15/365

May or may not have dyed my hair blue. And purple. And a little bit green. Just sayin'.

I only have a year and a half left of acceptably doing crazy things, so might as well take advantage of it.

14/365

First day of spring semester and classes are being canceled because of the snow. Welcome to Minnesota, dontchaknow.

Classes should go well, I know quite a few people in each of them, blah blah blah, school etc.

Four months, then a senior. Unreal. Then I have to, y'know, find a real job or something. Be responsible and all that jazz. Uh oh.

13/365

Playlist for this week:
Breathe-Telepopmusik
Back In Your Head-Tegan and Sara
Carry Out-Timbaland/Justin Timberlake
By Your Side-Coco Rosie
Volcano-Damien Rice


Probably going to do this every Sunday. Why not.

12/365

I have a feeling that this tattoo is going to be showing up a lot in my 365, so might as well tell its story now.

I spent five months studying in Sweden last year (Jan 09-May 09). I traveled in a group that went as far north as Kiruna and south to Karlshamn. It honestly was the trip of a lifetime, and the people I met, the places I had the opportunity to visit--it all still seems unreal at points.
Over my spring break, during which we all had the freedom to travel wherever we wanted, I decided to go to Gotland, and I fell in love. As a history major, Gotland's past interested me to no end, and the time I spent there was filled with roadtrips to bronze-age burials and medieval churches---I was in heaven. One church which I wandered into, in the town of Dalhem, was immaculately preserved, and the paintings on the walls still looked new.




I found this little guy above a doorway near the back of the church, and was drawn to him. I'm not very religious, but for some reason this image stayed with me, and in August, I decided to get him tattooed on my arm.
I don't know, I find him to be a nice little reminder that there's some good out there, that some people still do believe in the good of others, y'know, that sort of deal.

11/365

Everybody says it, but it's so true. Sleeping in your own bed is bliss. After a late night on the town on Thursday, a night in my own bed was exactly what I needed.

I went home, which for me is the land of Lincoln, Jordan, Blagojevitch, and Daley; more popularly known as Illinois. But I think that, at this junction in my life, home is becoming a strange new word of sorts. I call Chicago home, but I more fondly call Minnesota, especially where I live now, home. I know that with age, this notion of home will warp even more, but yes, everybody says this too, but home is where the heart is, and I have mad love for MN.

10/365

My soundtrack for the day (which consisted of a grand total of 2 songs): Feel It In My Bones--Tegan and Sara/Tiesto and Telephone--Lady Gaga/Beyonce. Why? I'm going dancing. I've got a friend who lives up in the cities and is taking me out on the town, and let me tell you, nothing, absolutely nothing, feels better than shaking away the cares of the day while music pulses through you. Absolutely. Nothing.

9/365

Just look at those Converse. Look at them. Those were brand new a month ago, no smudges or imperfections. I guess a few days painting has changed that.

Too tired to post anything of substance. Blah.

8/365

You know you're a geek when: you finish off half of a book assigned for a class which you haven't even started yet.

I'm taking a class spring semester called European Lives: Stalin, which is a special topics class and I'm so stoked for it. I got a few of the books I ordered for classes from Amazon today, and started this one, and can't put it down. It follows the life of Janusz Bardach, a Polish Jew who joined the Red Army, and after a series of unfortunate events, ended up in a labor camp in the Soviet Union. I recommend it to just about anyone-it's an easy read, but quite interesting.

If all the books for this class are like this, I'm going into one great semester.

7/365

Good thing I didn't care about these jeans.
First day of a week of painting! Urinetown is the musical that my college decided to produce this year, and one of my housemates designed the set for it. And since we all had a week off of classes, most everyone who would normally help with the painting of the set went home. What else was I going to do with my day? Besides, everyone knows that their seven-year-old self loves getting dirty and messy. I know my inner seven-year-old is certainly rejoicing.