Brianna

bicollin@syr.edu — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 03:43:16 GMT

After standing outside with him tonight (in the unseasonably warm weather) looking out over the city lights, I realized why being with Chris and actually getting serious about certain things in our relationship makes me miss Seth: I haven't been this certain about someone-- this completely, I can't help it, feel it in my bones certain-- since him. And I'm afraid of three things:

One, that I won't be able to hold onto him.
Two, that I will see an opportunity to tell him how I truly feel and not take it for fear of scaring him off.
Three, that I will take that chance, and I'll get my heart broken.

But if losing Seth twice made me learn anything, it's that life is too damn short to not say what you need to say when you need to say it. Sounds cliche, but it's true.

bicollin@syr.edu — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 23:35:41 GMT

So I'm a bum for not updating. Apologies. It's been due to shortage of time, really-- six CMD projects plus Capstone plus Vagina Monologues stuff plus other homework plus trying to have a social life doesn't leave much time for LJ. But I will try to be better in the coming weeks.

October passed quickly, and we are already a week into November. Time seems to be flying.

Highlights:
- A visit from Marissa and her boyfriend just yesterday
- Halloween spent handing out condoms to partygoers
- Getting through midterm reviews
- Tour guiding for Fall Reception days
- Eleven monthiverary with Christopher
- First round of Vagina Monologues auditions
- Seeing Brian for family weekend

Luckily, the highlights have outweighed the low points. But I find there is always this looming sense of uncertainty that is Life After Graduation that colors everything I do, even now, this relatively early into the year, both academically and socially. It's hard not to freak out at every turn. I would elaborate, but I'm trying not to think about it too much now. Plus, I've got work to attend to.

I'm sorry, LJ. You'll see me again soon, I promise.

bicollin@syr.edu — Tue, 20 Oct 2009 02:24:21 GMT

While I should be in the middle of freaking out because of midterm review, I feel strangely calm. I feel like I'm finally coming into my own in CommDesign. I'm finally learning how to take criticism while still maintaining ownership of my projects, and getting more confident in my ideas. I realize I'm starting to answer questions and be somewhat of a mentor for the sophomores. I have more work than I'd ever thought possible for 450, and of course I still freak out about it, but somehow it all manages to get done. And, in a weird way, I'm starting to look forward to the job hunt.

Is this what it feels like to be a senior?

bicollin@syr.edu — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 04:18:49 GMT

I know I haven't updated in a while (boo me-- though I have been updating my Capstone blog pretty regularly, if you're following that) and I feel like I should write a "this has been my life since my last update" entry, but I'll do that later. Right now, I feel compelled to talk about something else.

Jim and Pam.

It's weird. I used to be an Office fanatic. Nothing would keep me from watching it every Thursday night (well, except CommDesign, haha). I had memorized every line and was totally involved with all the characters. Most of all, Jim and Pam. From season one, their interaction was what really kept me watching. The show was hilarious overall, but really I just felt for the two of them. When he confessed his love for her, I was on the edge of my seat. I hated Karen because you were supposed to hate her, because she got in the way of Jim ending up with Pam. I loved her confession at beach day. When Jim came back from his interview at Corporate and asked her out, I was ecstatic. I wanted them to be happy and together and have little Jam babies.

But things took a turn for the unsettling once Pam finally got her chance to strike out on her own and go to New York and try her hand at graphic design. Maybe I'm biased, because that's my field, but I don't think that has much to do with it-- really, I just wanted Pam to not end up a receptionist at a crappy company in Scranton for the rest of her life. (As Jim himself says in an early episode after she decides going to graphic design school isn't worth it because Roy says so, "Do you really want to be a receptionist here, always?") So they got engaged and she went to New York, and there was of course tension because they can't just be happy together. And then she failed out of design school and came back to Scranton. Her hopes were dashed, and she didn't try again, and then rationalized her way out of it by saying that graphic design is stupid. I was barely holding on at that point. Then Jim bought his parents' house in Scranton for the two of them to live in, and she loved it, and that's when I stopped watching.

It was the idealist in me that wanted Jim and Pam to get together, get out of Scranton, and be happy and successful together. Jim would find a job he actually liked, and Pam would pursue her passion for art and perhaps foray that into a career. They would settle somewhere exciting, like a big city, and not be stuck in the Dunder Mifflin doldrums forever. But to settle for jobs you both can't really stand at a company you've been bored at for years and living in the same house you grew up in because that's all you know and that's all you care to know... that's what turned my idealism into disappointment.

Where did the ambition go? Where did all the dreams go? An adult I know explained that as you get older, your priorities change-- your dreams in your mid-twenties don't fit into your life five years later. The life you think you want changes. Maybe it's because I'm only twenty-one, but... damn, that sounds depressing. Not that I think families and houses and good neighborhoods in the suburbs are depressing. I come from exactly that. But I don't know... just the thought of your adult life being about rationalizing away your dreams so you live the life you think you should... that's what scares me. Especially as graduation and the "real world" creep closer and closer every day.

This all being said, I thought their wedding episode was adorable and it gave me that old Jim and Pam sweet feeling again.

bicollin@syr.edu — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 00:25:30 GMT

I miss it every day, but the review we had tonight really made me think about it...

If I could go back to London tomorrow, I would.

Annual Yom Kippur entry

bicollin@syr.edu — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 19:33:14 GMT

So here we are once again. Yom Kippur. Which means, of course, my annual Yom Kippur entry. I've been doing this since high school, and it's a nice way to recap the year and look forward to the year ahead. I looked at my entry from last year, and I did write a letter to myself, which this year I plan on answering. So this is my letter from last year:

Dear Future Brianna,

Number one: do you go abroad? Please say yes. Like, seriously. Say yes. And then subsequently do you have an amazing time? Please say yes to that one as well. And please elaborate on the amazingness of your time in London. I'd appreciate it.

Now that I've gotten that out of the way... let's think. What's it like being a CommDesign senior? Scary, I bet. Also, what are you doing for your Capstone project? Where and with whom are you living? With Meg and Kelsey, right, but where? Because as of right now you still didn't know that when you wrote this entry. Um, what's your boy situation? I know you have a crush on every boy, but besides that.

How is the family? Mom's still okay after surgery, right? Are you already making plans to move into Marissa's basement after graduation?

Have you finished that story you're working on yet? You know which one I'm talking about.

And, I suppose most importantly, this isn't a question but... I hope you lived this year in a way that made you happy. That you took advantage of opportunities (*cough cough London cough cough*) and did what you wanted but weren't careless or callous, that you looked after yourself but still were there for others. This year, I am loved and blessed and so fortunate. I hope next year, Future Brianna, you can say the same thing.

Sincerely,
Present Brianna

P.S. How hungry are you right now? 'Cause I'm pretty hungry.

And now here is my reply:

Dear Past (at the time Present) Brianna,

Number one: Yes! I went abroad! Seriously, I went abroad, and it was absolutely amazing. It was unlike anything you expected, but everything you needed. I would, as you asked me to do, elaborate on the awesome time I had, but for two reasons I won't do that here. One, it's hard to tell you what an unbelievable time I had, and number two, it comes up again later on in this reply to your letter. So read on.

What's it like being a CommDesign senior? Crazy, but less scary than I thought. (But then again, talk to me next semester when I'm taking my portfolio class.) I'm almost through my first credit of the semester (this year I have six credits in a semester, eep!) and onto my second. But I'm doing okay so far. As for my Capstone project, that's where going abroad comes back in: I'm writing and illustrating and publishing my own graphic novel about my experiences abroad.

I am living with Kelsey, like you said, with Meg in the apartment right next door. Actually, I am sitting in Meg's apartment watching TV with her-- she is fasting with us this year, because her boyfriend Justin is Jewish. How sweet! (Just one of the changes that took place last year after you wrote this entry.)

What's my boy situation? Well, just before going abroad, you and Chris admitted you liked one another, and went on a couple of not-quite-dates, then one real date. Then he came to visit over winter break. Then you left for England, having decided to become official. (As the two of you liked to say, "we're screwed!") You stayed together through London (he got to come visit, which was amazing) and through the summer. So we're still together now, and pretty vomitously happy. And he's fasting today as well. Because he's a sweetheart.

Mom's totally okay still, but the family suffered some more unfortunate events this summer. Dad fell down some stone stairs and tore a ligament in his knee, so he needed surgery and is still in the recovery process today. But even worse, Pop-Pop died after a week of being hospitalized for heart problems. This is the family's first Yom Kippur without him. Mom and Dad are spending the holiday down the shore with Mom-Mom and Aunt Barbara, so that everyone is as together as possible for breaking the fast. I called this afternoon, and Mom-Mom told me I was a good girl. And as for living in Marissa's basement, she might have a new basement in the coming year, because she's got an awesome boyfriend. Yay!

And no, I haven't finished that story yet. But I will. I promise.

Sincerely,
Present Brianna

P.S. I'm pretty damn hungry.

And now, instead of writing a whole letter to myself for next year, I just want to know three things: where are you, what are you doing, and who are you with? I find that's the most appropriate way to deal with the nebulous future that lies ahead of me after graduation.

Soon I will be breaking the fast with Allie, Meg, Justin, Chris, and a few of Justin's friends. But for the last thing: As for feeling blessed and loved and fortunate, I feel that even more so this year than I did last year. What a wonderful feeling that is.

bicollin@syr.edu — Sun, 27 Sep 2009 16:31:42 GMT

So I've started reading PostSecret pretty religiously every Sunday now. I used to check it once in a while, if I remembered about it, but ever since Chris and I went to the PostSecret exhibit in June at the Everson, I've been checking up on it every week.

At the exhibit, he pointed to a postcard that was decorated with a forest in autumn and said, "Imagine my surprise when you loved me back." And then he smiled, and kissed me.

Sometimes I wonder what his secret would be.

bicollin@syr.edu — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 00:42:09 GMT

For those of you who care, I just started a blog that will track the (slow and arduous) process I'm making on my Capstone project.

If you are so inclined, please visit http://capstonebikc.blogspot.com/ and leave me some encouraging comments!

bicollin@syr.edu — Sun, 13 Sep 2009 17:55:47 GMT

Last night, out of the blue, Chris told me he wanted to keep the fast with me for Yom Kippur.

I was completely surprised. Meg is keeping the fast with Justin, but I never thought Chris would-- not because he's a bad boyfriend or anything (in fact quite the opposite) but because he's not really a fan of organized religion, and not eating or drinking for an entire day for a faith that's not even your own is quite a leap, I think, especially since we're still in college and so we're very far away from any real commitment. It's a lot to ask of someone, and I wasn't planning on asking him to. But I didn't even need to. He just volunteered.

Of course, because he's Chris and he can never be too sweet, he referred to it as "fasting for Jesus... or something." But no matter how many jokes he makes, or how grumpy he'll be when he can't have soda all day, the fact remains that he's fasting, and he's fasting with me... and for me, really.

I will have a lot to reflect on come Yom Kippur. And thankfully, a lot to be grateful for.

bicollin@syr.edu — Fri, 04 Sep 2009 14:08:55 GMT

I don't know why my body decided to wake me up this early on a day when I have no classes, but since it did... first impressions of my classes:

ETS 360 Reading Gender and Sexuality in the Arab World:
This class is a lot of work, but it's really interesting, so I'm torn between not wanting to read dry theoretical essays about (post)colonial Western imperialist notions of feminism (and I don't know why "post" is in parentheses like that, I think it just makes it looks more snootily academic for no reason) and between really interesting class discussions about different views on feminism, and how difficult feminism is to pin down. It won't be an easy class, which I kind of figured, and it's a class that I'm sure more often than not I'll leave thoroughly worked up, but I have a feeling it's a class I'll enjoy despite the workload.

CER 223 Introduction to Wheel Throwing:
No, this is not an ancient Scottish tradition to be performed by burly men in kilts on hilltops. This is how you make cups, bowls, vases, pots, and the like out of clay on the pottery wheel. (Most people are disappointed when I tell them what "wheel throwing" really means.) My instructor for this class is a graduate student in his late twenties named Shawn. He is hot. That will probably be a problem for me later on when he's doing a demo and I am looking at him instead of what he's making. But for his hotness, he does seem a little annoyed to be teaching an intro level class that, let's be honest, most people take without the slightest intention of moving on with the sequence (like me.) He gave us a little bit of a lecture about how wheel throwing is really difficult and you need to take the time to learn how to do it right. I had the feeling I was going to be the slow kid in this class anyway, but now I don't mind that as much because I might get a little bit more personal attention, nudge nudge wink wink.

ART 080 Visual Communications Symposium:
This zero-credit mandatory symposium is basically a waste of time for every design student, save one or two guest speakers. This year, Massimo Vignelli, the guy who designed the New York subway system map, is coming to speak. Which is pretty fucking cool, as he is kind of like a design god for us. But other than that, this is just a dumb class that screws up my schedule on the middle of every Wednesday.

Independent Study for Capstone Preparation:
Holy fucking shit you guys. My first meeting with Bill went like I had suspected rather than what I'd hoped, and now all the work I'd gotten done over the summer is going to be turned on its head and used as a "first draft" rather than a "hey look how close to done I am!" draft. While I know he is right about this (looking at some of the page layouts, it's easy to see where the design of it goes stale and I can get way more creative) it's still quite the frustrating endeavor. I might die doing this. But he did say, "I know you won't disappoint me." Which is why I picked him as an advisor-- he pummels the shit out of you emotionally, turns you around a thousand times until you're dizzy, then gives you a big hug afterwards.

CMD 450 Communications Design Problems:
Holy fucking shit all over again, you guys. Seniors have to do six projects in a semester. Six. Projects. Looking at the schedule, I almost had a coronary. All the seniors are naturally freaking out. But my first idea got approved! I'm doing a store for felt housewares. (Oh, the crazy shit you can do in CMD.) I know this semester will be miles better than first semester CMD last year. But it'll definitely be a tough haul. I have Bill again for this class, so I have him basically for my two most challenging classes, and he uses the same "spin you on your head" technique in both. So it should be an interesting semester. Oh, and even with no one presenting real projects, we still got out quarter after eight. We started class at two. And that's an early night for us. ...Yep.

bicollin@syr.edu — Thu, 27 Aug 2009 03:16:59 GMT

Got back to school yesterday afternoon. I would like to give you a play by play, but instead, I will give you little snippets from this week so far.

Monday evening, during which Evan and I reconnected and ate Rita's water ice in Ambler:
Me: Look at you! You're all grown up!
Evan: Yeah, I didn't want to say anything, but you're definitely grown up too. I noticed it when I first saw you.
Me: *Hugs Evan*
Evan: Oh... hey.
Me: I thought this moment deserved a hug. But don't worry, it's like a bro hug.
Evan: Okay. So we just had a bro moment.
Me: A broment!

At the end of our evening, while Evan walked me to the door:
Me: So let's not to that again. I mean, let's... not not talk.
Evan: ... So you mean, let's talk.
Me: Yes!

Tuesday afternoon, when we've gotten to school, my parents have left, and Chris is over helping me lug stuff up the stairs.
Chris: So you're here.
Me: Yes.
Chris: And I'm here.
Me: Yep!
Chris: And we're both in the same place.
Me: And we will be for a while. Like four months.
Chris: I don't believe you.
Me: It's true!
Chris: I don't think I can handle that.

Tuesday night, after Chris decided he would be too tired after RA stuff to come over and hang out:
Me: (texting) Can you talk on the phone for a little?
Chris: (texting) Yeah.
Me: (on the phone, surveying my collection of rubber ducks) I have too many ducks. I'm like a crazy duck lady.
Chris: (on the phone) Fuck this, I'm coming over to your apartment.
Me: Really?
Chris: Yeah, I decided that instead of sitting in my room and being grumpy that I couldn't see you, I could just see you instead.

This afternoon, in Meg's apartment while she was moving in:
Me: I can't believe this, we're like literally five feet away from each other. This is so cool!
Meg: I think our bedrooms share a wall.
Meg's Mom: You'll have to work out some kind of system for banging on the wall to say goodnight.
Meg: Yeah, one bang for Brianna, two for Kelsey.
Me: I can just see us, like a split screen, with our hands up touching either side of the wall, reaching for each other.
Meg: (reaches her hand out melodramatically) Briannaaa......

This evening, after Chris and I got dinner at Sadler and were hanging out in his room afterwards:
Chris: You're really here. And I'm here too.
Me: I know!
Chris: And we can see each other, but do our own thing in between.
Me: It's like we're really dating or something.
Chris: It's awesome. Because, I mean, I love you, but when I have to spend three days straight with you I go a little crazy.
Me: Oh my God me too! I love you, but you need to do your own thing, and I need to do my own thing too.
Chris: I was a little afraid to say something about it.
Me: Oh, totally. But don't worry about it. I feel the same way.
Chris: Why are we the same person?

Other highlights of the past two days have been a hilarious phone message from Eric (who I am having bubble tea with tomorrow), a good long catch up talk with Kelsey, s'mores at the boys' new house off campus, seeing some of Kelsey's artwork, putting up my room decorations, and avoiding all the work I need to do.

Tomorrow I really, really need to buckle down and work, but it should be a good day: progress on projects during the day (which I desperately need), then a pre-semester SASSE meeting with my co-president Brianna (confusing, I know), then bubble tea with one Mr. Eric Hart. Then probably a catch up evening with Meg-- hopefully one of our long walks around South Campus.

Ah... yay school.

bicollin@syr.edu — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 04:24:47 GMT

A more full update to come, but for right now, suffice it to say...

It's good to be back.

bicollin@syr.edu — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 17:56:52 GMT

Last night I had a dream about Seth.

In this dream, he was older. The age I am now. We met up at a bar, hugged hello, and went for a walk around our neighborhood. The sun was shining. We hadn't seen each other in a long time, because he had transferred out of Upper Dublin to a small private high school, and had gone off to a small private college. He'd cleaned up, and cleaned up well. He was dressed well-- khakis, a nice shirt-- but I could tell he would have felt more comfortable in one of his big, soft hooded sweatshirts. He smiled and laughed as we exchanged stories, and was much more talkative than I remember him being normally-- perhaps an effect of growing up. He was definitely no longer the quiet, lanky thirteen-year-old or the rebellious high-schooler. But he was still Seth.

We held hands as we walked. I could feel his skin and see his face and hear his voice so clearly. It was the most vivid dream I've had of him since the night before his funeral.

It's been almost four years since he died, and even longer since I'd spoken with him. I don't know why this dream came to me now. But when I woke up I thanked God for small gifts and little glimpses.

bicollin@syr.edu — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 02:07:46 GMT

This morning, I began the daunting task of packing for back to school. While I am very excited to get back (despite the mountain of work I have ahead of me from my London CommDesign projects as well as my Capstone project), I am a packing procrastinator. Knowing this, I decided to start early, and now most of my clothes, as well as my souvenirs from abroad, room decorations, and some art supplies, are packed.

It wasn't until I looked in my chatchke box that I began to feel something strange. This box had contained the same articles since freshman year-- the same photos, the same little notes, the same odds and ends that I would put on my shelf in my new bedroom for the past three years. Some stuff would get added, like a new card or photograph, but nothing would get taken out. Until today.

Cards, notes, and photos from an old boyfriend... photos and mementos of friends who have drifted away... just little reminders of how much my life has changed since the last time I was packing up my room to go back to school.

bicollin@syr.edu — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 05:01:47 GMT

Tonight, Jess and I went out for dinner, and then went to this ice cream place near my house called Udder Delight. We sat outside, eating our ice cream and chatting. Two high school boys passed us on the way in, and again on their way out. Halfway through the parking lot, one of them turned around and yelled, "Do you know him?" I looked at them, wondering if they had been talking to me, and asked, "Me?"

The first boy yelled out, "Dubin!" and pointed to his friend.

I looked closer, and then said, "Oh. My. God."

It was Aaron, Andrew's little brother. (Not so little anymore.) They walked back over, and I hugged Aaron, who is now as tall as me. Then he filled me in on the family: Andrew isn't in school anymore, but lives in an apartment around here and is working at Outback Steakhouse. Their older brother, Josh, lives and works in New York. Sarah and Aimee, the little sisters, are both good. Aimee, the youngest, will be in eighth grade (the age I was the last time I was at the Dubins' house) and Sarah works at the ice cream place we were reminiscing in front of. As for Aaron, he's off soon for his first international business school in Israel. He looks and sounds so much like Andrew, it's uncanny... and it's also a little poignant for me. The last time I saw Aaron, he was ten years old. And he remembered me, even after eight years.

He asked about the old group-- Evan, Kara, Matt Glick, Vivi, Greg, Billy. The sad truth is, I don't really keep up with any of them the way I should. Even Kara and I don't talk as much as we used to. I can attribute it to many things... growing up, different interests, different groups of friends, different schools, different ways of handling Seth's death. I hugged Aaron again, told him to say hey to Andrew for me. I haven't spoken to him in so long. But there is still a cord, however thin, that binds you to your old friends, I believe.

Or maybe I just want to believe that.

bicollin@syr.edu — Thu, 13 Aug 2009 03:20:23 GMT

I had a conversation with Allie today for about an hour and a half. It was the first real conversation we'd had since I dropped her off at Paddington Station back at the beginning of May. We talked about our summer internships (both less than desirable, in their own ways), missing London, getting back to school.

I now have thirteen days (well, more like twelve at this hour of the night) until I go back to Syracuse. And I'm really counting down.

After my last day at Pfizer and the following day leaving Maplewood, Chris came to visit. He came Sunday and left yesterday. We cuddled a lot, saw 500 Days of Summer, went into Philly and got some bubble tea, cuddled some more, ate cheesesteaks, and caught up. And, of course, we snuggled. And we talked a lot-- about music, art, life, family and friends, and our respective summers. He held me as I talked about how I don't think I ever really processed this summer: leaving London and coming back to my life here in America, Dad's injury and Mom's additional stress because of it, Pop-Pop's death and every emotion that came with that, and adjusting to life in Maplewood and work in New York, and everything I learned about myself from those experiences.

It's true, I never really processed any of the feelings that went along with any of those events. At least not properly. But now I'm looking at going back to school as a way to not brush it all under the rug, but at least be in a different place where I have different things to think about: being a senior in CMD which includes twelve projects and a portfolio, my honors capstone project, the Vagina Monologues, the realization of graduating and a future outside of school... all of those stressors are things I am actually looking forward to dealing with, in a weird way. I don't know if that makes any sense. I think I'm just excited to get back to school and (as I told Allie this morning) it'll be a lot like jumping into a pool: at first, the shock makes you freak out, but then gradually you get used to the temperature, and you get pretty good at swimming. I guess that's how I feel about school, and something I never felt about this summer.

Chris left last evening. I'll see him again in about two weeks. Until then, I'm just getting my sunscreen on and my floaties ready. Ready for the jump back in to Syracuse. My last jump in.

bicollin@syr.edu — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 02:57:13 GMT

This week is my last at Pfizer. My supervisor left this afternoon for a week-long conference in Switzerland, but beforehand she bought me lunch in the cafeteria and told me if I ever needed a recommendation she'd be happy to write me one. For all the craziness of this job, she was truly a great supervisor. I often (not in front of her, of course) declared my undying affection for her, and my desire to propose to her. She was cool, confident, smart as hell, and realistic about my workload. She was funny, and really interesting to listen to, and had answers to every question. Or, if she didn't know, she'd find out for you. For a presentation I have to give on Thursday to say what I learned this summer, I think my number one thing will be something about how essential good management is. Without her, I would have been totally lost.

My goodbye note to Caroline, my supervisor:

Dear Caroline,

Thank you so much for being such a great supervisor. You are really a great person to work for and work with--you are organized, helpful, and approachable. I always feel like I can come to you if I have a problem with or question about an assignment. Or if I just want to hear one of your amazing stories about chasing cows around in rural Kenya, crocodile watching on top of cliffs, how to diagnose berserk male syndrome in my alpaca, or how best to operate on a spider.

You really were a pleasure to work with, and I’m glad I get to call in for our meeting effectiveness presentation so I get to work with you one more time. Next time I’m in New York, I’ll stop by Pfizer and say hi.

Thanks for everything!
Brianna

bicollin@syr.edu — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 00:56:05 GMT

Today after work, I went shopping and bought two of Craig Thompson's graphic novels. His first one, called Goodbye, Chunky Rice and his second one, called Blankets.

Blankets I had already read. Jason introduced me to it after freshman year of college, and his copy resided with me for a long time before I finally had to give it back sometime sophomore year. It is not only the best graphic novel I've ever read, but easily one of the best books of any genre I've ever read. Craig Thompson's ability to tell both an emotionally and visually stimulating story is really, truly outstanding. And the same is true for Chunky Rice-- I bought it without knowing much about it other than it was his first graphic novel, and I read it all this evening (it's rather short, a little over a hundred pages) and teared up at several points. Definitely worth a read.

His graphic novels have gotten me simultaneously inspired for and a tad worried about my own storytelling abilities. My capstone project is this huge undertaking-- taking my writing from my semester abroad and setting it in graphic novel format. And while I am hoping to create something that other people can relate to, and hence find emotionally moving, I find myself sometimes self-conscious about how me-centric all of it is. I mean, of course it's about me-- it's my writing about my time on my semester abroad. But reading something like Chunky Rice, or especially Blankets (which is an autobiographical story), I wonder how Craig Thompson pulls it off: tells his own story while still creating something that other people can find something of themselves in.

I guess I worry that I'm being self-indulgent, on top of the more practical worry that I just won't pull this off at all, and I'll end up with something crappy that I never want to show anyone.

But my goal (and I can't believe I'm going to put this out there for the world to see) is to maybe get it published. Like for real. Or at least... send it to Craig Thompson. And say to him, "You inspire me."

That's what I should focus on. The inspiration. I'm nearly done the outline, and I'm itchy to start drawing actually... itchy to see my little world on paper.

I'm going to work on that. But in the meantime, everyone should pick up a copy of both these books and read them. And if you run across it, pick me up a copy of Carnet de Voyage. Thanks.

bicollin@syr.edu — Sun, 26 Jul 2009 14:01:09 GMT

I want to go back to school.

It hit me this morning when I woke up in my own bed (ah, being home for the weekend) after a long night's sleep (once again, aah) and looked around my room at all the things that I took home after my first semester, before going abroad: Yaffa Blocks full of books and DVDs, t-shirts, toiletries, and my decorations, and my boxes full of chatckes. Plus all the stuff I got during my travels second semester: my blankets from Greenwich and Istanbul, my mug from the Design Museum (the other members of Crisis Averted have matching mugs), that poster of London that I got in Covent Garden, my Tube shoes, and so many other little things. Soon, the place for all of this stuff will be in an apartment back up at school, with Kelsey in the next room and Meg in the apartment right next door with Amory, the girl who moved into my room when I went abroad.

Maybe part of this comes from the feeling that I haven't really had a place of my own this summer. When I got home from London, I shuffled very quickly between here, Syracuse, Maryland, Orlando, and here again. Then I was back up in Syracuse to visit Chris. After that, I was home again, but my internship started soon after and I moved to Maplewood. But days there are spent in New York City, and weekends are often spent somewhere else: going back home like this weekend, or going down the shore, or out in the city with friends. And this summer of course came after an entire semester of me trying to find a home on another continent, after leaving the first at-school living situation that I had ever really enjoyed.

So I suppose I am just excited to make a home back up at Syracuse again, surrounded by friends, in an environment in which I am familiar enough with to really feel at ease. Of course, my home up there is also temporary, in probably the most overwhelming sense as I am graduating after this year, but that is another entry for another time.

I have two more weeks of this internship, then it's back here for a couple weeks to get last-minute stuff together (y'know, like packing up my entire life), then it's back up to school. Oh Syracuse, how I miss thee. But I will see you soon!

bicollin@syr.edu — Mon, 20 Jul 2009 00:49:58 GMT

So a kind of lame week turned into quite the nice weekend, happily.

Friday after I got off work, I headed over to the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum to see their exhibit called Design for a Living World, and also just went along with a tour for their other exhibit Fashioning Felt (which is a lot cooler than it sounds, and gave me a good idea for a CMD 450 project.) Recently, thanks to the impending beginning of the school year, I've started thinking more again about design. Being in that museum and seeing all the different designers' works-- Design for a Living World paired a renowned designer with an environmentally at-risk part of the world and had them make something that works with the landscape and its people-- got me really excited all over again about design and what it can do to improve people's quality of life. I bought the exhibition catalogue for a previous exhibit entitled Design for the Other 90 Percent, and reading through it got me all inspired and fired up. I'm sure I'll write a long and involved and impassioned essay about that on here soon, but for now, onto the rest of my weekend.

Late late that night, Marissa got in. We chilled for a little but I was super-tired, so we both hit the hay. Saturday we woke up early to play with the girls before the family went on an outing for the afternoon. Marissa taught Sadie that the duty of the older sister is to nom the younger one, and demonstrated on me multiple times, much to Sadie's delight.

After the family left, Mish and I took a nap, then went to the Maplewood Community Pool, then went book shopping at the local bookstore. We headed to the Maple Leaf Diner for dinner, and I of course got my standard French toast and home fries and chocolate milk. Sadly, they had no cheesecake. But I will definitely be going back for some later. Then, the local movie theater was playing Away We Go, which I had wanted to see for a while but which no one would see with me. So she and I went and laughed our asses off. It was a great movie-- really funny, heartfelt, insightful. I highly recommend. Plus, who doesn't love some John Krasinski?

Today was a family affair. Anders' parents are in from Sweden, so in the morning we headed to Heidi's to hang out with the Fransson clan. Then Mish left, and I was a sad puppy. But there was very little time to mope, as I had to help Kristi and Phil get ready for the guests coming over for dinner: the Franssons plus Anders' parents, and Kristi's parents. Plus, of course, the children. So it was an evening of running around after kids, playing whiffle ball, helping in the kitchen, and the like. I was tired before, I'm pretty good and wiped now. But still, it was a lot of fun.

For now, I have to go get ready for bed. (Yes, I know it's not even nine p.m. Don't judge me.) Tomorrow starts my third-to-last week at Pfizer, and I've got to be bright and chipper tomorrow morning for all that data entry! Hehe.

bicollin@syr.edu — Sat, 11 Jul 2009 19:16:26 GMT

I am now officially halfway done my internship! Woot. And the next few weeks are looking steadily busy, both at work with projects and on the weekends-- tomorrow, I'm mini-golfing with Kate, then next weekend Mish might be visiting, and the weekend after that I'm going home because I am in desperate need of a haircut. Somewhere in there, I have to meet up with Brian, and possibly Danny, and hopefully see Liz again... busy busy busy.com, as we like to say in the Klinman Collins family.

Yesterday after I got off work, I spent the sunny afternoon in Central Park, then headed over to the Met, where I was joined by Kate and Jess, and Jess's friend from work Jackie, a Museum Studies grad student at SU. We went to dinner and spent a very lovely evening wandering the museum. We even went on the roof where they had this awesome installation piece. The weather was beautiful, and you could see the entirety of New York. It was really something. Anyone in the New York City area, I highly recommend a visit.

This morning I joined the Sorbello Franks at their community pool, where I hung out in the kiddie pool with the girls and helped Sadie practice her kicking (she's learning to swim). After that, Kristi and I went to Target, and I got the second season of Psych on DVD because I know Dad would not approve of me going to Target and getting only stuff I need, hehehe. Tonight, the family is going to Kristi's sister's for a party, but I'm staying home. It'll be nice to have some time to myself. My plan? Do laundry, chillax in front of the television with Psych (the second season has the one where Shawn is a guest star on a Spanish soap opera, I'm really looking forward to that one hehe), and work on my Capstone project.

For those of you who don't know, and for those of you who do care, my Capstone is going to be a graphic novel based on my semester abroad. I've been steadily working on it since returning home, more so in the last couple weeks as I've realized the sheer magnitude of the project. Right now it's looking to be slightly more than a hundred pages, which doesn't sound like much in terms of reading but will prove I'm sure to be quite a lot when I have to actually draw it, ink it, color it, letter it, format it, and publish it. So the more I can get done while I'm not concentrating on CMD and other projects and school activities the better. The script is nearly finished, I hope to get that done tonight while in the company of Shawn and Gus. I'll be updating on it pretty regularly throughout the process... I've even considered having a separate blog for it but that might just make more work for myself for no real reason. If enough people are interested in keeping up with it, maybe I will (hint: if you would be, let me know). But for right now I'm just concentrating on getting the preliminary stuff in order.

That's about it for now. Looking forward to a nice, relaxing night.

bicollin@syr.edu — Sun, 28 Jun 2009 14:44:32 GMT

It's been a log, fun, rather tiring weekend here in Maplewood, following a long, kind of amusing, but rather tiring week at work. But before I talk about all that, I did see Transformers 2 on Wednesday evening with the lovely Kate Marolf and our CMD buddy (who is also quite lovely) Jess Gaito. And it turned out to be the most ridiculous movie I've ever seen, pretty much.

Why, you ask?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:

The first scene is ancient humanity first coming in contact with ancient Autobots. Belief Suspension Numero Uno. There is a Giant Freaking Thing looming in the distance as the Autobots trample people in the foreground.

Cut to present day. Then, of course, because it’s been three minutes, there is a Gratuitous CGI Fight Sequence, Autobots vs. Decepticons.

After discovering the Autobots in the first movie, Shia Laboeuf wrongly assumes he can lead a normal life. So he plans to go to college and leaves his Autobot guardian at home. He and his girlfriend (her name is Mikaela in the movie, but I just call her Porn Star Girlfriend for obvious reasons , or PSG for short) have to be long-distance, which would concern me if they had any actual chemistry. But before he leaves, he touches a piece of the shard of whatever the hell exploded in the first movie, which make visions and weird symbols appear in his head while he’s off at Hottest People Ever University, where Rainn Wilson is his Astronomy 101 professor because of a terrible lapse in judgement and Shia’s Mom discovers pot brownies. One of those Hottest People Ever turns out to be a Decepticon in disguise-- because apparently now Decepticons can morph into convincing human figures and not just robotic-looking cars and animals-- and tries to seduce/kill Shia. Luckily PSG runs in at the last minute after flying across the country and somehow saves his ass.

Meanwhile, the National Security Advisor, who everyone in the Army seems to despise, orders the Autobots to leave Earth, as there has been a rash of attacks from the Decepticons, who it turns out are looking for Piece of Some Thing That Exploded Last Movie that is now being kept at Secret Army Base. The Decepticons, lead by the Evilest of All Decepticons who can only be killed by a Prime (*coughimportantplotpointcough*) infiltrate Army satellites and find the Secret Army Base to steal the Thing in a sequence of gratuitous CGI robotics. Optimus Prime, sensing that something shitty is about to happen, goes to Shia to see if he’ll help, but Shia refuses on account of his desperation to be normal. Optimus Prime is disappointed. This is of course before he gets attacked by Slutty Decepticon and runs away from Hottest People Ever U with PSG and Random Roommate.

The Autobots travel cross-country to save Shia from the Decepticons, and there is a Giant Fucking Battle in the forest. Optimus Prime sacrifices himself to save Shia, who of course now is filled with a sense of responsibility. He, PSG, and RR run away while Decepticons attack all major cities, but no one in those major cities seems to notice because, after all, who in stock footage would notice computer-generated monsters added in post-production? In an effort to read the symbols that are in Shia’s head, they find Some Guy From the First Movie (who I know as Monk’s brother from that one episode of Monk a while ago) who turns out to be an Ex-Government Employee, fired for—what else—being obsessed with the Autobots and their origin. Together, they discover that early cars and planes (like Ford Model Ts and World War II airplanes) are actually ancient Autobots in disguise and humans just never figured it out. So, they head on over to the Smithsonian Air and Space Musuem, and unleash an old-timey fighter plane who turns out to be a Decepticon turned good. He tells them about Giant Freaking Thing from the first scene, and how the Decepticons want to use it to blow up the sun so they can get its energy but can’t because the ancient Primes buried its activating agent, the Matrixy Thing, in their tomb with them.

The mission? Find the Tomb of the Primes, Find the Matrixy Thing, then get to the Giant Freaking Thing (which we now as the Giant Freaking Sun Exploder) before the Decepticons do in order to save the human race. Oh, and resurrect Optimus Prime, because apparently the Matrixy Thing can bring Autobots back to life. Where is it, you ask?

In the pyramids. That’s right. Apparently, archaeologists for decades have missed the Giant Freaking Sun Exploder hidden inside one of the Great Pyramids. Who knew?

So the group of them somehow travels to Jordan, where Incompetent Border Control just lets them in with a cadre of cars that drive themselves magically. They bust open an ancient building, because they have no regard for preserving artifacts, and discover the Tomb of the Primes. Unfortunately, thousands of years of sitting inside this tomb has made Matrixy Thing disintegrate as soon as it is touched. Not to worry though!— Shia stuffs the bits of it into his sock. They continue on to the pyramids, hoping to get there before the Decepticons. Ex-Government Agent has convinced the Army unit in charge of the Autobots, led by Tad Hamilton and Tyrese Gibson, to come to Jordan to help fight the Decepticons and bring Optimus Prime back to life. So now we’ve got Shia and his buddies, the Army, and the Autobots against the Decepticons. (Oh yeah, Shia’s parents are there, too—the Decepticons captured them for no reason and brought them to Jordan. Very considerate.) Commence Dizzying Desert Battle Sequence.

In a headache-inducing scene of explosions, computer-generated morphing metal, and unnecessary civilian casualties (yeah, they totally invaded a small Jordanian village), the Decepticons gain the upper hand and one of them starts climbing up one of the Great Pyramids and ripping it apart (once again, no respect for the relics!) to reveal Big Freaking Sun Exploder, which, I would just like to reiterate, I’m pretty sure archaeologists would have noticed. So, in an effort to try and stop them, Shia makes a break for Optimus Prime’s metal carcass, but is blasted to the ground by a Decepticon. He is Clinically Dead for about five minutes. All hope seems lost, until you remember that the movie isn’t over yet, and they’ll probably make a third one too, so they need their hero around.

Tad Hamilton won’t let his poor parents come near him, but for some reason it’s okay for Porn Star Girlfriend—who’s been earning her title by running through the desert in slow motion wearing a tank top and white jeans—to run up to him, press herself against him, and make a very poorly-acted confession of love. While she’s trying to revive him with her hotness, Shia’s spirit visits Prime Heaven, where the ancient Primes who have sacrificed themselves applaud him for being so selfless (even though this whole freaking thing happened because he insisted on separating himself from the Autobots and having a normal life) and tell him to return to Earth. So Shia is immediately revived and a hundred percent okay. He finally tells PSG he loves her, then gets up and runs to Optimus Prime, and jams the magically-now-congealed Matrixy Thing into Optimus Prime’s body.

Optimus Prime is resurrected and commences to kick ass in the Climactic Battle Sequence, thanks in part to the Old-Timey ex-Decepticon airplane from the Smithsonian, who gets killed in battle and asks Optimus to absorb his parts, so that Optimus Prime becomes Optimus Even More Prime. He destroys the Evilest of All Decepticons, and the world is safe once more. Everyone is transported back home via aircraft carrier, and Shia and Optimus Prime share a dude moment on the deck as they watch the sun set over the Red Sea.

Meanwhile, at the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum, curators are wondering where the hell their World War II era fighter jet went, and why there’s a giant effing hole in the wall.

Then Optimus Prime gives an Epic Voiceover about the shared future of humans and Autobots, setting the stage for Transformers 3: Rise of the Hybrids.

When they return to land, Shia Laboeuf is sent to counseling for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, as he is unable to look at a car without his heart temporarily stopping.

This entry is cut for length, but also for spoilers... if you intend on seeing the movie and are genuinely excited about it, you may want to skip this. That being said, I did not make any part of this up except my own commentary (which everyone who knows me will be able to parse out). Though... I kind of wish I was kidding, honestly.

Also, another disclaimer: no I did not all of a sudden start listening to Linkin Park. It's a song from the movie. I wanted to get myself in the mood, haha.

bicollin@syr.edu — Thu, 18 Jun 2009 01:31:21 GMT

Okay, okay, so I know I said I'd share the details of my first day at Pfizer, but I am totally tired (loooong day), so I thought I'd postpone the frealsies update and offer you tonight instead some snippets of text message conversations Chris and I had today, which shall give you insight into my workday. (Please keep in mind the following things while reading: our love for old Office episodes, and the fact that I do not yet have a computer on which to work so I am essentially doing nothing until I get one and therefore am totally bored.) Enjoy!

Me: I still have nothing to do and my boss is out till ten, so I think I'm going to grab some breakfast and start writing my memoirs. Haha.
Chris: Welcome to corporate America.

Me: I am reading about why business meetings are bad. I already know why: because they're business meetings!
Chris: Haha... I've said it before, there's a reason why we're artists... The Office isn't fiction, it's satire.
Me: Seriously. Now I know why my dad loves Dilbert cartoons. If I ever have my own design shop, I'm running things differently.
Chris: Dilbert is hilarious.
Me: If I ever have my own business one day, my number one rule will be: come to work comfy. Because I have blister from these lame work shoes.
Chris: That's because you're a communist.

Me: "In a moment of revelation, imagine yourself ripping off your clothes, standing on the largest rock on top of the highest hilltop and shouting, 'meetings are worthless!'" (I just read that in this book. Really.)
Chris: *Jim Halpert face*

Me: I have a team meeting at one.
(At about one p.m.) Chris: Go team!

Chris: Good luck at your meeting.
Me: My boss just came in to tell me that our meeting is at two. She told me before it was at one. I skipped lunch with my intern buddies for a nonexistent meeting.
Chris: *Jim Halpert face?*
Me: Jim. Halpert. Face.

Chris: At least you don't have a Dwight.
Me: No... but putting someone's stuff in Jell-O would give me something to do.
Chris: Just put everything in a vending machine.

Me: I just spent two hours in a meeting where I did not understand one word.
Chris: You were supposed to go to the meeting in English, not in Spanish...
Me: Yo soy confused about what I'm doing in a department specializing on drug development for horses.
Chris: What?!? I'm confused and I've just been watching Newsradio all day.
Me: Well you've been missing out. I spent the day reading about how useless meetings are, then proceeded to attend a useless meeting. Time well spent.

Me: I'm listening to Indigo Girls. It's been that kind of day.
Chris: Are you trying to tell me you've been in NYC for two days and already you're a lesbian? I thought it would have at least taken a week. This might be awkward for you but... I'm a dude.
Me: Eh. I'm in NYC now. I've got other options...

bicollin@syr.edu — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 02:21:12 GMT

I do have first-day-of-internship stories, but this entry I wrote yesterday when my Internet wasn't set up yet here in Maplewood and I want to share it now before moving on to other stuff. So here it is-- the big funeral, and the big move:

Yesterday was Pop-Pop's funeral. Family, friends, and neighbors gathered to say goodbye to him in Philadelphia's largest Jewish cemetery. A World War II veteran, he was buried coincidentally enough on Flag Day. I wore his combat wings, which Mom-Mom appreciated very much. Dad didn't go, on account of his gimpiness, but Marissa, Mom, and I were the first to arrive. (Mom gave us a little tour of the family plot, which was already almost filled to capacity by distant family members on Pop-Pop's side.) But soon, others arrived-- Dennis with two of his three kids and his wife, Barbara (Heidi and Phil didn't attend), cousins of my mother, old family friends, and of course my grandmother-- and the service began. Mom eulogized her father, a man from hard-scrabble beginnings who worked hard to provide for his family, who "single-handedly defeated the Luftwafte," and who lived a long life with no regrets. It was filled with the kind of humor and honesty befitting Pop-Pop: Marissa noted that if this had been someone else's funeral and he had been in attendance, he would have been cracking jokes. I held it together for most of the proceedings, tearing up once during Mom's speech. But what really got me was after the casket had been lowered into the ground and family members were invited to cover it with dirt. Mom-Mom went first, and, as she took the first bit of dirt into the shovel, she said to her husband, "Betsy will take care of you now." (Betsy was his twin sister, a scrappy tom-boy who spent their childhood beating up anyone who gave her twin brother a hard time. She died a couple years ago, and Pop-Pop had really felt her loss.)

After the funeral, the mourners gathered back at Mom-Mom's house for deli and reminiscing. As the crowd died down and there were only enough people left for a makeshift minion, Dennis had the idea of going around and sharing memories of Pop-Pop that he and his sisters had from childhood. Every story-- trips to the park or to the movies, or nights at home rough-housing, or scaring away my aunt's boyfriends-- was filled with the same twisted Klinman-esque love and humor that I've grown to know and (mostly) love. Marissa and I did a rendition of "The Best of Pop-Pop," in which Marissa and I took turns doing impressions of Pop-Pop's sage advice and thoughts on his family, especially his wife. Everyone was laughing, except for Mom-Mom, of course, who never laughs. At the end of everyone's speeches, Mom-Mom simply said seriously, "Well, I'm glad you have some pleasant memories." At which point, we all burst out laughing.

Since Mom had to attend to family stuff and neither Heidi nor Phil made the trip down, it was up to Marissa to drive me up to Maplewood. We started the drive around six and got in around eight, spent the night making tired conversation, went to bed in what is now my room, and woke up very early to Sadie's excited chatter about triceratopses. With Phil and Kristi working and the two kids off at school (err, preschool and daycare for Sadie and Emily, respectively) Mish and I went to visit Maggie, who moved (with Heidi and Anders, of course) down the way from the Sorbello Frank family back in February. She is a cute, chatty little girl who now carts around the plush Paddington Bear I got her back in London. I am happy to be able to see more of her this summer.

Mish left after lunch, around one o'clock, leaving me here to start my life for the next eight weeks. It's been a challenging start to the summer, to say the least, and the next big chunk of it will prove just as challenging, I think, but in different ways. In a way, I'm grateful for the change of scenery-- being at home all day with Dad was starting to wear on me-- but in a way, I feel bad for not being home now to help Mom out. But now that I'm here, I have come to the realization that I will slowly but surely be run ragged by a New York City commute, a corporate office job (both of which start tomorrow), waking up way too early (which has already started), adjusting to a new house, and three adorable little girls. (That last one I'm not too unhappy about, though.)

bicollin@syr.edu — Sat, 13 Jun 2009 17:40:58 GMT

Pop-Pop died this morning.

He'd been in the hospital all week after having a heart attack and congestive heart failure... next week was going to be test after test, they were going to stabilize him, treat him any way they could, and send him home again. While in the hospital he had good days and bad days. Yesterday was a good day. I talked to him on the phone for a few minutes. I guess he just had one last good day and decided enough was enough. I don't blame him-- I wouldn't want to be stuck in the hospital, uncomfortable, then sent home, always afraid something could happen again. So, he went to sleep last night, had two heart attacks in his sleep, and died.

I saw him a month ago for Mother's Day. He was happy, making jokes, eating well, still mentally all there. He always said he lived a good life and had no regrets, and when the Good Lord decided to take him, he'd be ready.

He said something last Thanksgiving, when we were sitting around in my aunt's living room. He said to my mother that he knew her girls. Me and Marissa. And that made him happy. Well, Pop-Pop, I'm proud to have known you, and I hope I made you proud too. I will miss you very much, but I am happy to have had you for twenty-one good years.