This entry was written on paper, in school, and then typed up.


Today, there was another exciting episode of the hit game show "Who wants Jonn Wood's money!" With your host, the Art Department of the College of the Bahamas! Today's contestant; Jonn Wood, who enjoys living, breathing, and fervently regretting his decision to become an art major! The rules are simple: omit the price of the materials he'd need for this lesson, and let him come to class with too little money!Come on down!

Listening to: Rufus Wainwright - Hallelujah


Based on the estimate my teacher gave the of how much money we'd need today, I bought X amount of money to class, only the find that I really needed Y amount. Coupled with Z amount-for a handout I need to buy for Arguementative Writing-and I am now officially up S, creek, without P, paddle. On the other hand, the Bible says fasting is good for the soul.

Watching: my blood drip slowly from my fingertips; crimson falling1, end over end, down to ear-seriously, Yahoo! LAUNCH music videos.


The galling part2 of it all is twofold: firstly: I've bought this upon myself. I probably wouldn't be in such dire straits3 if I had gotten a job, bought the handout when we were told of it's existance, and learned to drive last spring so I wouldn't have to spend two bucks a day on the bus. Secondly, I am a graphic Design/illustration major, and to date none-a word which here means "Jack diddly"- of my classes have prepared me one bit. Not even 2D design, which seemed to involve all but working in two dimensions, and more buying expensive art supplies which would only be used once.

Like Ian said: Ideas you can get anywhere. Skills to express those ideas are what I need.

Actually, what I need is a Wacom Graphire3 4x5 or larger. Or a Mac Mini. Or the Amazon gift certificate for the worth therof. Pretty please.

Because you know you've always want to blow hundreds on a complete stranger.

LATER-Hmm. The lady at the next easel wants to pay me half the price of the pack to share it for the duration of the lesson. Um...sure.

LATER {2:10 PM}-My second class today, from one to four, effectively finished at two. I stared at the table for ten minutes until she told me to go to the library and do research online.

Yes, ME.

Assgning me to do a task online is roughly equivalent to giving a junkie a pipe, a book of matches, a pound of Jamacian uncut, and and a Bob Marley CD.4

So now I have two hours of web time.

Which my parents are paying for.

Mwahaha.

It's possibly just my medication wearing off5, but it seems that I'm more attractive to girls now. I was leaving the copy center earlier, and a girl said "come here". I paused with one foot in the air, looking for all the world like a black Fabio.

She had a strange smile.

"No," I said, and went to Wendy's.

LATER-I really, really want to see Cursed. Which is odd, because I'm far more excited by some dude's rippling ads I saw in the trailer than a straight guy should be. Of course, I got excited at the bed scene in the trailer for Americal Werewolf in Paris. You know, the one where Julie Deply pushed Tom Everett scott onto the bed, straddles him, then pulls up her shirt to reveal she's a werewolf. Of course, I was all of ten years old at the time. Which, in retrospect, is really creepy, but I also recall collecting pictures of women in thongs6 at seven or so.

1. Which sounds like a DeviantART photography title. If you have to ask, you won't get it.
2. Which sounds like a new Good Charlotte single.
3. Which sounds like a hot new emo band, world premeiring their hot new single 'Parlez-vous le anglais en que?' right now, on TRL.
...
I'll stop now.
4. Not that I have anything against Bob Marley or Rastas. My best friend is Chinese.
5. Don't I wish.
6. If you must know, they were on our churches front lawn, and I wouldn't learn what masturbation really was for another seven/eight years or so.


//and fools aren't going to follow·you don't send the sleaze about

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