  We worked on portraits today in photography. My partner is a kid I went to elementary school with. He’s perfectly nice, but the assignment bothers me. I hate having my picture taken like this. The best pictures are the ones with a good story, ones were you don’t look very good, but you look happy. All of the pictures I pose for in this class turn out stiff, mean even.
Like I am mad at the camera. Portraits are intimate… every imperfection and pore show. There’s nothing to hide behind with a nine-inch lens in your face. It’s very unerving to come out of that class and suddenly aware of how I look to other people. It’s awkward, like a second-coming of seventh grade. I skipped my English class this morning.
I had the three-day weekend to read three scenes of Julius Caesar, yet I opted to instead lose myself in my newest Modest Mouse CD. (Some call my a slacker, I call me a music-appreciator) While in The Rocket, nurturing my remote caffeine-addiction, three seniors walked in. I only know this because they were wearing “TIGERS ‘04” spirit shirts. I am honestly surprised that they had time to eat their bagels with all the gossip they were spewing. It was truly disgusting. Through the Jazzy Indian music (which was actually quite good) I hear things like this; “Who does she think she is!
I mean, I love her, but come on, Jessica, you’re not that hot!” “…and I was so drunk, I hardly remember anything!” “She’s a whore, a dirty whore. But she’s so cool, I totally love her! !” What a perfect representation of Spokanian youth. My favorite part was when one girl excused herself to the bathroom for a few minuets. And the two remaining girls tore into her… “What is she wearing! I love her, I totally love her, but what the fuck!
?” “I knooooow! Oh my god, those pants do not fit. But I love her…” Ew. I was looking up Google Images on “Spokane” this afternoon. And this is one I found. How perfect an image of what life is all about here!
The (white) wife standing and rubbing her (white) husband’s shoulders while he suns himself. Oh yes, there's a (white) baby, too. Poor kid, he 's going to soon realize how doomed his life here will be. God, even the dog is white in this picture. It could be on a pamphlet for the KKK. I have this ongoing idea about making a documentary about the lives of disaffected youth in Spokane.
There are so many things that happened here… its hard to focus in on an angle. The history is the violent Native American-murdering kind. I keep coming back, though, to the idea of sullen youth kids with no outlet for their artistic expression, since the music scene is shit and the art scene is nonexistent. It would be interesting to talk to kids from different age groups. I just feel like writing my continuous daydream in here in case it’s ever fully realized. Time to listen to a cowboy.
Affectionately… Anna 
