ketchup

i have been wanting to blog quite often but it just hasn't been happening. feels like it's been forever when it has probably only been a few days.

i am sitting in the cafe at school, "blogging" on paper for later and waiting for my probably crappy $3.99 pizza. number sixty-six. they will call me soon.

i will miss this school; i like my professors and most of the students. next semester i'm taking all my classes online so i can work more hours each week.

lots to tell you. went for my photo shoot, which was a bit awkward because it was so photo shoot-y. large, dark room with photographer lights and a solitary stool for my tush. i really hope i didn't look like a dork. i tried not to.

the newspaper office lived up to what you would imagine - an enormous sea of desks, no cubicles, just packed in. there must have been 200 on that floor alone, and papers, books, and all kinds of crap, sometimes spilling over, was piled on every one. true reporters. i saw one editing the layout of the sports page as i walked past. others stood around telling jokes. it was pretty cool.

boyfriend thinks i would make a good journalist. i'm not so sure, though. i dunno.

this pizza is, surprisingly, not bad. (if you had tasted the fried rice i once bought here, you'd be surprised too.) i just don't understand one of the girls who works here. she asked what kind of pizza i wanted and when i said "plain" she looked confused. she asked, "cheese?" yes dear, cheese.

i once tried to order a croissant from here; boy was that fun.

her: a what?
me: a croissant.
her: what??
me: A CROISSANT
her: *thinking* oh, you mean a CROISS-AAAAANT?

she pronounced it as you would "rant" or "slant." okay, i don't need you to discuss shakespeare or molecular theory with me, but you should know how to pronounce croissant. it's on burger king commercials for crying out loud.

i bought this pretty lipstick for my photo shoot and it was one of those that makes false promises about staying on all day, even after you eat. naturally, i assumed it was bullshit but this one means it, and how. i ate, drank, brushed my teeth, wiped it off with tissue, the works, but this shit won't come off. i'm still wearing yesterday's application. this morning i woke up and started brushing with my white toothbrush and the handle became pink. holy shit, industrial strength lipstick!!

i went to a poetry reading last night at the local independent (read: coolest on the planet) bookstore. it was given by my world lit professor and the dean of arts and humanities, both of whom have recently published collections of their poetry. it was kick ass. i listened to verses about angels and devils and fixing trucks. this is why i love austin.