DAY 118

While attempting to study in YRL, I discovered this chain of comments written on the wall to my left. This is what it says, each comment in a different handwriting in response to the one in front of it, spelling unedited: Suck my dick. If you were a black guy I would :). Whore. Jealous. Judgemental. YRL vandal.

After taking this picture, I added a final comment: Library employee!

DAY 117

Culinary success at midnight: I wanted to make blue cheese scallion biscuits, but realizing I had neither blue cheese nor scallions, I substituted feta and green onions. Good decision - the biscuits ended up delicious. Laraine suggested we eat them with honey, which was the best idea I'd heard of all day.

DAY 116

These cranes look like they are in love with each other:

DAY 115

Today, Katie Laich and I ran a 10K mudrun with military-style obstacles. I didn't get a picture of us covered in mud, but I did take a picture (taken with the fisheye) of the sunrise in Westwood at 6am. I can't remember the last time I woke up before the sun rose! It was so worth it - that mudrun made me feel invincible. I somehow also got a ton of mud in my ears:

DAY 114

Festival of Books today, aghhhh! I made a complete fool out of myself by getting so starstruck in front of Dave Eggers, but I did manage to get a picture with him! It took a bit of effort to maneuver the camera (the $3, because I like the suspense of waiting for film to develop) over the table so that he and I were both in the shot. I also got a picture of Mimi standing under the giant espresso machine, and a small patch of scribbles from the massive "What are you reading?" poster.

Also, random story. While waiting in line (for over an hour) for Dave Eggers to sign our books, Jackie and I started talking to the woman behind us. It turns out she was a sculptor and an assistant to an assistant to a celebrity and had lived in San Francisco, but was actually from Canada, though here she was in Los Angeles, running around doing errands for people because she could blend in anywhere, from Koreatown to downtown Los Angeles. Anyway, it turns out she does this thing where she collects sketches from people. She handed me a pink piece of paper and a red sharpie and I started to sketch Jackie's profile. The picture I was drawing reminded me of a sketch a camp counselor had given to me in elementary school. It was a drawing in red ink of the top of a squirt bottle, but made so that it also looked like the head of a rooster. I kept the picture and remembered the name of the counselor, Albert Reyes.

Years later, when I first discovered YouTube, I randomly stumbled upon this video of a guy drawing with water that he spit out from his mouth. I remembered that Albert had said something about how he did spit art.

Then, this past Winter break, I went to the Giant Robot in San Francisco and while strolling through the gallery, I recognized some of his work! I started freaking out.

So, while sketching, I told the woman this story. "Spit art?" she interrupted me. "Yeah, Albert Reyes! I know him, I'm friends with him!" How random is that? It was insane. She told me to write this information on the picture I was sketching so she could tell him about it later. I can't wait till he finds out. It's like I've been following him without him or I even knowing about it. I hope we meet someday and I can tell him all of this. After that, I won't know what else to say, but it'll mean that everything has finally come full circle. I wonder if it all means anything.

DAY 113

Ok, I admit it: I've been a little lazy this week with my photos of the day. I keep forgetting to bring my camera with me, and I haven't been as focused on getting good shots. There are 51 other weeks in a year, though, so I'm not too worried!

Anyway, I just got back from Diana's party, where I took today's photo. Before I even walked in, I took my photo. It was an Asian party and the entryway before the front door was littered withat least 100 pairs of shoes. It was fantastic. I loved it. Then I walked in and the apartment was filled with so many people that you could barely walk anywhere. People were dancing and shouting and spilling drinks. I felt very tall, since most of the girls were shorter than me. It was very hot and sweaty. I saw some old floormates who gave me about 15 hugs in the space of a minute. A girl I didn't know stuck her hand out and introduced herself to me as I walked out the door while her boyfriend attempted to pull her away, giving me an apologetic smile. Then I walked home by myself, accidentally getting caught behind two girls in very short skirts and very high heels talking loudly to each other about some complicated situation apparently involving some boy that one of the girls liked. "Just tell him that some crazy shit went down," the other girl consoled her, "and that you're not ready to talk about it right now." A boy passing in the opposite direction and I smiled at each other about how ridiculous their conversation was.

I don't even know why I'm going into this now, but these are the things that I love. I love going to parties and dancing and being in these little, crazy, hot rooms. I love talking with people and feeling like I'm in a world so different from my everyday life. I love this nightlife I get to experience before I fall asleep, always too early. I love drunk people. I love their hugs and random introductions. I love being around them whether or not I'm drunk because I love the things they say. I love walking back after the party is over and listening to other drunk people I don't know say ridiculous things that I would never get to hear if they were sober. They don't care, I don't care. There is something very beautiful in this.

DAY 112

Today's photo of the day was taken with the fisheye and it's a self-portrait of me in that fabulous red lipstick that Loosine and I bought at the dollar store.