flawless

The annual High Heel Drag Race.

Early Man!

Top Set of photos: I'm told this is what happens to guys when there's not enough estrogen around. At least there was no pig head on a stick. The person pointing to the huggers kept chanting "early man! early man!" and pointing to Dan, who started the fight.

Bottom: Ben. oh so incredible at skateboarding.

red lipstick, rollerskates, and violence

I love sleep. Its too bad I never do or can. This week I split my insomniac time between skateboarders and rollergirls. The rollergirls are AMAZING. They're my Yankees...and they gave me a shirt to make me feel part of the team. Its too bad I don't have a violent bone in me because the uniforms are so so hot.

yes, there ARE missles on top of the white house

Don't you just adore drunk calls at 11 p.m. on a Monday? I know I do. Tomboy called last night to ask if there were missles on top of the White House. Of course there are, google it.
While avoiding homework again, I met a guard named Antonio at the National Gallery today. He retired from the Army at age 37 and has been volunteering ever since. He's fluent in Korean and bows whenever one passes him. What he had to say about asian tourists, "They always want to touch things."

Books I need for my library:

Dada by Dorothea Dietrich (Corcoran Faculty, no less) - best exhibit at N.G.
The Americans by Robert Frank
Story Lines by Robert Frank

metro rides

photo 1: I'm getting tired of riding the bus. I miss my bike. But it was an antique and needed a doctor. An inebriated man on the metro asked me two nights ago if I was Marsha Brady. I said yes. Beats being called "white cracker" every other day in Baltimore.

photo 2 and 3: Ben parking his sweet ride in front of the White House.
Supposing Ben, Tim Gunn, and I were at a party and I was introducing the two, it would go
something like this: "Tim Gunn meet Tim Gunn".
Ben's shoes are mink, by the way.

signs

Rossi has turned her bed into a fort & it never ceases to make me laugh.  Oh the spacial joys of being an art kid in a big, expensive city.

Signs that show you live with a graphic designer:

1. You used Quark Express to design your last party flyer.
2. You're aware Quark is becoming outdated.
3. Typography makes you waaaay too excited.
4. You had a dream that resembled bemboszoo.com
5. You and your roommate argued over the aesthetic layout of a small wall space.
5-b. You and your roommate lose hours of sleep one night flipping through Coloraid to find which shade of hot pink you like better.

inclement weather details

The Points at FC



The weather in D.C. is...sketchy.
sketchy- adj.; incomplete, fragmentary, patchy, scanty, vague, imperfect, imprecise.

It's been raining the past few days and the cold has settled into D.C. All Rossi and I care to do is hide under our blankets and bake this weekend. I forced myself outside today to attend the "All Roads" photo presentation at National Geographic. I met all the photographers Thursday, but I thought I'd show up early and hang out, since I couldn't Thurday night (class, you know). They were bored b/c of the rain and asked Harry, Cocco, and me to come hang out at their hotel. All very genuine and sweet.

Spent the rest of my evening aimlessly walking through alleyways and hanging out in Northeast. When I came home around 1 o'clock, Rossi was baking bread.

with our powers combined...

first photo is the infamous one of me drunk as a skunk at the Black Cat which was posted on the D.C. fashion blog (pandahead.blogspot.com). We were celebrating multiple birthdays.
Rosie's response: "you look like you're about to fall over and pregnant". I agree.

Rossi and I were put on the cover of our school's information pamplets. Which is funny, because we're roommates. Rossi brought them home last night and I couldn't believe it. We're both so embarrassed (at least yours isn't photo of you wearing a mink coat! -but no worries Jess!). I'm suppose to be looking dissappointed and I posed under the impression that no one would ever see it. The photo is also on the catalogue request forms. Oh boy.

update: 5.2008- Another photo from the same sitting has resurfaced POSTER-SIZE! as advertisement for the Corcoran. I tried to rip it down. twice.

time well spent.

Felt good to be shooting there again. I need to go more often. Sometimes I need a different atmosphere. Air.

figures

1 hour drawing
I hate male models. They're creepy.
and I always give them hips.
W. Christenberry's drawing class has become my favorite. Instead of PMS-ing, it seems I go through monthly cycles of wanting to change my career path from photojournalism to fine art.

salt of our lives

Tonight was suppose to be an attempt to find a new photo story since the one I've been working on isn't. Instead, we ended up aimlessly walking through Dupont looking for a place to get coffee. Marianne and I nervously (ok, I was the only nervous one) walked into a strip club that was suppose to be "shady". It ended up being quite posh and empty. I asked the owner if I could document what happens behind the scenes. He told me to come back tomorrow. Did that really just happen?



"salt of our lives" - Mike.



These guys.



Rossi, Maria, and I once mistakened this place for a convenience store. "I don't think they sell water here."

new bungalow

trash room. People seem to be always moving out and leaving their couches and tables up for grabs here. We've yet to gather the guts to take anything. We're holding out for someone to toss their stuffed cheetah.


across the street. worth the move alone.


Our new space is quiet. High ceilings, hardwood floors, crown molding, and a park next door. Very old and charming. I'm in love.