positivity and leeches

That awkward moment when...

• your ex is now your gynecologist and he/she recognizes you by your genitalia.
• you draw a self-portrait you really hate and someone says, "Well, I can definitely tell it's you."
• you decide to change with your blinds open thinking, "No one can see me." Then someone sees you.
• you're the only kid from the original HP cast who didn't grow up to be a total hottie.

I just don't really know any more.. Being away from Evan is terrible. I really hate it...

I've been feeling sub-par recently. I've applied sporadically to jobs for the past 2 1/2 years now, and never even got an interview. My boyfriend just got the first job he applied for. My hips are too big for jeans and my feet are too big for shoes. My friends know how to survive without me. Every time I walk into my art classes I feel like something I always thought I was good at is being slowly taken away from me...

I'm gonna paint my nails now.

So. It's been almost a week since I last updated this. It's currently 11:15 p.m. My roommate and I just watched the original animated Robin Hood movie. The one where Robin Hood is portrayed as a fox. It's a good'un.

So. Mom. I know I said it was okay. But I really don't want you to read my blog any more... I don't know why. It just... Bothers me to know that you're reading it. You may read the rest of this post, though. I will give you that. I'm just upset because if you wondered if I would continue to write at all if I knew you read it, then you shouldn't have said anything... Sorry mommy. I love you. Or! You know what? We can work out like, a little system. Like, when you check my blog if it has *** at the top you know not to read it. And the if there's nothing it's okay. Idk. We'll work something out.

So, last week was basically the week out of hell. A lot of things went wrong, including my teacher not taking a grade on a project I spent 9 hours on, my really expensive colored pencils breaking repeatedly, my grandmother being in the hospital, and crashing my car. So after that week, I refuse to be negative. So, I'm going to list some of the positive things that happened to me today.

1. I finished a self portrait project I've been working on for a really long time now and I'm very proud of it.
2. Although I wrecked my car it resulted in me going home which in turn resulted in me getting my mother's old leather portfolio to replace my cardboard one. So, today, that meant my portfolio didn't fall apart in the rain and my artwork stayed protected.
3. Although it rained today, there was no wind. And it could've rained much harder. And I like the rain <3
4. I had some time to play around and do some photo editing today, which is what I really love.
5. My roommate, my friend from down the hall, and I all sat in my room and watched the animated version of Robin Hood.
6. I got other people to be positive, too.
7. All of my friends listening to Disney music while working on our art projects.
8. Getting to talk to Anna, who is basically the older sister I never had.
9. The fact that, even though the sandwich the Boar's Head made for me at lunch was completely wrong, it still had the meat I wanted on it and I was only charged for a veggie sandwich.
10. It's actually starting to feel like Autumn, which is my favorite time of year.

So, there's a list of 10 things I looked at positively today. I kept telling people that anywhere around me is a zero-negativity zone. It actually really helps. It makes me feel not so much like a robot, which is how I was beginning to feel. I was genuinely miserable this weekend because I didn't get to see my friends like I wanted to. But because of crashing my car, I got to visit my grandma who came home from the hospital on Friday and see my boyfriend. Unfortunately, I was so ate up with not being able to see my friends that I didn't even take time to enjoy the people I did get to see. And that just isn't fun at all. So, like Timon and Pumba say, "Hakuna Matata." (I got to see that movie in 3D this weekend... it was awesome.)

I think everyone needs to do that every once in a while. Society gets so overwhelmed with all the shitty things that happen we all develop this "morbid fascination with the negative" as my dad calls it and this obsession makes it difficult to see all the good things around us. So we all sit around feeling sorry for ourselves and saying, "Yeah, but...!" when we don't get our way. So yea, I would've liked to see my friends this weekend and not have crashed my car, but it resulted in quality time with my parents, my grandma, my boyfriend, and a new portfolio. See? There are ways to make good out of what seems like a terrible situation.

These are the photos I edited today. They're all screenshots from Bo Burnham's music video, "Oh Bo."

The other day my professor compared Aesop's Fables to Garfield... I was like, "Um... What?" Not that either of them matter because, well, they're about animals and we're people.

Today one of my professors pulled up a YouTube video in class. And he didn't have to override a block to do so. college > high school

I had some other things I wanted to say... What were they? *check Tumblr to see*

The other day I was running late to class. A kid I just met this year and have one class with happened to see me walking by. He had a golf club with him. And he though it would be funny if he stuck it out in front of me while I was walking towards him. I freaked out. I was on a mission and so focused on getting to class I about jumped 5 feet when all of a sudden there was a golf club handle blocking me. It would have been really funny if I hadn’t been in such a rush.

My boyfriend informed me that he saw a shirt that said, “Oedipus was the first mother fucker.” Bo Burnham would be proud.

P.S. I spelled Oedipus without using spellcheck. That’s because I actually know who Oedipus is. Hooray for Mythology and AP English!

I wish I was smart enough for Bo Burnham… Or famous. So I’d at least have a chance of meeting him… I wonder if there’s an address anywhere so I can send my fanmail. Cause I’m not going to bother writing it if I can’t even get it to him. That would just be silly. I am, however, going to compile a list of things I would say to/ask him if we ever did meet.

So, there's that... And I really am working on that list.

I really hate how on Tumblr there are people who never actually write anything themselves. Or take photos or even post quotes they like. They just reblog everything. You go to their profile and just EVERYTHING is something that's been reblogged. Whatever part of their brain makes their finger hit the reblog button 500 times a day needs to be unclogged so they don't reblog. I reblog sometimes. It's no big deal, every once in a while. But I always but why I reblogged it. So please, reblog responsibly.

Why in the world would PJ want Nyan Cat? Why? If you're PJ and Nyan Cat was for you... screw you.

Now it's time for... *drumroll*

Things My Roommate Says that Take Me Off Guard

• Squirrels are like super rodents.
• Me: I have so much to do tonight. 
• Her: I have so much to do for the rest of my life.
• He was like, "You're so fucking cute," and she was like, "I fucking love you," and he was like, "No, I fucking love you," and I was like, "Actually, neither of you are fucking cute and your children are going to be messed up."
• I would send you to Boston to see Bo Burnham if I could, just because it would make you happy.
• Her: What's the weather like? 
• Me: I don't know.
• Her: You're no good for anything.

There are definitely more of those to come.

Bo Burnham tweets: “Behold! Art!” to something creative he did.

Everyone else replies, “Art is dead,” and thinks they’re the clever ones because that’s the name of one of his songs.

The other day my friend listened to a Bo Burnham song for the first time. Part of the way through the song she turned to me with this highly scandalized expression on her face and asked, "Did he just say what I think he said?" Completely unfazed I answered, "Why yes. Yes he did." I think that's the beauty of Bo Burnham's lyrics. They're so unexpected. It's like when you just get pieces of a conversation and hear something completely inappropriate and off-topic except with Bo, when you think, "No, there's now way he just said, 'intact hymen.'" Except he did. And that's why people love him.

I've come to notice that the only time I get any attention on my Tumblr is when I mention/tag Bo... Weird.

This is my Inca Kola, as you can see. until this sunday, I didn’t know you could get it anywhere except South America. It’s like carbonated bubblegum, otherwise known as Heaven. My dad personally calls is “Icky Cola.” Lot’s of people don’t like it. My roommate happens to be one of those people. But I don’t care. It just means I get to drink it straight out of this 2 liter bottle. (: I think the reason I like Inca Kola so much is because of what it means to me. When I was in 7th grade, the summer before 8th, I got to go on this amazing trip to Peru, and at the lodges we stayed at they had this Inca Kola. It came in glass bottles, just like all the other pop, that you could by for a dollar and then you would give them the bottle back and they would recycle it. I remember one or two of us would by a thing of soda and then we would pass it around and like, 5 people would share this one bottle. We became like a family that week. I remember the hammocks and the food and rain and the howler monkeys... So you may not like it, but I sure do.

I think that's all I have to say for tonight. I mean, I have more. I always have more. But it's 12:30 now. And there's sleeping to be done.

Good night, my dear readers. Parting is such sweet sorrow... Except when there's a leech involved.

i'm an art major.

If you have any hipster status at all, 30 points are automatically deducted if you're fat.


I wish people would take time to understand what an art major entails before declaiming it as doodles and shapes. Just because we're not sitting around with graphing calculators and solving equations or writing papers late into the night doesn't mean we're not working just as hard if not harder than people undertaking other majors. Do you think I wanted to lock myself up in the media room for 2 1/2 hours coloring in a 3"x12" grid made of 1/4" squares until I went cross-eyed? No, I most certainly did not. But I did. And even though it may have just looked like a bunch of fancy filled-in squares to you, I worked really hard on it. And tonight when I lock myself up in the media room doing what looks to you like just cutting shapes out of black paper, it will really be me busting my ass to make the cleanest lines and most interesting shapes I possibly can so I don't fail foundations and miss my chance to submit a portfolio to get into the program I want at the end of this year. Because missing that portfolio review means taking the same classes again to try and make the review the next year. And at that point, if I even get in because the program only accepts 32-36 people a year depending on availability, I'll already be a year behind because the program takes 3 years. Say good-bye to the class of 2015 and hello to the class of 2016.


Art is the easiest thing in the world to do poorly and the hardest thing to do well. That's what my drawing instructor keeps telling us, anyway. And it's completely true. Because art is completely subjective. Something I feel proud of may not be what my instructor wants at all.


So think, please, before you go thinking whatever you have to do for your major is more difficult than what art majors do. And if you do say what we do is easy, then please, let's see you try. Oh what's that? You can't? That's what I thought. Okay bye.


I just got a tumblr account (which you can view here --> *click*) and I think that I might be using it incorrectly. Seriously. Like, 3 of the people who reblogged one of my posts have the same picture/theme on their profile. And the picture is really gross. And then another person, when I went to look at their profile thingy, it was almost all photos of naked/half-naked women. I’m severely confused here…

Social networking is like crack cocaine. It takes up all my time and makes my pupils look dilated. Or, in the words of Bo Burnham (you thought I was going to go for a whole post without talking about him, did you?) on Twitter: "Twitter is like crystal meth because it's really fun to do and Oprah's on it."

My roommate and I mention each other Twitter even when we're sitting in the same room.

The other day when I locked myself the media room for 2 1/2 hours, there was one redeeming part of that experience, and that was meeting another girl in my dorm who was working on an art project, too. Just to set the scene, it's me, a chunky white girl with dyed hair, and this black girl with braids sitting across a table from each other and working on individual art projects. She said the word "dope" a lot and liked Disney soundtracks (we ended up working to music from "Anastasia"). She was also married. A freshman in college, she told me she and her husband were just married at the very end of August, so just a couple weeks ago. He lives in another town but isn't going to college. They had been dating for 3 years and were engaged for 1. I told her that getting married right out of high school was very brave of her and that her ring was blingin'. It was a good time.

I have some more awkward moments for you! 

That awkward moment when...

• you've already gone pee and then you realize there's no toilet paper or anyone to bring any to you.
• you're on Skype with someone and your roommate walks in in their towel.
• someone has in an earpiece and you respond to what they say because you think they're talking to you.
• you finish taking your shower and realize you forgot a towel.
• you see someone you went to high school with but didn't really know but you feel obligated to smile at each other anyway.
• someone de-friends you and then sends a friend request 3 months later.
• you ask someone when they're due and they're not pregnant, just fat.
• someone asks you when you're due and you're not pregnant.
• your doctor asks you if you're sexually active and you mother's in the room. 
• (Even if you aren't, this is a seriously embarrassing question. Let's just be honest, here.)
• you call someone to ask if they've seen your phone.
• you know you've seen someone before and just can't think of where... then realize you're related.
• you tell a friend an entire, detailed story and at the end remember they were there, too.
• you start to flirt with a guy and then his boyfriend walks up.

It's Friday. Behind me, my roommate is catching her mother up on all the latest gossip over the phone which I am now privy to. I think I'm going to lock myself in the media room and start cutting those shapes, now.

But first, pajamas!

love. kinsey.

blippin' tricks

I think people who are part of minorities create racism. Because they flock towards each other. So no, it's not that our seating is segregated. It's that all the black people sit with the other black people and Asians sit with other Asians.

I just had a really good thought and then it slipped out of the back of my head.

Right! Okay. I hate it when people use the word "legit." It's really starting to annoy me. Especially when they use it when they don't even know a) what it's short for or b) how to use the original word. If you're going to use the word "legit" know what "legitimate" means. Here, I'll even help you out.

le-git-i-mate
adjective |liˈjitəmit|1 the only form of legitimate gambling: legal, lawful, licit, legalized,authorized, permitted, permissible, allowable, allowed, admissible,sanctioned, approved, licensed, statutory, constitutional; informal legit,street legal. ANTONYMS illegal.2 the legitimate heir: rightful, lawful, genuine, authentic, real, true,proper, authorized, sanctioned, acknowledged, recognized.ANTONYMS false, fraudulent.3 legitimate grounds for doubt: valid, sound, well-founded, justifiable,reasonable, sensible, just, fair, bona fide. ANTONYMS illegal.
Now, don't use "legit" in a situation where you would not use the word "legitimate." OkayGot it? Good.
That awkward moment when...

• someone gets a gagillion "likes" on a really generic status.
• someone announces they have a fatal disease via facebook.
• you get a new boyfriend and your friends send him facebook requests before you do.
• you go to the bathroom and realize you left your toothbrush at home and now have to use your finger.
• you ask a question that the teacher literally just gave the answer to.
• you forget the different between to, too, and two.
• you say something stupid right when someone with authority walks up behind you.
• your friends don't de-friend your boyfriend after you break up.
• you cough trying to cover up a laugh because you're the only one in class awake enough to realize what the professor just said could be turned into a really awesome "you're mom" joke.
• you get a good look at someone after knowing them for a long time and shout, "Your eyes are -insert color here-!" in the middle of a conversation.
• you realize you spent an hour doing the wrong homework assignment.
• you ask someone a question on facebook and they "like" it without answering.
• you realize the person with the weird facial expression in the background of that photo is actually you.
• your chair or shoe makes a farting noise so you try to recreate the noise so people will know it wasn't you but come up unsuccessful.
• you make a reference during a group discussion that no one else understands.
• you wave at someone or say hello and they pass by without noticing or hearing you.
• there's a sex scene in a movie you're watching with your parents.
• when the class is taking a test so it's dead silent and you hiccup/sneeze/make an absurdly loud noise and everyone turns to look at you.
• you go to stand up and leave but end up back in your seat because your bag strap got caught on your chair.
• you realize your text got redirected to the wrong person. 
• you use scandalous language on your FB profile and your mom/grandma/aunt/teacher comments on it.
• the professor says roll call and you realize your name isn't on the list.
• you show up to a classy function wearing the same outfit as someone else and must spend the night avoiding them.
• five minutes later you exclaim, "Oooh!" because you just understood the punch line.
• you say, "Awkwaaard..." and you're the only one who thinks it's awkward enough to point it out.

If you don't own a kneaded eraser, you should. You don't even have to use it to erase things. Just stretch it apart and play with it. It's a great stress reliever.

Okay. At this point I really just don't give a fuck about the Rockefeller family and their house. Seriously.

My ants look really good (: I'm excited about them.

My sissy Anna sent me a good pack of nice Crayola colored pencils so I can actually color now without using my good art supplies! I was really excited. Plus it meant that I got mail, which is always an exciting discovery. I love putting in the combination to my mailbox and opening it up and finding something in there. It's like finding buried treasure.

It got kind of chilly out today... I love fall, though (: Fall was when Evan and I first started really hanging out and talking. And late October was when he asked me out. It's my favorite time of year. Oh, and also I really love it when the leaves change. Especially once they fall and it's really dry and you rake them all together and jump in a big pile of them. That's the best... It reminds me of my great-grandmother. Fall also means apple cider and pumpkin carving and Halloween. ("H-a-double l-o-w-double e-n spells Halloween!") So, get excited!

I had a really nice Skype date with my BGGF (best gay guy friend) tonight. We discussed blippin' tricks and how "bate" sounds like the nasty, 15-year-old-boy slang term for "masturbate" because a mutual friend of ours decided that it was necessary for everyone else to know that they haven't don't that in a record amount of time... or something. Not that any of you needed to know that, either. But I thought I'd share.

I hope the fact that I incessantly text in bed doesn't keep my roommate awake. I don't think it does because sometimes she snores.

<3 kinsey.

padooglers and googlers

I know why people don't read my blog. It's because I don't have a topic. I don't blog about one specific topic that people just like to read about. I blog about my life, and apparently that's only interesting to people who know me. I guess it's not enough to just come up with (self-decidedly) clever observations. Unless you're famous. Then you can just write about whatever the hell you want because, well, you have lots of money and maybe a bit of talent.

I've been living with my eyes closed recently. I think I just... Well I'm home for the weekend. And you know how they say when one of your senses is impaired the other ones become sharper? For me, I've seen everything here already. So while I'm home, if I just close my eyes, my singing sounds a little better, Evan's kiss feels a bit deeper, summer smells a bit sweeter, and I can hear the breeze rustle leaves and almost feel cool just because I know it's there (even if it is nearly 100 degrees outside).

I've come to realize recently that if you truly in your heart of hearts don't want to believe in something, nothing can ever make you give in. You will always find fault after fault, even after your arguments become tired.

Last night I had a dream and in it I rapped something fierce. Bo Burnham was there. I told him he could use my stuff if he wanted to.

Tonight my boyfriend and I went to get Chinese for dinner and when we walked in there was a little boy behind the cash register. He was probably 8 or 9. And he was one of the most adorable things I've ever seen! He took our order and punched it in the computer and gave us our change and everything. He was very efficient and did it with a smile and afterwards his mother came out and he showed her that he'd done it correctly and you could just tell he was proud of himself. The best part of it, however, was that behind the register they had a couch where I assume the boy and his older brother chill in down time and on the couch was this book probably 3 or 4 inches thick... Pokémon: Platinum Version. An entire guide to Pokémon. It was so stereotypical, it was adorable. And then on the television they were streaming an anime show called Slam Dunk. And I'm not sure what language it was in, but it wasn't English. But the boy understood it. I heard him speak it with his older brother, too. But he also spoke really good English. I was very impressed with this young man. Anyway, it was cute.

I'm really excited about going back to school because my roommate has a combo VCR/DVD player hooked up to her television, so when I go back I'm taking my classic Disney VHS tapes with me and we're gonna have a party. (:

It was officially decided today: No one, male or female, should ever go commando.

I'm actually really afraid that one day I'm actually going to get to meet Bo Burnham and he's going to be nothing like how I think he is. Although I refuse to think that way. He seems really sincere and sweet. I know he tells people to shut up while he's on stage and whatnot, but I bet one-on-one he's really cool. I mean, who else can use the term "spastic fat chicks" and not sound demeaning even in the slightest? I've never written anyone fan mail, but I think I just might make an exception for Bo. I think he'd appreciate that, anyway, considering he's "all about words, words, words" and a handwritten letter, well, who doesn't like getting those in the mail?

You know, I'm really just kind of fooling myself into thinking I'm the only one that wants to sit down and actually have a conversation with him. I want to know what his favorite book is. Who his favorite poet is. If he likes playing guitar or piano more. I want to talk to him about religion and understand the details of why he doesn't believe in God anymore (or if he ever did). I'm sure there are a lot of other teenage fangirls out there who want to know these things and actually speak with him instead of just throwing themselves at him... right?

Bo, if you're reading this, I'm simple with one dimple, too. Except mine is on the opposite side of yours (I think). Only problem is, pizza and the internet aren't quite enough for me... I also need cupcakes. Red velvet or confetti cake, preferably.

For you readers out there who aren't Bo Burnham, you probably think I'm crazy for directly talking to Bo on the off chance that he ever reads this. But today, Aziz Ansari gave me hope, because he was brave enough to admit that even (and probably especially) stars Google their own names. I don't know how far into Google you'd have to go to find my blog pop up for Bo Burnham, but... It could happen?

1. boburnham.com -- opening line in red letters reads: CHECK OUT MY BLOG FOR UP TO DATE STUFF
2. click on blog link. *click*
3. top blog says: nonsense and F.A.Qs October 2nd, 2009


So, that's that. He did just do a tour in the UK this summer... I also found out that 2 years ago Bo came to Indianapolis for the Bob and Tom show and a secret Myspace show... And I didn't know about it. But! I've been in the Indianapolis airport many-a-time and that means Bo and I have most likely stepped at least, like, in the same vicinity. *insert awk fangirl scream here* I'm just kidding. Otherwise this would've just gotten really creepy...


I closed out of Safari just in time to need to pull it back up again because it occurred to me that 2 years ago, I wouldn't have been allowed at a Bo Burnham show even if I had know about it. You have to be 18 to attend shows that involve derogatory humor and openly abuse *cough* I mean use the word "fuck." Before that, you probably hear it every day of you life, anyway, but the rest of the world likes to pretend that you're sheltered from it all so they lock you out and tell you to fuck off... I mean go away.


Today my boyfriend's younger brother made up a word: padoogle. That's the noun. A padoogler and a padoogla are the titles given to people who do a padoogle. And "to padoogle" is the verb form... We're not really sure what it means. What we do know is that as a whole, it sounds like a couple poorly named Pokémon (although I'm sure Padoogle isn't in the Platinum Version Ultimate Guide). That or a really awk sex move involving some paper cranes and a tambourine.


So, I was going to just do a giant compilation of everything from this weekend in one big blog post, but this is already kind of long. So I'm just going to post it now. And write again tomorrow and Tuesday then probably post Tuesday night. If I find the time for it...


Tomorrow I have to draw myself like a dead president.


Stay classy, San Diego, and remember, the sun never sets on a bad ass.


<3 Kinsey

Yorubaland and the Cotton Candy Fountain

Today I realized that now that I'm in college, if I wear a hat people won't automatically assume it means I have some sort of gang affiliation.

Don't insult someone using their least favorite nickname if they knows yours in return.

What does it say of our society that it has me thinking I'm the fat one around here? What is that about? ... Anyway.

If you drop your underwear on the bathroom floor on the way out and the next and only person to go in there is your roommate? Go claim it as soon as possible. If you drop your underwear in the bathroom and a lot of people go in and out before anyone says anything, do not claim it. Just take the next opportunity you find to discretely drop it in the trash.

If you find a pair of earrings in the bathroom and their not yours or you roommate's and no one else that shares the bathroom with you claims them? Assume they were stolen. Or there's a phantom chick with missing a set of earrings using your bathroom.

If you forget your ID in your room, it is inevitable that when you go to retrieve it, it will be the only time when no one else is going in or out of the door you need your ID to get through. On the other hand, if you always have your ID on you, there will always be someone going or coming through that door and you will never actually need to use your ID to open the door.

Bo Burnham tweets: "Behold! Art!" to something creative he put together.
Everyone else replies: "Art is dead," and thinks they're the clever ones because that's one of his songs.

When you reduce yourself to literally staring at your screen and watching your Twitter feed instead of reading, you know you've reached a low point in the educational process. Good thing I got there early. Now I have the next 3 3/4 years to pick it up.

"You plus me is less than three (<3)
but me and you is less than 2
Because you've got me but I don't have you..."

I've worried all day that the part of my jeans where my thighs rub together is just going to rip open. Then I'll be in trouble.

I've tweeted and blogged more in the last 11 days since I've been here at college than I ever did when I actually had free time to Tweet and blog.

I guess I should probably actually read about the Rockefeller family now...

47/66 pages? That's 47 more pages than I thought I'd read, especially after I fell asleep on page 9...

... and I was so tired that I made it all the way to the Scramble Light before I realized I was headed for Burkhardt when I really needed to go to the Ball Building! -insert laugh track of random nerd groupies here-

Now it's time to explore the wonders of tribal art. Or at least the vocabulary associated with it.

Yorubaland. Yes. That is what my textbook said.

Well, that's enough of that for tonight.

Today I saw this guy and I immediately hated him because of his shirt. It basically looks like this picture on the right which, if you can't see it well, is a skinny girl and underneath is says, "YES," and on the right it's a fat girl and underneath it says, "NO." Well, this is the basic concept except the shirt I saw today said, "DEAL," under the skinny one and, "NO DEAL," under the fat one. And I was highly offended. I don't care if you only like skinny girls. That's fine. Some guys only dig big chicks, so it goes both ways. But you don't need to specify your preference on your shirt because, well, it just makes all the "fat" girls out there feel shitty. So congrats, dude. You're an asshole.

"It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday... Everybody's looking forward to the weekend." I know I'm looking forward to the weekend, Rebecca! There's no doubt about that. I'm headed home this weekend. Gonna do some laundry and celebrate my brother's 8th birthday. Bounce Planet, here I come!

Sweet dreams, my dear reader(s).

Kinsey