My Sewing Prowess

So, you probably didn't know this about me... but I'm a pretty fantastic sewer.... sewest.... sew person.

Seamstress. Thank you, Google.

Anyway, last summer my friend and I decided that we wanted to make our own beanbag chair. Not just any beanbag chair, of course, but a Snorlax beanbag chair. We saw one on the internet, realized it'd cost about $200 dollars to buy one from a sketchy website, and then made the decision to construct one ourselves. We didn't know how to use a sewing machine, hand stitch, or cut patterns.

$100 and two days later, we had this:

I could not be prouder of our creation. Snorlax the beanbag chair is my third son.

Here's a little of what went into the birthing of Snorlax the beanbag chair.

The fertilization of the egg. The fabric of life. (Badum tsss)

Breakfast of champions. No wait, that was midnight.

His personality takes shape.

This finishing touch took an absurd amount of time to hand stitch.

Anyway, this whole tale of my past adventure has a purpose. It relates to yesterday.

You see, after we finished Snorlax the beanbag chair, we had a lot of fabric leftover. The fabric has just been sitting in my basement for a while, collecting cat hair. But yesterday my same friend came over, and we decided to do something with that fabric. We decided to make a dress. 

Naturally we didn't know the first thing about making dresses, but we watched a youtube tutorial about fifteen hundred times and eventually made something that looks really cute. All that's left to do is sew on a snorlax face and a bow tie. 

I will post pictures upon its completion. This is what it currently looks like:

That's right, my hair isn't permanently up. Only in most occasions.

I guess the main point of this post was to share with you something that I am extremely proud of, and to share the lesson that even if you've never done something before, and it looks impossible... try it anyway. You may mess up and waste some fabric, but if you end up with something like Snorlax the beanbag chair... then it'll be worth the risk. 

Horah for completing womanly tasks!

On a completely unrelated side note, as I was typing this post, my cat (The Mischievous One) decided to step all over my keyboard. This is what she came up with:

KJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ nmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I believe that if we look hard enough, we could find meaning in this message.

SO HAPPY.

Guys. I feel like this right now:

And a little bit like this:

And you know why?

...

BECAUSE I FINISHED THIS:

AND NOW IT LOOKS LIKE THIS:

If I added up all of my major essays, I'd say there were a little over twenty. AND NOW THEY ARE NO MORE.

Needless to say, I am relieved. Now I can focus on watching more movies and doing more arts and crafts.

I actually learned a lot about myself through applying to colleges. Well... actually that's not true. I learned a lot about what I wish I were like. You really have to show these colleges your good side... and writing about my "good" side really made me wish all my sides were like my good side.

How I Made Myself Seem To Colleges:

Reality:

Pretty much to all the colleges I applied to, this is what I look like on a day to day basis:

It's a solid look for me, don't you think? 

Mustaches

Mustaches are strange, mysterious creatures. I find myself repulsed when I see them on some men, but amazed by their wondrous shape and majestic qualities. Can you be disgusted by and in love with something all at the same time? I think so.

This is what I would look like with a mustache:

It's magnificent, isn't it? I mean... damn. That mustache is foxy.

I bring this up because of my other baby. While DeAngelo may have a terminal illness (DeAngelo is my fake biology son), my other baby is my car. His name is Dexter.

You see, Dexter recently grew a mustache. It is a mustache of endless magic and beauty, and I could not be prouder of my gas-guzzling son. Here are some pictures of him:

Dexter doesn't like the snow all too much.

Growing Dexter's mustache was probably the best decision he ever made. Not only does he win the attention of all the lady cars, but he makes people happy. You just can't frown when you look at facial hair that perfectly constructed.

Such a stud. 

Art Interpretation- Starry Night

For tonight's post, I have decided to do an art interpretation of a fairly common painting. I have no idea what direction this is going to go in... but that's just a part of what makes this whole experience interesting.

Tonight's subject of interpretation is Van Gogh's Starry Night.

*In no way do I claim rights to this painting or dare to suggest a part in its creation

I think that the best way to go about this whole interpretive business would be to fabricate a story in which I, a citizen of this little painted town, go through an adventure that involves a rather startlingly starry night.

And here begins the tale of Goldfish Under a Starry Night.


There once was a young girl named Goldfish, although most of the hip and fresh people in the street called her G-fish because they were just cool like that. Now, I think I need to point out that G-fish wasn't just an ordinary young girl. No. She was beautiful. With hair that shone in the sun and eyes that sparkled like the stars, she melted hearts wherever she went.

G-fish was so beautiful that every lad in town wanted to hold her hand. They came at her in swarms, and she just didn't know what to do. Distressed by her situation, G-fish fled town in the middle of the night with only a pillowcase filled with her favorite plushies and X-MEN ACTION FIGURES (not dolls).

As G-fish was running, she couldn't help but look up at the sky in wonder.
"Wow!" She commented to herself, as talking to herself was simply one of her many odd habits. "Would you look at the stars, Wolverine? Don't they just look absolutely... starry tonight?" Wolverine was quiet in the pillowcase because he couldn't see the stars through the fabric. Also he was an action figure, and action figures generally don't talk.

G-fish's fatal mistake was her fixation on the stars. Although they were mysteriously swirlier than usual and quite a sight to behold, she really should have been paying more attention to where she was stepping. Suddenly, and without warning, a giant beanstalk appeared in the middle of the road! Since she wasn't looking where she was going, G-fish ran right into the beanstalk, breaking her perfectly constructed, goddess-like nose.

A little disoriented and confused by the appearance of the giant beanstalk structure, G-fish decided to take a moment and let the tears and blood stop flowing from her face. When she had calmed down a bit, G-fish became curious about the beanstalk. Naturally, she decided to climb it.

Abandoning her bag of plushies and action figures, G-fish began to climb.

Finally, after much physical exertion, G-fish reached the top of the beanstalk. As it turned out, the beanstalk took her right to one of the really swirly stars. She could practically reach out at touch it!

Amazed, G-fish put out her hand to see what stars felt like, but when she touched the star, she realized that it wasn't actually a star at all! The swirly yellow blob was just an obese lightning bug!

In any case, G-fish instantly became attached to this lightning bug and named him Xavier, after the professor in X-Men. They bore a striking resemblance in that they both lacked a head of hair. G-fish wanted to play with Xavier a bit longer, but Xavier started to fly away to join his other morbidly obese lightning-bug support group. Upset, G-fish reached out to try and grab Xavier, but she missed and started to fall...

Just then, a large gust of wind lifted up G-fish and saved her from her immanent death at the bottom of the beanstalk!

G-fish was carried by this powerful wind all the way to the moon, because in this story that is possible and it happened. I swear.

On the moon, G-fish never again had to worry about the mob of boys chasing her around. All she had to worry about was the little "no oxygen" situation, but that's another story for another time.

*I did have a bit of an influence on the creation of this work of art.

Free Art- Attempt #2

I really need to start writing these posts earlier in the day...

You see, now that it's the third day of my break, my schedule of doing things has come to a complete standstill. Time no longer exists. I feel like a free-floating particle in a sea of never-ending nap-time.

I need to start getting my priorities straight. That means actually finishing my last college application and taking the time to write better posts. There can be no more waking up at twelve, eating a box of Oreos, and then drifting off to sleep after reading two pages of The Hot Zone. I don't even know where all this sleep is coming from. It's like my body feels the need to hoard as much sleep as it possibly can to make up for the days when I was starved of it, and even after I've caught up it just can't get enough.

So, starting tomorrow I will be better. I will wake up and work on applications. Then when I want a break, I will draw art for my lovely followers.

Simply post a comment with your request, and I will add it to this post as soon as I finish it.

Here is request #1, coming from the person sitting next to me as I type: my cousin (and creeper brother)

Request #2: This one is for you, Arjun <3

This is as cool as they come.

Request #3: For Schooney :D

11:22 PM

OKAY. I promised a post every day of my winter break, and I'm going to DO IT. Right now it is 11:22 PM. I have 38 minutes to think of something humorous to write (minus the two minutes it took me to do the math for that- don't laugh at me).

Today I woke up around ten, submitted my second-to-last college application (yay), and then went to chill at my cousins house. I don't know how, but we ended up being stereotypical Jews during Christmas because we not only ate Chinese food, but we also went to the movies. Within the past few days I went from being Santa Clause to being a super-mega Jew.

Me trying to draw that menorah WITH HASTE:

So yeah. What was I talking about again?

Jewish Santa

Yesterday as I was going around school as Jewish Santa, I realized just how controversial my temporary occupation was becoming.

People just couldn't comprehend why I, a Jew, wanted to dress up like Santa Clause and hand out presents.

I mean, I see their argument. I should be proud of my Jewish heritage. I should be passing out chocolate coins and spinning dreidels. I should be home lighting a menorah or whatever it is Jews do during Hannukah. Some people who knew I was Jewish gave me weird looks, like I was some kind of traitor to my own kind. Like I was some kind of poser pretending to be Christian just so I could celebrate the commercial aspects of Christmas and ignore the religious part of it just like the rest of society.

I don't know. Maybe they were right.

I still don't understand why it has to be like some kind of battle between Hannukah and Christmas. Everyone knows that Hannukah could never really win, no matter how many times you say, "Well in Hannukah we get eight days of presents and in Christmas you only get one, so ha!" There's just that moment when you've got to get real and admit to yourself that you're never actually going to get presents on every day of Hannukah because your parents are reasonable people.

I was getting a little sick of nobody caring about Hannukah, or acting like I was trying too hard when I promoted the festivities of Hannukah in past years. It's like whenever I tried being a Hannukah fanatic, I got the "aw how cute she's trying to make it look like Hannukah is fun" look of pity. I mean, it's not like Hannukah isn't fun. I really do enjoy eating latkas and chocolate coins and jelly donuts, but aside from eating the food at home, there is no real Hannukah spirit to spread. Considering I absolutely love spreading festivities and spirit, this is unacceptable.

So this year I took a different route.

I wore a Christmassy sweater, a Santa hat, and extremely flashy Christmas socks (from my incredible sock collection- I'll touch on that at a later date...). I also carried around a white pillowcase full of presents and a "naughty or nice" scroll with random names written on it like "Ivanna C. Lebrate" (I wanna celebrate...) and "Obobob Bubblahub."

Despite a few looks from acquaintances, I had a good time. My friends who really knew me well knew not to question, or if they did question they completely understood my answer. Like I said, they knew me well.

I'd say the best part of the day was when I gave out my candy canes. Considering I stuffed five boxes of the good kind (Sweet tart candy canes all the way) into my santa bag of wonders and happiness, I got to hand out a lot.

My friend and I also decided to do a "finders keepers" thing during lunch, which was really exciting. The night before I had found a ton of random things around my room (stuff like crazy bones, slinkies, notebooks, a flamingo headband, and boxes of post-it notes) and wrapped them, then put a "finders keepers" label on it. We put these around the school during our lunch for random people to find.

It's kind of frustrating because I want to see their reactions, but it's also rewarding because I know that whoever finds it will be really excited. I hope.

In one of the classes, they had only left the room to do a lab in the staircases for about ten minutes, and we put two gifts in there. Apparently when they came back in and found them people went crazy and thought it was awesome.

This turned out ten times creepier than I anticipated...

Promises, Promises, Promises

Promises. Clearly I can't keep them. Like when I promised to post every Friday... and then I didn't.

BUT NOW I AM MAKING A SUPER DUPER PROMISE. And I AM going to keep it.

You see... this weekend happens to be very busy. Next week is going to be very busy. I probably won't have time to post more than a paragraph, and maybe a picture. But I want to give this blogging my best effort, and I need time for that.

In strolls Christmas Break. Ahem. I mean Winter Break.

We get exactly one week off from school, but I plan to be done applying to college within the first few days of break. Hopefully.

THEREFORE. I make this promise to my lovely readers:

I solemnly swear to post every single day that I am off for break. 


It's going to be a week-long party of art presents, overdramatic story-telling, and Hannukah dreidel gambling.

B-Franklin's Ghost

So back in October, I may have possibly called one of my teachers Benjamin Franklin by accident.

Now, I know what you must be thinking right now. Benjamin Franklin is dead. This is a known fact.

You are probably also thinking that what I'm trying to tell you right now isn't actually a big deal at all and I'm just being an air-headed teenager whose brain cells clearly mark her incapable of telling the difference between an Economics teacher and Benjamin Franklin. BUT NO. You don't understand the whole story.

You see... I called him Benjamin Franklin on our school's Halloween spirit day. A few teachers had decided to dress up, so when I walked into class, for some reason I immediately concluded that he was dressed up as Benjamin Franklin and so referred to him as such. As it so happened... he was not in costume.

AWKWARD.

This face is going to become permanent pretty soon.

Basically he gave me a weird face, channeling his confusion into squinted eyes and a raised eyebrow. Of course, realizing that it was not only extremely possible, but actually extremely probable that I was a dumbass and that was simply his style, I directed my face full of shame to the floor and sat down in my seat without another word throughout the entire class.

The worst part about the situation was that upon further scrutiny, what he was wearing didn't really make him look like Benjamin Franklin at all. Like many other things, my brain had simply distorted my vision and fed my stupidity with meaningless blather. Either that, or for the brief second that I walked into class, Benjamin Franklin's ghost had given me a vision and I was to go make a shrine in his honor and start my quest to find America's hidden National Treasures. Benjamin Franklin had clearly just decided to use my teacher as a host for his spirit to rest in while he delivered my new life's purpose to me.

So yeah. What I had previously presumed to be high white socks were simply distortions of the light, and his old green jacket was just a regular green jacket. Also, the golden buckles on his shoes that I could have sworn existed when I first walked into the room seemed to magically disappear when I looked at his feet again.

Needless to say, that teacher is now my new BF.

...

Yeah. Just ignore the pun. It wasn't funny.