cool creative stuff.

So there's this band that put very strict guidelines on their work, and the results are cool. Check it out. Mother's Basement.

AI MAMA. i need to change my profile picture on here. it's from last winter when i was so nuts with dorm fever that i went blond. Never. Again. As you can see from the picture, Impending Doom had booty shorts among their merch. And yes, those are men wearing them.


potty humor at music festivals.
You want to know what's amusing? Cram seven people in a Biffy, close the door and don't lock it. Then when someone opens the door, all of you stare at them. This is funniest if you wait outside and observe. Mix it up. Sometimes you can all fall out on top of them. or just file out. Or two of you can pretend to deal drugs.

Of course then the Sonshine security guy opens the door. He thought it was funny once it was explained.
A seventh grade sense of humor? now why would you say that.

There was also this dude in very tight purple pants whom we observed going into the biffy in one place. Nothing out of the ordinary. Then five minutes later, when we had switched potty locations, he was there again, going into the biffy. Bathroom deja-vu.

One evening when we were sitting on the wall in HM, this fellow walks by dressed like a pirate. He looks at us, points, says "you, man, you!" in a squeaky voice and walks on.

ohhkay.

the man wearing the skirt made me homesick for the West Bank, and people-watching there. I did not get a picture of him, unfortunately.
so long.
-Gyp

THE......porchsitters. of edgcumbe and juliet to be precise.

here we sit, Sarah and I, the sun killing our skin cells in a very pleasant manner, while knitting allows us to watch the street parade.

On the corner of Edgcumbe and Juliet, this means observing a world full of baby strollers and shirtless thirteen-year-old skaters, a world where leaving your puppy's poo on the communal grass is a very naughty act.

A man walks by with an ancient German shepherd. how long, i wonder, has he owned that dog? what has the dog seen? He'll never tell.

A girl walks by, twitching and smiling to herself, motioning and muttering. She's maybe twelve. She breaks into a sprint for about ten yards, her stringy, waist-length blond hair spreading behind her. I look askance at first as she circles the block. what the heck? then my conscience reminds me of my own extreme introversion and shyness as a kid. She is wrapped warmly in her own imaginings. Whether they are an escape from some private, unpleasant reality or just the amusements of a solitary girl I'll likely never know.


There is this one fellow who is always swinging. Not the fifteen minute stint of most kids, but hours of rhythmic flying, earbuds snug in his ears, long, straight brown hair dancing with his swinging.

I rather envied him the first time I observed the swinging. I should like to know what he listens to. Many a pleasant hour of my own existence has been spent alone, absorbing soundwaves while knitting, drawing, biking nowhere in particular at night. (Mom hated that.) it can look like the darkly anti-social habits of an unlikeable kid, when really it's just the untangling of knots. Mental twists and turns bleeding out your ears as the music thuds in.

More power to you, swing kid. Listen on.

thus go the long, delicious days of the porchsitters.

-Gyp

i sit here in McNeal Hall.
the computer lab is brightly lit, but in the darkened halls the only illumination comes from that strange light before a big evening storm.
a distinctly summer light. the sky out my window is that glorious blue that only happens in storm cloud, and the distant air is hazy with rain.
when i look at it, finals seems to dwindle
and i want to sit on a front porch, with just tea, and watch the irrevocable weather come.


i go to knit. and watch, from inside, which is cozy in its funny McNeal way.
-Signed, Gyp.

an honest panhandler.

um. i went a hunting of the jobs, and roamed far and wide.
i saw a bird diving for fish in the Mississippi.
i saw people walking on Main taking pictures.
i saw the real possibility of living in the cities this summer.
And a couple days ago i saw a panhandler whose sign read;
"NEED BEER. i luv you"

at least he's honest.

Observation #1: it is gorgeous outside. I am looking out the window of the McNeal computer lab, and the air is gently bluish and the brick-and mortar world underneath it looks like a prime spot for an adventure, as long as it lacks four walls. When weather like this happens after months of dark and knife-like cold, it does not matter whether I am blogging or schooling or knitting or hanging out, I would rather be outside. Doing those things. But since that is impractical and irresponsible at the moment, I'll tell you what I learned today.

Biomimicry. And proxemics. That is what I learned

Proxemics is the culturally varying phenomenon of personal space, bubble, distance, whatever. It is what makes it ok for an old friend to sit on your lap, and not a stranger. It is what makes loud phone conversations on the bus annoying, such that they end up in all their embarrassing detail on Overheard at the U of M. There's more to it, but that's the gist.

Biomimicry. ok. That kingfisher up there? he can dive into water WITHOUT A SPLASH. so as not to scare the fishies upon which he snacks. The folk who designed the Japanese bullet trains used the same strategy to keep the trains quiet coming out of tunnels, and to use less energy.

and sharks. I loved sharks as a small child, because they are cool. A particular kind of shark keeps its skin clean of bacteria because it has a certain sort of pattern on its body that bacteria cannot attach to. People are putting the same sort of patterns on hospital surfaces to reduce infections.

Namibian beetles have no access to fresh water, so they have grooves on their backs to collect dew, which they drink. Some skyscrapers use the same idea to collect water.

And there are a million more. It's quite cool.
I must run. I have no color class today, and it's free cone day at Ben and Jerry's.
And the thought of waltzing down the busy washboard of Washington Ave in the springish light with some buds and getting ice cream is rather intoxicating.
keep thy nose clean.
-Signed, Gyp.

What's Irish and stays out all night? Patty O'Furniture. ha.

WElll now.

break is tasty.

I paid a very pleasant visit to Hipsterville (the varsity theater with Copeland on the stage) the other day. I played spot-the-jeans-that-aren't-skinny, (only got to two), and thought about why I am ok with fitting in here.

we're born conforming, and hipsters are no exception, but I like how there seems to be more room for individuality here. and there are posers in every crowd. Get over it.

Indie music = Grood. nuff said. disagree if you wish, more for me.

I like art. So do they. Thereforth, we often get along.

They also tend to appreciate clothes more for their aesthetic appearance than where you bought them. Or, put differently, accept "thrift store" as a legit answer for where you got something.

some days hipsters drive me nuts, yes. some days i drive myself nuts. We're even.


ST PATTYS DAY.......

My family went to Cossetta's on Wednesday. This delightful, vintage, tasty Italian place is right in the middle of the St. Paul St. Patty's Day festivities. I thought we should be mobbed for not wearing green shirts. It all smelled and looked thoroughly like summer in the city; loud, happy, lazy, eating, drinking, yapping, busy, crowded, conducive to wandering slowly in no particular direction with some buddies, sprawling in a park and people-watching......twas positively intoxicating. (pun not intended.)

One does, however, encounter things that make the inner fashion sense feel nauseated.

Horizontally-striped green-and-white tights. As pants. On someone who had eaten their fair share of donuts.

that is all i have to say on the subject.

Tipsy people are funny. As in:
"I....I just talked to BOB. He,....StIll has to WORK. but...HES COMING AFTER...?"
and:
intoxicated dude dancing about on the stairwell, saying hi to folk as they pass by.

Signed, Gyp.

P.S. drunk people are also disgusting, and i do not like drunkenness, but if i didn't laugh at it sometimes, i'd have to cry.