Periodically, I am going to update all of you on the progress (or lack thereof) of the To-Do List you see on the right hand side of the page. This won't be pretty:
1. Learn to Surf. I've always wanted to learn how to surf. I am going to postpone this one until my friend Courtney moves to Costa Rica so she can teach me on a beach there. New England just isn't condusive to surfing. Plus, I don't own a surfboard. Yet.
2. Grow a plant before killing it. Ah yes. To be honest, I have failed at this so many times, I am a little afraid to try again. My latest attempt included oregano and a mini terra cotta pot. With much ado, I planted at least 300 tiny little seeds hoping one would sprout. After forgetting to water it for several weeks, the soil dried up and nothing happened. I replenished the mini garden with some water, with no luck. Still no sprouts. I am not optimistic.
3. Learn to play electric guitar and/or drums. I honestly haven't even tried to work on this one. First, I need access to the aforementioned instruments and a teacher. Second, my only real reason for wanting to play the guitar is because there is this awesome lemon yellow one that I love and I want it. It seems silly to buy an instrument I don't know how to play. I don't really know anything about guitars either. The reason I'd substitute learning the drums is because I think they would be good to get out some of the rage. Also, if you don't like your neighbors, drums are any easy way to create enemies. Plus, it is so rockstar. Last, I can practice on pots and pans using chopsticks, which makes it quite conveniant considering we have all of these things in our kitchen.
4. Learn to draw (again). Did I mention I skipped my drawing class this week?
5. Go one month without buying a pair of shoes. I am almost there. Just about 2 more weeks and I can indulge myself.
6. Experiment with sugar art. I recently discovered my roommate owns one of those silicone mats. She thinks it is good for rolling out biscuit dough. I think it is good for pouring molten hot sugar liquid onto for molding purposes. All I need is a candy thermometer and an apartment free of disapproving roommates to get this one complete. Piece of cake.
7. Write something and get it published somewhere. Does this blog count? Prob not. I guess I should start writing real things soon.
8. Run a 5k in less than 30 minutes. This one was put on there mainly for pride purposes. I can't have my mom beating my ass at 5ks. However, considering I have been too lazy to run lately, I am nowhere near this goal. I have a road race in September, though. I will let you know how that goes.
In a nutshell, it appears I am only close to accomplishing the one about not buying shoes. Considering how tight my budget has been lately, this was kind of an easy one. However, it is important to celebrate even the most minor accomplishments. Maybe on my month shoe-free anniversary, my roommate will make me an ugly sheet cake as a reward.
Wednesday 27 June 2007
Kit- E
Although I could bore you with the story about being stranded at sea this past Sunday, this post is going to be about our new cat.
Yes, that's right, my apartment (or actually my roommate, Lauren) recently procured a cat. Her name is Mika, but for short we will now be calling her Punky, because her legs are mismatched. (She is that multicolored variety that could be called Tabby or maybe Calico? We are not sure entirely, because we are not entirely cat people.)
Anyway, she needed a home, so since Lauren had been secretly craigslisting cats, she jumped at the opportunity to take this one in.
I think it is important for everyone to note that we are actually not really cat people. I myself have always hesitated to get a cat because I hear that they multiply much in the way of rabbits... first you have one, then you have many. In the case of rabbits you can blame the abundance on that they are in fact, rabbits, it goes without saying they will multiply. However, if you have multiple cats, and you are female, and single, then you will be called "crazy cat lady". Granted, I don't think at age 25 one could really be called a crazy cat lady, but then again, this is how it begins... get one cat at 25, by 50 you have an infininite number of cats. Since Mika is not my cat, I am fortunately not on my way to being a crazy cat lady, but I do have to watch it. In one year, if the cats have multiplied, I will probably need to move out to avoid catching the crazy cat lady disease.
Since I have never owned a cat, it is my personal goal to make this cat act like a dog. It is day 2 on the project, and this is proving to be much more difficult than expected. First of all, a cat is actually nothing like a dog. Dogs greet you at the door. Cats do not. So far when I have come in I have had to physically track down the cat and drag her out from her hiding space or seat on the window sill so she can properly say hello. This is a work in progress, though. Once I can figure out a way to lure her to me without physical force I think I can accomplish this. The problem is my gut instinct says food will do the trick, but this kitty is a little on the chubby side, so treats are out.
Dogs also like to play with humans. I have found so far, that cats are pretty happy entertaining themselves. Just leave out a ball of yarn and they will happily paw and roll that ball around by themselves for hours (well okay, minutes). Operation turn this cat into a dog: I tried engaging Mika with a ball. First, I rolled it around so she was interested in it. Then, I rolled it towards her, hoping she'd fetch. She looked at it and then proceeded to clean herself. Later, after I had lost interest in the damn thing, I catch her secretly playing with the ball. Without me! To quote Stephanie Tanner: How rude. Dogs are constantly try to get affection and interest from their owners, whereas cats are the opposite. The owners try to catch the interest of their cat.
Despite striking out these past two days, I have not given up. I am quite certain I will get this cat to not only love me, play with me, greet me at the door, but also I will have her sitting, staying, rolling over, and playing dead.
Yes, that's right, my apartment (or actually my roommate, Lauren) recently procured a cat. Her name is Mika, but for short we will now be calling her Punky, because her legs are mismatched. (She is that multicolored variety that could be called Tabby or maybe Calico? We are not sure entirely, because we are not entirely cat people.)
Anyway, she needed a home, so since Lauren had been secretly craigslisting cats, she jumped at the opportunity to take this one in.
I think it is important for everyone to note that we are actually not really cat people. I myself have always hesitated to get a cat because I hear that they multiply much in the way of rabbits... first you have one, then you have many. In the case of rabbits you can blame the abundance on that they are in fact, rabbits, it goes without saying they will multiply. However, if you have multiple cats, and you are female, and single, then you will be called "crazy cat lady". Granted, I don't think at age 25 one could really be called a crazy cat lady, but then again, this is how it begins... get one cat at 25, by 50 you have an infininite number of cats. Since Mika is not my cat, I am fortunately not on my way to being a crazy cat lady, but I do have to watch it. In one year, if the cats have multiplied, I will probably need to move out to avoid catching the crazy cat lady disease.
Since I have never owned a cat, it is my personal goal to make this cat act like a dog. It is day 2 on the project, and this is proving to be much more difficult than expected. First of all, a cat is actually nothing like a dog. Dogs greet you at the door. Cats do not. So far when I have come in I have had to physically track down the cat and drag her out from her hiding space or seat on the window sill so she can properly say hello. This is a work in progress, though. Once I can figure out a way to lure her to me without physical force I think I can accomplish this. The problem is my gut instinct says food will do the trick, but this kitty is a little on the chubby side, so treats are out.
Dogs also like to play with humans. I have found so far, that cats are pretty happy entertaining themselves. Just leave out a ball of yarn and they will happily paw and roll that ball around by themselves for hours (well okay, minutes). Operation turn this cat into a dog: I tried engaging Mika with a ball. First, I rolled it around so she was interested in it. Then, I rolled it towards her, hoping she'd fetch. She looked at it and then proceeded to clean herself. Later, after I had lost interest in the damn thing, I catch her secretly playing with the ball. Without me! To quote Stephanie Tanner: How rude. Dogs are constantly try to get affection and interest from their owners, whereas cats are the opposite. The owners try to catch the interest of their cat.
Despite striking out these past two days, I have not given up. I am quite certain I will get this cat to not only love me, play with me, greet me at the door, but also I will have her sitting, staying, rolling over, and playing dead.
Monday 25 June 2007
I hate riding the bus
I really don't like riding the bus. Today, while on the bus sitting next to smelly man #7 (bus people don't have names, they go by numbers) I was thinking of all the reasons I didn't like the bus, and although I'd love to bore you with all 117 items I thought of, the main underlying reason I don't like riding the bus is because it is just not cool. It is the least cool of all modes of transportation and it has zero hope of ever gaining cool status. Every single mode of transportation out there is better than the bus. Even a tricyle is cooler than riding the bus.
Think about it, as far as transportation goes, here are your options.
1. Let's start with cars. Even if you have a shitty car, you can make it cool. I drove a piece of shit car all through high school and college and loved it. For like a month (maybe more, let's be realistic) the muffler was broken and I am pretty sure my neighbors hated me as I woke them up at the crack of dawn to get to work, however, it got me where I needed to go and I felt like a rockstar in it even when it would break down. The whole premise of the show Pimp My Ride is to make shitty cars cooler. Have you ever seen a show called Pimp my bus? Hell no. Even what's his face knows he can't pimp a bus.
2. Trains. They are classic. They bring up memories of moving West and classy dining cars. Even public transit trains are fine. I'd rather be broken down on the T sitting next to a smelly drunk than be in the same situation on a bus.
3. Boats. I don't think I need to explain this one. Boats are just cool. Pirates have boats and they are cool. It is the transitive property I think that makes this work. Also, it is the second favorite monopoly piece of most people. (I think the car takes first place on that one. Unless you are me, I always liked the thimble).
[New addition: when I first published this post, I totally disregarded air travel. That was a huge mistake, and I apologize].
3.5 Airplanes. I didn't even think of air travel as a possibility and mainly that is because it is so obviously cool. If you are taking your private jet to work then you must be cool. You know how they always say money doesn't buy happiness? well, they are right. Money buys coolness. Even if you are not an independently rich jet setter, you can still be cool while flying economy class. Even budget airlines like JetBlue are cool. The only place on the plane that is uncool is that last seat next to the bathroom. If you often find yourself sitting in that seat, you might want to give yourself a once over and check for the following: do you have toilet paper stuck to your shoe? Are your jeans stonewashed? Do you pick your nose in public? If any of the above apply, change your ways my friend, and you will be moving up in the ranks of economy flight travel.
4. Mopeds. Hi. If you haven't met me you might not know I am in love with Vespas. If a Vespa could get me from Boston to CT in less than 6 hours I would be all over it. Also if I lived in a place where winter didn't suck. I'm on the Vespa mailing list and I drool when I see the catalogue every season. If anyone wants to surprise me with a big gift in the near future, I will take a PX 150 in Vintage Green.
5. Motorcycles. Even though I would surely choose a Vespa over a motorcycle any day, let's face it, motorcycles are cool in that scary biker I am going to run you over sort of way.
6. Bicycles. There is this new light weight vintage looking bike that I love, I think it is called the Amsterdam. Anyway, bikes are another classic thing everyone probably had at one point (except maybe Krissy). When you were a kid everyone knew who had the cool bikes. This is probably how cliques got started. My first bike was white with pink flowers and it had a white basket with pink flowers on it and streamers that were (you guessed it) pink. Once when I was riding my bike my wheel came off. I think I was 6. I had to drag it home while running away from the old lady who lived down the street. In retrospect she was probably trying to help me. Hindsight is always 20/20.
7. Your feet. I am a pedestrian. Since I don't have any of the above modes of transportation, I rely on my feet to get me where I am going. This is brilliant for me because I like shoes. I budget my car money for shoes. A normal person would probably save a set amount every month in order to one day buy a car. Not me. I spend my car money on shoes and my insurance money on coats. Needless to say, I have a lot of shoes and coats (hence item number 5 on my to-do list).
8. Finally, we are at the bus. The epitome of uncool. Even when you were a kid you knew that there was only one part of the bus that was cool. That was in the back. You know why that was the coolest place to sit? Not because when you hit a bump you'd fly up and knock your head on the ceiling. No no. It was, in fact, because in case of an emergency you had to jump out the back. No cool kid ever wants to be caught dead in a bus. Literally.
I think I made my point here. New goal, find a job that doesn't require me to take the bus to work. Or, more likely, take the T to work instead.
Think about it, as far as transportation goes, here are your options.
1. Let's start with cars. Even if you have a shitty car, you can make it cool. I drove a piece of shit car all through high school and college and loved it. For like a month (maybe more, let's be realistic) the muffler was broken and I am pretty sure my neighbors hated me as I woke them up at the crack of dawn to get to work, however, it got me where I needed to go and I felt like a rockstar in it even when it would break down. The whole premise of the show Pimp My Ride is to make shitty cars cooler. Have you ever seen a show called Pimp my bus? Hell no. Even what's his face knows he can't pimp a bus.
2. Trains. They are classic. They bring up memories of moving West and classy dining cars. Even public transit trains are fine. I'd rather be broken down on the T sitting next to a smelly drunk than be in the same situation on a bus.
3. Boats. I don't think I need to explain this one. Boats are just cool. Pirates have boats and they are cool. It is the transitive property I think that makes this work. Also, it is the second favorite monopoly piece of most people. (I think the car takes first place on that one. Unless you are me, I always liked the thimble).
[New addition: when I first published this post, I totally disregarded air travel. That was a huge mistake, and I apologize].
3.5 Airplanes. I didn't even think of air travel as a possibility and mainly that is because it is so obviously cool. If you are taking your private jet to work then you must be cool. You know how they always say money doesn't buy happiness? well, they are right. Money buys coolness. Even if you are not an independently rich jet setter, you can still be cool while flying economy class. Even budget airlines like JetBlue are cool. The only place on the plane that is uncool is that last seat next to the bathroom. If you often find yourself sitting in that seat, you might want to give yourself a once over and check for the following: do you have toilet paper stuck to your shoe? Are your jeans stonewashed? Do you pick your nose in public? If any of the above apply, change your ways my friend, and you will be moving up in the ranks of economy flight travel.
4. Mopeds. Hi. If you haven't met me you might not know I am in love with Vespas. If a Vespa could get me from Boston to CT in less than 6 hours I would be all over it. Also if I lived in a place where winter didn't suck. I'm on the Vespa mailing list and I drool when I see the catalogue every season. If anyone wants to surprise me with a big gift in the near future, I will take a PX 150 in Vintage Green.
5. Motorcycles. Even though I would surely choose a Vespa over a motorcycle any day, let's face it, motorcycles are cool in that scary biker I am going to run you over sort of way.
6. Bicycles. There is this new light weight vintage looking bike that I love, I think it is called the Amsterdam. Anyway, bikes are another classic thing everyone probably had at one point (except maybe Krissy). When you were a kid everyone knew who had the cool bikes. This is probably how cliques got started. My first bike was white with pink flowers and it had a white basket with pink flowers on it and streamers that were (you guessed it) pink. Once when I was riding my bike my wheel came off. I think I was 6. I had to drag it home while running away from the old lady who lived down the street. In retrospect she was probably trying to help me. Hindsight is always 20/20.
7. Your feet. I am a pedestrian. Since I don't have any of the above modes of transportation, I rely on my feet to get me where I am going. This is brilliant for me because I like shoes. I budget my car money for shoes. A normal person would probably save a set amount every month in order to one day buy a car. Not me. I spend my car money on shoes and my insurance money on coats. Needless to say, I have a lot of shoes and coats (hence item number 5 on my to-do list).
8. Finally, we are at the bus. The epitome of uncool. Even when you were a kid you knew that there was only one part of the bus that was cool. That was in the back. You know why that was the coolest place to sit? Not because when you hit a bump you'd fly up and knock your head on the ceiling. No no. It was, in fact, because in case of an emergency you had to jump out the back. No cool kid ever wants to be caught dead in a bus. Literally.
I think I made my point here. New goal, find a job that doesn't require me to take the bus to work. Or, more likely, take the T to work instead.
Sunday 24 June 2007
A Weekend in S Dub
This weekend, while at home hanging out with the family, I realized my tendency to tell long stories doesn't fall from from the tree. Here is how my family tells stories:
My mom: Hon, tell the girls what happened with the fishbowl. (Side note: My dad wouldn't tell us anything if my mom didn't tell him to.)
My dad: Well, I was over there by the counter and your mother had put this yankee candle thing that no one would ever know was there right in that corner. But I don't know how anyone could even see that this candle was there, I don't think anyone would ever see it, really, I am not even sure why anyone would put a candle in such a weird place. So anyway, I was reaching up to get something, maybe a wine glass or something in that cabinet. And then I guess I hit the candle, with my arm or something, and it smashed into the fish bowl and then all of a sudden the fishbowl had shattered into pieces all over the counter. And water went everywhere. There was at least a million gallons of water in that fishbowl that was all over our kitchen.
Mom: Tell them about the fish.
Dad: The fish was flopping around like a maniac so I scooped it up and threw it into this jar of water that was on the counter.
Me: There was a jar of water just sitting right there? Why was there a jar of water on the kitchen counter?
Dad: I don't know why it was there.. It was just there.
Me: Wait, so a random jar that was filled with water for no reason was on the kitchen counter, next to the invisible Yankee candle that no one would know even existed if you hadn't knocked it into the fishbowl- And that is how the fishbowl broke, pouring at least a million gallons of water all over the kitchen, while the fish was swimming in it but the fish didn't die?
Dad: Yes, basically, that's what happened.
Need I say more?
In other news, my little sister is home from studying abroad in Australia, which is good because now my mom will be distracted and won't expect me to return her phone calls or emails immediately. I also saw an old friend I hadn't seen in a while, which was nice, and I realized old friends are good for reality checks. Or maybe unreality checks. Only time will tell.
My mom: Hon, tell the girls what happened with the fishbowl. (Side note: My dad wouldn't tell us anything if my mom didn't tell him to.)
My dad: Well, I was over there by the counter and your mother had put this yankee candle thing that no one would ever know was there right in that corner. But I don't know how anyone could even see that this candle was there, I don't think anyone would ever see it, really, I am not even sure why anyone would put a candle in such a weird place. So anyway, I was reaching up to get something, maybe a wine glass or something in that cabinet. And then I guess I hit the candle, with my arm or something, and it smashed into the fish bowl and then all of a sudden the fishbowl had shattered into pieces all over the counter. And water went everywhere. There was at least a million gallons of water in that fishbowl that was all over our kitchen.
Mom: Tell them about the fish.
Dad: The fish was flopping around like a maniac so I scooped it up and threw it into this jar of water that was on the counter.
Me: There was a jar of water just sitting right there? Why was there a jar of water on the kitchen counter?
Dad: I don't know why it was there.. It was just there.
Me: Wait, so a random jar that was filled with water for no reason was on the kitchen counter, next to the invisible Yankee candle that no one would know even existed if you hadn't knocked it into the fishbowl- And that is how the fishbowl broke, pouring at least a million gallons of water all over the kitchen, while the fish was swimming in it but the fish didn't die?
Dad: Yes, basically, that's what happened.
Need I say more?
In other news, my little sister is home from studying abroad in Australia, which is good because now my mom will be distracted and won't expect me to return her phone calls or emails immediately. I also saw an old friend I hadn't seen in a while, which was nice, and I realized old friends are good for reality checks. Or maybe unreality checks. Only time will tell.
Friday 22 June 2007
Color Me Wonderful
As part of the Summer of Jenn initiative, I have decided to take a drawing class. I didn't feel like drawing left handed with my eyes closed like all of those beginner courses require (since I am such an experienced artist and all, I am way beyond blind contour drawings of my hand), but wasn't quite up for all that the Intermediate and Advanced levels entailed (I am not really sure what they entailed, but I would rather be safe than sorry), so I opted for a class entitled "Drawing with Color."
The First Class:
So, on Day 1 I go into the class equipped with my prismacolor pencils and a smile. (Actually, I wasn't really smiling, I just wanted you to know I was really excited to be there). Our teacher comes in and first informs us she is going to be "a little bit crazy" due to the fact she teaches art in an elementary school and it is the last week of classes. She failed to let us know that "a little bit crazy" in elementary school art teacher speak actually means "a lot crazy" in normal person language. Fortunately, this is not a wasted course. In that first class, I learned a lot, including, but not limited to, the following:
1. Always feel the paper before you buy.
2. Always feel the colors before you buy.
3. When drawing with colors, draw with feeling and from the inside out.
4. Oil pastels are the best choice of color.
5. The oil pastels that feel like lipstick are of the best quality, however, they melt when it is summer. They are perfect in the winter, though. (It was at this point in the lesson that my new best friend forever, Edith, started to pretend her oil pastels were lipsticks).
6. Colored pencil is too linear to really demonstrate the body and life of colors.
7. The last week of school makes teachers crazy.
8. Ochre is Edith's favorite color because it matches her shirt.
9. Homework, is not only optional, but also required. But really optional. But you should do the homework, not because it is required, but because it is fun.
10. BU has the worst art school ever. (If you went to BU for Art, my teacher probably doesn't like you.)
The Second Class:
This time, I came better prepared. [I picked up some oil pastels on the way in (at the art store I made a new friend who helped me pick out a good set. I told him that I didn't really like oil pastels that much because they are too chunky but I was being forced to use them for a class. He made me try-and feel- every type they had and we settled on the superior quality cray pas not because they were the best or the worst, but because I said "Cray pas! I had these in elementary school." We both felt that the memory of elementary school art might make me like oil pastels more than some stuffy brand. Plus, they were the closest I could get to the lipstick consistency without spending all of my money).]
Once in class I sat next to Edith again, because as I said before, we are now art class BFFs. She showed me what she worked on over the weekend. I said I liked it. Then she asked me if I was liking the oil pastels. I said, not really, I still like colored pencils best. She replied with, "Why? You like being in control?" Touche, Edith, touche.
The assignment du jour was to blend colors together. We had to use either oil pastels or regular pastels. Since I had gone out and bought the oil pastels I thought I might as well use them. So I went about the task of blending my limited palette of colors with one another. What I created was actually stripes of colorful browns (if you can imagine that). It looked a lot like shit. Then, we had to go around the room and look at everyone's color blends. When the teacher got to mine, she oohed and ahhhed and said how much she loved it. Then she made everyone gather round to ogle my apparently lovely brown stripes and describe the beautiful colors that were on there. One girl said one of the colors looked like New Mexico. The teacher told her that wasn't a color, did anyone see an actual color? Everyone was quiet so I said "Brown?" That wasn't a good answer, either, apparently-- although Edith chuckled with her French Canadian accent. (The correct answers were Taupe, Olive, Ochre, and Burnt Sienna.) The whole scenario reminded me of Freshman year "I want to blow" (another story for another day, perhaps). Incidentally, I am a fantastic blender of colors, and if this course was graded I would probably get an A.
Things I learned:
1. Brown is not brown.
2. If you think it is ugly, you are probably wrong.
3. Picasso was never good with color.
4. Oil pastels suck.
5. New Mexico is not a color, it is a state.
6. Cray Pas is fun to say.
The First Class:
So, on Day 1 I go into the class equipped with my prismacolor pencils and a smile. (Actually, I wasn't really smiling, I just wanted you to know I was really excited to be there). Our teacher comes in and first informs us she is going to be "a little bit crazy" due to the fact she teaches art in an elementary school and it is the last week of classes. She failed to let us know that "a little bit crazy" in elementary school art teacher speak actually means "a lot crazy" in normal person language. Fortunately, this is not a wasted course. In that first class, I learned a lot, including, but not limited to, the following:
1. Always feel the paper before you buy.
2. Always feel the colors before you buy.
3. When drawing with colors, draw with feeling and from the inside out.
4. Oil pastels are the best choice of color.
5. The oil pastels that feel like lipstick are of the best quality, however, they melt when it is summer. They are perfect in the winter, though. (It was at this point in the lesson that my new best friend forever, Edith, started to pretend her oil pastels were lipsticks).
6. Colored pencil is too linear to really demonstrate the body and life of colors.
7. The last week of school makes teachers crazy.
8. Ochre is Edith's favorite color because it matches her shirt.
9. Homework, is not only optional, but also required. But really optional. But you should do the homework, not because it is required, but because it is fun.
10. BU has the worst art school ever. (If you went to BU for Art, my teacher probably doesn't like you.)
The Second Class:
This time, I came better prepared. [I picked up some oil pastels on the way in (at the art store I made a new friend who helped me pick out a good set. I told him that I didn't really like oil pastels that much because they are too chunky but I was being forced to use them for a class. He made me try-and feel- every type they had and we settled on the superior quality cray pas not because they were the best or the worst, but because I said "Cray pas! I had these in elementary school." We both felt that the memory of elementary school art might make me like oil pastels more than some stuffy brand. Plus, they were the closest I could get to the lipstick consistency without spending all of my money).]
Once in class I sat next to Edith again, because as I said before, we are now art class BFFs. She showed me what she worked on over the weekend. I said I liked it. Then she asked me if I was liking the oil pastels. I said, not really, I still like colored pencils best. She replied with, "Why? You like being in control?" Touche, Edith, touche.
The assignment du jour was to blend colors together. We had to use either oil pastels or regular pastels. Since I had gone out and bought the oil pastels I thought I might as well use them. So I went about the task of blending my limited palette of colors with one another. What I created was actually stripes of colorful browns (if you can imagine that). It looked a lot like shit. Then, we had to go around the room and look at everyone's color blends. When the teacher got to mine, she oohed and ahhhed and said how much she loved it. Then she made everyone gather round to ogle my apparently lovely brown stripes and describe the beautiful colors that were on there. One girl said one of the colors looked like New Mexico. The teacher told her that wasn't a color, did anyone see an actual color? Everyone was quiet so I said "Brown?" That wasn't a good answer, either, apparently-- although Edith chuckled with her French Canadian accent. (The correct answers were Taupe, Olive, Ochre, and Burnt Sienna.) The whole scenario reminded me of Freshman year "I want to blow" (another story for another day, perhaps). Incidentally, I am a fantastic blender of colors, and if this course was graded I would probably get an A.
Things I learned:
1. Brown is not brown.
2. If you think it is ugly, you are probably wrong.
3. Picasso was never good with color.
4. Oil pastels suck.
5. New Mexico is not a color, it is a state.
6. Cray Pas is fun to say.
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