EMILIO!!!!!!

So, because Katie finally received this, her birthday present, in the mail, I feel compelled to share with you, the rest of my readers, the fruits of my labor, of which I am rather proud:

Yes, this is an inside joke, and not even one I share with Katie. Rather, bedazzled portraits of Emilio Estevez, in profile, circa various of his cinematic masterpieces, make frequent (and attractive!) appearances on the clothing of characters in Katie's and her sisters' novels.

I must say, I am rather proud of how this turned out.

What did you do on Halloween?

This particular incident really stuck with me apparently, because part of me still expects every mannequin and Halloween decoration to come to life just out of the corner of my eye. Also, I'm pretty sure I meant "It was only water"--"it" being the witches broo. I was not "only water with steam rising out of it", but rather I went as a harem dancer, which is really inappropriate when you think about it for like, a second. However, I had just discovered belly dancing and didn't know the difference. 

What did you do for Halloween?

I went to the door of the haunted house...

How-To

What are you afraid of?

10/6/95

I’m afraid of…

The dark scares me. I’m afraid of monsters and strangers to grab me and take me away. I’m scared to be alone outside at night. I’m afraid to be alone because I think someone will take me.

It's no trick...

...my Halloween treat to you, dear readers, is a batch of freshly-baked blog posts, courtesy of my 2nd grade self (and maybe a little from my 22-year-old self). More spooky stories to come--keep checking back tomorrow!

Tales from the Crypt

And by "crypt" I mean my 2nd grade journal.

10/5/95

Once I dreamed...

Once I dreamed it was holloween. I was a black cat. I was trick or treating and I saw a wich riding on her broom stick. I saw a skeliton and it was dangling from a tree. I heard a wolf howl.

Pumpkins suck!

But vampire bats don't. True fact. Look it up.

Impressive Feet

This is just about the easiest kind of joke.

Also, Tessa, I think we were talking about J.K. Rowling.

Catastrophe

Farewell dear, sweet computer. You will be missed. 

Let's just say it's a really good thing I love my cat so damn much.

Maritime Morsels

Trader Joe's really knows how to appeal to my snacking sensibilities.

Mulan makes everything better

No really. I would even go so far as to say that it is better than "Eye of the Tiger" as far as training montage songs go. This song got me through the worst hikes in the Honduran jungle; apparently it was the soundtrack to my sister's college application process. And it helped me and my mom set up at our two shows on the road. Thanks, Donny Osmond and Co.!

For your viewing pleasure:

*Also, Mom I apologize in advance for whatever complaints you will have about how I drew you (they always complain). I just can't draw that well, is all.

*Also, also: this is the last of the show-related comics. Next up: ALL NEW TOP SECRET PROJECT!!!!! (maybe).

The Huntin'est

Fact. 

Close encounters of the Hells Angels kind

This happened (and far too early in the morning for my poor overworked brain to process things like shirtless bikers doing sun salutations on the stairs outside our motel). Please note the vest sunburn. It is very important.

Blending In

I was not very successful in this venture.

I'm back! Just like those dinosaurs in that movie, "Jurassic Park." I told you not to give up on this blog just yet. There are to follow several doodles from my time on the road with my mother. Honestly, there's much more comic material than I have time to illustrate, so for now, this will have to do.

Three weeks ago, my mom and I left for Idaho, where she had an art show in Sun Valley. We drove from LA through the not-quite-a-ghost-town Ely, Nevada, and onward to the potato state, then to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. We drove through many a scenic route, past field after golden field, over rivers and through woods, in the shadows of mountains. I took a lot of pictures. Here are some:

We somehow ended up in Montreal.

Mommy and me. And crow.

The booth.

This crazy house we delivered to. It was three barns, imported from the East Coast and converted into one giant super-barn. Apparently, that's something you can do.

Me in a lava field.

The sun sets on Jackson Hole, Wyoming.

On the way to Yellostone.

Yellowstone.

Fat.

A bison! I also saw a moose but I didn't get a picture of it.

A bug!

Close up!

Ol' Faithful.

Jackson Hole uses antlers in all of its decorating.

Hey!

A rainbow....sorta.

Dinosaurs fo' real.

Biker chick.

I must say, Jackson Hole was not my favorite place ever. A vegetarian like me just didn't stand a chance. But overall I had a great time--my mom and I make a great team. And we pretty much rocked the setup and takedown of her booth, even in the midst of a windstorm, during the takedown at the end of the Jackson show. It was a lot like that scene in "The Little Mermaid" with the storm when Eric gets tossed from the ship, what with the yelling orders and the sails--er, uh tent sides--flapping about. Fun times were had by all. I do love a good road trip.

*Note: bait-and-switch courtesy of Tessa.

Backpack ATTACK!!!!

Tiny orca backpack. Yes, I will wear this in public.

*

Sorry if I got your hopes up that this was a legit update. It's not, really, but I had to share the joy that is this fantastic purchase (made just that much sweeter by the fact that the actual price was $19 but I got it for $9 because the price tag was wrong, and apparently, GAP has to honor the tag). 

So by now, probably everyone has stopped actually reading this blog, but I do promise, something is in fact in the oven and will hopefully be out soon. I am not dead, nor did I meet some taciturn and yet surprisingly soulful cowboy in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, choosing never to come home. I am back in LA, doing mostly nothing. 

Soon, my faithful readers (all two of you.) Soon.

Parental Guidance Suggested

True Blood is such a great show you guys.

No Competition

My sister doesn't kid about frozen yogurt.

A pretty great sticker

I found it in a box of Botan Rice Candy, which is delicious, in case you were wondering.

Look what my mom got me!

My very own snapping turtle skull!

Thursday Night at the Bowl

Hi readers! I'm back, and while I won't say I'm better than ever--since that would imply I've done something of value in the past three or so weeks since I last posted--I'm doing alright. In case you were worried, I haven't completely fallen off the face of the planet or been abducted by aliens or been holed up in my parents' basement in my underwear watching all six seasons of "Lost" (silly--I don't even have a basement!) 

Post-collegiate life is weird, since for all intents and purposes, right now feels like any other summer, except instead of the promise of school, friends, a different city, and a much-beloved apartment to return to, all I can see is the rest of my life stretching out in front of me in all its inscrutable, maddening uncertainty. 

What have I been doing, you may wonder? There's no easy way to answer that, because while I'm always busy and never bored, it doesn't sound like a whole lot when I list it out. It's not as easy as saying, "I have a job" (which I don't) or "I'm traveling" (which I did already) or "I'm writing a novel" (which I should have done--sorry Katie). But trust me, I am by no means sitting around twiddling my thumbs. 

Oh, but here's something I did do: last night I drove my grandparents, my sister, and my sister's boyfriend to the Hollywood Bowl. Being both of them in recovery from various medical procedures, my grandparents needed a chauffeur to a Hollywood Bowl* concert they had tickets to, and I was happy to oblige. Diana, Spencer and I bought the $8 tickets and stuck around for the show. While it was still light outside, I watched a couple bats swoop and dive to the music (which was really entertaining--I like to think they were purposely groovin' along with the beat), and drew the doodle you see below. It was altogether much more socially acceptable than that time I pulled out my sketchbook at a hockey game.

Diana and Spencer were huddled like this basically the whole time--poor planning on their part, since contrary to popular belief, L.A. can still get pretty damn cold when it feels like it.

*For those of you unfamiliar with the Hollywood Bowl, it's an outdoor concert venue in, as you can probably guess, Hollywood. It looks something like how I've drawn it above, but more like this.

S'more

Hello again, my fair friends,
I have returned to the City of Angels, as planned, and have once more settled into my summer routine: Cardio Barre with my sister, frozen yogurt, and, of course, projects. While I have decided to forgo Novel Writing Month, much to my dear friend Katelyn's chagrin, I am nonetheless busy with things that went undone the past three weeks I was away.


I have a few more photos from our last (half) day in London. After packing, and checking out, we went to breakfast. After, with some time to spare before leaving for the airport, we returned once again to Waterlow Park. 


We so greatly enjoyed our travels, and again, I appreciated every one of you who followed along in our adventures. 


Always,
A

Diana relaxing in the shade.

On thin ice.

Room 224, in case you were wondering.

Oh.....

So apparently Highgate Cemetery, near where we were staying our last few days in London, is the final resting place of Karl Marx! And suddenly, the Karl Marx Tea Party at the local pub makes so much more sense.....

Day the Twenty-First

Sunday the Twenty-Seventh of June, Two Thousand Ten


My dearest and most ever so faithful readers,
It is the final day! Tonight will be our last night in Furnival House, the University of Westminster dormitories, as well as our last night in London, and, indeed, all of England proper. By tomorrow night (in Los Angeles, for it will be mid-night in England) we will be home, flying backwards in time, as we shall have done.


We decided to have a bit of a lie-in this morning ("a lion?" Diana asked me the other day, confused by the British turn of phrase), and awoke to the sun beating through our windows and turning our adjoining rooms into downright furnaces. Once we had completed our respective toilettes, we set off in the direction of Hampstead Heath, a large, wild garden with a supposedly superb view of the city of London. We never, however, made it that far. We took first a pleasant stroll through Waterlow Park near our lodgings with the intention of emerging out in the direction of the Heath. However, where the Heath was, I could not figure out, for none of my maps went so far as to include it. Ah, well. After much wandering aimlessly about, hot and tired we found a Tube station and set off instead for frozen yoghurt. One brief repast later, we made our way to Trafalgar Square to peruse the National Gallery. While there were many impressive works therein, there were also far too many ugly baby Jesuses and preposterous-looking dogs for my taste. I felt moved, though, seeing the Van Goghs in person.


Once we had developed a serious case of Malade de Musée (more commonly known as "Museum Legs"), my sister and I left the cooler confines of the galleries for the hotter steps outside. There, a young man engaged us in conversation with an unlikely opening line along the lines of "What's the deal with all these Squares? Is Leicester Square even square?" I believe he really meant Trafalgar, but it worked nonetheless: we talked to him. His name was Kit and he should well have known the difference between the two, for he was a born and raised London man. What he was doing strolling past the National Gallery, a location swarming with tourists, is beyond me, though it is not, I suppose, a bad plan for meeting young defenceless foreign ladies. He was quite nice, and we discussed his upcoming adventures in South America and what we thought of England, before he had to leave.


From Trafalgar Square, we then walked northwards to Picadilly Circus, then onward to SoHo and Oxford Street. It being a Sunday afternoon, and the weather being so glorious, the streets were seething with people, making brisk walking nearly impossible. We ducked onto a side street, where we discovered a dimly lit Thai restaurant with open windows facing the street where we ended up eating dinner--our last dinner in England. Across the street was a famous bakery called The Hummingbird Bakery, which we had glimpsed earlier. We decided that pudding today would be cupcakes. And while I would choose pie over cake any day, these cupcakes might have made me reconsider. I said "might.


We opted from there to take the bus back to Archway rather than the Tube--in this way, we would get one last city tour, perhaps see places we hadn't yet seen. And so we did. Back at the dorms, my sister and I watched another two episodes of the programme "Chuck," before it was time for us to retire.


Much traveling will be done tomorrow. I am not so much looking forward to that, though, as I am to seeing my parents, and settling back into normalcy, some kind of routine. This trip has been simply marvelous. It was a wonderful opportunity to get to know my younger sister better; we got along! (Mostly.) And I have finally been to England. Not since I was three years of age was I here: it was about time.


Thank you all for reading and those that commented, either on this blog or through various other media, I thank you for your feedback and your compliments. It was hard work keeping you all up to date on our various adventures, but it seemed the best way to remember all those stories likely to have been forgotten or muddled up upon our return. Your readership means a great deal to me.


Ever yours,
Angela

"Now, can you read the bottom row for me?"

At the National Gallery