I have somewhat nerdy hobbies

I've done absolutely nothing productive today. Here's what I did do though:

That's right. I arranged my books by color. I mean, that's a totally legitimate use of my time, right? Notice how I don't have any bookends, so my books are flanked by candles and a camera. Classy. I need to invest in some bookends, I'm thinking either these or these are freaking awesome.

I sort of love books. A lot. When I'm older I hope to have a huge library. Something Beauty and the Beast-esque. Growing up I was always surrounded by an abundance of quality literature. My mom used to have a business buying and reselling books, so I went to an extraordinary amount of book sales, bookstores, antique stores and garage sales looking for books with her. Since then, she has been slowly paring away our collection to only the very best, but every time she wants to get rid of something I protest. I feel like there's always a chance she could get rid of something I'm going to really want to read in the near or distant future.

In reality, I will probably never read a good number of the books we own. I have this problem where I get books and then never read them, or I only read part of them and never finish them. Of the 29 books in that photo I've read somewhere between 4-6 of them all the way through. Pitiful, I know. In my defense, since these are the books I have at school, a lot of them are books for classes that I only had to read part of. I also still have some books for a class that I went to once and then dropped. Yeah, some of those I haven't even cracked open.  I'm probably going to read them someday. Just maybe not soon.

You may not believe it, but I do actually finish books sometimes. I have been known to do nothing but read for days on end if I have a good book. It's one of my favorite pastimes. (I actually hate when people ask me what my hobbies are, because they all sound super nerdy. "Ummm... I like to read... and sew and knit and stuff... and make art...") Because I was homeschooled, I had to be really self-motivated, and I remember getting in trouble a lot because I would spend too much time reading when I was supposed to be doing other schoolwork. How sad is that? Who gets in trouble for reading too much? Me, apparently.

Failstruggle.

There are a number of things I feel like I should be good at, but I'm really not. For example:

1. Flower arranging.
I mean, how hard can it be? You just throw some flowers in a vase, cut the stems down and done, right? False. I have yet to understand how this can be such a struggle. Even when I buy those really nice bouquets that look fantastic in all their wrapping, when I get home and put them in a vase, they look unfortunate, no matter how much cutting and arranging I do. You would think that this would come naturally, since I'm an artist, but no.

2. Parking.
Yet again, how hard can it be? I'm a fairly decent driver, but when it comes to parking, I'm sort of screwed. Especially if I'm driving a large car. Parallel parking is just a mystery to me. How did I pass my driving test? I don't know.

3. Comforting people.
This is the worst. Inevitably people will come to me and relate some tragic story and then start crying. At this point I'm just lost. What do I do? Do I say something? If so, what? I usually just end up awkwardly hugging them and saying something ridiculously lame, like, "That's so lame!" Exactly. I suck at this.

4. Making small talk.
I have this problem where if I will never see you again I don't feel the need to get to know you or really talk to you. I don't actually care what you do for a living or what you're doing next weekend. I will most likely forget it all in about 10 minutes anyway. I know, I know, this sounds horrible. I suppose it is. But are we really enriching each other's lives at all? What are we gaining from this awkward chit-chat? Nothing, I say. NOTHING! This view on life is probably all due to the fact that I am horrible at making small talk, especially at college. Once you get past the "What's your major" and "What classes are you taking" questions, I get stuck.

5. Spelling
I used to be good at spelling. Somehow I lost that skill. I'm not really sure how.

Apparently, writing blog posts is also not one of my strong points.

In other news, yesterday I was wearing a name-tag at work that said "Sam." It took a good amount of time before I actually noticed.

He may deny it, but he really is a hipstotter

Recently in my printmaking class, we've been making lithographs, and our assignment was to create a modern day bestiary, or an animal that illustrates some moral. My solution to this problem was to make a hipster otter, or a hipstotter. Of course, no good hipster would admit to being a hipster so he's actually an "(i'm not a) hipstotter". (Also, as a side-note, this is an interesting and slightly life changing article about hipsters.)

I think he turned out quite well. Of course, killing myself making a seven color print wasn't enough, and I decided he needed to be put in some different situations. 

"Did someone steal my fixed gear bike?"

"Nevermind. Here it is."

"I liked this artist before he even started making art."

"You probably wouldn't understand my art, it's really conceptual."

Yep. That's pretty much it. 

All work Copyright 2011 Sarah Lee

Things on my Camera, or The parts of my life worth documenting

I sometimes leave the photos on my camera for a very long time. It's like a visual documentation of my life, but only the certain parts that were deemed worthy to be captured on camera. Here's a snippet of my life:

1. Pierre and Harriet (And Brian, I guess)
or
While Christie was getting instructions from some kite enthusiasts

2. You don't even understand how much I love my roommates
or
I'm glad you at least like me

3. Why would I need to prank my roommates when this is a common occurrence in our apartment?
or
There are remnants of my last apartment consuming paper project reflected in the mirror

4. How sketchy was that Super 8?
or
Surprisingly, there were still people in that room

5. Pierre returns, this time in a much nicer climate

or

I need to work on my tan

 6. Half an hour into having half of every duo
or
Solution: take a photo

5. Every time I see these photos I laugh
or
Peace and blessings, PEACE AND BLESSINGS

6. Azusa Pacific
or
If Bethel Put This On Our Buildings I Would Consider Transferring

7. Lion Dances, NOT Line Dances
or
40 Minutes before Willis Tried to Learn to Dougie

 8. Huntington Beach
or
How is Rachael so Damn Sexy?

9. San Francisco Museum of Modern Art
or
Apparently Ad Reinhardt Owns My Soul

 10. No longer on my camera, but you know it deserves to be here anyway
or
How could you ever resist that winking man in a snuggie?

I'm working on my social skills

I sometimes feel insanely socially awkward. Actually sometimes isn't quite right, it's more like a lot of the time. I blame it on my parents. (I've found that I can blame a lot of things on my parents.) They're both introverts, and somehow thought it would be a good idea to homeschool me for 12 years. Yeah, that's right, 12 years. That's like 57% of my life. I'm slowly recovering. However, I also have this brother (actually I have 2, but the other one is not as relevant to this conversation). He was only homeschooled for like 37% of his life. He's also one of the most likable, outgoing, and friendly people I know. Ridiculous. How did I not get these genes? Did my years of homeschooling make me this awkward? I'd like to think so. Sadly, I'm fairly certain I have no one to blame for this but myself.

I was going to relate a story that I thought illustrated my utter social awkwardness, but in reality I'm not sure it does.

Whatever, it's still a good story.

I once had a best friend. We met when I was in 3rd grade and she was in 2nd. We were inseparable. We hung out all the time, played with our beanie babies, formed secret clubs, and talked about boys. We were friends into middle school and junior high. Then it all changed. We were on a church skiing/snowboarding/tubing trip. And, like most jr high girl's conversations, the topic was boys. This friend had a crush on a certain boy, and asked me a question. If this boy ever asked me out, would I tell her? This boy was clearly not interested in me, and the chances of him ever asking me out were slim to none. As a 15 year old, I was lacking the wisdom I now posses and told her I would not. At the time I thought my reasoning was sound. I didn't want to hurt her feelings and this whole situation was preposterous, so why would I tell her? Wrong decision. She became exceedingly angry that I would ever keep this hypothetical event from her. I'm pretty sure that fight lasted for a while. I remember a bus ride where we passed notes back and forth about it. Yep, we passed notes. Apparently having an actual conversation was out of the question. After that, our friendship just kind of died off. At least that's how I remember it. I think if I asked her she would have a completely different version of the story, and probably doesn't even remember this conversation/fight. I'm pretty sure it's my fault we're not friends anymore.

I don't talk to her now. She goes to my school and every once in a while I pass her in the hall. At first I didn't acknowledge that I knew her, but now we nod and smile feebly. I always think about how we used to be best friends, 6 or 7 years ago. If we met for the first time now would be become friends? Are we totally different people than we were 7 years ago? I'd love to ask her, maybe go to coffee or lunch sometime, but I'd feel too awkward about it.

Strangely enough, I'm still good friends with that boy. He never asked me out.

Maybe I'll tell him this story.

Carcinogens and Final Washes

My photography class is going to kill me. And it won't be a pleasant death, surrounded by good art and warm lighting. No, it's going to be a slow, painful death. I expect chemicals to seep under my skin and the darkroom safelight to flicker dimly in the distance. I'll be suffocating under piles of rejected prints with horrible contrast and too much dodging and burning, all while I slowly suffer through hours and hours of developing time. The final wash will just keep running, flooding the room with water until my hundreds of dollars of photo supplies are all ruined.

There's no question about it, that's how it's all going to end.


Okay, it's not actually that bad. It's actually kind of awesome. However, it is bad enough that I don't have time to expand on my love/hate relationship with photography. Another time perhaps.

It's also bad enough that I just don't have time to write anything interesting on this blog. It's sad, actually. This blog is so young I think I'm stunting its growth by rejecting it like this.

Sooooo Canada, eh?

I lived in Canada for 8 months, so obviously I am an expert on that fine country. As it is, I have a few things to say about it.

1. Eh

Yes, Canadians do say "eh" no matter how vehemently they tell you that they do not. More frequently, however, they say "hey." That's right. "Hey." As in, this is a blog about Canada, hey? Let me break down how this works. You say a statement. For instance, "That's a really nice cow." After your statement, you say, "Hey" in a quizzical tone of voice, thus turning your statement into a question. "That's a really nice cow, hey?" What? Do they have trouble deciding if they want to say something definitive or ask a question, and they just can't make up their minds until the very last minute? I just imagine the thoughts racing through their minds.

         Do I tell her it's a horribly ugly dress, or do I ask her? Tell her or ask her? I don't knooowww!!! "That's a horribly ugly dress..." Oh shoot, that was too mean! Too direct! Maybe if I change it into a question! ".... hey?" Aaaahhh problem solved.

Or maybe it's a confidence thing. They simply aren't sure of anything they say, and need constant approval.

         "Justin Bieber is the greatest, hey?" I don't actually know if this person likes Justin Bieber or thinks he's a complete loser, but by adding hey to the end of my statement I will force them to either agree or disagree and save me from horrendous embarrassment and shame.

I have to admit. That might be a good plan. Ironically I totally knew some people in Canada who's last name was Bieber. They were great. So much more quality than Justin Bieber.

2. All-Dressed Chips

Greatest invention ever. Why don't we have these in the states? Seriously, so delicious. It's like a cross between salt and vinegar and barbeque chips. No more standing in front of a 50 foot (or 15 meter) wall of chips trying to decide what you're in the mood for. Last time I went to Canada I bought a big bag of these to bring home and shoved them in one of my carry-ons. At the airport they were searching everyone's luggage twice, once by machine and once by hand, pulling most of the stuff out of the bags. When the lady pulled a full sized bag of potato chips out of my backpack it was a little awkward. I sheepishly told her that we didn't have them in the states. Once I got back to Minnesota I hoarded them and slowly consumed them, almost breaking into tears when I reached the last chip.

3. University Colleges

Will someone please explain to me what the heck a University College is? What exactly is the difference between a Canadian college and university? Because no matter how many people I ask, no one seems to have a comprehensive explanation. Do Canadians even know? After some in-depth googling, I have some answers. Of course, these answers did come from an e-how article that contained the sentence, "Entrance to University programs are as competitive as ever." Really? Yep, still have some questions.

4. Quebec

Do I really need to say anything more?

Now, lest anyone think I hate the fabulous country of Canada, let me just say for the record that I love Canada. Love it. My 8 months there were incredible beyond belief. I hope someday soon to see more of it than just British Columbia, but the little corner I did see was absolutely breathtaking. But really people? "Kraft dinner?" "Tuques?" Ridiculous.