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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary


The good, the bad and the plain old retarded

So Iíve made a mental list and Iím attacking all of my projects one at a time.

I spent an entire day freaking out about the estimate for the yoga school. I didnít want to undercharge, but I also didnít want to freak them out with my numbers. So I came up with a quote that was kind of on the cheap side (for me, anyway) and I crossed my fingers and sent it off. It took about a day to get a reponse, and the response was something along the lines of, ďYeah, thatís kind of high for us, but maybe we could just do one component and worry about the rest at a later date,Ē which is pretty much what I thought they would say. Well, truth be told, I originally feared that they would say no to the whole thing then send me weird vibes while I was in class, but my friend Hilary talked me down from the ledge and explained that they would probably ok one idea and not all of them. So I was prepared for their answer, and I feel fine.

So now I have to get cracking on the architecture book project, and sketch on my Top Secret one. Then, to add activity to already frenetic activity, I added that class at Santa Monica College and I am now enrolled in printmaking on Fridays. Actually, Terence and I are both taking the course and itís going to be interesting. (And not just because he and I can get competitive and bratty with eachother.) The teacher is The Dude from The Big Lebowsky: an overweight hippy burnout with no short term memory, the whole thing packaged in an ill-fitting garrish Hawaiian shirt. This guyís goddamn hilarious, and as usual, Terence and I were the only ones laughing. I mean, ok, we were laughing WITH him and AT him, perhaps because weíre the only students who recognize the community college art class teacher from the 1960ís archetype? I was excited when he alluded to his having visited The Factory, and having seen Warholís screenprinting setup. Thatís cool no matter how few brain cells you have left. I didnít have much of an opportunity to scope out the students, except to note that it is the perfect community college sample group: an old man, an even older lady, a bored chatty housewife, a know-it-all motorcycle guy, two Art School girls with ManicPanic hair, and a kid in a skate t-shirt. And a whole slew of pocket homies.

>> A little known fact about LA that you will not read about in a guidebook <<

People in LA are litterbugs. They throw shit out their car windows (cups, papers, etc,) they discard papers and the same shit when theyíre walking down the sidewalk, and they donít even flinch. They pollute with impunity. Itís very strange. In San Francisco, someone, for sure, would say something to you if you carelessly or purposely littered. You would be made to feel bad about your behavior. LA is not a green town. This is nowhere more apparent than in the way Los Angelenos recycle. There is ONE big bin for everything: paper, aluminum, plastic and glass. There arenít separate containers for any of that. It all goes in one container.

On the positive tip, the cool thing about LA is that there is parking everywhere. Itís almost impossible to get a parking ticket, so plentiful are lots and meters (where you can still use nickels and dimes!) and cheap valet stands. Of course, driving is not really green, and people here drive like morons, but hey, I came up with something kind of good about this place so give me a break.

One of my favorite djs signed my guestbook the other day! Though I am super excited about it, I am also mortified because the entry where I talk about him is also the entry where I go on and on about shopping for vagina pants. Embarassment. Now you should all go to his page (www.geocities.com/terrorbullted/index.html ) then tune in to KUSF on live365.com. Iím going to tune it in later for Future Breaks.

2:14 p.m. - 2002-08-31



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