It's ba-ack

Oh, my. It has been quite a while since I posted. And interesting stuff has even happened! Oh well. My month in a nutshell: I passed my personal finance class better than I thought I would, though studying aspects of estates, wills, and estate taxes left me dreaming about how much of an inherited house (pretty one, too) was subject to estate taxes. I've just now started my second semester, and I think that, if my books get here and I can actually afford my art supplies, I will enjoy it greatly. I only have 2 studio classes (Ceramics 2 and Painting 1 -the expensive class), but I'm also in an Honors Psych class and an indulgent History class. The former is my final Honors class, save the Junior seminar, and I didn't need the latter but took it because I like history and I'd heard the teacher was excellent (so far, he really is). I've an Art History class as well about which I haven't much yet to say, but about which I'll probably complain later.
The largest item of note on the horizon is a Lip Sync show in which I will participate later this month. It's sponsored by the GLBT club here, Ally, and as a member (& VP) I'm not only participating but also helping with much of the set-up and take-down. I'm doing "Squish" from Cell Block Tango, a la Chicago, and Monkey and Le Batard are also in it. We did this show for the first time last year and while it was an absolute hoot, there were also some...learning experiences. Like not to put paper down on the runway, and that the stage set-up we used was not only the wrong shape, but also not the best choice of support (We used risers instead of an actual stage, and it had a runway theme that only worked for a couple of the acts but mostly stuck out like a sore thumb for the rest.)

Now, re: the title.......
I CAN PULL MY HAIR BACK AGAIN!
I re-acheived my mini-ponytail (affectionately named Robyn by Monkey the last time I grew my hair out) today. It requires the liberal use of hair clips, and whisps slip out of those, but it is Out Of My Face, and I've found 'my' face again. This may not make much sense, but though my hair's been short for rather a lot of the last 4 years, the face I mentally associate with myself has long hair. (It's also my natural color[s], which I haven't seen since, oh, this past summer.) I think many if not all people have an idea of 'self' with which they associate themselves, and mine has always had long hair, pulled back away from my face in a ponytail. It may sound odd, but I've missed my long hair, and have asked Monkey and Mum to remind me of this tedious wait for growth the next time I make noise about chopping the poor stuff off.

A friend and classmate of mine introduced me recently to a folk singer to die for: Heather Alexander/Alexander Adams. He's a FTM transgendered singer who, as a woman, was actually a very close ringer for the friend who introduced me to his work (there's no relation between the two). Look up his or her work on YouTube, no matter how long the bloody site takes to download; it's worth the wait. It's folk/folk based, and hence catchy as all get out, but really, really good.

Enough for now. I have actually finished my homework for tomorrow (as much as I can, cost and availability of painting supplies aside), and I want the sleep I denied myself the past two nights.
Au revoir,
~Brilliance and Light

Impacted

This upcoming week is, for lack of a better word, Homecoming week here at school, during which the classes compete against each other in service activities, skits, and dance for points. This morning was Impact Day, a community service day where we break into groups and go around town doing good work (and sometimes keeping in touch). I signed up to go clean and do random tasks at the Habitat for Humanity ReStore (a wonderful, splendiferous place). We got there and were directed to reorganized their furniture display so that a) the display included the rugs available, and b) it looked like mini room displays, kind of like those in retail stores. We did, it was fun, and I got to browse some as well. The store has a random shelf of lids that includes a duplicate of that which currently tops our butter dish. When we finished that, they had us paint some dividers from black to white. Much fun, and I was very glad I had worn my paint pants. When we finished up and were about to leave, our group leader came up and said, "I don't want to alarm anybody, but that was lead paint."
Whee.
Lead paint all over our arms, some faces, clothes, and we hadn't worn masks or gloves, though the area had been ventilated to the extent that the door was open.
Thankfully, the group leader's father is a doctor, and he said that as long as we got it off pronto and didn't make a habit of using lead paint that we should be fine. We all used mineral spirits from the Printmaking room to get the paint off, and I am not sure whether or not to keep my pants (a favorite pair, and highly useful for art classes).
I go general grr, but on a happy note, Le Batard came by this evening and we all visited, he gave me a back massage, and then we went to the Opera Scenes on campus, all of which made me much happier than earlier today.

My head hurts and Monkey is waiting up for this post before making us both go to bed.
Bon nuit, mes amies.
~Brilliance and Light