a little too sex, lies and videotape

Much earlier today, before I drank three vodka ginger ales with a twist of lemon, nearly got attacked by three raccoons on my way to the dumpster out back, and accidentally slathered my face in hair conditioner in the shower, much before that and my hour of playing fashion runway games on my iphone, I woke around 11 am, earlier than usual, to go to my new school to change my class schedule. When I arrived in Pearl’s office she smiled warmly and then looked at me funny and asked, “We’ve met before haven’t we?” And I assume this is because I’d dyed my hair darker and was wearing a hair piece so it looked thicker and longer than usual. I smiled warmly and said well ofcourse, but she started wheezing and gasping and asked pointedly “Are you wearing perfume?” And I had to admit yes, because I had decided that morning to wear Molinard Vanille and Givenchy Hot Couture, so I was drenched in perfume it couldn’t be denied that this of all days was a fine smelling day for me, and really an all-round fine day in general, what with my heeled slick boots that reminded some of Equestrian riders, and my elegant hairpiece. I was a little amiss from lack of coffee for three days, because usually I swim in the stuff, so out of sorts it took me a moment to gather my things and leave the office. I didn’t realize that that was the only course of action to end the wheezing and gasping, besides opening the window which had been opened for about half a minute before I realized the dire need for me to disappear. I still shuffled slowly out asking, “Well, Um, should I call you, what’s your extension? I’ll just be in the hall then, is that all right?” And just out in the hall by Pearl’s office I called her extension and she directed me with my lottery mini-pencil and the back page of my Seth book to which classes I would need to drop and to add to fix my schedule now that I am excused from that one silly beginning course. Thank goodness, anyone’s grandma could teach themselves Lightroom.
After the perfume allergy incident, I went and bought myself coffee ice cream and a latte. Then I picked up a final from my old school. Three points off for not putting my name on the back of every page. God, I’m not sure it was necessary, but that really miffed me and I was relieved to be transferring schools. It wasn’t about the rate your professor.com, or even my recent mediocre experiences at the old school, it was more just the quicker and more adept transference of mental atoms flickering around in the new school. It was like visiting Berkeley campus in high school after visiting the University of Wyoming. It wasn’t that everyone at UW was an idiot, it was just that the mental energy at UCB was much more intelligent. It is something in the air, and you can’t deny it. The same was true for PNCA. I arrived on the campus, and elite artist snobbery aside, (which is only an impression from all of the sensitive insecure egos, but they sort of dominate Portland anyway), and the mental energy was just a little, no, a lot, sharper than what bubbled, or rather bumbled, around PSU. No offense, it’s just an undeniable fact.
And this energy, this was creative and wild. Completely my kind of neurotic energy! All of the possibilities of what I might create in the next couple of years started brewing around in my head, as I wandered around the Senior BFA exhibits. From the girl who visited all of fifty countries and painted the most interesting experiences, to the video installation of the guy masturbating and the people talking about their sexual fantasies (a little too Sex, Lies and Videotape, don’t you think? Who can beat that subtlety and James Spader, this guy certainly couldn’t…actually this installation eerily reminded me of a similar unexpected run-in with porn in a back room of a museum in Korea. Yes it was an Eros museum, so I should have been prepared, but it was just so blunt for Korea). Aw, blame it on the vodka, the jazz on my stereo, or the freshly conditioned hair and face, but I feel younger this evening than I did this morning. I blame it on the new school.

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