Monday, August 30, 2010

Is anybody out there?

Hello there. You. Yeah, you. In order to feel OK about this new endeavor, Devin and I would really like to think that maybe 3 or 700 people are actually reading this blog. So if you ARE one of those people, and you'd like to hear our endless ramblings about any topic of your choosing, please comment, and we'll try to oblige you. Seriously, though. If you were to comment, say, "I'd like to hear your thoughts on pineapples, please," we'll do it. On our honor as ex-girl scouts.

So yeah... feedback... give it to us. POR FAVOR! MERCI!

Saturday, August 28, 2010

I'm Dreaming of a Black Chicken...

...just like the ones I used to know...

And when I say "used to know," I mean "envisioned in my head before I started this printmaking project." I'm taking a printmaking class at Concordia. Apparently, going from full-time school to absolutely no school is just too much for my little brain to handle. So I'm taking a class. For fun. Although since it's an art class, I think it actually will be fun. Or at least interesting. Perhaps devastating (DEVAstating?) if my prints turn out to be total garbage.

Our first assignment was to do an edition of 5 relief prints. That means they all have to look EXACTLY THE SAME. So I decided to do a chicken up against a picket fence. And mine do look exactly the same... if you're standing about 20 feet away. Up close, they actually look like different animals. Just kidding. It's not that bad. But it's not that good either.

At any rate, I feel good about the fact that I am, out of my own volition, learning for my own personal edification and not for 3 credits on my transcript. Hopefully I'll be able to use this experience to guilt my future children into doing the same for themselves. Except maybe they'll learn something useful, like carpentry or accounting.

So after almost 5 hours of trying to get those blasted chickens to look identical and rubbing the inked-up paper with a wooden spoon so hard I think my fingers might break, I'm done with the first assignment. Who said learning wasn't fun?

Social? Work.

Yesterday my dear friend John came with me to buy my books for classes. I started to get nervous when I looked at the nearly triple digit price tags for several books.  Unfortunately I can't wait to order books because I need to start reading (for quizzes and papers. Believe me, I am a grad student and therefore a strict believer in the idea that reading for class is only a necessity when it's... necessary.)

So, as we got up to the register I was unable to look at the screen as the kindly older woman scanned my books. John could sense my anxiety, and little nugget that he is, held my hand as the woman announced my total, "$408.16".  Oof.  The following is an accurate portrayal of an actual conversation (that sounds much harsher in print form than it did in real life):

Cashier: Ok. $408.16
Me: uuuugh. I'm going to be a SOCIAL WORKER for crying out loud.
Cahsier: OH! good for you!
Me: No! No it's not good at all! I'll never be able to pay these books off!
John: gigglegigglegiggle
Cashier: Well maybe you'll get an inheritance...
Me: Oh. GREAT! Now one of my relatives has to die to pay for these books!
Cashier: No, I meant a stranger...
Me: Well, that's even WORSE! I'd never get over the guilt.
John: gigglegiggle
Cashier: Ok... well... would you like a bag?
Me: No... no... no....
John: What she means is, I am very strong. scoops up the stack and moves us out of the store as quickly as possible

Ladies and gentleman, heed my warning. Even though our purpose is to help others and we are generally like to spread love and light in the world, social workers can get grumpy...mainly because we can't afford to eat all that often. Well, ok. That's not entirely true. But the idea that I will never be able to afford a good many things is kind of starting to freak me out.

Ah, well. At least I have my books, right?

Perhaps I can burn them to keep warm this winter.

Thursday, August 26, 2010


If you're ever considering entering the workforce directly after graduation, and said workforce happens to be a university which you did NOT attend, think twice, my friend. Think twice.

I'm not saying don't do it, just remember that you still look like a college student. Seniors will probably think you're younger than them. Freshman will assume you know where everything is. And professors will think it's ok to chastise the length of your shorts and the fact that you're wearing flip-flops, thus violating the building "dress code." (Too specific of an example? It can happen, trust me.)

Anyhow, it's just odd to be out in the "real world," but still not feel like I'm welcome here. It's hard to get people to take you seriously when you haven't racked up enough life experience points to gain any credibility. And of course there's the whole awkward do-I-call-the-professors-here-by-their-first-names-or-what? On the other side of the boat, it's a little weird to creep around campus trying to find ways to help my starving social life. I don't want to be "that girl" that can't let go of college life (even though I not-so-secretly want to do senior year again.)

Long story short - life is weird, and doesn't always fit quite perfectly. Here's to hoping I'll grow into it.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

school days

I've never really gotten anxious about school, but this semester is proving a little different.  I have only had 4 of my 5 classes and so far I have to:
  1. write 3 8-15 page papers
  2. write a 25 page paper
  3. volunteer 20 hours outside of class
  4. observe 3 group meetings/ therapy sessions
whose idea was this, anyways? :(

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Hello, Cyberworld!

This is us. Let us introduce ourselves.  We're Devin and Abby... and we're best friends.  In fact, recently, some new acquaintances have told me, "you don't have to keep saying 'my best friend Abby' we get that you're best friends."

Up until this point you may have falsely believed we're one collaborative entity, but sadly, we are two separate beings. So, separate, in fact, that we are forced to live states apart.

So ok, back to introducing ourselves.  (You'll find we often get sidetracked, or as we like to call it, wistfully swept into other conversation.)  

Devin: Grad Student/ Future Social Worker or Firetruck

When I was 5 I had to describe what I wanted to be when I grew up on my application to Kindergarten.  I asked my mom to write "Ballerina. Or Firetruck".  She did. And I stand firmly by that.  But since I also like to eat, I've decided that getting my Master's in social work might not be a bad idea... and I am still going to try to sneak dance into my life somewhere.  

Mostly you can sum me up like this: Abby had to correct the way I spelled "sum" (some. good) I like to: dance, cackle when I laugh, snuggle, cook things, eat honey out of the top of that cute little bear's head.

Abby: Freshman in life.

If that doesn't satisfy your wondering mind, I guess I can spare a few more details. Currently working at the Center for Liturgical Art of Concordia University, Nebraska. Official title? "Exhibition and Project Manager." (Yes, I made this up myself a few days ago. But soon it will be on a real, live business card. So no sass.)

In my spare time, I perfect the art of bonsai tree trimming, make my own bread, and practice my handstands. Or I mostly just watch Friends and create the occasional greeting card. You decide.

In summary, this is our newest attempt at creating an empire.  We decided we need more ways to keep in touch on daily basis (Texting, talking on the phone, facebook were not enough). So here we are... an insight into our bestfriendship... you may find it amusing, but we take it all seriously. Especially the sarcasm. We intend to rival all of our secretly favorite blogs, and one day name our own planet.