Art of the Day
Amedeo Modigliani
(b Livorno, 1884 d Paris, 1920)
Nude, 1916
Oil on Canvas, 92.1 x 60 cm.
Courtauld Institute Galleries, London
Modigliani was influenced by Cubism, African sculpture and the works of Paul Cezanne. Both a painter and a sculptor, he packed a lot of life into the 35 years he had, before dying of tuberculosis.
Quick Update
Swirly is going to get a pedicure and massage because she damn well feels like it. After that, then off to dinner and shopping. After her return home, if her brain is not converted to mush, she will return to her vice, the computer, and post some of the things she wrote today instead of taking notes in political science class.
Something to think about: Who do you consider to be the most charasmatic public figures, past or present?
Toodles! {v}
Quality Education
Today in Intro to Poli Sci, as Jennifer made a list of ideas for her Xanga blog, the rest of the class learned about the political system in Nigeria, found in “Africker” (aff – ruh – ker). I think the guy just can’t pronounce the “a” on the end of a word.
(This is the same professor who taught us about the “Magna Carter”.)
Annoying Trick of the Day
Ask your co-workers or classmates mysterious questions. Scribble their answers in a notebook. Mutter something about “psychological profiles”.
The Good, The Bad, The Ugly
I’m going to post this due the incredible amount of email I got last night & this morning and then I am through with the whole thing. I didn’t mention it on here other than a link in one post, but for the last week I was a participant in the savvyweaklink game. Most of the people that read this blog knew that. Some of them even posted on their own site about my participation to get people to read it and cast their votes for who they thought should win.
As for the criticism that I got, mostly from the game’s moderator I might add, I have been rather non-self-disclosing while in this game because I would much rather have my writing torn apart by these people than my real life. I still feel like that was the best thing for me to do, though. I didn’t start any new things on the site to shock people or stoop to “ratings week” type stunts. The art and quotes stuff had been appearing sparatically since March, the “Print Shop” stuff took the place of the “Small Town Life” string I’d been working on, and the annoying things had been up before this all, too. The only thing that really changed was that I tried to do less poetry and throw in one thing from each category daily.
I don’t care how callused you are, having people effectively screaming that they hate you or your work wears a person down, thus the reason that I don’t want to debate this for another week. I have stayed up around the clock, sleeping basically 20 hours in the last week, trying to crank something out for this contest. For all of the flack that I got about not being original and not posting anything of substance, I sure did put a lot of time and effort into it.
Yesterday’s voting post at SWL turning into a car wreck of sorts. There were fake accounts created, double voting, name-calling, it was pretty gruesome. I had noticed that throughout the game, however there were accounts that voted in the game that had never made an original public post. Others voted for or against whoever voted for or against them the previous day.
I was watching yesterday as my lead of 10 to 4 slipped to 8, then to 12 and on. Like I said, it was nasty at the end and I sent this email before logging off for 12 hours:
Ross,
I do see integrity in you, as I told Erika yesterday. I’m glad if I go down in flames (I never knew how literally that would happen!) it’s to a nice guy.
As for the criticism, I have been pretty cloaked while in this because I didn’t want to have my LIFE torn apart by these people. As a result I get a “bubble gum” wrapper and people bitch about that. Oh well, it seems that my intention backfired anyway, because I’m getting raked over the coals for everyone else’s comments about me now.
I can’t keep reading all of this crap. It’s getting to damned ruthless. I wanted to get some constructive criticism on my writing and see what people REALLY thought about my ideas, quips, etc. I’d say I got both the good and bad sides of those opinions and that’s enough for me. I’m logging off now and I’ll check back in later. I don’t want to watch this turn in the direction it’s going of everyone bashing each other and using the voting place as a flame chat room.
I am, again, so sorry things got so fucking horrible on this, but I am proud to have lost to you, Ross. I’ll keep reading your blog and I wish you and Dee all of the best when the big move takes place.
Sincerely,
Jennifer
Okay, with all of that said, a lot good did come of this. I feel better about my work, as loose of a use of the term as some people believe that to be, and I did come into contact with people due to the game that I might not have otherwise. So I will follow with a few words of thanks to some of those people.
Thanks to one of my oldest Xanga friends, leadcrow. She was very supportive throughout the contest despite being friends with Argyle, too. She kept reminding me not to get all upset and kept me laughing. She also has a great blog that I have been reading since January. She is very upfront and honest, which both gets respect from me and sends some running into the night. You rock! 😀
Thanks to Nyree, who showed support here, on the SWL site with daily votes and on her own site. I met her through the last game and she stayed with me through this. She is starting her own contest soon and I think that she will be able to better run it after seeing all of bs in this round. Good luck, Nyree! Give it to ’em “Nyree Style”! 😉
Thanks to another ballsy chick, azure_mariposa. Lots of support and much-needed laughs from this direction as well. Mwah! {v} Azure is as sweet as they come and I luvs her to pieces!
Thanks to Brandi, whom I have grown to respect for her stance on life as much as her writing and support. This gal is a true example of making lemonade from the lemons dealt in life and I am glad to have met her through this massacre.
Other supporters of note are twirl_dawg, itsnomyth (another current contestant) and jermschmitt (who was also friends with Argyle), who were wonderful throughout and me feel that I was, in fact, reaching someone out there. CelticBookWurm and scottishfyre, who though being contestants themselves, had lots of warm words for me. (They both got robbed, by the way.) These are two more blogs worth your time and reading. MyxlDove has been another sweetie and is competing in the current round. JackRabbitDaddy is a helluva funny guy and a big sweetie, too
Okay, I will thank everyone on his or her own turf after classes this morning, but I have to go and thank my biggest supporter ever for his role in this game. He has listened to me yelling “WTF?” and put up with me crawling into bed at 7AM (or not at all) for the last week. He wanted me to join soooo badly, but I think he is equally relieved that this is over.
And in accordance to prophecy, this post will have the eProps disabled, unfortunately I can’t leave comments on without them. So PLEASE, this post was not made to be a eProp whoring kind of thing. Feel free to say what you like, but don’t ‘prop it. Go give those to these sweeties who have helped me keep my head on straight.
And last, but not, least, congrats to the winner, Argyle. He was incredibly nice to me through this whole schpleal. I wish him the best, and hope that his teddy bear fetish is over. 😉
Thanks to all of my readers. Regardless of whether you wanted to vote or not (and I see more now than ever why you wouldn’t want to!) you do read my stuff and I’m glad that you enjoy it and keep coming back.
{v} to all, Jennifer (aka Swirly)
Print Shop Stories
Owen was a quirky little guy. He was around 5’5″, rail thin, with salt and pepper hair. He always looked a bit scared, as if someone had leaped out the closet the moment before you saw him. He was married with four daughters, who all lived at home. Only a brave man could live in a house with five pre-menstrual women and be the sole breadwinner. Maybe that is why he always looked scared.
Another thing that Owen seemed to be afraid of was work. He hid around the building in nooks and crannies with a newspaper trying to avoid be handed something to work on. At lunch, or shortly after, he would walk out to the parking lot and move his car behind a neighboring company. He did this so that when he hid, with no car there to confirm his presence, everyone would think that he had gone home. He would then continue to hide out until quitting time, reading sports and current events until 5PM.
Owen got a bit of ribbing over hiding, but he was better known for being a cheapskate. He begged people’s lunch scraps, drank coffee only when the company gave it away, dug through people’s trashcans for reading material and whatever caught his eye. He often took it upon himself to eat things that had taken up residency in the fridge longer than 48 hours. His reasoning was that he “didn’t want it to go bad.” It not that the little guy wasn’t rolling in money – he made upwards of $14 an hour and had paid off his car and house. He just seemed to like ‘finding’ things.
With reading making up such a big part of Owen’s time, coupled with the fact that he would never buy his own material, people around the shop were constantly missing books and magazines. Some of Owen’s favorite things to sneak off with were my magazines. I brought in Elle, Vogue, Cosmo, anything with an estrogen theme at the time. He admitted to swiping them, but justified it by saying, “There’s more nudity in there than in a Playboy and I can’t read Playboy at work!”
Owen and Mitch had known each other for years. They had both been in the business over 25 years, and while they often were forced to work together at various locations around the area, they had always had a bit of a rivalry. Mitch was the tall, big, loud guy and Owen was the short, small, quiet guy. They complained non-stop about the other to anyone that would listen. Since I liked both of them I got to hear every little detail, too.
Yes, story telling was one of Owen’s specialties. When not in hiding, he loved telling what I dubbed ‘Owen’s True Stories’. These were often jokes that he embellished on and added personal details to, told to enthrall the listener until he could throw out the punchline. I’ll give you an example, one of my first and favorite of these anecdotes:
“The first time I had sex I was a young guy and she was even younger. We were on her farm and ran behind the barn. After a lot of kissing and such I decided to make the move. She was really into it and things were going well. Just when I was about to … you know … her mom walked around the side of the barn and stood there looking at us.”
(Insert comment here, ie. “Oh my God! What did she say?”)
“Moo.”
to be continued …
True Confession
Whenever I really like a guy we have had “a song”.
With my ex-husband our song was “I’d Die Without You” by PM Dawn. After a year and eight months since our separation, I am glad to say that I did not die without him. In fact, I feel more alive than ever.
My and Gray’s song is “A Kiss To Build A Dream On” by Louis Armstrong. I like oldies and it’s a classic song. We both knew that we were in love after our first kiss. (The neighborhood was less than thrilled about the power surge, but that’s a different matter.) We actually voted on our song. How much more democratic can you get, I ask?
I think, now looking back, that the songs were somewhat representative of the relationship. With Jason it was the song-of-the-moment kind of thing and he picked it. It was a very clingy kind of relationship with an obsessive type song for the soundtrack. With Gray, it’s a classic song for a relaxed but passionate love affair that is built on honesty and respect.
Annoying Tricks of the Day Walk around the office humming The Flintstones theme.
(take your pick!)
(I did this at my office for months on end with different songs: the theme from Batman, Jingle Bells, Sesame Street, anything insanely aggravating and popular. This is a good trick for Fridays, too. People will start singing in the office and go home and infect their family. Works like a charm.)
Tape bits of “Sweating to the Oldies” or “Lassie” over climactic parts of rental movies.
(This works with pornos, too. Wanna get back at your older or younger brother? “Ohhhh … yeah. That feels good.” “One, two, three, COME ON PEOPLE! Stay focused!” OR “Ohhhhhh, Jeremy!” “Lassie, what’s wrong girl?”)
Leave your turn signal on for twenty miles.
(If you already do this, perhaps you are the nbsp I got behind on the way to school this morning. Guess what? This even annoys me.)
Truth Unveiled
Does life imitate art or does art imitate life? Well, this should answer THAT question.
Vincent van Gogh
Skull With Burning Cigarette
Oil on canvas
Antwerp, Belguim: Winter, 1885/86
Keith Richards
Guitar Player with Cigarette
Sparing flesh on bone
Kent, England: Dec. 18, 1943 (or 1834?)
Quote of the Day
“I was reading an interview with Keith Richards in a magazine and in the interview Keith Richards intimated that kids should not do drugs. Keith Richards! Says that kids should not do drugs! Keith, we can’t do any more drugs because you already fucking did them all, alright! There’s none left! We have to wait ’till you die and smoke your ashes!”
— Dennis Leary