Katie Aschman's Walking Journal

The walking journal of Katie Aschman for Engl 151.18 Writing Studio.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Moving forwards in my professional career, I feel like writing will play a prominent part; I am an illustration major with a love of comics. However, unless I receive a major brain injury and/or personality transplant and decide to switch careers and spend hundreds of thousands of dollars, writing research papers will not help me. Information on resumes, on talking to bosses or gallery owners as someone who is submitting work, or even on storytelling, would have been much more useful. I am someone who writes for fun; I adore stories and happily call myself a writer, however, this course has made me hate writing, and I hold resentment for doing that. I will use rhetoric in my life, yes, and I will write quite a bit in the foreseeable future. But not this idiocy. 

[katieswalkingjournal]

Power

Today, I bought my first ever pantsuit. It's for extra credit; if I present my Drawing 1 final in professional business attire, I get a full letter grade's worth of extra credit, and I'm not letting that go so easily. But I have found out, I like wearing a pantsuit, with a blazer that I can move in and looks good on me, slacks that fit, a blouse that doesn't leave me feeling like I'm in a pretty straight jacket. I felt … powerful, professional, like I could walk over men in stiletto heels and crush corporate blowhards while a cute little PA brought me coffee. And I really liked it. I want more.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Laundry

It’s really nice to finally get the laundry done. I’ve been holding off on it because of a lack of quarters, but there are only so many shirts and only so many clean pairs of underwear. I finally got my hands on a five-dollar bill, which I could then use to get lots of quarters from the change machine on the first floor. I then proceeded to wash literally everything, my towels, the sheets, the ridiculous pile that had been residing in the laundry hamper, everything. And while folding it all was a nightmare and a half, truly a labor worthy of the great Heracles, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of sleeping on soft, fresh-washed sheets. Honestly, it’s what makes it all worth it. 

[katieswalkingjournal]

Saturday

Today I had myself a little adventure. Maverick and I navigated the perils of the Sarasota bus system to go to Starbucks, a real one, so we could get off campus and do cafe drawings. It was fun, especially because one of our friends works there and we kept him company for most of his shift. The problem came when we tried to take the bus home.

We went to the spot where it had dropped us off, where it was supposed to pick us up. We waited for 20 mins. No bus. 

So we called Maverick’s RA. 

He didn’t respond, so we called their roommate, Alyssa, who did respond, and about 20 mins later a rescue party consisting of their RA, Phi, Alyssa, and Liu arrived to pick us up, and then go to Target, because obviously. 

I didn’t get home until around 9:00PM. But I did have fun.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Thanksgiving

Day 2 dawned bright and early with an emergency supply run to Walgreens, stopping by campus to grab toiletries and fresh clothes, returning to the apartment to start making stuffing (me and Maverick), play Just Dance (Rachel and Maverick), and get chased out of the tiny kitchen because they couldn’t stop eating the stuffing while it was being made (Eli). I then had to leave to go to my grandmother’s for her Thanksgiving dinner, which I had been promised to do months ago. Returning to the apartment (because I had made that dinner, I was damn well going to eat it), I arrived to help set up the table, plate the turkey and sides, and sit down to my second Thanksgiving dinner.

Day 3 (Black Friday) was spent cleaning the apartment and watching ridiculous anime. Because that is what you do when you want to avoid both going to the labs and roommate ire.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Midnight Turkey Hell

Thanksgiving break has been…eventful, to say the least. Wednesday started out normally enough, with no classes and relaxing with my friends. Then one of my friends, Eli, messages our squad: hey, wanna hang out? Of course I say yes, and when we meet him and start discussing the Thanksgiving dinner he had planned, we find out that he had not gotten any food or supplies. Not even a turkey. This led to a 11:30 PM Walmart run to get the turkey, roasting pan, stuffing supplies, pie supplies, and various cooking utensils. Then there was the scramble to get it back home, Eli refuses to touch the turkey or go anywhere near it, which means my friend Maverick and I have to get it ready to brine. After a few arguments about knives and whether or not I should be allowed to handle them, the turkey is in brine, hands are washed, and the pies are started.

Four pies.

Maverick bowed out at 1 AM, going to sleep in Eli’s room. Rachel, last member of our squad, had fallen asleep on the couch an hour ago, been awoken by a very enthusiastic Eli, and then had fallen asleep ten minutes later once the sofabed had been set up. Eli and I finished the last of the pies around 2 AM, and then decided we needed to taste one of the pies, waking up both Maverick and Rachel and then eating pie on the kitchen floor (because the table was covered in stuffing supplies). Thus ends Day 1; to be continued.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Tuesday

Today was the last day of classes before Thanksgiving break. Everyone is antsy, they want to be out of here, people who are going home want to be there already, people who are staying just don't want to have classes. Today’s classes were just work-days, nothing special, and you could almost feel the thrum of tension in the air. Finals are coming soon, and everyone other than the freshmen is tense over the Ringling Review. Quidditch is cancelled, and I don’t know what to do with myself; I don’t have my energy outlet, I don’t have anything to do other than homework. 

[katieswalkingjournal]

Progress has unfortunately been slow on the “issue” in my field; because Illustration is such a diverse major, with so many ways it can be turned into a career, it is difficult to pin down one issue, especially when I myself am unsure what what I specifically want to do with my degree. An issue also arises in the lack of trade journals; while many art and design trade journals say they include illustration in their content, it is nigh impossible to find relevant articles that are more than just a showcase of works by one artist, or an illustration submission contest. The issue I have decided to tackle is the problem of proper pay; many artists are painfully underpaid, and many settle for lower prices and make it difficult for artists who can’t do that to make enough money. In addition, as a woman and member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I am already at a disadvantage in response to being paid properly. 

[katieswalkingjournal]

Caroling

The a cappella group, the Ringling Music Minors, went caroling tonight. It was a fundraiser; people contacted us from all across campus, ordering cookies, hot chocolate, and hot apple cider, and small groups would then be sent out to deliver them with a Christmas carol. Towards the end of the night, we took our tray of cookies and caroled in the Game Art labs, brought cookies to the guards in the Academic Center, and sold cookies in the 24 hour labs and in CJ. It was pretty fun, even if they found out how ticklish I am and T and Gina abused it mercilessly. I’d never actually be caroling before. I don’t know if I know anyone who has. 

It was nice.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Dumpster.

Oh my dear sweet money-grubbing Jesus Christ. This has gotten ridiculous. 

Tonight, there was a Dumpster on the Quidditch field. 

A big ol’ metal Dumpster, full of cardboard and who knows what, not quite in the middle but exactly where goalposts go. We had to switch team sides halfway through the scrimmage because it was such a handicap. 

I can understand roping off a large part of our field because they wanted to fix it up and put down new sod. 

I can understand moving parking markers onto our field because they were clearing new space for the field, though it made me really made. 

But putting actual trash on our field?! A huge metal Dumpster full of trash on our field?!

Are you serious?!

[katieswalkingjournal]

Contrastive Reduplication

Contrastive reduplication is a form of intensification found in many dialects across the world, from Bantu languages to Finnish and Hungarian. English has several different types of reduplication, which can make it difficult; there’s baby talk (choo-choo, no-no), rhyming (teeny-weeny, super-duper), and the classic “shm” reduplication: fancy-schmancy (a way of denying the claim that something is fancy). Contrastive reduplication is when a word is repeated to show that something is the original or more intense version of the word, exemplified here:

“I don’t want soy milk, I want milk-milk.”

“It’s not a potato salad, it’s a salad-salad.’

“Does he like me, or like-like me?”

Each of these shows that the contrastive reduplication is a method of differentiating meanings of the often confusing English language, and I personally find it fascinating. Especially when used in everyday conversations.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Owie

I have never fully understood the phrase “my everything hurts” until today. My entire body is protesting the falls, the times I ended up airborne, the blocks, the getting rammed by overly muscled and over-competitive football team rejects (I swear on my life, they growled at me before tackling me), the pushing my body beyond its normal limits, the over two hours sitting in a small car, all the abuse I put it through yesterday. It is protesting this loudly. 

I’m just very very lucky that the head of a cappella is an ex-Beater. She understands the pain. 

Owie.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Fox Cup

Today has been a very long day, folks.

It started at 5:30 in the morning, after 4 painfully short hours of sleep, to be up and ready and in the shell lot so we could coordinate. And retrieve members who had mixed up setting alarms or had fallen back asleep. I had to do this twice, and combining that with other latecomers to my carpool, we didn’t leave until after 7. When we had a game at 9. In Orlando. Which is over 2 hours away from Sarasota. We made it, barely, through what some might consider questionable practices. We may have been going 90 mph at one point. It was a bit of a blur.

We got there in the nick of time (since it was Justin’s car and that meant it had both Keepers), and proceeded to lose two matches to unregistered teams, which meant that we technically got bumped up in the ratings. We then had a several-hour-long break because we had to send in players to ref other games. Food was had, people were talked to, shenanigans and tomfoolery happened, and then we lost to our first registered opponent, got some great hugs from a man with a ref shirt and a “FREE HUGS” sign, and lost the first match of bracketed play. We did however catch the Snitch, and caused a lot of confusion in our opponents as we cheered and paraded our Seeker around on people’s shoulders. Because of our impressive losing streak, we were out of bracketed play, and got to leave at 6. Several of us found delicious food, and began the long trek back home. I didn’t get back to my dorm room until around 8:30, 9 PM, and became one with my bed after a quick shower. What a day. What a lovely day.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Fears

I’m realizing, I’m disrupting my routine again. I disrupted it last weekend with ShadoCon, but it wasn’t as drastic because while I was at a convention, I was with my cosplay friends, who I normally spend the weekends with. I won’t see them at all this weekend, what with thesis and tournaments and homework assignments. 

Part of me fears they’ll realize how much better it is without me. Fears they’ll leave me behind. Fears they’ll see it as me choosing Quidditch over them. Fears I’ll lose them. Fears that my insecurities were right. 

And part of me knows that won’t happen. Right?

[katieswalkingjournal]

Wait For It

Before I start off this journal entry, I’d like to preface it with the fact that I’ve been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack obsessively, and not only is it beautifully written and just generally amazing in general, but some of it beautifully poignant and universal. One song that stands out tonight is the song “Wait For It”. It’s sung by Aaron Burr, bringing new dimension to a man often portrayed as a villain of history, Alexander Hamilton’s first friend and later his worst enemy, the man who ended up killing him. Taking place early in the revolution, he shows that his actions are calculating, but not because he’s cruel, but because he’s desperately trying not to screw up, that he’s got such little left that every move he makes must be perfect; that he hopes to find his purpose and that if that means he needs to wait, to hide his emotions and act carefully, then he’s willing to wait for it.

Death doesn’t discriminate Between the sinners And the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We rise and we fall And we break And we make our mistakes And if there’s a reason I’m still alive When everyone who loves me has died I’m willing to wait for it

[katieswalkingjournal]

Mouth Guard

I don’t like mouth guards. 

They are a necessary evil when playing full contact sports, and I prefer looking stupid to missing teeth, but that doesn't make them any less of a pain in the ass to deal with.

I had to run all over a friggin Target to find them, in a tiny section of football gear. I got it home, and had to carve off pieces of the inside because they had slammed into the roof of my mouth and left painful marks. I boiled water in my microwave and stuck the stupid thing in, counting out the 15 seconds, then dunking it in a bowl of ice water for two seconds, then shoving it in my mouth and biting. 

I looked so, so stupid. 

I sucked the air and water out, pulling it flat against my teeth, holding it for half a minute. Then I dunked it in the ice water again, and tried it on again.

And then repeated it 4 more times. 

It still looks stupid.

[katieswalkingjournal]

Hospital

Tonight is going to be a long night.

One of our Chasers, Jeremy, was running the ball and trying to score. I was out of the game because of an incident with goalposts, and I was also cleaning up a myriad of cuts and scrapes on Rocky’s leg from the gravel, so I didn’t see what happened. But apparently he crashed into a goalpost, like I did, but when he hit the ground, his head struck a tree root, and began bleeding. Profusely. 

There was a pool of blood in the dirt. 

He was still coherent, and declined an ambulance -- Kyle said he would drive him to the hospital. But still, this is happening too goddamn often. People are getting hurt, really hurt, because Public Safety has continued to section off areas where we could play safely, and put concrete parking markers on what’s left. We have to warp our field more and more because we need to practice, and it’s putting us in dangerous areas that we normally could avoid. It’s beyond ridiculous, it’s downright dangerous at this point. It needs to be resolved.

Update: Jeremy will be all right, he’s got three staples in his head but the gash was the only medical issue. He won’t be able to practice or join us at the Fox Cup, but he’s going to be okay.