Pardon my once again leaving you all at a cliffhanger with regards to my life. I'll try to paint you an adequate synopsis of my life which ironically enough, would include none the juicy tidbits you come here for:
-I live in Toronto now.
-As of this morning, I now have a room in residence.
-I think I just spent all my shoe money on Kleenex and Ajax.
-I'm supposed to be at some residence barbecue thing in the next half hour.
-I still haven't posted photos from Japan.

Aaaaaaaaand in the spirit of how I normally operate, I'm going to post photos of something quasi-interesting to give you a reason to comment on this post without actually reading into the context at all.


So this is my room in all of its glory (well, sans bathroom but if you've ever stayed at a Delta hotel, I'm sure you can construct a vivid enough mental image) Please note my shoes in the window which are becoming sun faded to enhance their tuscanesque flavors.


My bed. Also see: How to die a virgin. (Though not nearly as... "elaborate" as some may describe my bed at home.)


My couch.


My desk. Alternately, the reason I now need to buy another table for my sewing machine. This is complete with ParaParaParadise, Beatmania, my dharuma, biohazordous waste disposal unit, OtaFest ribbons and the plaid flannel with trout print which I intend to turn into a bustierone of these days.

And there you have it!

Happy 18^th birthday to me. I get to vote now, sign my own waver forms and can finally play my own games on Newgrounds.com! Thats about all the difference it makes to me.

As you can possibly conclude by reading this, yes, I am indeed back in Canada. I'm not quite at that point where I'm sick of recounting the same stories of my travels to different people but I refrain from articulating the juicy details to you as a precaution to such an inevitable outcome. So instead, I'll talk about my timetable this year! (Er, rather, I hate printing junk like this so I'm copying and pasting it and putting it here for reference. Just flaunting the most basic of my html skills, you know how it goes.)

My first semester consists of the following courses. I'm really excited in a way but at the same time I'm thinking, "Great. I'm spending almost $20,000 to take the same crap I've had shoved down my throat for the past six years in fashions class. If you did more with my portfolio than flip through it, giving each page a recognition of over ten seconds, maybe it would become apparent to you that I'm pretty well acquainted with a sewing machine. kthxbibi4nao"

( Semester 1 )

Second semester sounds a bit more promising. If you've read this far, congratulations. I'll have to cast a medallion for you as I sit through yet another lecture about the history of the Spinning Jenny.

( Semester 2 )

And finally, we have Liberal Studies courses. I get to choose one for my second semester of this my narrowed down list. These sound way way cooler than say, Textiles I. I'm leaning toward either "Popular Culture" or "Problems in Philosophy" for the time being. Feel free to sway my boat how ever you like.

( Liberal Studies Courses )

Other than that, I've been busy lately. Every morning new, more ridiculous things come up. I have this huge pile of paper work and I have no idea what the hell any of it is for. If you asked me what was in it, I could tell you about two scholarships for my Union I still have to write for $2,000 a piece; only drawback is that they have to be between five and ten pages long. Call me crazy but I don't think I can rant on that long about "the advantages of Unions" and "why Wal-Mart is destroying the world" and beat every point to death to uber Liberal union big wigs who have not only seen and heard it all but have probably written the book.

Me being too tongue-in-cheek for my own good:
"Hello, Wal-Mart is very bad because they are a multi billion dollar corporation meaning that they have a lot of money. If they have all that money which makes them very very rich, than how come it is that their employees can not even afford to shop at Wal-Mart which as stated on their web page and every other piece of propaganda they perpetuate, is very very not expensive meaning poor people should be able to access it? Poor people such as those who work at Wal-Mart and do not make very much and do not get what you call raises (meaning more money) which the multi billion dollar corporation Wal-Mart should be able to afford just as they should be able to afford to hire more employees but don't because that is more expensive than hiring a few employees and then the prices would have to be raised and as studies have shown, that would decrease the amount of sales an-" Okay, I just felt my IQ drop. I think I should go to bed now.

JAPAN IS TO HAPPEN TOMORROW. I MAY BE ENGULFED IN FLAMES ON MY WAY THERE, BECOME HIDEOUSLY DISFIGURED AND DEAD AND MAY NEVER RETURN. OTHERWISE I WILL BE BACK AUGUST 2^ND.



Please expect the biggest frickken' photodump upon my arrival.

Its not my fault. Its my dad's but that doesn't mean I should have my face held up to the phone to call him and beg for money. Just because my dad left my mom doesn't mean it was my fault. I WAS FIVE FUCKING YEARS OLD. WHAT THE HELL COULD I HAVE DONE TO MAKE HIM LEAVE? NOTHING. I don't even think I have a dad so what point is there in me calling that stranger who we're still I'm still connected for money that I know he doesn't even have? And to yell at me for "sucking my grandparents dry" when shes the one borrowing money from them all the time and she somehow convinces herself is for me. AND AT THE SAME TIME, my grandparents are offering to pay my tuition and shes telling them no- telling them no right in front of me on the phone and then reminding me that I deserve to have to pay for it myself. FUCK WOMAN, THEY ARE OFFERING ME A CHANCE IN LIFE. I AM NOT ASKING FOR THIS. I never ask for ANYTHING. Thats why its so hard for me to confront people like my dad who I don't even know. And all the while being allowed no chance to state my input, no chance to even speak and if I manage to say anything, I'M PUNISHED. I can't say SHIT. I'm not allowed to make productive use of my time as she always traps me and makes me listen to her. I can't do SHIT. I live with somebody who changes their mind 50 times a day, freaks out about every little thing, especially "clutter" (which I have given up on trying not to create as its never good enough for her) and despite boasting about me to everyone she knows, treats me like SHIT.

So it seems that I am SHIT. That is what I am worth and that is what I amount to in the eyes of some cranky old woman who can't get her priorities straight. I don't pity her anymore, I have no sympathy to her. Explicitly using the excuse "[I do this to you] because you're my child" is not an excuse at all. If I've learned anything from her its to pick and choose my battles; my father is not worth going to for money just as my mom isn't worth going through the bureaucracy of the legal system to seek monetary justice from.

Contrary to my last entry, I guess the "reflection" paper for PD in the arts needn't be about how the course "helped" us. In any case, I'm sharing it with you, mostly to get it off my hard drive.

The common denominator of my life up to present can easily be described as preparation for a flourishing career as a fashion designer. I was born as the daughter of a high-school art teacher, which has given to me a creative environment in which I have been free to experiment and hone my skills for the past seventeen years^*. At a very young age, I took to drawing as my craft of choice and practiced it at any given opportunity, regardless of the setting. My subject of choice just so happened to be people - as I have been endlessly fascinated by how one chooses to express themselves in the most literal way possible; what they wear and how they wear it.

I see myself as an innovator of something new and unseen before. To me, “art” isn’t limited to one medium, one subject or one credo (I say this coming from having an extensive background in both the visual and performing arts) but personally, I establish the worth of any piece of art on the basis of its innovation, gauging of a new genre or movement. From the age of five, you can be trained and spoon-fed musical knowledge to become a “brilliant” pianist. You can be an “artist” who never deviates from realism; painting what they know, what they see in front of themselves every day. But these people’s titles are by no means synonymous with “creator”. Those who infer themselves as artists but do not explore, create or stray beyond the unabstract thought process of comprehension, are no better than money traders or any other faceless, high ranking business executive who works by profit motivation alone, without bettering society. Regurgitation of familiar imagery is a pointless endeavor.

This being said, my critical goal as a fashion designer is to present imagery which the general population is unfamiliar with. Particularly with fashion design, this by no means a simple undertaking. Like any other art form, every trend eventually succumbs to obsolescence and if it’s lucky, it may resurface for a short while. Fashion is a catalyzed model of this certainty; trends are just as contagious as they are implosive. Yet, I see a particular irony with a disturbing tendency of how all new styles are adaptations of former styles- obsolete styles and maybe not so much based on their aesthetics but perhaps on the absence of inspiration among the ruling class of fashion.

Anyone can give mention that the new, the ahead of its time, the outright bizarre will not be accepted with open arms. One of my dissatisfactions with fashion is that too many people, devoid of creativity, enter the field in hopes of making a quick buck or two. The easiest way to accomplish this dismal goal is to ride the wave and produce a line of clothing exactly on par with every other collection at the time. However, a collection of something revolutionary could either be too threatening or the delicacy the people have been starving for all this time. Given the later is foreshadowing of my career, I will in a way have monopolized the market as I would be the only one capable of delivering a product until one of my fellow bourgeoisie beige designers formulated something of standing equivalent value.

At the same time, I feel as though this general unenthusiasm of clothing by the designers has steered fashion away from art. Slowly, fashion diverges from a vehicle of transmitting intellect and instead becomes yet another depository of recognizable, monotonous things-you-wear-because-you’re-expected-to. I say that this is a far cry from real art. Art should challenge and force people to define, if not challenge their ideologies (and if it’s aesthetically pleasing, all the better!). There is nothing groundbreaking about a pencil skirt and the more it is brought back, the chances diminish.

Art in itself is the one thing which is unquantifiable in society. Of course everything is subject to personal bias but it is ultimately the role of art to invoke response based on ones experiences and values. This is the one area which conventional fact holds no value, where there is no right, no wrong. The abandonment of logic, the trial of meaning. Only you and art.

To me, art has rapidly evolved into something very different than what it had initially meant to me. Art has always been about exploring the crevasse which one can not probe and formulate with logic alone. Up until taking Art 20 IB, I had always placed a particular importance on the visual quality of art alone. However as I was running on an artistic “stuck”, I soon found myself relying on a higher level of intellect invested in each piece to find success. In doing this, I found that my work could reach a greater audience by incorporating the introduction of critical questions to my work to gain more than a shallow acknowledgement from the viewer and invoke a real response.

Content aside, my career goals should become more available to me as I’ve been accepted into the Ryerson University school of Fashion. My decision was based just as much on their scholarly reputation as it is my desire to network. Toronto (being Canada’s fashion capital) is oozing with opportunities for prospective fashion designers to enter the field in an environment which is supporting of the industry. From the graduating fashion collection, I would hope for my work to catch the eye of a company where I could put my talent to work in a way which would give me a taste of the structure of a larger design label. This would however, not be a permanent career setting for me as ultimately, my goal is to be an entrepreneur and steer success for my own company. Another factor which will indisputably assist me on this prospect is my desire to pursue a minor in business. With luck, this will guide me in to turning my passion into something profitable.

Success will be evident to me as a designer when I have reached my artistic goal of reinventing the fashion industry and introducing to it a new leg to stand on, without which would falter. This is to say that I want to change the way that the jaded perceive fashion and to make it something exciting and new instead of reintroducing the same styles which have had the glamour beaten out of them time after time. Although beneficial to perpetuate a business and a luxurious lifestyle, I see capital as an extraneous matter to my impending legacy. Long after net worth, inspiration will not be forgotten. Success to me as an artist is when my ideas become a valid and respectable statement wherein fashion itself can not be forgotten without mention of my name.

^* - No, not really.

As many words that I have floating around my head, as much as I can pour out from my mind right about now, all that I feel needs to be said can be put aside. For now, I present to you the current TL;DR humming about my conscience. No style, no prose and hardly any respect for syntax. As soon as I type this, I’m going to bed.

Statements about the people I go to school with and any other commentary I feel relevant:

1. My perception of who I used to think was the intellectual, respectable portion of my peers from grade 9-10 has completely changed. I now think of them as the most grading, irritating portion of people I know seeing as every time they don’t get what you want scholastically, they turn it into everybody else’s problem, including the teachers’. I especially hate it when I try to articulate something of interest or expertise of mine to them and what do they do? Shoot down my points because they know everything.

2. When you volunteer, do you do it to make a difference in the community as a selfless act of your civility or do you do it with pencil and paper in hand, tracking your hours to aggressively collect scholarship bounty? If volunteering counted as nothing more than volunteering alone, devoid of even recognition, would you still do it? Think about it. I for one have a line blurred between “volunteering” and common courtesy. One may think its selfish to have a “do what you care about” policy but upon further inspection, I give because what I do is something I love and I accomplish one hell of a lot more than if I were doing it simply to fulfill a certain time-caped requirement for some sort of compensation.

3. Next person who I hear complain about how [drunk/stoned/high/fucked/behind in their homework they got because of any of the above/many classes they missed in substitution of any of the above] they got, GETS PUNCHED CLEAR IN THE FACE. Ingesting any mind altering substance is not the matter of “Oops! The wind!” These are all personal choices one makes. Some choose to make them, others don’t. I thought it was beat into people’s heads since grade two about taking ownership for their actions but it appears that elementary education has failed its purpose if some who engage in such activities come out of what they perceived to be a fun experience, flat out whining.

4. Is it just me or is there something morally wrong with teachers telling kids what bars to go to after school?

5. I don’t see why having a cell phone detecting device for exams is such a controversy. If my phone rings in class, Grandma has died. If you can’t go two hours one afternoon without your umbilical cord to the social grapevine, GOD MOTHER-FUCKING BLESS YOU.

6. The demeaning comment made towards GATE at the grad ceremonies was unacceptable. I’m not saying that GATE is the perfect program but by no means is lesser to IB. GATE was designed to be an enriched curriculum whereas IB was meant to be a rigorous international curriculum where students are given the option to pursue university transfer credits. TWO TOTALLY SEPARATE THINGS. Sure, there are a lot of kids who had a high IQ in grade 4 who still stick it out in GATE to grade 12 even though their intelligence has expired but there are individuals in IB who just happen to have exceptional study skills, not necessarily creativity, wit or exceptional talent outside of what can be “learned”. GATE is also not a fall back option for people who don’t succeed in IB. No former IB students have been granted this privilege and even some GATE to IB, prospectively back to GATE students have been denied. Would you not think that this is a reason? I have 30 IB credits and 55 GATE credits. Consider my opinion informed.

7. Piggybacking off my last point and point 3, if you knew that all you were going to do was bitch about being in IB, did it ever occur to you that maybe you shouldn’t have been in IB in the first place? I listened to the same IB orientation speakers as the rest of you did and they pretty explicitly said “If you are in IB, you will have no life.”

8. Congratulations on choosing to pursue a career as a [lawyer/doctor/engineer/stockbroker/faceless, high-ranking business executive]. Don’t you dare look down on me for pursuing a career as a fashion designer. I’m going to University just like the rest of you and for somebody to lower the letter count in their words as soon as I mention my passion is outright diminishing. Bring the subject up with me in another ten years; that is if I can hear you through my fat seven digit annual wage.

9. Starbucks was not worth being mentioned over 9,000 times at grad- it is simply a place that smells really good and has Wi-Fi where you can purchase moderately overpriced luxury beverages which are usually served cold. I’m not a true cynic- I buy Chai tea there when it is convenient because that stuff is hard to make but it is by no means the product of my uncontained worship. Refer to the end of point 5 for what I think about people who show up late very day to class with Starbucks.

10. False political advocacy is worse than not doing anything at all. I’ll bet you that nine out of ten times I ask someone at our school why they hate George Bush, they will say “because he is stupid” or “because he is making his own citizens die in a civil war half way around the world”. Congratulations! You have cable and have watched CNN and got 1/4 of a joke on the Daily Show! People who blindly stand up for things sound familiar. Oh right, that uber conservative archetype easily persuaded Liberals hold of the redneck with the flagpole outside his trailer, rifle at his side and takes everything in the Bible out of context. False political advocacy is no better. Good to know you joined some Facebook group which claims to aid the current status of Burma, glad to see that that bag you’re carrying has abstract green friendly wording scribbled all across it. Shame to see that if you had really bothered to read the groups information, you would have noticed that the group is no more than a social badge and that bag is 20% rayon.

11. Just because Encyclopedia Dramatica hasn't deleted all of your updates, doesn't mean you'd last 10 seconds in my neigh/b/orhood.

TL;DR - OH HOW I CAN NOT WAIT TO DISASSOCIATE MYSELF FROM ALL THE STUPID FUCKS WHO SURROUND ME.

Everybody else my age can't be pulled away from their mental calendar as they count down the days until their education draws to a close. I on the other hand, wouldn't be able to give you an answer past "Ungh... Sometime this month?" This isn't because my legacy transcends nowhere past my Facebook page or because I have no plans for my future (Although I do on occasion partake in such carnival squander in the tongue-in-cheek way I approach 90% of the rest of my life's happenings) I've pretty much known my destiny to this point since I was in the eighth grade without any real road map to where I was well aware I'd land up. Pardon my flirting around the point. My point is, I'm shutting myself out to how much school is left for me because I don't want it to end. School ending would imply a deadline for assignments which I am slowly cranking out. I can't get out of this miserable pit fast enough and yet I hang around anyway.

On the topic of "Out of my graduating class of about 600, I'm probably one of about 50 who actually has their shit together and will probably achieve a comfortable and permanent life", Professional Development in the Arts 35: What a joke that has turned out to be! In short, I think the idea was that it would be a class to encourage students to pursue postsecondary education in the arts by crediting their lengthy, rigorous portfolio preparations. In reality, like most other classes I've had the misfortune of being in, it turns out that all that work I put into getting to University can be thrown right out the window in substitution for hour logs, research papers ("What influences your art?" Nothing. My art isn't reactionary. Its revolutionary. I am uninspired and happen to act on it. And don't dock me marks for being a smart ass), job shadowing (Remember how I was supposed to go work fashion retail for a day but that fell through because the teacher didn't want to have to organize it any further? Yeah, because thats why I'm going to University all the way across the country, to get a degree in fashion design so I can fold clothes in a sweatshop at the mall. I just happened to have an extra $70,000 kicking around my bedroom and a bizarre urge to waste four years of my life.) and a "What this course meant to me" paper (Which I'm sure, as you can see I will have no problem doing). Once again, I'm cramming my effort, my gift to the world into a metaphorical ice cube tray known as the curriculum, cutting around the edges and pouring leftover ham fat into the rest of the slots.

I should have come to expect this by now. I'm almost done and then I can at least attempt to piece myself together without my introspective conversation being interrupted by a normal curve yelling at me to find its derivative.

In other news, OtaFest happened a few weeks ago. I didn't win anything in the competition but I won 2^nd runner up, Ms. OtaFest which was nice to be recognized for all the effort I put into my Eternal Sailor Moon cosplay. I'd attempt to write a more conclusive synopsis to balance out the 60,000,000,000,000 photos taken of me that weekend but there really wasn't much to say about OtaFest this year. I think two photos will have to suffice:


Eternal Sailor Moon!


Eternal Sailor Moon lookin' up Audrey's skirt...

Far further down on the list of importance is that I graduated. Graduation is all pretty ridiculous. I think its more so a (now) customary passage of rights in combination of a celebration for all the kids who had doubts as to whether or not they would even graduate in the first place. Less long than the banquet for Benson's grad last year, but just as boring. What I liked about mine was how much everybody just blatantly talked through the banquet instead of making any efforts to conceal their dissatisfaction. Pictures ensued:


Princess Serenity and Tuxedo Kamen. Would you really expect any less of me?


Apart from me cheating the dress to look more interesting than it was and extreme impromptu back lighting, this isn't a very good photograph.

So she can say anything she wants to me in terms of personal insults, punishment and threats. The second I do so much as respond to one of my mother's rhetorical snide remarks as means of defending myself, I get punished. I ask why and I get punished again. So by trying to seek justification, I instead get "privileges" taken away, chores or slapped. Then somehow she claims that what what ever I've expressed about my disregard for the situation is abuse and calls up her mom or her friends and plays victim. Yet if I try to obtain a healthy conversation with a third party to ease myself in the heat of the moment and maybe regain some self-esteem after having it all shat on by who I am convinced is the devil incarnated, all of a sudden I'm "betraying" her and am subject to even more punishment. All because I'm the kid and shes the parent. How democratic.

What the hell is wrong with this woman!? I'm really surprised that I don't have some serious mental disorder having been raised by her. But in a way, I feel as though I've raised myself. Weeks can go by and I don't even remember I have a father and yet this is at the front of her mind constantly and she frequently regenerates reasons it's my fault he left her. She yells at me every day. I end up a crying mess every night. Sure I'm not a child soldier in Africa or what ever but I have a hell of a lot more reasons to be self loathing than most of the kids I know who perpetuate themselves in self-proclaimed depression. And yet I'M NOT. I'm a genuinely happy and carefree person until my mom comes along and tears me down like this. Maybe thats my mental disorder. Maybe I should have killed myself ages ago. Maybe its hopeless for me after all and I've just been lucky enough to ride through the turbulence thus far. I don't want to wait for her to realize she has a great kid after all.

Despite the stress and struggle my dad has caused by leaving, I respect him so much for getting away from her while he could. As for me? I'm the kid.

I don't think I've watched an anime in two or three years and even so, it was probably Trigun or something made before 1998. Not Bleach, not Death Note, Not Full Metal Alchemist, not name of most exciting new anime fresh out of Japan to be bastardized by North American fans immediately, and yet still, every time somebody even mentions OtaFest, I swear I get a heart palpitation.

Sure, I'm disgusted with 80% of the OtaGoers:
(The large, 15 and out of control glomp-me-I-luv-bishies whores: 40%,
the cosplaying for the novelty: 20%,
the Gothic Lolitards: 12%,
the self proclaimed /b/ prophecies: 5%,
the freaky over 30-somethings, possibly with Aspets syndrome: 3%.)
But funny how a few weeks before every OtaFest, even this year when I'm blowing all my money on hair extensions the weekend before, I have the world in common with these people; the short-term reason of my being is some anime convention.

WHOSE GOING TO OTAFEST 2008?!
WHOSE GOING TO VOTE FOR ME FOR MS. OTAFEST 2008!?

So I got my acceptance latter to Ryerson yesterday. Sure I'm excited but I'm not surprised. Then again I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't get in either though based on some dumb technicality- Seldom am I ever rejected when I try my best; I usually just miss part of the big picture is all.

No more Calgary. No more yuppies. No more mom. No more stupid "Western Pride". No more lame Calgary raves. No more kids who I've grown to hate over the past six years... It would seem that I've grown exponentially and everyone else is still a selfish little seventh grader looking for their next keg.

Ever still, I have a bunch of homework to get done with. I'm still not done what was due for Spring Break given I did my application portfolio and then had my Japanese exchange students. Yet I'm still applying more effort into finishing my dress for OtaFest. This acceptance couldn't have come at a worse time- I'm not really motivated to work but at the same time, I've been riuding a creative null for a couple months.

Living in the moment produces goals, ironically enough:
- Finish homework
- Apply for more scholarships
- Loose ten more pounds for OtaFest
- Start selling jib to have money to pay for $600 hair extensions next week...
- Meet up with friends and teach them our choreography for OtaFest
- GTFO LiveJournal

These next couple of weeks are basically going to be an academic write off so I may as well start them tonight and blog instead of doing my mind blowing amounts of homework.

First and foremost, tomorrow night at 6:00, I'm picking up my Japanese home stay kids who are going to be here until the 25^th. Of course, being Japanese and everything, they're going to be absolutely WHACK. More or less really polite and easygoing but just you wait my radiant darlings of the orient, I pledge to make your Canadian field trip experience WHACK (Also, I solemnly swear to kill you both or set you into a coma by feeding you copious amounts of carbohydrates, cholesterol and the meats)

Next of all, my IB Art exam is this Tuesday so I get to put my heart out on a plate and explain why I draw on sticky notes everyday and how that relates to justifying human values. Just thought you should be in that loop.

Today I also found out that my Hot Topic order from January 18^th has been sent back to the states, ONCE AGAIN. You see, my aunt's mail carrier is a douche vat and didn't put the "We kindly urge you to pick up your parcel" tag on my aunts door back in February when the order came so it got signed for in Tennessee and then returned to the company where they tried to re-send it to us in Canada and the mail carrier didn't drop off the tag yet again. Thus my $250 order resides in Toronto and they aren't allowed to just ship it back to us. It has to go back to the states and then re-sent back to Canada. Best of all, we aren't allowed to issue complaints, only Hot Topic is authorized to. I'm a have to pull open a can of "public interest story on Global news of corporate injustice" on this bastard, I will. And everybody said... YATTA!!

Also, barely related to my first point, I found some Manic Panic in my closet from Grade 9 and died my hair since Japanese kids make it so I don't have to work for the next two weeks.


YEAAAAAH.

I finished everything up on Thursday morning and I mailed my portfolio out later that day to be couriered by Friday afternoon. There. Now I'll shut up about it and if I don't get in, I'll seriously puke. Now I'm cleaning up my house for my Japanese homestay girls that are coming this Friday. I'm fricken' PUMPED.

Kay, here is my portfolio and then you NEVER HAVE TO LOOK AT IT EVER AGAIN.



Eternal Sailor Moon Cosplay


Pants


Princess Sailor Moon Cosplay (Also Grad dress)


Ladie's Evening Wear (Pencil Crayon)


Swimwear (Watercolor)


Men's Casual Wear (Photoshop)


Children's Wear (Pencil Crayon)

So whatdaya think?

No, I don't talk about ANYTHING else if you haven't noticed.


Women's Formal Wear. All done except for coloring in the lips and eyes as well as cleaning up and trimming the background.


I'd like to consider the term "men's casual wear" relative. This is just the line art. I'm going to render it in Photoshop. I really don't like how this looks now because all the bits that I have meshed in are supposed to represent a lime mesh overlay on black, so in reality would be the lighter areas.

So, what do you think? :/

Apart from being $230.⁰⁰ (which includes shipping), I would consider these well worth it. Especially because they're pretty much the last pair and will be here within the week.

Well, I've accomplished something (but even so, I'm not finished and feel although I've accomplished butt-fuck nothing) These are part of the drawing portion of my portfolio submission. It's supposedly "women's evening wear". I have to draw the back view in but I left my Research Work Book at school so this is as far as I'll get right now.


This is the rough coup, just to give you an idea of the colors. Not quite fixed on the blending on the bottom of the outer dress layer... If you can't tell, its supposedly a mushroom cloud... She has chemical equation things all over the top too!


This is my good copy that I'm handing in. I have yet to add colors so this is all you get for now.

Edit:
I finished the back version too:

"Dear MJ,

As an applicant to the Bachelor of Design - Fashion Design program, the Admissions Committe and the Faculty are pleased to invite you to send a portfolio. Your portfolio submission must be received by the School of Fashion by the following deadline date: April 4, 2008."

"Dear Ryerson Admissions Committee and Faculty,

lol gtfo"

For the first time in as long as I can remember, when people have been asking me how I am, I've been answering something other than "Fine. How do you do?" and rather "really really super stressed because of University Portfolio crap". This is so emotionally tolling one me and I'm sure I'm bringing a lot of it on myself (I'm sure somebody has applied to Ryerson with pajama pants and has gotten accepted to their Fashion Design program) but the workload from Social Studies and Math kind of prevent me from making any substantial progress in Fashion Studies or Art. Also, my IB Office examination is April 14^th and as far as Ryerson has implicitly told me, I should know whether or not I got accepted by the specific date of "early May"... Uh, thanks?

On top of everything, I got my diploma marks back yesterday and I got 80% in Physics (Giving me a course mark of 78%; not bad considering I was just taking the course for the sake of it, not really ever needing to calculate the magnetic fields of solenoids anytime in the near future) and 69% in LA... Um, is it just me or is there a slight discrepancy between that and my course mark of 88%? And the kicker is that I got 78% on my multiple choice (I got 59% as my highest mark for that in class) and 60% on my written portion (I never got a grade lower than 98% in the course) I worked my ass off in that class and Cancilla sure as hell didn't give away free marks where they weren't due. Worst of all, this puts my mark at 79%- 1% off of meeting the Rutherford scholarship standards (bye bye $1600!) I think I'm going to pay $20 to get it remarked because I thought I kicked the snot out of the written. The marker probably didn't even read Hamlet.

But on the bright side, my Sailor Moon cosplay isn't giving me much hassle yet. It was somewhat euphoric holding up the skirt's layers today and being able to see how much it looked like Sailor Moon.

DEAR EVERYBODY ON MY FRIENDS LIST!
EVERYBODY!

I really don't give half a crap about grad but I do about my grad dress only because its going to be one of my garments for my Ryerson application. Anyway, since OtaFest is the weekend before and I'm cosplaying as Sailor Moon, I'll have my 50 inch hair extensions in so I thought I may as well do a princess Sailor Moon cosplay for grad as well. But, I'm stuck when it comes to which version I should do... So I ask of you, the collective people of LiveJournal that whether you know me like a father or only by my abbreviated first name, you give me some input between the dresses:

DRESS ONE

DRESS TWO

Regardless of which one I do, it wouldn't be made in white because that isn't allowed for my application. The second one would probably be light purple and if I did the first, it would be light purple, light pink or gold. What do you think for color as well?

????

These things persist to painfully remind me; funny how mundane things fill you when you're the most empty and leave a wound that has started to fester again:

Smaller neighborhood Safeways after dark
Thinking too hard about math
My labret piercing
Returning my SkullCandies because I got red dye all over them from my bloody weeding dress
Safeway's meal deal
In the Groove
The Leather Pocket
My white corset
That snail I drew on the floor at school in that one hall under the staircase
That one hall under the staircase
Falling asleep on the couch and waking up to wind chimes
Dancemania Trancemania and Fantasia series, especially on the way to my Math tutor
My pink nurses dress
Safeway Signature salads
The song The Beggining
Social Studies
When the size of my manga collection amounted to something fulfilling
House sitting for my aunt

I'm happy now. I'm happy now. I'm happy than I've ever been now. Stop it you idiot, stop remembering all the things that remind you of that numb feeling. You amount to something more you idiot, idiot, IDIOT.