Today is Caitlin’s birthday. At least I think it is as long as there hasn’t been an apocalypse between my writing this on Thursday and her birthday…today (?). So, if my calculations are correct and the flux capacitor can get enough energy by the time I reach a speed of 88 miles per hour, I have just given Caitlin this lil’ present and then jumped on the train back to White River Junction. The train that has hover wheels.

…this is what my life has been like so far. For the first publications class project here at CCS, we made a facebook, in the old-fashioned sense where you see the names and faces of all the freshmen. Each person’s biography was xeroxed on the back of the previous person’s screen printed portrait. They were bound last Monday.

Caitlin and I are in the process of moving downstairs. The new place has a bit less square footage, but way more cubic feet cause the ceilings are twice as high. The huge windows bring in more light, the kitchen is a better shape, there’s a little deck on the back, and a marble “ornamental” fireplace in the front. Real estate. New York. It’s pretty nice, but I’ll only live there for a month before I run away to Vermont and Cait finds a roommate. This further solidifies the fact that I’m leaving for real which is quite distressing. Of course, the idea is I’ll be back next summer to do the second year from Brooklyn, but I don’t know. I don’t know how I’ll be able to pay rent here while I’m still in school. I wish at least one of us had rich parents. I don’t even care if that would make me a brat anymore. I just want my twenties to be easier. Now you say, “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today. I’ll see you for another session next week, okay?”

I’ve broken my covenant with the Internet! A whole week without a post! I’m into regimens and routines right now. At least one blog every week, doing ’shups even after my going clazy day. Also yesterday I got Wii Fit and the talking balance board told me to set goals for myself, with specific deadlines, so I can achieve! I’m a change agent! Speaking of which, I’m serious about the cartoon school thing, at least I think I am. At the very least I’m seriously sending off my materials next week. One of the application requirements is a comic featuring yourself, a robot, a snowman and a piece of fruit. It’s turning out pretty well; two out of three pages are done-zo. Not to brag or anything.

Golly, this might need to be scanned again, but on a real scanner. This green pen never scans well, I guess. Hell, it’s sorta hard to read on the actual paper. Nonetheless, I give you 2 Models:

I hate to impose any pretentious flower child symbolic resonance on my appearance, but I transformed myself yesterday: I pulled a Richie Tenenbaum. The only difference was that after I cut off my hair and shaved my face I didn’t slit my wrists, wake up and write a suicide note. Instead I freaked out and thought the cat disappeared. I couldn’t find her in any closets or under the bed or the couch, and when I stuck my head out the window it didn’t look like she’d fallen out, and then there she was in her regular spot under the coffee table.

I had thought I’d clean house after my renewal ritual, but I was too pumped up from the abyssopelagically cold water on my face, the long process of shaving off beard hairs that keep clogging a razor, the excitement of chopping off head hairs to myriad lengths and the terror of thinking Sheba was dead.

So I turned on the World Baseball Classic and did crunches and push-ups. Yeah! How you like me now! I hadn’t done working out in at least as long as I hadn’t shaved, which is about three years. It felt so good I popped in Wii Sports and did some boxing. Yes, that is exercising. At least the way I do it. Plus I did jumping jacks whenever my opponent or I was on the canvas. Work it! Hit it! Punch it!

Now that I don’t have a beard, I’m not trying to be a grown-up illustrator. Instead I’m a baby comic book artist. And if we make plans to meet somewhere, and some really pale 16 year-old kid starts coming at you from the crowd, it’s me.

Followers of this blog might know that I’m a Wii fanatic. I love using gestures and pointing at the screen as if I’m actually doing what the on-screen characters are doing, and I love the goofy type of games that the system attracts. Mostly I love making Miis.

After a month or so of fashioning Mii caricatures and posting them on the Check Mii Out Channel, I found myself looking at people and contemplating which features I would use from the exquisitely limited Mii palette. One lady’s eyes could be a perfect match for those really angular ones on the second page, or some guy’s hair could be decent with that pompadour-ish ‘do. (When I realized I should spend more energy drawing the specific angle of a nose than trying to find a close approximation on the Wii, I started the Celebrity Saturday series.)

I submit Miis to the weekly Check Mii Out contests (the people at Nintendo chose a theme, the people at home try to match it, and then judge which characters are the best fit). I obsess over how my little guys are doing on the Posting Plaza (the people at home toss up their best creations, and then give thumbs ups to the ones they like).

Well dudes, after a year of toiling in agony and obscurity, I’ve finally made the A List; I’m the Number 83 Mii Artisan. If I haven’t made myself clear enough, this is at least as good as discovering your high school lacrosse team is ranked among the Top 50 nationwide. It’s probably even as good as producing a movie that wins the Oscar for Best Sound Editing.

But that’s not all! Doo-oods, my Sarah Palin is tenth in the nation!!!!!!!! That’s like…! fuckin…I don’t know, say, winning six Gold Medals at the Olympics, o-kay?? [Actually, it was eight. -Precise Pat]

For realz:

I’m glad to say my favorite Top Chef Chicago won. She’s wonderful and she’s the hometown hero, with a delightful Chicago accent. Does anybody else think that people from the Midwest talk the way they do because they’re always cheesing? I think there might actually be something slightly insidious about all those hard R’s, gleeful E’s, and enthusiastic A’s… What are Midwesterners hiding from us???

Always-comin-through Jen May curated a group show that’s hanging in her apartment hallway Little Omar’s Gallery, and it’s all about roses!! My contribution is called “By Any Other Name” and it’s all about Gertrude Stein!!! And gold, no less!!!! Exclamation!!!!!

I’m feeling lost sans sketchbook, sans hard drive, sans backpack, sans everything. Guess that’s why I’m writing a blog post!