November Part I
11-2-02
Who is that Man?
So you'd think that after an entire week I'd at least have something of which to make a comic from. Especially since I used to draw one every day. But no, I could not think of one. I'm so behind. There's so much to say, but I know that if I write too much, I will lose a lot of readers due to textual overexposure. So I will try to restrain myself somewhat.
First off, I'm somewhat off the hook with my color theory class. My teacher moved all due dates to December. Extraordinary. I am continually amazed by the teachers at this school. They are all so...relaxed. I am really happy that my 2D Design class has started Adobe Photoshop. The first assignment is blending photographs into one - like creating fantastical animals. I'm doing a freaky-weird dragon with the head of a viperfish, the body of an iguana, and the wings of a bat. I think I might add a few other features and a volcanic background as well. So far it looks really cool. I love this class.
Wednesday my boss and the Shadow were curious to know whether I was going to dress up for Halloween. Now I'm not big on witches and goblins and devils, but I find the prospect of diguising myself as someone or something unrecognizable as myself to be quite appealing. In fact, I've not gone a Halloween yet not dressed up in some way. It's sort of an artistic expression. At first I wasn't going to dress up at all because my pastor is so against Halloween in general and I did begin to wonder whether celebrating a day of the devil was a good thing afterall. But I reasoned that I wasn't worshiping Satan or something by wearing a disguise on a day it is acceptable to wear a disguise. I do it for the candy and the thrill of being unrecognizable.
The problem was that I had nothing to wear. At first I considered pulling out my old Callisto get-up. An eye patch, my studded belt and no-sleeve black shirt...big black chunky boots. But it wouldn't be the same without the knife (not allowed on buses or in school) or the spikey braclet (complements of brother Jake previously). I asked the Shadow if he had a spikey wig in jest, and he didn't answer right away. "You do?" I asked. He said he had some wigs he and his friend had purchased the other night for their costumes for a halloween party (He wore a moustache and said he was a doctor). He had a long black punk-rocker wig and a gray wig with a beard. This I jumped at - what fun to be an old man! Who would think it was me? I discussed it with the Shadow and he said he'd see about letting me borrow it.
Now the Shadow didn't actually HAVE the bearded wig, though. His friend did. So I accompanied the Shadow to his house where he called his friend and I met Fred his pitbull. Fred and I were all chummy until he growled. Now I'm not so sure. The Shadow says he sometimes does that with strangers, but not once he knows you. I think I will be cautious around Fred.
I found it curious to be in the Shadows room. It was like jumping into another person's life for just a moment. This was what he saw daily. What he was used to. Where he felt was "home". It was a very dark room (big surprise) and there was a lot of stuff...and even some writing on the wall. It looked as though he'd been there a long time.
We decided to go to SAVERS - a second-hand store brimming with an obscene amount of junk. They had a lot of halloween stuff, but also a lot of JUNK. Old cell phone chargers, a broken film viewer/slicer, pots and pans, used notebooks, old pictures, Happy Meal toys, ghastly clothing items, old shoes, old computer printers, mugs, tape decks, doo-hickeys and dealy-boppers (I found a wooden thing that would unfold and fold up, but what it was used for I couldn't decide). We found one other gray beard, but didn't get it because the Shadow's friend was willing to let me borrow his free. I bought fake skin and liquid latex, then several picture frames. I wanted an old flannel shirt, but it was three fifty and I didn't have enough for it plus the other stuff I was getting, so I said I wouldn't get it. An older lady behind me offered to purchase it for me, but then didn't pursue the matter so I just left. The Shadow said his dad had some flannel I could probably borrow.
The Shadow had called his friend ahead of time on his cell phone, telling him we were coming over to get the wig, but when we got there, his friend wasn't there. This made the Shadow rather unhappy and he cursed the guy for not being polite enough to even call and tell us he was leaving. We thought we'd wait a bit, but it was weird just sitting there in his car so since we both hadn't had supper we decided to go get something while we waited. We went to the IHOP (International House of Pancakes). I had three dollars left after SAVERS so I was searching through the menu for something in my price range. But then the Shadow said for me not to worry about it, that he'd just pay for me and I could get whatever I wanted. So I had biscuits and gravy and he had French toast and we talked about Gummi Bears, Sunday School, and my attending a Mennonite school the first three school years of my life. It was interesting.
So then we went to his friend's again and got the wig. I met his friend's girlfriend and we were mezmerized by his Chinese yo-yo until we left. On the way home I told him about Jeanie's new predicament:
She is NOT being booted, she has simply been ordered to "fix the problem". Jeanie, who had already picked out a new apartment and was excited about getting away from the neighbor and into a bigger place was thrown into a low depressive state. As for the neighbor (David), he has been robbed and taken away in an ambulance. Go figure. He's back now, but still strange and problematic as ever. We are all waiting for him to go off the deep end and do something truly psychotic. We just hope we will not be the victims of his next insane outburst.
So I went to school as an old man. First stop: Cousins, to take pictures of my window paintings and to show the boss and workers my costume. Alfredo (one of the sandwich makers) didn't have a clue who I was, but once it was told, everyone had to come out and peek. I wore an old fishing hat over the gray wig and beard, a trench coat over a sloppy T-shirt, khaki-colored baggy pants, and I had given myself bags under my eyes, crows feet, forehead wrinkles, and a bigger nose with the fake skin. It was great. The bus was fun too. I got a lot of stares and a few comments "Man, I thought that was your real beard at first, heh heh..." I caused a lot of double-takes as people drove by me at the stops too. It was very entertaining. The best part, though, was school.
As I approached my first class, two of my teachers were talking. They saw me and laughed and asked me who I was but I said nothing. I knew if I did they'd hear my voice and know that I was a girl and perhaps even which girl (girls are rare at my college). My afternoon class teacher remarked to my morning class teacher, "Well I'm glad he's not in MY class, ha ha!" Later that day I showed up in her class and she got a real kick out of that irony. That was the class in which I had to reveal my true identity. My classmates actually figured it out first though. I was impressed that they even knew who I was without the disguise.
My favorite part was walking into the women's restrooms throughout the day. That got a lot of goggling looks and laughs. Bing didn't know who I was either until I told him. It was fantastic.
After school Bing took me to a methodist church where they were supposedly having a party. We drove up to Mill Avenue ("where it's at") and saw a few cats on their cell phones (yes, more than one!) and various other costumes. The ones I remember most, of course, were the "flashers". They would dash up to cars and throw open their overcoats (both a guy and a girl). They were really naked except for black "censored" signs stuck over their body parts. I don't know if Bing saw them, but I think he did and was trying to ignore them. I was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
At the church the people were watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show. I've never actually seen it, but what I saw was very strange (and catchy). I found it rather odd that this one guy kept shouting "Castles don't have phones, *#&$%^@!". It was explained to me that the audience is supposed to say and do certain things along with the movie, including this phrase. But it was quite surprising to me that someone would just swear like that in the middle of church (and not just once). Maybe he wasn't from there. I don't know. But the others didn't seem very affected, so I assumed he was.
I didn't get any candy from Halloween. (sniff)
Today was interesting though. I left early to go to the bank to cash my checks, but it was closed. At work we were doing a sort of "fall cleaning" thing. I had to wipe out under the counters and organize the piles of junk under the registers while the guys moved shelves, fridges, metal tables, and chairs outside so the floor guy could strip it and wax it and such. Nearer to closing time, they were moving out the last of the dining room tables (stacking and piling them up in front of the shop) when this guy with his black hair slicked back and a sort of Brooklynish accent came in and wanted to get a meatball sub. He asked how many meatballs came on it and I told him four after consulting Carol. He demanded the freshest bread (it was all mixed up and all the same freshness). I said it was all fresh. He made me go back and ask to be sure he got the MOST RECENTLY BAKED BREAD. I rang him up and he said it wasn't the right price. I was confused (because I was giving him the four-meatball sandwich as requested) until he pointed at the mini subs, saying I was overcharging him. I quickly changed his order to a mini and said as it went through, "You know, that does have fewer meatballs..." He didn't seem to be paying attention to me, the lower life-form, however. I didn't want to have to deal with him anymore. When he got his sandwich I wasn't there, but I came back when he was telling Carol that SHE made a mistake by making the sandwich 'to go'. He wanted to eat in. Carol and I looked at each other. The lobby was empty. There were no table to 'eat in' at! She shrugged and put it in a basket for him. He went outside and pulled a chair off a stack and sat at a table outside the store amidst the pile of lobby furnature. It was ridiculous. Craig labeled him with an appropriate name which I will not repeat.
After work I got home and told myself to do dishes. I turned on my computer. The dishes are still not done. As I was drawing a fish with pastels, laying across the carpet, I heard children outside talking to Jeanie. I finished my fish and went out onto the balcony. Jeanie looked up and greeted me and I told her I had a fish to show her. All the children gathered around and soon they all wanted me to draw them things. I went up and grabbed my pastels and sketchbook and drew all their requests. I wasn't very happy with the sketchy sloppy outcomes, but that's what I get for choosing pastels. A nice man came and was talking to the children, Jeanie and I. At first I thought he was related to some of the children, but soon I found out he was just a nice guy who was new to the apartments (moved here to watch out for his mother). He was all decked out in a suit and tie and had a lip stud under his lower lip (a fairly common thing here in Phoenix). His hair was tied back in a pony tail and he looked really snappy. He seemed to really enjoy the kids and entertained them by showing them yoga. I got a big kick out of his getting down in the grass in his suit and standing on his head. Apparently the kids did too. He came over here in the first place, however, to find David, the druggie neighbor. Apparently he'd met David by chance and saw he was depressed and suggested that they go out and do something fun tonight (isn't he a nice guy?). David is strange though, and even though he was home, he wouldn't answer the door. Perhaps it was the children shrieking and running about. Or maybe he's doing the 'lock myself in my apartment for a week straight' thing. Who knows.
I need to do dishes...I'm such a bum.
11-6-02
Kill the Candy Machine!
I got out of class early. I was overjoyed because this meant I could get home before dark and do LAUNDRY. Yay.
When I ride the bus home, I always get off at the mall to transfer to another bus. Sometimes I have a long wait so I'll go in. Today was one of those days so I went in and explored. I didn't find anything interesting until I went into the toy store. I found a bunch of LOTR toys. They were on sale for $7.00. I wanted Gimmli, but he came with an orc that I didn't really care for and he cost $7.00. So I just looked. I picked up the other kind - Sam and Frodo. Instantly I recognized that something was dreadfully wrong with these figures. The more I stared at them, the more I was convinced that the toys were terribly deformed. The quality was rather high - great detail and the faces were not that far off from the real characters, but both of the hobbits had broken legs! They were just standing awkwardly...the legs were just built wrong. Completely. This girl came up beside me and I pointed it out to her and we tried to put our feet in the positions the hobbits were in. We could do it, so I knew one could place their feet the way the toys had theirs, but still - there was something very wrong. It took me a moment to figure it out - the knees were in the wrong places. They basically bent sideways. The strange thing was, the picture on the back had toys that had correct knees. The girl said I should ask the toy store people about it, that I might be able to get them cheap. I agreed not because I wanted deformed hobbits, but because I wanted to share this dramatic discovery. I thought it very strange. I wondered whether it was the toy designers that messed up or maybe some manager decided at the last minute to change the legs so the hobbits would fit in the boat better and messed them up before mass production. I checked my watch and realized that I had no time for anything - even running out the door!
I ran out to the bus stop, but I'd missed my bus. I decided not to go back inside because I didn't know that I missed it for sure. As time drew on I knew I had. A bus had broken down and spilled gallons and gallons of fuel or some chemical all over. Men came and poured peat moss all over the spills to soak it up, and every time a bus would come (which was quite often) the particles would fly up and fill the air. I think I still have some in my nose. And the way I was dusting my shoulders and head off probably made people think I had dandruff. Oh well.
At the next bus stop I found myself with a companion - another girl who looked about my age. She asked when the bus was coming, and I told her either we just missed it or it would come any second. She said with her luck we missed it. I stood and looked for the bus, but it didn't come. I was disappointed because I knew we'd have to wait a half hour if we missed it. I didn't want to be a wet blanket like most people and just sit and stare and pretend the other person isn't there, so I thought I should do something fun with her to pass the time. I remembered this indian game I learned at the museum up in Montana and decided to teach it to her. I walked around picking up sticks (you need sticks and rocks). Right when I had enough though, I spotted the bus. It was late! Yay! We hadn't missed it.
I was a little sorry for not being able to play the game (she never even knew I even intended to play a game with her), but glad to be heading home sooner.
11-7-02
Revenge of the Thorns part III
As I said before (I think), I wore boots yesterday. All day I would discover little pebbles stuck inbetween the treads and would reach down and poke them free. I became sensitive to the feeling of a rock being stuck in my boot. Thus, when I felt that sensation on my way to work Thursday morning, I naturally reached down to poke it out. Unfortunately it wasn't a pebble. It was one of those blasted thorn burr things! I felt a sharp pain and realized my mistake. I pulled the thorn out with my now-bleeding finger and continued on my way, milking the tiny puncture wound for all it was worth. I heard that bleeding is what keeps bacteria from entering a wound, so I squeezed my finger to make it bleed more. I was mad because this was my right index finger. The one finger I use to take orders with at my cash register. I had to use my middle finger the whole day. What a pain (ha).
Then as I was jogging the last block to work (I was running a little late) I felt this pricking stab in my leg. It was my name tag that I'd put in my pocket (I had removed it from my apron so I could wash it yesterday). I laughed at this point because I felt that God must be preparing me for poking and stabbing since I am giving blood Sunday.
The rest of my day was pretty awful because my mind was just...out there. I remember trying to hand this woman the stamper instead of her freshly stamped card. She gave me an odd look and it took longer than it should have for me to realize what I was doing. Then I dropped several boxes on my head. Maybe that rattled my brain into working order because after that things went pretty smooth.
I talked to the Shadow and he told me about the beagle he used to own that got stomped to death by a horse or cow.
I helped a man carry out some party platters and he gave me a two dollar tip.
The Shadow drove me home and I told him about our pet cat that someone shot when I was a kid and how she limped home to her kittens and died.
At home I opened Kazaa on my computer and went to get Jeanie so she could tell me whether this song I like is Spanish or not. Instead I ran into Martin, the new artist/playwrite neighbor and he offered to feed us both. We accepted and he brought over home-made casadias (sp?) and home-made salsa. It was all very good. Jeanie watched "The Bachelor" and then Martin and she went out to smoke. I joined them (in presence, not in practice) and Martin read me what he's written of his play. He is a very active, spontaneous individual who has a strange fascination with bowler's bellys. He knows several languages, loves to cook, and is very passionate about his writing. This is the fellow who stood on his head for the children.
I fell asleep watching an old video of Gummi Bears and laughed at the White Knight episode:
Medley in the beginning:
He's fought a dragon with his fists
and rescued many damsels
A Mongol horde he's hacked to bits
and trounced a lot of vandals
He's good and pure
and does what's right
There's never been a hero quite
so consciencious and polite
Sir Victor heeeeeeee's
The Great White Knight!
--------------------------------------
Victor (The White Knight): (after defeating several ogres) Surrender rogues! I have thee outnumbered one to five!
Duke Eggthorn (Evil villain): (voice from behind) Modest as ever, Victor...
V: (turning around in surprise) Sigmund!
Toadwart (mini side-kick Ogre): Yes! It's Sigmund!...(looks confused)... Sigmund? (glances up at the Duke)
DE: After all these years, have you no greeting for me dear brother?
V: (in disgust) Not that I care to repeat in mixed company...
DE: Oh cut the Mister Pure-post Vick, you're an Eggthorn! (puts an arm around V)
V: (pushes DE away) Yes. And so I must forever make amends for my family's treachery! (puts back of hand to forehead)
DE: Same as when you were a kid - Always going around protecting the oppressed and saving the downtrodden...What kind of hobby is that for a SIX year old???"
11-8-02
I Wish that I were Strong
I accidently let Bing down Friday night. Literally. His knee gave out and he lost his balance and I just couldn't keep him up. He was fine - I mean, I didn't just let him fall ker-plop to the floor, but that is where we ended up. After much effort I got him to a stool and then to a chair and then everything was okay, but I keep thinking that if only I were stronger, that would never have happened in the first place.
We had a good time eating pizza and talking though before that. I learned about his dogs and told him about the ones we've had. Then we watched some Jurassic Park additional features until we were tired (midnight) and he drove me home.
Before that I basically went to school, showed my teacher my dragon project, and went straight to work. There I took orders and wiped up crumbs and meal as usual. I learned a new Spanish word from my Latino coworkers (soap) and Paul talked to the Shadow about God. It was interesting. I learned a bit more about what he believes - or at least, what he doesn't believe in. Later we talked about how computers work and how you can't talk just before you sneeze even if you want to, and then about how movie knowledge is useless and trivial whereas novel knowledge is worthwhile. Saturday after work he will take me to the comic shop to look at Venom action figures (yay!).
11-14-02
How I Look at Myself
I was just thinking of how all my self-portraits are not smiling, whereas almost all of my comics of me as a cat are. It made me wonder if anyone ever smiles at themselves in the mirror. I consider reflective devices smile-killers. Smiles are for others, not ourselves (unless we are preparing for a photo and are critiquing our silly grins). This portrait was spontaneous. I wanted to draw myself as I feel I look without looking in the mirror. How I remember looking without copying directly. Do I see myself differently than other people? I will ask this fellow sitting next to me (I am typing this at school).
Jo: "Do you think this looks like me?"
Ryan: "Yeah."
Jo: "Yeah?"
Ryan: "Yeah."
Okay so I guess it does. Good. And this opinion is coming from someone I just met so it has to be unbiased, right? Unless he was just trying to be polite...but I didn't tell him that I drew it or that it was supposed to look like me. So it must look something like me. Except I know the eyes are too big and the head is too, but that's just how I draw sometimes.
The other night I was riding my bike home from work and spotted a cat in the open desert field on the left of the sidewalk. I stopped and called to it and it stopped and stared at me. I said "Hey kitty..." and it stared. I tried not to be intimidating. "Mew" I mimicked. It stared. Then another noise arose from the bushes several yards off, "Rrrowww!" A low angry cat sound. I was a bit alarmed, then the cat took off. I looked at the bushes scrutinizingly until I heard the same voice say "Meow!" and then I knew it was a man and not a cat. I got on my bike and pedaled away fast!
I guess it was a homeless guy or something...but man that was creeeeeeepy.
Bing is gone until Sunday out of town because his grandfather died. It wasn't unexpected though. In fact, they were just sort of waiting for it to happen because he had had a stroke and stopped eating and didn't seem to be very cognant. I told him I would direct the bible study, but then afterwards realized that I would have to ride the bus home in the dark (not recommended) if I couldn't find a ride. I spoke with Mia (who is part of the group) and she suggested we hang a sign if I can't find a ride and cancel it. I don't really want to, but I also don't want to be on the bus that late at night. Or on Van Buren that late at night. And I forgot my stun gun.
Manni has just offered me a ride home though. I guess I will be able to stay for the bible study afterall! Preston says that my sketch looks like me, but I don't look that evil in real life. I wonder if that means that I see myself as more sinister than other people do.
11-15-02
Klap-trap
I have been playing Donkey Kong Country. It's addictive. I keep staying up late. Can't get to sleep until 2 a.m. Does this make me an insomniac?
There is a new girl at work named Vanessa. She's really cool. She likes my art and Flogging Molly and...sort of reminds me of me in some ways (though I don't have my tongue pierced). We get along quite well and she agreed that my favorite sandwich "the heavenly sandwich" (turkey, no onions, on parmesian asiago bread) is very delish. She has hair like mine too...and an outgoing demeanor. And she's not put off by that "dark" aspect of my art - in fact, she really likes that part. I think Vanessa will make the day shift a bit more entertaining.
Saturday I might be giving blood, and the Shadow has agreed to take me to the free bone marrow drive Sunday morning. He agrees with me that it is worth it to save someone's life, and he is going to ask his friends if they want to come too. I figure the possibility that I could save someone's life is more important than Sunday school. Sunday school is not a biblical requirement afterall, but loving our fellow human beings is.
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