The funniest thing about Australians
is that they apparently refer their trucks as "Utes" (pronounced "yoot," and short, I think, for "utility truck"). I can't say for certain whether "Ute" is common usage or not, never having been there myself, but a while ago, Andy (who has) downloaded some tacky Australian country-western music, and one of the songs (sung mournfully by a nasally cowboy type) was called "She Only Loves Me For My Ute." I thought this was hilarious, but the cowboy seemed quite grave indeed, the poor sod.
Andy left today for Alaska to commercial fish for a little over a month. There'll be no cellphone reception or any of that, so for the first time in four years we won't have the chance to speak or see each other for an entire month straight. I'm a little weirded out, so, in classic obsessive-compulsive-artist fashion, I've begun about thirteen random projects to keep myself occupied, most involving painting, packing, or reading and making teaching-shizznit. My kitchen has become a riotous disaster of acrylic paint and glitter; right now I'm painting a huge mosaic-like artwork covered in leering, intricately designed calacas for Day of the Dead, so everything's vaguely fiesta-colored. I'll post pictures of my mess and hopefully the resulting artwork when Andy returns with my camera (assuming that it's not eaten by some 200-pound salmon or drowned overboard).
Other things:
We're (or should I say I'm?) looking for housing somewhere in North Eugene, Coburg, or even (yes) Junction City--which are all closer to the ambiguous but impressive mini-tropolis of H-ville. I'm on the hunt for something cute and cottagey, with a yard and maybe even a back porch where we can sit and barbecue and drink improvised mojitos. Most of all, dogs must be allowed, because I am adopting my dogchild at the end of the summer(!) without fail(!!) and nothing(!!!) will get in my way this time, cackle cackle(!!!!).
Also, have I mentioned? I've decided that the film-making class that I'm teaching in the winter is going to be centered around doing homemade "remakes" (or unsold Sweded films) ala Be Kind Rewind, instead of the usual documentaries. The thought came to me last night when I began to consider how hilarious a homemade rendition of Return of the Jedi would be; Andy and I were discussing how a kid wearing a full-body painted cardboard box and wandering around on stilts would make an awesomely awkward Imperial Walker. You could also re-shoot the entire Endor forest scene using remodeled bikes, sped up at 4x the normal pace. Hockey masks on the riders, perhaps, and spraypainted super soakers as blasters (or is that illegal in a school system?).
Yep, I'm absurdly excited about this. I'm going to have four groups of kids (about five kids per group), and they'll choose their own film to remake, and when the process is through, we'll have a big film class festival at the end. The best part of the whole thing is that they'll still be learning the basics of film-making (including the different types of shots and sound and lighting basics) while having fun and making hilarious final products.
Homemade props are a must.
I'm a lot more comfortable teaching this than documentaries.
If y'all want to re-enroll in high school and be in my class, be my guest. :)
