Feb. 17th, 2005

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Like so many of the stories I tell, I can only preface this by saying it seemed like a good idea at the time. Looking back? Not so much.

I've had more baggage lately than I like. (I like none. None is a great number for me.) Sadly, I have the emotional range of an orange. I'm bad with emotion, and dealing with things in any productive way seems to involve talking, which almost makes things worse. And then, we've been having these "artist presentations" in my three-d class, where people get up and talk about a modern artist and their influence on the genre and so forth, and I thought: "Hey! Performance art! That's how these people deal with stuff. So what I'll do, (oh ho ho, this will be great) is just write it all out on myself, and then take a shower and get it off my back. HA HA. LITERALLY! It will be awesome."

In retrospect I'm seeing two major problems here. First: when faced with a problem, my instinct was to turn to performance art.

Boggle please.

When did this happen? How did this happen? Can I get an intervention? (I don't think I have to explain why this is not cool, but just in case, I am a science major. Not an art student. Science! Realm of facts and numbers and theories and not performance art.)

Second: While permanent marker washes right off hands, it does not wash right off triceps or hips or thighs. Huh. Go figure.

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