Spent last night throwing up, all night. Awesome. Nice to see that Wendy's again.


Went to Kelly's with Mary. So important. We're actually both very shy. Believe it or not.

Choice Mary quotes:
- "Anyway, we're young."
- "So. How's the sex?" (After I showed her a .gif of Scooby-Do fucking Thelma from behind, which was sent to me via text message.)

She paid for me for my birthday, which was so kind.


---

"I've never worked retail," I said to Chelsea.
"Well, have you ever been fucked in the ass?"

Bizarre night.

- Walk through the madness of a head on collision at Penn and Main, 10 minutes after it happened. People from the Brillobox and people who lived at the intersection were out on the sidewalks. EMTs helping injured people. Police cars and ambulances. Crying people. Dogs running around.
- Make it to the Thunderbird. I get a lot of comments for using my passport for ID here. This time: "Wow, you must be important."
- Watched a good show with R, and afterwards was given a 10$ gift certificate. I know the people who know people who know people.
- Met someone from the internet and totally blushed at how nerdy I was being.
- Went to a recording studio around 2 am. I've spent a lot of time in recording studios in Texas - the people are always nice, but it's boring as hell. This was no different, but it was so fucking comical. Like what you'd see in a stereotypical movie. Can't get into it too much. "I'll take you home real soon, after I finish this and eat a bag of chips." I knew then it would be another hour at least.



Waking up painfully early. Wiggly boy.
Oh yeah, remember Monty's dog, Wiggly-Dog?

This is life, and everything's alright.

I had something good to say, I think, but I forgot it.

Audrey and I were walking for a lunch break, and a group of high school boys on a cross country team ran past us. I gave them high fives as they passed.

--

Before that, sitting outside, Pat walked by and said, "Oh, Audrey, you're not smoking are you?" (She wasn't.)

I made a face and yelled something rude back.
A grad student was walking by and saw the whole thing and laughed.

--

I think I am going to go crazy over the next few weeks. Until April 10th, for sure. Naturally the soundtrack for creative-but-insane is Daniel Johnston.

Oh, this is life.
This is life, and everything's alright.
Livin' livin' livin' livin' life.

Oh, hope for the hopeless,
I'm learning to cope with the emotionless mediocrity of day to day living.

Oh, I can't help but be restless when everything's so tasteless,
and all the colors seem to have faded away.

Hold me like a mother would...

Pretty perfect.




---

HOLY SHIT, CREEPY GUY EW just called me! It's been five months! Gross. You'd think he'd get the message after I ignored his calls/hung up on him for months in a row. Man. Tenacity!

Ran into my old teacher/boss in the hallway. He heard about some crit I had, and told me this:

"One of the most important things a professor can give to his students sometimes is permission. So I am saying to you: you have permission.

If they're telling you it looks commercial - screw them. You have permission.

If you have to call it 'illustrative' - screw them. You have permission.

You also have permission to be entrepreneurial. It doesn't mean that it can't be better, or have more of an edge, or whatever. It's not permission to make crap. But you have permission."



It was nice.

I am excited to go to the doctor today and get all tested and find out if I am anemic or not (although I'm willing to bet yes - my diet is horrible). With the amount of vitamins I rarely ingest/the amount of toxins I regularly ingest I am surprised I can even get out of bed.

Books: http://stores.lulu.com/taylorshields

Ran into an old flame at school today. Parting ways he tried to do the awkward shoulder-punch, but swung past my arm.

"You missed me," I said.
"You wish."

Damn!

--

We don't have any milk at home, so I've been using ice cream for creamer (ice creamer). Jack and Mike used to do this all the time; it didn't seem strange to me, but Randy and Jen were making fun. "This is normal."

"Yeah for fat people!"

--

I can't make anything, and I'm feeling dumb.

BOOKS ARE DONE

225 color pages
Hardcover and paper back available.
The prints look reeeeeally great. I kept the books as cheap as possible; I am one small step above giving them away.
Buy 'em here.

Drinking a forty in studio. I've resolved to not worry anymore. School beats me down, but it's so close to being over, all I can do is laugh.

Genius!
Then we could be dancing -
And you'd smile and say, "I like this song"
And when our eyes will meet there we will recognize nothing's wrong.
And I wouldn't feel so selfish.
I won't be this way very long.



Cheers.

"My stubbornness, petulance, lack of obligation toward the happiness of others, aversion to personal shame, and reluctance to admit that I'm ever wrong are my my biggest flaws." - Tracie Egan

I hear ya, girl.

---

I was dropped off at Audrey's house - Mary and Tyler were there, waiting on the porch since Audrey wasn't home yet. We huddled in the little doorway:

"I brought wine, Audrey told me to get three bottles."
"...we brought two."

So I should've known things would get shitty. Rolled into the Rock Room late for the show, and didn't have to pay. So many people I knew were there, and most of them I was not prepared to see. Knowing a large percentage of people in the room, getting things for free, inappropriate outfits, boozing. None of these things are helping my Lindsay Lohan complex.

---

Tyler analyzed my two different styles of pant cuffs to help me decide which to wear:

"Well, this side is more bike rider. The other side is more bohemian...waking up in the morning and drinking your half finished beer from the night before."
"Oh, I want that one."

Wwss?

The orange glow of a stranger's living room. (talking about art and fish and ponds after pizza at audrey's)

Randy and I walked to punk night at Kelly's - the DJ not only played my request ("Search and Destroy") but was very kind about it. Probably because he hadn't 'gone pro' yet.

On the walk home, Friendship was shut down - police cars with flashing lights everywhere, blocking all the roads. Policemen in the streets. Civilians being held as eyewitnesses ("Two witnesses," Randy said. "Someone got shot or there's a drug bust. Two witnesses?!"). Naturally, being the nebby neighbors we are, we decided to walk through the madness of the police cars and lights and cops because we wanted to know what was happening.

I kicked over one of those evidence marker things - I didn't even see that the ground was covered with them until I heard the plink-plink-plink of it bouncing down the sidewalk.

The cop was not pleased.

"WHAT. THE FUCK. ARE YOU DOING. GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING! CHRIST!!!! I MEAN, GOD!!!!! THESE PEOPLE!!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't see it."

"RAHARAWRGAAAAHHHDAGO AROUND!"


My scrappier side wanted to play back, argue my case (I'm smiling thinking about it now). But I'm young and foolish, with a cleared criminal record. Randy was silent and grabbed my hand and lead me back down the street, on the long way home.

"That cop was drunker than we are."

-----

Holy. Shit.
The version of "I Break Horses" that's on Accumulation: None is MINDBLOWING.
I don't know how it has escaped me for this long, but it is one of Bill Callahan's more rocking moments. Some people have Yeats or Whitman or Goethe and they wax on and on about their canons. I have Callahan. How can you say no to this man?

---









I'm a street walkin' cheetah with a heart full of napalm.

Three conversations

"You're a big nerd who writes about her life on the internet so other people can read it," said Audrey.

Yup.

---

Lisa:
"Its like, you can hate yourself for drawing whats in front of you.
You can hate yourself for what it is in front of you.
Or you can hate yourself for not drawing a goddam thing."

---

"I want to be precocious forever."
"Precocious can just transition into sage, with a brief and refreshing stint of APPROPRIATE. It's respectable."









I made a conscious choice to change my attitude and remember how fun this all is. Or, how fun this all should be. For the first time in a long time I missed Texas - Matt and I were putting our heads together last night and I think I may fly down there at some point to collaborate. We work well together.

Nice jerks - my favorite kind of people. They smile, but they have pointy teeth. You know what I mean.

yeah that would be cool, mental health rules. whenspringtimecomeswe'llkeepthepillsoutofit. i only smoked three cigarettes today, too. i'm trying to quit. woooo

a prof had some of us over last night to drink wine with this museum director we met in alabama, from selma, and when i left she told me "don't forget keith, people love you." i laughed and said "thanks kind of," after thinking on it for a second. she told me not to laugh. don't forget tay, people love you.

keith



We'll make it. "Live it up," Brian said. "This is your last time in school for a long time, maybe forever."

Every terrible thing is a relief.
Even months on end buried in grief
are easy, light times
which have to end
with the coming
of your death friend.

'Cause life is long, and it's tremendous
and we're glad that you're here with us.
and since we know an end will come,
it makes our living fun.

Three items in my purse at the moment:
- a wrench
- a gifted pregnancy test
- my passport


I am prepared for any situation.

Never working, always playing.

It's how it should be, though.

---

I woke up in the middle of the night to my downstairs neighbors having wailing, screaming sex (happy Valentine's Day, y'all). "Well, I think it was good for her," Randy said.

Audrey, Jen, Mary, and I looked through our old facebook pictures from freshman year. It was a mutual conclusion that we are all much better looking now. Then, I went to a punk show with Randy. I was the only person not dressed in all black and I was calculating how many JCrew items were on my person (three - coat, wallet, cashmere cardigan). I'm over-emphasizing for humor, but I did feel weird for having clean, brushed hair for the first time in my life. I want to dress like a secretary all the time, remember?

"Jen told me not to dress cute," I said.
"Yeah... I was going to tell you to dress down, but I didn't want to insult you."


We drank Keystone Lights, going-to-the-frats-at-age-18 style. I didn't even know their was such a thing as Keystone Premium until last night. It blew my mind a little. And I don't dislike moshing, I dislike getting knocked to the ground and/or spilling beer on myself (somebody paid for that Keystone Premium, after all). "Careful, man, there's a beverage here!"



I really wanted to find the clip of Andy Roddick climbing into the stands to kiss Mandy Moore after he wins the US Open (it is Valentine's Day, after all) but the closest I could find was this:

Still cute. I like Valentine's because I like telling my friends and my parents they're special to me.

- I painted my fingernails black for Valentine's Day, even though I have a Valentine that I'm excited about. We're jerks who bring out the nice sides of each other. It's sweet, actually.
- I just want to dress like a secretary all the time. I would say sexy secretary, but it conjures images of pinstriped minis (with pleats).
- Making another book. That's the plan, at least. I spent $130 dollars the other day ordering test prints of the first book (hardcover and softcover). Available for purchase soon. Like, for real: SOON.
- "Everyone disgusts me, pretty much," I wrote in my sketchbook during a critique the other day. Cue GG Allin's 'Don't Talk To Me.'
- Mary was talking on the phone to her old beau Bradley, maybe you've seen him on Project Runway. "Sorry I didn't call you back," he said, "I was in a meeting with Ralph Lauren."
- Watching Mary's cheerleading competition from her Senior year of high school... before their routine started, the home video camera was zoomed in on the girls backstage. "We're praying! WE'RE PRAYING!!" she yelled.



OH ISN'T IT ALL SO GRAND.

The past three days I have spent an enormous amount of time at school, packing an extra shirt, PB and J sandwich, blanket, toothbrush, and mascara with me (all you need). Sleeping in studio. And in that time at school almost all the conversation centered around how indie art is illegitimate, how lame it is to attempt to be cool and ironic, how I should stop trying to be trendy. blah blah blah blah blah.

Stomped home with heavy feet, completely defeated. Laid on my bed in the dark - Jen came in and pulled off my boots. We talked about what was bothering me and I cried.

I'm not self deprecating because I'm trying to be cool. I'm trying to be honest in an attempt to gain some sort of acceptance and connect with others in a genuine way. I am secure enough in what I make and what I want to do. But having to listen to shortsighted peers who don't even understand what "cool" is lecture me - I find this especially insulting. If you use the words "hip cafe", don't even start to accuse me of being a hipster. If you only draw the most boring, generic anime, don't talk to me about copping a cultural movement's style. It's like my mom trying to tell me what's "right now."




The sunrise is just over that hill,
the worst is over.

---

My new policy is to attend every event I am invited to on Facebook.
Tomorrow I'm...
- listening to a radio show
- going to a gallery opening in Pittsburgh
- seeing my friends play a show in Austin
- attending a birthday in St. Louis
- showing my face at a surprise party in Pittsburgh for two boys I have never met, and probably wouldn't like even if I did.


You're only ever as busy as you say you are. "Everyday is a business day when you're popular," Tom has said.

Point one:
Rough critique today. Everyone was talking about how my work was "super hip" and "trendy" and "commercial."

"What would Urban Outfitters do?" was an actual sentence spoken.

Well, when I sell my "ironic" designs to Urban Outfitters and make some money off my art, you can all suck my dick.

Apparently it's bad if people want to own your work in some capacity. Sorry guys.

(I breathed a sigh of relief when Alicia said, "It's not an 'ironic' toothbrush. It's just a toothbrush.")


Point two:
Excerpt from a loooong email from my G.A. today -






ALRIGHT AWESOME.

I made some Valentine's Day cards.

Print 'em, fold 'em, give 'em away.





They should be 4" x 4" when folded in half.

I've been dating someone older than me by more than a few years; the age difference isn't worth mentioning except for the occasional laughs. For example, I didn't even know it was tax season because my mommy still handles my finances, while he has mastered the ins and outs of the system.

"I'm having popcorn and pie for dinner."
"What a bunch of adults yinz are."

--

Oh, a few nights ago, at Kelly's, we were having a conversation on the same side of the booth when a few booths down someone started yelling the name of the place he works, over and over, while pointing. "SPAK BROTHER! SPAK BROTHER! SPAK BROTHERRRR!!!"

He waved politely back, and through his smile and the cover of the sound system said to me, "I hate that fucking guy. I hope he chokes." Then, slightly louder so the assailant could hear his cheery tone - "Hey what's up man!"

The past 24 hours have been a sensory orgy, seriously. Pure indulgence. I have been stuffing myself with delicious food pretty much nonstop, and when I was not, I have been laying in my bed.

Pot luck last night. The theme was "Hot and Cheesy."

Jen - Spinach and artichoke dip
Audrey - Scalloped cheesy potatoes, lasagna
Randy and I - mixed berry pie, wine
Mary - Ice cream for the pie

"You're my girl, I like your style, just imagine all the time we could kill."

I'm in the midst of an intense artistic crisis, but I'm tickled about everything else. Last night Randy and I stayed after hours at Kelly's. I hadn't been to Kelly's since I was seventeen and Lisa assured me I could get served if I put on a little eyeliner (which did not turn out to be true). All the other patrons had left, and the bartenders were counting their tips out, laying bills on the table and smoking inside (not allowed, normally). They turned up the music and the three women sang Lionel Richie to each other, each one with a prop for a microphone - the masher for majitos, the tap handle for Heineken. We applauded when they finished.

I need a personal stenographer. Any takers?

How my memory works: I remember that Dan, Spencer, Jen, Tom, Randy, Jim, and I played Apples to Apples last night. Other notables:

- Jen giving Jim a hard time for not using a wine glass
- telling Spencer his hair looked nice
- telling everyone, "I'm a one round game player type of girl" (true)
- Jim telling the story of the guy that lives and records in the 600 mile cave

...and that's about it.



I know it was fun but besides that I can't give you much. This is why I am always slightly (slightly!) depressed.

---

Woke up early this morning, the sun was making my room orange. We looked beautiful in that light, a movie still.

Things that have been on our skull that sits on the coffee table since we have moved in (to memory):
- my plastic LMU free sunglasses
- a cigarette through it's teeth (later smoked by Anthony, at that first party so long ago)
- empty Marlboro Reds box in the mouth
- the blonde Marilyn wig
- bronze chicken bone placed in the mouth
- Keith's hat while it was left here
- Two red Gerber Daisies through the eyes
- JCrew fancy headband, currently

--

I wish I had a copy of the letter my best friend wrote me when we were in fifth grade about how 'Honey' was her favorite song.

And it's just like honey
When you're love comes over me
Oh baby I've got a dependency
Always strung out for another taste of your honey

Don't you see, every night and day
I can hardly wait
For another taste of honey
Honey I can't describe
How good it feels inside
Honey I can't describe
How good it feels inside

Jesus Christ.

Sure, I had to (attempt to) sleep in a freezing studio, wearing shoes and a jacket, but:

I MADE HESITANT PLANS TO SEND MY DNA TO THE MOON.




SERIOUSLY.

Oh, another Bruce note from last night: waiting for a drink at the bar, before the halftime show, the man next to me yelled out, in complete deadpan tone, "SCREEN. DOOR. SLAMS. MARY'S. DRESS. WAVES."

Hilarious!

--

I saw the sweetest moment in porn today - after all the fucking and coming-on-tits and whatnot, the man kissed the woman's hand and they laughed. Giggled, even. It was a total "hey, thanks for letting me fuck you, it's been great working with you" thing. I was taken aback by a completely real, genuine, nonscripted moment in such a fake business. Porn is so great/funny for a million reasons besides the obvious.

--

I was worthless today.

I woke up this morning next to Randy - my brow bone hurt from hitting it on the sidewalk, and his ear was cut and full of dried blood, but we survived.

Bruce madness - watching Paul and Brian and Nick scream every word and stand on chairs and dance with such conviction, like their lives depended on it. Beautiful.

Laying in bed this morning: "I can't believe you shot off fireworks inside the bar. You're such a troublemaker."

He grinned this sly little grin, looking at nothing in particular, and wiggled around a lil bit, pleased by the ruckus he caused.

"Apparently you are famous."

"I'm intrigued..."

"Or infamous. I'm not sure yet."

"I'm very intrigued."

"A few nights ago my friend Olivia introduced to this boy Gavin. Not drug dealer Gavin, but a different one. I was telling some story about you and he was listening and said, 'Taylor S?' and I was like, 'Oh, you know her!' He said, 'Uh, not really. But I know of her. Everyone knows of her.' "

"I want to be flattered but I'm sure it's probably for bad reasons."





Eeeesh. However, all press is good press, in my mind.

--

Playing Scattergories with Mike, Spencer, Jen, Amy, Josh, Dan, and Annie last night was one of the funniest things I have done in a long time. I was laughing the whole time. I was laughing about it all day today.