Category Archives: UnProfessional Photography & Artwork

College Sucked

I always measure my experiences in life to how they would be portrayed on a sitcom. As you might expect, my own experiences often play out much differently than in TV Land. College would be one of these.

College sucked. On TV, everyone is always a joiner who participates in every student activity. They make friends they will have for the rest of their lives. They go to parties. They learn to be deep thinkers. They find their soul mate.

Me? Not so much. I was a commuter with no car for 3 out of my 4 years of college. While waiting for my ride home every day, I had to kill hours in the library. There are only two friends that I made in college that I still keep in touch with.  I never went to a single party.  I am not a natural-born joiner. I joined some sort of academic fraternity that never had any activities just so that I could get a sweatshirt with Greek letters on it. Then I felt self-conscious in it and never wore it.  I submitted some of the depressing poetry I wrote while killing time in the library anonymously to the college literary magazine. They published a couple.

My two closest friends were at two other colleges in two different states. It made for a very lonely time in my life. My best friend came back home after her freshmen year (she HAD found the parties), which was better. But she was attending the university across town, so we never saw each other except at night.

I also had an undiagnosed, then diagnosed, stomach problem during this time as well.  So I felt miserable physically as well as mentally!

It was overall the loneliest year of my life.  I don’t really think I look forward to coming back in the fall.  -JLF 4/27/95

My other friend, my asbestos friend, had an even worse college experience than me. I told her this week how I was going through my old college free-writes to get a true sense of the misery to work on my new story (and this blog post). Her reply?

“I don’t think I could relive that time. I’ve blocked much of it out & I think that’s for the best.”

She has told me a few of her great miserable stories, including being sick with mono and all alone, and donating so much blood for money that she passed out in the parking lot at the donation place. (Those are two separate occasions. I think.) But my favorite story is the one where she takes her life back into her own hands. It’s the story where during her last semester she realizes college is making her miserable and she is an adult. She has her own job and her own place to live. She just leaves the campus and never turns back. She is my hero:)

I did not leave. I stayed, hoping to get my MRS. degree. I only went to college because my mom told me I had to either do that or get a job. I had gone to school for K-12 years. I had never had a job. I picked the option I was familiar with. I should have got a job. Now I have a Bachelor’s Degree and I am applying to entry-level store jobs at Meijer, Cash Advance, and Family Video. And they are not hiring me.

Compilation of 2 No Doubt drawings I made while in college

Compilation of 2 No Doubt drawings I made while in college

I had my first boyfriend for a month my freshmen year. After it ended, from my old writings, I seemed to be lonelier than before.

When I was in high school, I had a few hours after school everyday before my mom got home from work that was my time to myself. In college, I had no privacy. My mom was my ride. If she was home I was home and she drove me nuts. (This is probably the only way my college experience was worse than my asbestos friend’s.) My bedroom didn’t even have a door. I would stay up late to do homework, and find myself watching Beavis & Butthead marathons on MTV instead. I always said that I could feel my brain cells rotting away as I watched that show. I think it helped numb my depression. Then my mom, who always slept on the couch in the living room where the only TV was, would wake up. (Yes, I went to college in the Dark Ages. My college had text-only Internet my freshmen year!) She would ask me,”Are you watching Beaver & Buttface?” I mostly watched it for the music videos, which sucks, because any version released on DVD has only limited music videos. How much did I watch them? Here are a poem and some fan artwork from that time:

Lovin’ the Boys
By: JLF
3/7/95

If I make a video
Can I get on that show?
First I would have to make
A really cool video
You know,
One with lots of guitars,
And riffs, and drums.
I would stumble around
In a really short dress
And scream all the words
Really, really loud.
I would put in some shots
Of farm animals and livestock,
And throw in a toilet
(To give them something to talk about).
Then I would send it to New York,
To that video channel,
And wait every day & every night
For them to put my video on that show.
They could sit there on their couch
In their dirty T-shirts & stinky shorts
And watch my video.
That dark-haired guy and his dumb-blond friend
Could belch and fart
And yell “Fire! Fire!”
Then they would deem my video
As “Cool” or “Sucks”,
By how short my dress was,
How loud I yelled,
And the fact my video had only one
Toilet in it.
But I would be happy
Because I got to see my video,
With one of those yellow, pointy
signs with their names in it
In the corner of the screen.

And that would make it worthwhile. . .

Illustration I made based on a video that Beavis & Butthead mocked.  (My son likes this pic a lot.  Maybe I should be concerned about that.)

Illustration I made based on a video that Beavis & Butthead mocked. (My son likes this pic a lot. Maybe I should be concerned about that.)

I ended up getting an on-campus job, so I started interacting with my classmates a little more. It also got me out of the library. I got paid (!) to wait for my ride. That helped a little.

Then I got a better boyfriend. I couldn’t find him at college, because he was still in high school. (I should have flunked!) Those who know me know he is now my husband.

Then I got an off-campus job too, in addition to those other things. My best friend worked at the convenience store too, and helped me get the job. People who know me know it was one of my favorite jobs. I liked it so well that I saved up my earnings over the summer so that I could buy a car so that in the fall I could keep the job while I finished college. (Most people get a job to get a car. I got a car to keep a job.)

I should become a writer like Erma Bombeck & just write about “stuff”. -JLF (found in an old college notebook)

So, ya, college sucked for me.  I can enthusiastically say that not everyone enjoys themselves at college.  Accept this post and the accompanying writings below as evidence.  Probably the worst time of my life. When my son gets old enough, I don’t know how I will ever be able to keep from talking negatively about it. I kind of feel about it the way I do about the Lord of the Rings films. I want my time and money back. I want my four years and my $18,000 back (I got a lot of scholarships).

Untitled
By: JLF
4/8/95

There’s a party tonight
General Admission – $2
There’s a party tonight
Everyone Welcome
Are you going to the party tonight?
I don’t think they mean me
Are you going to the party tonight?
Everyone would be happier if I didn’t
Everyone’s going
But I am not
Everyone’s going
I’ll stay home and listen
to my own silence.
Sometimes a person
has to look through the thick, black
copier ink lettering
And realize that circumstances
and situations and history
are the things that really predict
who will attend the ball
and who will stay home.

The Driving Rain
By: JLF

It is 9:06PM.  It’s raining.  I have a half a tank of gas.  Will this be the night.  Will this be the night I keep going and don’t look back?

I could change my life right now.  It would be just as easy as changing channels on the television.  I can see all my different options spread out in front of me, and the television channels just keep going.  There is the music video channel, blaring sounds and images.  There is Channel 25.  All Hitler, All the time.  The third reicht of the Chicago area.  Heil!  Channel 25.  Then the weather channel.  Do I want rain or do I want sunshine?  Which road will lead me to what type of weather?

Oh.  I’m on the road back home.  But I still don’t have to go there.  This road is so boring, so familiar.  A person could die on a road like this and the drivers who travel it every day would probably not notice the body for months.  Was the light I just went through green or read, not that it would really mater.  The slick road is completely vacant of other cars.  The only tire marks I can see on the wet pavement are in my rear view mirror.  I could slip out of town now, right out of the city limits.  No one would see me, no one would be the wiser.

God, to just keep driving.  To have no pre-planned destination, no over-analyzed goals—it all sounds like a dream.  For the first time since I walked into Kindergarten on Experience Day and was assigned a seat and pencils and crayons, I would be in charge for myself.  New mothers complain about not having handbooks to care for their new children.  It is too bad they don’t make handbooks for the children, to help figure out what is right for themselves.  I feel like I have never done anything I truly wanted to in my entire life.

One more road until home.  Is this it?  Well, a few times I have done what I wanted.  There was the time I went to the carnival by myself, and I kept playing games until I won a stuffed animal.  But I felt as though everyone was staring at me because I was by myself.  (I am always by myself.  I am at this very moment.)  I got a stuffed animal that day.  But it wasn’t from the guy I flirted with or the games I tried the hardest at.  I got my little stuffed bear from a crooked game and, even though I know that, I still think of him as a lucky charm.

Should someone as naïve as I be roaming around the nation’s highways?  Probably not.

Ahh—I just passed the drive to my house.  But it wasn’t a brave, meaningful decision of symbolism as I had hoped.  I simply got too caught up in my petty thoughts.  But there is always a last refuge of a coward.  I click on my turn signal for the next road, like reflex. I will turn around and make my way back to the same house and my same room.

Tonight—tonight I just couldn’t do it.  Rain can be romantic, but it is also scary.  A half a tank of gas, well, maybe I’ll try it when there is a full tank.  Maybe I’ll try it when I have more courage, or more caffeine coursing through my veins.  Maybe I just need something more to run away from than familiarity.

So, I pull in the same driveway, unlock the same door with the same key, and walk through the living rom.  I flick on the TV without even turning on a lamp, enjoying the flashes of blue that light up the room instead.  I turn on the Weather Channel and see what it will be like tomorrow.

I hate life.
By: JLF
8/96
I hate life. I hate life. Life sucks so bad. My life is just one f***ing blackhole, which I don’t know what that is because I am too lazy & distracted to bother to read my astronomy book to bother to find out what a f***ing blackhole is! And why do I have to come back to f***ing school, which I f***ing hate! I have only had panic attacks while I had to go to school since I was in, like Kindergarten. I HATE SCHOOL! It makes me feel all yucky inside. It makes me feel dark & gloomy inside. It makes me feel like I do when I think about death–> DEATH, how stiffling & cold & lonely & empty it will be. That is what every second at school feels like to me…

From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea

In high school junior year (1992–please do not do the  math on my age), I had a class called Issues, which was History and English combined.  I know, it sounds strange and it was strange at the time.  Anyway, in that class there was a kid with a T-shirt on with a poem-type thing on the back.  I kept reading it and liked it, so I copied it down.  I then hung it on my bedroom wall for years and memorized it.  Here is the original sheet of paper it was written on.

Beautiful, unknown lyrics*

Beautiful, unknown lyrics*

For those whose browsers are picky about pictures, here is the text:

…and so we watch the sun come up
from the edge of the deep green sea
and she listens like her head’s on fire
like she wants to believe in me
so I try
put your hands in the sky
surrender
remember
we’ll be here forever
and we’ll never say goodbye. . .*

For years, these were just words I copied off a guy’s T-shirt. There was a Bon Jovi song that had similar lyrics, but these were clearly not from that song. I figured I would never find out where it came from, and I was kind of OK with that.

When I got sick of the crusty yellowing notebook paper on my wall, I decided to make a plaque with the words on it. (I’m just a lil bit crafty;) I wrote all the lettering with a toothpick dipped in black paint. I was pretty proud of myself.

Wooden plaque I made to replace the notebook paper*

Wooden plaque I made to replace the notebook paper*

Then one day at work (October 25, 2000 to be exact), my green-haired friend sent me an email with a Mad Libs type story, using the word “GREEN” and the phrase “THE DEEP DARK SEA” in it. So I typed up my “and so I watch the sun come up…” words to her and hit send.

GHF: whoah that was weird!!!!! you have totally stunned me into silence…. how did you know?

ME: know what?
I got that off some guy’s shirt in high school
I have no idea what it is from–do you?
I memorized it, and I painted it on a wooden plaque:)

GHF: it’s a cure song silly i think you know more than you say

ME: [AM] wore a cure shirt in 92?
I wouldn’t have thought he was into that.
Yah! My mystery is solved:)

GHF: That’s me and [S]’s favorite song (lyric-wise) called…. “from the edge of the deep green sea” It’s the song that brought us together. he he

ME: That is just too freaky–is that why that one site is called “deep green sea” whoa, it is all falling together:)

GHF: YES!!!!! I KNOW YOU REPEATED THAT LINE TO ME AND I TOTALLY FLIPPED!

Then the email degenerates into me craving Butterfingers. But, you get the idea. It was a MOMENTOUS moment in my life.

My green-haired friend and my crazy friend (not crazy in the head, just crazy fun-wise) both were in love with the Cure, especially at this time in history. They tried to convert me. I was busy listening to Kid Rock’s Devil Without A Cause album daily. While I do own the song “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea” by the Cure now, the only Cure song I actually like is “A Night Like This”, performed by Professional Murder Music (see YouTube video below for a taste).

http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-xTfUi_q3IWvsnVDYakoqHVgqQXYd-P2
* Song lyrics from “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea” by The Cure (Bamonte, Gallup, Smith, Thompson, Williams).

This was a quotation mystery that it only took me eight years to solve.  For a quote that I am still trying to find the source of, come back to read Thursday’s blog.

Funky Friday!

As seeing Hello Kitty always makes me smile, this picture always makes me giggle. It is dirty, in a very elementary school way.

Enjoy!

Heeheehee.

Heeheehee.

Candy Bar Diet

NOTE: My original idea. All rights reserved.

If you steal my idea and make millions from it, I will sue your ass. And that will probably be easier than if I just tried to make millions off my idea myself.

A few years ago, I created a Candy Bar Diet. I think it is a brilliant idea. Most people don’t understand it.

The core of the diet is to track the calories you eat in a day using the magnetic, dry-erase Handy Dandy Candy Board, featured in the back of the book that explains the diet. The Handy Dandy Candy Board uses adorable candy bar magnets to track the calories you eat in a day. I created a mock up that I used myself. It was much more fun than keeping a food diary.

The following are the excerpts from the book and pictures of the mock-up.

Handy Dandy Candy Board – Daily calorie tracker and goal  © not-quite-a-diet 2010

Introduction:

Candy Bar Calorie Counter

It’s “not-quite-a-diet”

How It Works

Candy bars (the normal sized ones here, no cheating with King-sized) are generally average out to be 230 calories. No matter what you eat in a day, you know you are always thinking: Can I still squeak in a candy bar?  Of course you can!  Especially if you think of all your calorie counting in terms of candy bars!

Start off with the maximum number of calories you want to collect in your flabby body in a day.  Let’s say 1600 calories.  Divide that by the average calories in a candy bar: 230 calories.  That would mean you could eat calories equal to 7 candy bars in a day.  And now with the dry erase, magnetic Handy Dandy Candy Board, it is easy to track to your daily goal.

Examples

That 20oz of Coke you just drank with 240 calories?  That equals a candy bar.  The honey bun you ate for breakfast at 460 calories—sorry, that’s 2 candy bars.  Ate out for lunch & don’t know the calories?  Be honest with yourself & give it your best guess.  A cheddar bacon cheeseburger would probably be at least 3 candy bars.  No complicated math. No tracking every tiny Pez candy.  Feel free to round, but be honest with yourself.  If you cheat, it will only harm yourself.  I don’t care how much you eat in a day.  I just want you to appreciate my adorable candy bar magnets, which I was inspired to create while squandering my life & my creativity in a cubicle.

Your Tools

Decide on your calorie/candy bar daily goal.  Write it on the dry erase, magnetic Handy Dandy Candy Board .  Place a candy bar magnet on the board every time you consume 230 calories in your day.  The magnets are kept in a convenient storage pocket until you need them.  Where do those calories come from?  That is entirely up to you!

There is also a handy journal included to track your progress, if you are into that sort of thing.  There is a Calories-to-Candy Bar Conversion Chart.  Once the day is done, clear your candy slate & start over again!  Conveniently sized to travel with you throughout the day as you rack up the candy bars, er, the calories:)

Why Count in Candy Bars?

This just happens to be how my brain works!  And I AM guilty of eating multiple candy bars in a day.  Whenever I tried to keep a journal of what I ate, I never made it through one day.  I never made it through more than ONE MEAL!  It was boring & tedious.  But I realized that I was finding myself saying “well, these 2 toaster pastries equal 2 candy bars…maybe I should just eat the candy instead?!”

If you tried a strict dieting plan & became discouraged, this might be a good place to start over.  By making it easier to track what you are eating, you are more likely to actually keep it up!  Try the calorie counter with sweet indulgences figured right in!

Sometimes just keeping track of what you eat can encourage you to eat less.  If your board is filling up, and it’s a choice between cheesecake or dinner, you might just choose dinner.  If it’s a Friday night after a long week of work, you might choose cheesecake. But you will be educated & know that by eating both, you could be packing on the pounds.

The Facts

Typically a person needs 2,000 to 2,500 calories a day.  To maintain your weight, you would want to eat around 2,000 calories (9 magnetic candy bars worth a day), depending on how active you are.  If you want to lose weight, you would want to eat less.

Your best bet for an accurate calorie count is on the “Nutrition Facts” label on your food packaging, or in some cases on the company’s website.  MAKE SURE you read the Serving Size, and be sure to multiply your servings by the Calories per Serving.  Once you have that number, it is easy to use the Calories-to-Candy Bar Conversion Chart to add the appropriate candy bar magnets to your candy bar board.

And FYI…Eating 9 candy bars in a day is not recommended & will definitely result in a tremendous stomach ache.

Also, more than just calories go into making you fat, such as, well, FAT.  This is a highly simplified system, therefore we only track calories.  Consider yourself warned!

©  not-quite-a-diet 2010

Calories-to-Candy Bar Conversion Chart

© not-quite-a-diet 2010

Candy Bar Log

© not-quite-a-diet 2010

Storage pocket for Handy Dandy Candy Board candy bar magnets. © not-quite-a-diet 2010

That is the Candy Bar Diet. Do you think it would work for you?

Things Found In My House

My house is old.

My husband found a record that suggested it was built in the 1890’s. We bought our house in 2004. About a year before all the home prices got really cheap. We were told that Phil Donahue used to live in the beige house across the street. (There are two beige houses.) I LOVE PHIL DONAHUE. We were also told there is a jar of pennies in the wall between the dining room and the nursery. We haven’t knocked down the wall to get them yet.

When we moved in, my husband was hoping to find secret passageways and treasure. He stayed up late nights poking around the house trying to find something to discover.

I think maybe secretly he still does.

Objects found around our house.

Objects found around our house.


For someone expecting to find treasure, it is a big disappointment to only find a roof leak that a previous owner tried to disguise and some Scrabble tiles in the heat registers. I have a whole box of trinkets I keep of the things we have found in this house. They do tell its history, even if they are worthless to the average antique dealer.
Toys found in our yard and down our heat registers.

Toys found in our yard and down our heat registers.


Most of our discoveries came from vacuuming out the heat registers. Some kid(s) lived here that shoved everything that would fit down there. When we redid the dining room ceiling, we found ugly old wallpaper and nuts. Apparently at some point in the last hundred years our house served as a squirrel motel. (I HATE SQUIRRELS!)

Someone told me our house is Victorian. I have no idea. I do know that between the time that the house had its original wood exterior siding and the aluminum/vinyl siding it currently sports, someone had shingles all over it. Not like nice, New England wood shingles. Like the ugly asphalt kind you put on your roof. I cannot imagine. I guess I should be thankful they are still there, buried under other siding. I think it makes up for our lack of adequate insulation. (If I win the lottery, I am having the siding striped down to its original wood exterior again.) And someone who used to live here loved the color “brick red”. The kitchen cupboards, many rooms, (I also believe) the now white aluminum/vinyl siding all used to be that dark red.

Hobbit Door to our Attic.  If only I had a Hobbit to put in front of it for perspective.

Hobbit Door to our Attic. If only I had a Hobbit to put in front of it for perspective.


Our attic has a hobbit door. That is what we call it. Somehow we crammed an air hockey table through it. (Air hockey and bowling and badminton are the only sports I can play at all. My play is definitely below average.

When we moved into our house, my Lab-Chow mix dug up a rawhide in the backyard that some other dog must have left behind. My Pointer recently would not stop digging holes in the backyard. And every time he digs, more of the dirt dissipates into the grass and cannot be recovered to refill the hole again. This makes for a dangerous backyard (not to mention the dog poop out there). Not to mention there used to be a swimming pool in our backyard and the ground is forever compacted and lower where it used to be. (As told to us by the neighbors who live behind us. The husband’s brother used to own our house.)

The perfume bottle, after I cleaned it up as best I could.

The perfume bottle, after I cleaned it up as best I could.


The Pointer ended up unearthing a glass perfume bottle. It doesn’t look very old, as I think the glass is molded rather than blown. That was a nice discovery. Usually, as it rains and we walk around in the backyard, all that gets unearthed are pieces of broken glass and marbles. (It makes you wonder what sort of people use their backyard as a trash dump. My husband insists that everyone used to.)

Because the Pointer kept digging, that got my husband curious and he took his metal detector (that he got at a garage sale and it didn’t come with instructions and he doesn’t know what the controls do) outside. What did he find? A piece of twisted red scrap metal and an old clothesline post base.

The poor treasure hunter can’t catch a break.