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Saturday | October 16, 2004 | Beep Beep.

Once upon a time, my eyes were pried open by the fuzzy bewailing of an unreliable alarm clock radio tuned to channel 95.1 and a half. The slightly overturned tuning knob generated a cacophonous tug-of-war between the Top 40 and Dolly Parton; mediated by static. College has radically shifted my AM rituals. Each morning, bleeding, red digital numbers make the clamorous transition from 7:59 to 8:00 and out pours a symphony of beeping fracas. Here are the two fundamentals I have acquired while timidly adapting to the anxiety basket that is Wake Forest. Number One: it is completely unneccessary to begin the day more than 20 minutes prior to your first class. Why waste precious time perambulating about with heavy lids and imprinted cheeks when you could spend twenty extra minutes sunken amidst drool-laden pillows and cockeyed bedsheets? Number Two: The snooze button is a divine gift. Employ it, embrace it, beat the living daylight out of it (Daylight? Precisely. Pun absolutely intended). I have, in fact, learned to set my alarm an hour in advance for the sole purpose of beginning the day in a pathetic, celebratory manner. The benefits reaped from such an act are multitudionous. The inner sighs of relief and belatedness are much deeper and more satisfying than those obtained from any one hour yoga class or quiet meditation. Imagine it. The alarm clock emits its deadly tumult and rather than beginning the day with slurred rants composed of choice words and untidy thoughts, you say, "Ha! You're wrong, alarm clock, you're wrong. Get back to me in an hour and we'll see what we can work out." Thank God for Fall Break. I am temporarily freed from my daily quest for an extensive slumber. :)

Tuesday | July 27, 2004 | T-shirt Extravaganza!

For ages I've been mesmerized/ slightly burdened by the creative forces which hatch prodigious works of art without a breath of hesitation. Where is the stress? The flaw? The screw-up's and do-overs? No longer is this an era of impious clothing lines vehemently cranking out masses of fabric swabs plastered in strategically placed brand names and accompanied by lofty price tags which nonchalantly bellow, "One hundred and eighty dollars." ... Alright, I was wrong. It is that era. But, by golly, if hand-knit scarves and self-constructed purses aren't climbing the designer heirarchy then I don't know what is!

My poorly articulated point is this: Craftiness breeds merriment as I have learned this evening.

My REAL point is this: I was in search of a motive for posting pictures of my very first t-shirt creation. I conjured up a ridiculous preface about brand name clothing and artistry to disguise my pointless "t-shirt unveiling endeavor." So, here you have it. My very first t-shirt which divulges, completely, my idiosyncratic fondness for livermush. I hope this doesn't cost me too many friends. haha.