The good old days of freakishly simple editing tools.

     Tonight, I sat down in my bedroom in Scranton with my dial up Internet connection and patiently edited this self-portrait using only the Windows Photo Gallery "fix" and Paint. I upped the brightness, contrast, and saturation full strength, set the color temperature all the way down, then just added the other effects and copyright info using Paint.
     I've become spoiled with Lightroom™ and lightning-fast Internet at RIT, so I thought I'd just bring myself back to the nostalgic days of the anticipated unknown.

Darlene the sea monkey. ♥

     I took this photo a while ago, but I decided it was blog material. This is Darlene, my first sea monkey. RIT doesn't allow pets other than fish in the dorms, and since I can't seem to keep a fish alive no matter how much I feed it, sing to it, love it, and take care of it, I decided to buy $5 sea monkeys at Wal-Mart. I followed the directions to a T, and when I saw microscopic babies squirming around that stupid cheap tank... I can honestly say I've never been prouder. I watched the little dots get bigger and bigger, until one day, I saw only one lonely speck swimming about the plastic tank. I was devastated. But I didn't let that keep me from giving my one sea monkey the most love possible. After much deliberation, I named her Darlene Jehoshaphat. When it came time to go back to Scranton for Christmas break, I was determined to bring her with me. I held her in the car for the 4-hour ride back, constantly holding the tank to the light to check on her. She swam happily in adorable loop-dee-loops and squiggly patterns, each time bringing a smile to my face and a glow in my heart.
     When I got home, I kept Darlene on my bedroom dresser and kept the blinds open so she wouldn't be alone in the dark when I wasn't there to keep her company. As I set the tank down on the dresser, the water sloshed around, kicking up the remains of the other poor little brine shrimp, almost bringing me to tears. I looked at happy little D.J. and said "I love you! I'll take care of you and make sure you're happy and loved at all times, don't you worry."
     A few days later, I was gazing at D.J. and watched her swirl among the specks in the water.
Wait.
Specks?
I didn't move the tank, did I?
     I took the little useless magnifying glass that came with the sea monkey kit and looked closer. What I saw made my heart leap: little squiggles moving around in careful circles. I cannot even describe to you how happy I felt seeing brand new baby sea monkeys in my shrimpy family. My jaw dropped and then pulled back up into a grin. I made a noise of elation and ran into the kitchen to tell my parents that little Darlene had babies. (They know I'm crazy, so they gave me that "Oh really? That's nice" response as I jumped up and down like a little girl.)
     As I type this closing paragraph, I'm watching seven little sea monkeys squiggling around in their upgraded dollar-store cage (shown in the photo above, back in the day when Darlene was flyin' solo). I have an upcoming spring break, and I'm debating whether or not to leave them here or take them home. I'm nervous about spilling one of them out, and I know they'll be fine here if I feed them before I leave. I think they're big kids. They can do it. They grow up so fast! I love all of you, my little shrimp angels. I'll never let you down. ♥

Crutch Rifles.

I, being incredibly accident prone, own three pairs of crutches. I keep one pair in my dorm room, just in case. They were recently needed, but not for me, and not for an injury... on the contrary, they were used to defend freedom as we know it here at RIT. They made excellent intimidating rifles, which proved to be quite hilarious while gallivanting about the underground tunnels.

To see the complete collection of this documentation of fascination, 
click HERE. Now.

Then and Now.

One assignment I had in my photo arts class at RIT was to take a self-portrait on the first and last day of the 10-week term. Looking at these photos side by side is difficult because the difference behind my eyes is so obvious and intense, at least to me. Over those ten weeks, my life took a complete spiral downward -- I lost my mommy, my happiness, and my appetite.

○  ○  ○

The photo on the left represents my wonder and excitement for what the bright and unpredictable world holds for me. I posed as to not look completely relaxed, but not on-edge either. I held a curious expression gazing up at the sunlight, indirectly facing the wind, representing my eagerness and trepidation at the same time.

○  ○  ○

This morning I woke up at 6:30, slipped into some drab clothes topped with the sweater my mom gave me for Christmas, and took the picture on the right. I found the remains of my mom's Valentine on the table where I left them; someone had put the candies back into the heart-shaped boxes and neatly placed them in the center of the table. After opening them up, I was compelled to represent my misplaced heart with one of the heart boxes. I think my face blatantly reveals how tired and depressed I have become over the past month.  I look thinner, less interested, duller. For the past week I've been scared to sleep more than three or four hours a night in fear of dreaming about her, since that's what's been happening whenever I sleep six hours or more. I sat in front of the white board with the birthday list, garbage plate poster, and Batman drawing to show how out-of-place I feel in the world, like I belong in another realm or something.

Needless to say, I think the me on the left has learned a lot. The excitement for the future has turned into reality of the twists life can take at any given second. 

♥ Happy Valentine's Day. ♥

      My mom always bought me those little heart candies for Valentine's Day and left them on the kitchen table for me to take to school in the morning. So, this year I thought I'd return the favor. I left a few of the hearts word-side-up; the ones that remind me of her. They say XOXO, U GO GIRL, I ♥ YOU, YOU ROCK, and LOVE YOU. The big red hearts with water drops in them represent the countless painful tears I have shed over the past month and two days since I first found out I would never get to hug and kiss her again. 

♥ | kiss kiss | hug ♥ hug | love love | ♥

Back to the studios.

I had to give one of my classmates an "extreme makeover", so I decided to kidnap her. Last night I went to Wal-Mart for duct tape and fifty feet of heavy-duty rope for the shoot, so to entertain myself and the other girls with me, I yanked up my hood and put my hair in front of my face. When I approached the register, I shook slightly and talked in a monotone voice. After paying, I grabbed my rope and duct tape and awkwardly scampered toward the exit. Huzzah for pretending to be a sketchy murderer. But just look at these results!

In this photo: Jessica Schaeffers. Check out her blog! http://deedeephotography.blogspot.com/

Hear ye, hear ye...

On this day of 6 February 2011,
I, Krista May Carpenetti,
ate half of a buffalo chicken sandwich... real food....
and did not get sick.

I haven't been able to eat more than 500 calories' worth of food for over a week now. My body just rejects food within minutes every time I try to eat. Today, however, was different. I was hungry. I ate. I succeeded.

Best day ever? I think so.

Today I woke to three texts from three different people:

"Good morning beautiful <3 :)"

"Your beautiful :]"

and "Don't forget your surprise... U can come into the lounge now :)"

Already beaming, I jump out of bed and start toward the lounge. My friend Jess meets me outside the door and tells me to close my eyes. We walk inside and I open my eyes to a bunch of friends and a Ben & Jerry's Peppermint Shtick ice cream cake with balloons tied to every chair.

It's not even my birthday.

A different kind of footprint.

I got out of class this morning and saw a student slowly whirring by in his power chair through the slush and snow, leaving two parallel lines trailing behind him amidst countless footprints. Walking in the opposite direction, I followed the lines he left... the only perfectly traceable sign of someone traveling down the walkway. They were so distinct. While the hundreds of shoe sole imprints overlapped and slushed together, these "footprints" sliced through all of them effortlessly. I thought it was beautiful.