. Other notes about the trip..

–  ABSURDLY expensive internet ($6 euro per hour. PER HOUR!)
– ABSURDLY amazing Michael Jackson altar randomly sitting there on a street. I mean there is some seriously heartfelt fandom going on in Munich. 

The king of Bavaria is no match for the king of pop. 
MJ = Just another part of Munich. 
Speaking of Michael Jackson, this video does a pretty good job of showing exactly what I look like 90% of the time I’m in the kitchen. 

2. The latest Modern Family episode confirmed yet again that Cameron Tucker and I are the exact same person. Exactly. It is mildly terrifying. Even though I’m sure that none of you are in the least bit interested by the freakish similarities between me and TV’s most loveable gay dad, I am taking notes to dedicate a whole post (with actual sentence structure) to this. The jist of it will probably be something along the lines of: Paulina Lopez and Cameron Tucker: Hypersensitive, passive aggressive, believe “the more you spend the more you save,” invest way too much meaning on random events and cry for hours when others do not remember dozens upon dozens of these tiny but meaningful moments, own too many shirts, have an unhealthy relationship with food, etc.  Stay tuned.


3.  Why yes, I did see The Muppet Movie in theatres. Twice. I wouldn’t want to see it a third time because everything about Walter makes me want to punch him in the face. Everything about Kermit makes me want to punch him in the face, too. It’s the same feeling I got from Mickey Mouse, or Tommy from the Rugrats/All Grown Up, or Little Foot from The Land Before Time. There’s something about these characters that makes me feel like I’m being conned.

4. I tried making a list of the top five worst Christmas songs, but all I could come up was Christmas with Weezer, the Christmas album my sister keeps playing around the house.

 I’m into celebrity Christmas albums as much as the next person, but whoever thought that a rock version of O Come All Ye Faithful and O Holy Night would be a good idea is doing the world a disservice.

5. I was going to write something about Herman Cain and Pokemon, but these guys say it best. Needless to say, I was crossing my fingers that he’d quote the ancient prophecy with the clever plot-twisting “ash” pun.