You're the Boss, Applesauce.

Today i was reminded of something i already knew... of the fact that my sister, Astrid, is an alpha-female. Once long ago, Simon oppa told me that. "Pinky is an alpha-female." And then he decidedly affirmed, "You, Liz, are not an alpha-female."

i am a betafish. I am a lamb in wolf's clothing, and over its clothing the wolf is wearing a fur coat. so it's kinda like a turducken.

It's the first time in years that i am attending school. And it's not for something i've always been imprisoned in school for (English). I'm reimmersing myself into the world of academia so corrupted by retarded T.A's and sorostitutes, specifically to explore something that i'm really interested in. Performance arts. Film. I am taking theater, acting, and journalism classes. And honestly, it's scary and *shrug*whatevers*shrug* at the same time. And it's also the first time in years that i'm going to school with my sister. UGA seems like a distant, drunken, memory. I find myself in the middle of downtown Atlanta in a peacoat, shivering my bum off, bbming Astrid strategic rendezvous points between our classes. It's actually a lot of fun!

After my first class, we decided to meet in the courtyard. I spotted her a mile away. She always makes this tornado flurry entrance... even when we aren't entering anywhere. She was wearing a leopard spotted coat, leather pants, and thigh high lace up boots and toting an oversized gucci bag as her bookbag. She smiled with an unlit cigarette dangling from her mouth and waved with a hand clad in an expensive Italian calfskin glove. Astrid has sophisticated taste. I don't get it... how can you keep from scuffing those kind of gloves? I was wearing the gloves my mom bought me from Godknows what flea market; they have fingerpuppets on each finger. That's 10 fingerpuppets-- they're all very different, too. I'm not really sophisticated. You know how style just comes naturally for some people? I've realized it doesn't for me. I end up pulling on whatever feels comfortable at the moment and whatever i think looks pretty. I wear vintage boots from my mom that are all tattered. But! They're perrrrfect.

She grabbed my hand and led the way, literally pushing through the crowd as if she was my bodyguard or something. "Hey, are you guys twins?" "NO!" and she doesn't even crack a smile or acknowledge the inquisitor. If it's me, it's a dumb grin and an almost apologetic "aha, no."

She ordered coffee. Direct. No small talk. They almost mess it up, but they can't under her eagle eye. "No. I said skim milk. Thanks. A little more milk. Right there. Perfect." Seems slightly bossy, but she gets what she wants. I can't even count the times she's cut in front of a long line to take the cup back and announce, "This does NOT taste right. I need a remake." I mean, she practically snaps her fingers. I, on the other hand, will quietly wait til the barista's finished, sip, sulk a little bit about it inside, and just drink it anyway. Like a defeated mouse. If i can muster the courage on a particular day, i'll ask, "Do you think i could have another pump of vanilla, please? Thank you so much."

It's not that she's a bitch. And it's not about an inappropriate sense of entitlement, either. She has a mission and it's to get from point A to point B without distraction and in record time. Sometimes it's annoying because she has the patience of a child. And i feel like she might come across to people as abrasive, rude, and overpowering. But she's so much like our mom - i can't even explain it. Spirited is the word. Not bitchy but.... zippy. Funny enough, sometimes i come across other girls with the same zip and i gravitate toward them - and you know what? Most of the time, they're misunderstood but they could care less that they are! It takes a rare kind of man, one cool hand luke, an alpha amongst alphamales, to get and appreciate her and be able to stand up to her and stand her.

Sometimes, such meaningless little moments shoot reminder-lings (mini reminders) at you like acupuncture needles. And suddenly you feel better inside.

I don't mind not being an alpha female. I like following the leader and feeling taken care of and looking up to people. I think we older siblings are like that for the most part. Well anyways, today was one of those days when i felt grateful for her... and proud of her for no reason, no particular reason at all.

today's rendezvous point.

my fingerpuppets

OHHohhh~ PS! Here are my nails today.


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My First Day of Escuela...

Today has been glorious. I've been about to burst waiting all day to get a chance to write it all down and share it with you all!!

Today was my first day of class. Yes, I go to school. I graduated from UGA a zillion years ago, but I decided to go back last year to be reinspired and low and behold, i think i've found my calling! How exciting. I can already imagine myself in the near future, finally falling into the category of people I adore most: the movers&shakers.

I woke up at 530am. It is an ungodly hour for most, but even the 2 glasses of whiskey the night before couldn't calm my nerves. I'm extremely lame like that. My first class is taught by Dr. Butler. It is the perfect 8AM class. She's this genius old gramma lady that probably sleeps with 22 year olds. blond of course. Her lesson was summed up in one phrase: DO NOT BE BORING. Works for me. My second class is taught by Dr. Mitchell. He's in his 40's. Married and has a belly. His entire lecture consists of making references to tv shows like the office and how i met your mother. I guess when you get married, all you do is watch tv?? BOO!! The most important thing I got out of his lecture is that The Varsity's FO (Frozen Orange) has 400 calories in it... more than a chili dog. I know... mindblowing stuffs!!

This leads me to my most favorite class this semester: Tax. I walked down the hall, plopped down and situated myself in the front row. Professor Fenn had a red pepper next to his name on ratemyprofessor.com, so naturally I was more inclined to snag box seats for his lecture! In walked this little, black man. I was so sad. I sat there listening to him ramble about himself and thought, "Damn, this class is totally going to blow. I can BARELY understand what this dude is saying". He handed out the syllabus and it read... INTERNATIONAL REAL ESTATE. I was mortified. It took me 15 mins to realize that I was in the wrong class. I got up. Announced my mistake so as not to seem like a rude lil bastard. Got snickered at. And ran out. I eventually found the correct room. Met the REAL Professor Fenn and immediately got excited about the course. He's not supermodel beautiful.... but he is handsome and he's got charisma. AND he wears 3-piece suits. I sat there hypnotized. I was gazing into his eyes. Married. 2 kids. Damn. But if i were ever to pull an Eva Amurri in Californication, I'd totally pick Professor Fenn. He'd be my Hank Moody.

I just got out of my final class for today. His name's Carmel. Like CARMEL-o Anthony. Gosh, I love saying that name... carmelllllooooooooo. Anyway, he's a short, bald, fat, four-eyed nerd that loves discussing viagra and real world viagra situation shit. Kinda creepy, no?? Every time he said "viagra" my eyes naturally check out his package. U would too!! Don't you judge me. He's notorious for being an easy professor though.

Peas' Rule No. 4 - Work/Study Hard...then Play Harder.

At the end of our lives, we all end up becoming something. It is inevitable. So why not control who you want to become? Whether it's braver, skinnier, wealthier, kinder, we control the outcome. I think people tend to forget that we're all canvases. You may already have painted a perfect picture... but it's all about progression and growth and moving forward. Monet frequently reused his canvases. He erased all or some of what was previously painted. So whether you've erased everything and want to start over or you're just erasing a relationship or a career path, keep painting. Deesees wot i yam tryEENG to do. *French accent* Keep adding to your body of artwork. Cheers. *British accent*

xx, Astrid