Amazing short film

Make sure you have flash, then check this out! Honda's New Accord.

Oh...my... I watched it three times in a daze.

It's live, not at all computer animated, and it took well over 600 takes to film.

With Barbian frequency...

Have you ever wanted to take up a lifestyle or occupation without having to adopt all the preparation or consequences that go behind it? Of course you have!

I think today I'd be the ever popular gourmet food critic. I'd saunter over to the nearest high class establishment, order something really expensive and juicy, then chew it with a thoughtful look on my face, every now and then jotting notes on my napkin. Things like "sumptuous," "metaphorical," "venerable" or "astringent." Then I'd probably get in trouble, because the napkin would be cloth and I'll have completely ruined it with my ink. Or if it was a really snobby place, they notice too that my cell phone is rather run-of-the-mill and that I'm wearing sneakers under my skirt, and they'd icily dismiss me before I had a chance to order dessert.

Of course, then I wouldn't have to pay for the whole thing, which would be awesome. Then the next day I'd write up a front page review, with 2" by 4" pictures of the main dish, the incensed look on the waiter's face as he saw my napkin, and the gum stuck under the table, which would make the restaurant an immediate centre of controversy and revenue. They'd change their image at that point, characterizing their own snobbishness to the point of ridiculousness, and in memory of my escapable, ceremoniously kicking each guest out at the end of their meal (and mailing them their bill the next day). Each guest, in turn, would purposely do something slightly gauche during their visit to the restaurant. The game would be for the waiter to identify this action, and use it towards dismissal.

Check it out-- I spelled centre c-e-n-t-r-e! It's almost like I'm British!

People and stuff

My typhoid vaccination is oral, which means that I get to take pills which have live bacteria in them, and have to be refrigerated. Reading about the test groups given them was pretty interesting (okay, I'm a nerd, but...). The first group was a bunch of kids in Alexandria, Egypt, and the cases of typhoid among them went down 95% compared to other kids.
Later, among another group there were all sorts of side effects, like headaches and stomachaches and toeaches and dizziness and nauseua, etc. etc. etc. That had me a bit worried. But then it said something like, "But the effects were the same among the placebo group." So they had nothing to do with the pills. Which I think was kinda funny.

Yesterday, I was on the computer 9 hours doing rendering, and with my group working on structures 3 hours. Today, I'm at my desk 8 hours or so drawing, and then doing 4 or 5 hours of studying structures. I am a Student with a capital "S"!!

So people:

Jaime's going to Sengal next fall. She'll be living with a family in Daakar which will probably be made up of a man and several of his wives, learning the Woolaf language by speaking French with them, experiencing Art and Culture, then making up her own independent studies project! Jaime is so cool! Oh, and Jaime got me tulips! How sweet is that! :)

Beth got into the nursing program for next year! As Megan said, "We feel like all got into the nursing program" -- it's like we're all living the dream:) She totally deserves it after all the studying she does-- well, it is by the grace of God I know, as all good things are.

Megan thinks Katie is hilarious. Which is extremely odd. Megan's like the guy in Monty Python who comes in and says "Silly, silly, silly! This sketch has become much too silly. It will stop now." I don't know how much goofiness has been shut down by her eyes. Katie my sister, on the other hand, fits in with Cheryl and I. In that we'd be perfectly happy to watch The Emperor's New Groove all day. She's quite the individual, a quirky nerdy rocker chick. But whenever she opens her mouth Megan giggles. It's completely the opposite reaction I'd expect. However, I'm happy for them both. I love it when Megan laughs, and Katie does well with fans:)

Well, more on people later. I realize this is not on topic per se, being that this blog is about me, but the gals I live with are so much are part of my life and probably make more interesting reading anyway.

I've been more apathetic and tired. Please pray for me. Whenever I remember God's goodness and glory I feel much better, but then, you know, I've got to think about things like school.

Saturday was the parent's banquet for UCU. So we invited everyone parents (and a lot came), then introduced all the officers, did a slideshow and a fashion show, and fed everyone yummy things. Marissa and I were late. I didn't think I'd be much in the spotlight, but to my surprise I had to stand up as outgoing VP and introduce Andrea, and there were a LOT more pictures of me in the slideshow than I expected. My parents were a bit shocked by the pictures of me as Pink, I think. But Pete patted me on the shoulder and said "Alright!" Hannah and I started giving each other high fives whenever bad pictures of us came up. And Cheryl sat between Katie and I and said things like "What's that? Huh?" (given that there were pictures of everything from Braveheart Night to Women's Social to Casino Night).

It was strange to remember all the awesome things I've been a part of in the past year or two as a part of UCU. Just last night I went to University Presbyterian to participate in the world's largest pillow fight (to be recorded in the Guiness Book of World records) I can only hope that living in an apartment will be just as amazing (probably in an entirely different way though... ). Well, when we were living in the dorms Rae and I did have a good time. Some memories:

*The time that we ate ice cream straight from the carton on the floor, drizzling chocolate into it occasionally, and then cleaning up the spills with one of Rae's socks...

*The time that Rae and I dressed up elaborately for Halloween, and took creepy pictures

*The times that we took Kung-Fu, Aerobics, and Interpretive Dance together (yes, I've been taught interpretive dance...)

*The times that we staged fights, screaming at each other things like, "I never want to talk to you again!" and then slamming the door and running away, thus confusing all of our hallmates greatly. Once, Rae did this. And she never came back, because she had just moved to UCU.

*The time we spent a month planning a party, only to have it gate-crashed by a bunch of boys, upsetting our carefully planned girl:guy ratio (about 3:14, including us)

*The time I was dancing in our room, and accidently punched a hole in the lantern Raeleen had spent days making for art class (trouble...)

Yeah, and I guess I can always get my party fix by doing stuff with the college group, or visiting Ben at SPU, or *ahem* paying UCU a little visit around Halloween...

:) God Bless. I've work to do...

Happy Architectural Writings...

This posting is solely for those who wonder what goes on the minds of architecture students when they're deciding where to put stairs and such. It might help one understand modern architecture a bit better too. In short, it's the rough draft for my Final Project Statement. What do you think?


This site is almost a void, but not completely enclosed by walls. In fact, there are a couple of openings in the form of narrow slots between walls that intrigued me and drove my initial conceptual model. I endeavored to connect these compressed gaps with the street through the site—uniting the street with the pattern of buildings.

The result was a path that comes off the street, then down into the bottom of the available vertical space, curving around the back, jetting upward, and carving a space in the sky as it comes back towards the street and down alongside the entrance. It is a sort of complex oval with specific points of entrance and exit indicated by its turning points in space, as well as encapsuling an inner courtyard.

The drycleaners sits in the hollow of the space by the street. Where the rest of the building is encased in metal, the drycleaners is transparent, but supportive to the metal. Functional difference is made clear by this material difference. Too, this allows the lighting within galleries and studios to be more controlled, and the dry cleaners to be unique in that all its mechanisms are revealed, which is sort of an art in itself.

Most of the studio space sits high above the street, connected with urban life yet sequestered. The gallery space, on the other hand, is scattered through a variety of easily accessible spaces of different dimension and lighting condition. Through the main vertical space in the back are a series of platforms leading up through the space and connected by figural stairs. This is important to the experiential path through the entire building, which closely follows the building’s outside form. The gallery/studio is a path both from a bird’s eye view and in interior usage.

This building experiments with the possibility of informing a whole space through the information surrounding it, specifically the gaps. Therefore shape is a happy emulation of the connections between gap’s flow.

Pleasantly alive

The girl at the coffeestand remembered me! "You're in before four today!" she said, recalling the last time I came in while the coffeestand was still open, but the espresso machine was closed. "Yep, I was checking my watch!"
Then Prentiss, my prof from last quarter came along and joined the conversation, sympathizing about how my studio ran until 7pm a week ago (1.5 hours late-- with poor Ben sitting in the parking lot starving-- we had dinner plans) and I realized that despite the emotional duress my instructors put me through, I generally like them. Generally.

Like, today instructor Brian McLaren (or B-Mac) basically told me that I don't know how to draw floor plans. But I still like him. Maybe it's because he shows such an intense interest/adeptness/passion for something that consumes so much of my time. Maybe it's because his personality shines through his critiques, and I learn to appreciate the Real Brian. Maybe (probably) I develop a liking for anyone who takes the time to talk with me, even it it's their job. But I digress.

I've been spending time with people lately, realizing that each quality conversation with someone at UCU may be the last with that person, and that I'm leaving in less than a month and won't see anyone familiar all summer anyway. Until the people I see become familiar, of course.

Had a strange experience yesterday, but I'm under oath not to discuss. I will tell you, however, that boys smeared shaving cream on the floor outside my bedroom last night, and hung a tiki man on the wall, in order to bring revenge upon my roommates. Who are quite the pranksters themselves. Not a horrible prank, indeed. The shaving cream still smells nice. And I hope we can keep the tiki man.

Banks/private affairs

I don't have a checking account, so I have to go take out a fat load of cash whenever I need to pay someone back. I prefer intangible forms of money in general, but that's only because having to dish out dollar bills brings home the reality that I'm probably spending more than I should. It's fun to use paper money if it's a present from someone. Someday, I want a bunch of money to throw into the air. Maybe someone has a game of monopoly that they don't want.

Anyway, I really should get a checking account. I always feel like I'm going to get mugged or something, like somehow the way I move skittishly after I leave the bank is a signal that I'm carrying an uncomfortable amount. Today the teller ran into the back and did an ID check on me after I presented her with my checks and withdrawal slip, and I wondered if I looked suspicious. I was on the side of the bank with little booths; the other side has scattered armchairs and shiny desks that I imagine the more financially endowed clients are whisked off to when they materialize.

Then I got to thinking that the booths are a bit like confessionals. The business of those in front of me in line was a secret to me-- each person had their individual concerns which they confided to a one who could give disinterested help and relief. I know the parallel is no where near exact, but I thought it was interesting.

Another noteworthy event...

Walking along the street yesterday, I came upon a man walking the other direction. As I passed him he looked into my eyes and said, "Earth tones." Then kept walking.

Not a Real Blog

In other news, Joel has a blog now. If it doesn't make sense to you, it's probably because you don't know Joel.

Color!

I got tired of drawing with pencil, and did my pin-up for today with oil pastels! Woo-hoo! There ain't nothing like drawing from 11pm-4am, with a big pitcher of iced tea at my side.

Chick who lived at UCU last year, named Leila, is getting married in four months. Her fiance rode up on a white horse, wearing plastic armor, then climbed up a ladder through her window. Next year, she'll be teaching at the community college which her husband is attending as a student;0)

Unfortunately, I'll miss the wedding by a week, being gone this summer.

Raeleen and I are going apartment hunting tomorrow! I'm quite excited. The hunt should be entertaining, but I'm also excited about the way our friendship's being renewed lately.

Well, I'm technically in class right now, so I should get back to work.

Camoflaged men with pink umbrellas

Okay, picture this. This morning I was strolling down 15th Ave., a major drag along the edge of UW campus. Got it? Alright, so I'm going south towards class, and suddenly I look across the street to an apartment block. And in the courtyard of the apartment block stood a man. Are you still with me? Good, good.
This man was wearing magenta. Ich. And not only that, he was holding a tennis racquet. I hate tennis. Double ich. But here's the reason I'm writing about this in the first place: he was standing, as they say, with legs akimbo (that is, spread apart), and gripping the tennis racquet tightly with both hands. And he was slowly swinging it back and forth, as if it was a police radar or perhaps a sprinkler head. Intensely, he stared at the tip of his racquet, every now and then checking his stance.
People gave him a wide berth.
Sometimes, I want to do something strange like that. Actually, sometimes I do. Nevermind. Just today I was lying on my back in a car seat, with my feet where my head should be. I guess I'm just one of those weirdos too.

Modern Art: An brief analysis of "Time"

Check out this piece, then come back.

The scary thing is that this random picture that I ran across while searching for some modern art to use in my project makes sense to me. And all I needed was the title of the piece: "Time".

The flat piece on the bottom combined with the amber-colored wedge-shaped piece is a reference to the sundial, which tracks time as the sun lengthens and stretches its shadow. The other pieces as well are monolithic, like the tall standing stones ancient peoples used to track the seasons and days. The thin piece across the sundial wedge may be representing the hand of a clock. Then too, the stick curves above the other elements, starting at the horizon and jetting its way across just as the sun makes its way above everything else, and because time is not done, has not completed its journey as yet. In addition, the stick is made of the only ephemeral material used, just as the sun never stays in the same spot to our eyes. Some of the other elements are made up of materials built over time, like the red stone with layer after layer built through time. The things that come up from the earth, like the green slab in the center, seem so solid and independent but really hang upon time and the motion of our days.

I could go on, but... man. What have I become? I can no longer scoff at modern art!

By popular demand

Hey! I was going to put up pictures, but then instead I decided to update my gallery and send you there instead. Like, later this week. Mostly because... I couldn't figure out how to easily put I picture up here. But I know how to publish them on my other page, because I'm the complete Master and Queen of that one, whereas this one, I follow the calm dictates of people's expectations and make absolutely no attempt to oust Ben, the highest of my demands looking something like "Can you tell me how to log on again?"

For now, a little update: I finished my project! And got compliments, and tried to direct attention away from my sectional drawing, which worked up until my prof Brad said "And would you like to discuss your section now?" To which I replied, "Preferrably not," and the judges (a grad student, an professional, and an old friend of Brad's) laughed indulgently.

I spent an evening with my parents, mostly listening to my dad, who just underwent a very successful and high-tech knee surgery. It was great to just get some quality time to talk. Friday night Kate, Ben, and I watched the first "Lady Killers," which was a decent flick. And randomly ran into Malia, who is seriously the only person who was a friends with both Ben and I before we started dating. Everyone else is either a friend of Ben who I've gotten to know, or a friend of mine who's become fond of Ben too. She berated us for never calling her, which made me realize that I rarely call anyone -- mostly I just see people at church, school, and UCU. Also, we went to a wedding of a high school friend of Ben's, where I met a bunch of bubbly former (or current) actress chicks. Which was interestin':)

Taught myself to use AutoCAD as well. Apparently a major part of my internship will involve drawing up plans with this program... and I hadn't learned it yet. Instead, my computer class is teaching us microstation, a program used mostly by engineers. Go figure.

oooo... I should go to bed soon.

"For with You is the foundation of life;
in Your light we see light."
psalm 36:9

Resin and giggles

In about 12 hours, there's a model, three drawings, and presentation of the process due. And I saved it all for today. Sigh. Big plus though-- instead of constructing the perspective drawings from scratch, we can take photos and trace over them;) I'm so glad Ben's digital cam is on an extended visit here!

So my prof Brad told me I have to use steel in my model. First I froze up. I think a stricken look must have crossed my face, because he smiled and said, "Stretches you a bit, does it?" Bleh.
Then I was annoyed at the price and the weight of the hefty sheets, and that I couldn't buy them at the University Bookstore where I get all of my other supplies.
Next, things looked up, just before I cut it on the table saw. It was kinda cool looking. And no one else is using steel-- mostly wood and concrete. So I dug in happily.
But... the saw I was using was like a shopping cart with a bad wheel. It would veer off to one side of the line I'd drawn, then I'd push it back... and the result was some gnarly, curvy lines. Not to mention that to keep the friction from the saw from causing burning, one needs to apply oil to the metal. The oil then mixes with metal dust to create nasty dark gray slime. My project is going to suck, I thought moodily. And of course I had worn light pink today. Light pink no longer. The saw made squeally noises too.
The plot twisted again! Except for a couple pieces, they weren't as jagged as I thought. And the edges were easily to hide. In fact, my model looks rather sleek and makes me smile.

And the odd super-strength glue I bought smells like butter rum!

The night's only begun...:)

Bye bye, Happy Seal

My friend from Oregon has migrated south for the, um, summer. Mr. Happy Seal was part of a promotional campaign for the aquarium in Seaside, Oregon (are you surprised that everyone loved that baby face?) and now bright prospects, possibly even at Seaworld, call him along his merry way.
But now my blog is less crammed in a little box, and more um-crammed in a computer screen (unless your monitor is really small, in which case it is still crammulated).

Boys just walked into my room with suds. Lots of suds. And dumped them on Holly's head. While Hannah screamed about just vacuuming. Now she's vacuuming up the suds.

And there is a comment option! Now either my worst fears about no readers will be confirmed, or perhaps readers will loom silently and make me think they're not there because I'm not controversial enough to respond to, OR I'll be inundated with 20 comments every day from people who love me and perhaps don't even know me yet and my entire social life will slowly migrate to responding to my online fans...

The boys just came back for the third time. While they were hovering in the doorway I got up, pushed them out of the room, and shut the door in their face. I hope they didn't take it personally. You've gotta stand up for your girls.

In other news, I'm considering a double major. And trying to figure out where to live next year. I think I mentioned that I was going to live with some girls from UCU next year? Well, mother and father, who finance my living situation, reminded me that their priority is for me to be near school. And if I don't live in the U-district I have to move home. Because of the price of housing near UW a couple of the girls can't afford to live in the U-district. So the other five girls are probably moving to Greenlake, and I'm stuck now.

Already turned in my move-out form for UCU. So I can't live here. And I'd prefer not to move home. Of course, I love my parents and Cheryl. But it would be a tricky commute, as I don't have a car and parking is super-expensive anyway, and the bus system from Bellevue to Seattle is very finicky and no-where near my parents house. Besides, when I live with my parents they slowly revert back to parent-mode. Not in the first week, but into the second, and definitely by the third. They start checking on how much I'm doing homework, and who I'm out with and where and when I'll be back, and making all sorts of judgement calls for me. Now, my parents have all sorts of good wisdom and judgement, but this sort of situation is not very conducive to growing up. Ahem.

My goal is now to find a roommate or two, and an apartment to go with them. This is trickier than I thought it would be. Most architecture girls will be in Rome next fall. UCU gals are living at UCU, or with the group moving out. Girls from church tend to live in the Eastside, or at Seattle Pacific University. Hillary and Malia want to stay at AZD, their sorority, and Elizabeth can't afford to move out. So, not too surprisingly, I'm going to ask Raeleen. Even though she's a light sleeper, got wheat and dairy allergies, and is sick half the time, she's probably my best friend. And friends don't shake hands, friends gotta hug.

New Look!

Hey everyone! Lisa's web monkey here! What do you think of the new site? Please post thoughts in coments!

~B.

The More the Merrier...

Many landlords seem to have scruples about renting to a number of people that exceeds the number of bedrooms in a given house. Example:

"Hi! I'm calling about the house up for lease in Greenlake!"
"Oh, great house! What's your situation?"
"Well, I'm a student at UW, and I want to live with six of my friends..."
"I'm sorry, that's a four bedroom house."

End of discussion.

There's also the issue that we're looking to rent in August... and it's only May. A couple of the landlords that I called actually laughed at me. But it seems like common sense to plan ahead. Especially since most of the people I'm living with are going to be gone over the summer. I won't be back til September myself.

So yeah, I'm moving out of UCU. It's a bit of a melancholy event. But I have my reasons. The news has spread around the girls house quickly enough, and isn't as scandalous as it might have been, because 7 of us are moving out together (no one's bearing the brunt and all that), but I haven't told any of the guys yet. Joel mentioned something about me living here next year, and I neglected to correct him immediately because I was tired and didn't want to have the "So, why are you moving out, then?" (in a slightly hurt tone) conversation again.

Some of the landlords were slightly odd. One said, "That's a great, great, great, great, great house!" (then laughed and said it would be gone long before August).
Another had a lengthy and information conversation with me about the locations and perks of the houses he had available to rent. Then five minutes later he called me back.

"Hi, did you call me?" he asked.
"No... I just talked to you a few minutes ago."
"Oh, really? Did I give you the addresses?"
"Yes..."
"That's weird! I just got a message from you!"
"Yeah, sometimes messages are sent later than the missed call thing."
"That's so weird!!"

His houses sound great... but I wonder slightly about the guy's stability.

Reasons I'm moving later.
And I recommend after dinner mints for after dinner... and late late at night!

G'night. (Yes, I did say I was going to bed an hour ago...)

I'm a singing diva too

I don't remember whether or not I wrote about the time I performed as "Pink," but here are some pictures of me and my back-up dancers Alissa and Hannah. Just click on "Pink" in the menu:)

A Singing Diva?

My housing assignment for this summer arrived!

When I get back from Honduras, it looks like I'm living with a single woman named Jeni. With no other information to go on, my mind conquered up a quiet, well-ordered middle aged lady, devoted to church volunteering (behind the scenes) and a little overwhelmed by the idea that a 21- year old girl would be throwing random tidbits into her normal lifestyle for two months this summer.

But being the snoop I am, I immediately entered her name into Yahoo. Guess what I found out!-- She owns a mobile karoke business! Called Jeni-oke (and I know that it's the same Jeni because the contact number on the karoke website was the same that eMi gave me to call MY Jeni). So maybe she's a lot more colorful than I first thought. And hopefully a lot more resilient to randomness...

My other apprehension involves my team, which currently consists of (Role Call):

One John Linquist, 60ish ex-military landscape architect. My team leader.
Upon talking to him on the phone, I noticed that he was extraordinarily personable, good at communicating, and gracious. He also had the architectural characteristic of coming across as a chatterbox full of good information.
And, thank God, he's bring his wife with him. Why this is important will be soon revealed.

One Ivan something-or-other. The other intern. From a smallish Christian university in the midwest (looks SPUish)
He sent back a rather nondescript email to my introductory one a while back. I can't really tell much about him. But he's a mechanical engineering student.

One Architect. Of unknown name and origin, but certainly male. Who I will probably have the closest contact with on this trip.

At least Two, perhaps Three Engineers. Won't have as much of a working relationship with these folks, but they are still part of my team. Also all male.

So I really appreciate that Mrs. Linquist is coming. Honestly, I just rarely talk with men older than 25. Other than my father, uncles, professors and grandpas, (and Bob Sorensen the architect. And Ben's dad! He's cool too.) there aren't men I have contact with. But I know that as I'll soon be launched into the "real world" it's important that I learn how to talk with this rather large portion of the population. So this summer will be themed "How a somewhat mature girl can develop healthy friendships with her brothers in Christ aged over a quarter of a century."

the Cheryl Shrine

Story from awhile back:
When I first moved into 4-per this quarter, Kate stuck up a black and white picture of Cheryl on the wall, right by some dried flowers Marissa had left from last quarter (a present from the ex she was trying to forget). I had stacked a couple of syrofoam boxes up to make a table underneath, with my candles on top. The result looked like some kind of memorial!

On April Fool's Day, we told Holly Hick's boyfriend that Cheryl had died. He gave me a hug and tried to console me with encouraging words, then got rejected by Kate when he tried to give her a hug (Kate hates physical contact). Holly took pity on him later... and fortunately he thought it was quite the gas;) And of course Cheryl is flattered to have her own shrine like memorial!

Last night was girl's night. Summary: I now know what's going on between any given girl in the house and guy here or elsewhere. The guts have been spilled, and now gossip is not even possible, as the truth is known:) I like that.