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Well, I have been on some interesting dates lately.  Very interesting.

The one I’m going to tell you about started off well.  He’s a writer, I’m a writer.  Cool.  He wants to be the voice of our generation.  A little weird and intense, but whatever.  Then he revealed he has no car.  I swear people with no cars just flock to me.  Chico’s dad didn’t have a car.  After a year and a half of that, I just can’t deal.  At the time of the date, I was like, ok, no car.  We’ll just see how this goes, I’m already out here.  Then he told me I was beautiful, which is always nice to hear.  Until he told me about ten more times.  Like, “You’re so pretty” “You’re so beautiful” and on and on and on.  After  awhile, the desperation begins oozing out, I know I’m no model.

Then he started on the, “I really like you” “I’m soooooo glad we met.”  Also, nice to hear, but only say it once.  At the tenth time, I was like, I need to get out of here.

He also insisted on reading a passage from a book to me out loud.  A few pages worth.  I insisted he stop, I was feeling uncomfortable at this point, but he refused and said he wanted me to hear it.  Did I mention he started in the middle of the book?  Even if I had been interested, I would’ve had no idea what was going on in the story.

He wanted to shake on “Giving it the college try.”  Like, let’s give a relationship a college try.  I don’t even know what that means.  And a handshake?  Seriously?  I should’ve left right then, but being the type that wants to please and feeling confused, I was just like, whatever.

Then, THEN he asked me to be his girlfriend.  On the FIRST. DATE.  Yes.  After which he told me he wants to hang out with me every day and he couldn’t wait to see me again and did I want to come over and watch movies the next day.

It was intense, ya’ll.

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OMG, I made it through the quarter!  Woot!

When I woke up yesterday, I felt like I was in a nightmare–I was soooo nervous about my critique!  In my first two quarters I felt relieved on critique day, but not yesterday.  I was petrified.  But, I went to it and it went well.  I got some great constructive criticism, they didn’t absolutely hate everything I made.  I was so scared that they were going to tell me everything I created over the last 10 weeks sucked and I’m never going to be a good designer and I should quit now and then throw tomatoes at me and ruin my pretty dress.  That didn’t happen.  It was really nice.

Now, I’m on my break and I have no idea what to do with myself.  I picked up a knitting project I haven’t worked on in…I don’t know, a year?  This thing is ridiculous, ya’ll (there are pictures in the link).  I looked through almost all of my knitting books and magazines last night and was convinced I wanted to pull it all out and start a new project (my mom was all like, “You CANNOT pull this out, all this work!”).  But, after looking at hundred of pages of patterns, I decided to keep going with it.  Sigh.

Today, Chico and I are chillin’.  We’re basking in the light of our success (I consider it our success because he’s spent a lot of long nights glaring at me while I worked on projects until the wee hours of the morning).  Maybe we’ll finally get a chance to get together with those Asian Cajuns.

(the letter o provided by Daily Drop Cap)

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My whole life, when anything got too hard, I quit.  Teeball, Brownies, AP Biology, graduate school…  I’ve never tried for anything I didn’t know I’d be good at (except twice, I did swim team in high school and tried out for dance team in middle school.  Sucked at both)  And right now, I’m trying at something I’m not feeling I’m good at and I want to quit so much.  BUT, I’m not going to.

Quitting has always been a way of protecting myself.  “I could be good at (insert here) if I really tried.”  And if I quit, I didn’t have to prove myself.  I could go on say I could be good at it.  Well, school is kicking my ass and I’m really trying and I don’t think I’m very good at design.  But I’m not going to quit.  I’m going to keep going.  I feel like the panic and stress I’m experiencing right now is going to kill me, but I’m going to keep going.  My fear is that I’m going to try and try and try and I’m going to find I’m not good at it and that is just not acceptable to me.  But I have to keep going to find out.

I have a project due today.  A project for a class that has me living in fear.  I literally started crying in classes 3 DAYS IN A ROW last week because of this class.  All of my teachers probably think I’m emotionally unstable, which I am a little at this point.  Because of this hell class.  Last week, we (as a collective class) were berated for 2 hours about how lazy we are and how we’re not trying and how much we suck and on and on and on.  It would be funny if it were happening to someone else.  The stuff that was coming out of this guy’s mouth was like stuff from a movie teacher.  He said something along the lines of, “Your illustration skills are just not up to par, I hope these are stand in illustrations and you get a real illustrator to do them for you.”

Did that sink in?

Insulted on top of the insult.  And remember, I did the illustrations and I’m not working hard enough.  According to this dude.  Because my illustrations are terrible.

This class has me rethinking my whole life.  I’m having an existential breakdown.  I’m all, who am I?  What am I doing here?  Maybe I’ll drop out and become an escort because if I suck as a designer, that’s the only job I’ll be able to get.  See what I mean?

So, where am I going with this…we have to redesign the packaging for this.  The bottle, not the bar.  Those little white lines on the label are type.  Cultish, weird stuff about the Moral ABCs.  And we have to keep all of the type.  Everyone not doing the project seems to think it’ll be “fun.”  Guess what?  It’s not.  It’s hellacious.

I’ve been working hard and designing my label.  Everything was going great and I had it done after working on it for 4 or 5 days.  Days.  Then I started staring at it.  And hating it.  I would show you a picture, but at this point, I hate it so much that I’m too embarrassed. ‘hipster sigh’ Design school is hard. Now I don’t know what to do. Redesign or keep it and if I want to redesign, what do I do with it?  I just don’t know.

This morning I saw Slaight at the front door.  She’s 16.  My first animal and now my dad’s (my parents wouldn’t let me take her when I moved out).  She comes to the door when she wants to come in and just sits there because she knows it may take a little while, she’s pretty patient.  See, the dogs have an electric fence inside the house and they wear special collars so they can’t leave the living room or kitchen (they go to the bathroom everywhere–except Chico) but they can still come to the threshold of the living room and act like they are going to eat Slaight).  So, every time she comes in she has to come to the front door and it’s a huge production to let her in because that door doesn’t open easily and the dogs freak and their collars beep and it’s ridiculous.  We all know they aren’t going to go past the shock line. Why bark like that?  Ugh

As cats do, Slaight takes her sweet time getting up and coming in the door.  Sometimes she just stands in between the door and the foyer and stares at me.  To be an ass.  This morning I saw her little ears over the glass of the door and assumed she needed to come in.  No.  I went through the whole process of opening the door and arousing the dogs and she gave me this horrible look.  So, to teach her a lesson, I shut the door and decided not to wait for her.  To teach her a lesson, you know, to come in the house in my time.  Because it’s all about me.  ‘sigh’  I have been trying to teach that cat a lesson since I got her and she still operates in cat time.  And I realized today how ridiculous I am.

P.S. I don’t think I’m getting this whole “break” thing from the August Break.  If you haven’t noticed, I’ve been posting in the cry babies tag a lot this week because I’ve been freaking out about school.  Like, freaking out.  Hopefully, this week will be better.

Here are days 5 & 6 in order.  They are both for beer packaging.  One is a drawing for it and one is for research of cool packaging.

Day 1: My horrible packaging.  6 months ago I would’ve thought this was great, this school is breaking me.

Day 3: What has become my whole life.

I hate being bored.  And, today is the mother of boring days.  Seriously, I’m a little worried I’m just going to keel over from it.  I have nothing to do all day.  Nothing to look forward to.  Until bed.  I’m not good at handling these days after several in a row (by several I mean half a day).  I’ve knitted, watched Weeds, thought about doing some photoshop tutorials, texted friends and whined about being bored, thought about my past life when I had a job and wasn’t bored, thought about 2 weeks ago when I was super busy and staying up for days on end, hating my life, being mad at myself for being bored.  Not really action packed.  And now that I live outside of the city, driving to people who are available costs like $5 in gas.

Chico keeps staring at me.  Like he wants something.  He comes and stares.  And then he leaves and comes back.  It’s super adorable, but a little annoying.  These pictures are all from one morning, by the way.  He changes positions, walks away, comes back.  Same expression.

He left for a bit.

But, back to the boredom.  It’s excruciating.  I actually broke down and cried a little bit.  That is how bored I am.  But, I finished a painting.  I’ve only been working on it when I can’t sleep, so it took a while.  I had so little to finish that I just went ahead and completed it today.  I need something complicated to work on so when I’m bored or can’t sleep, I can get into detail.

And, he's back!

Please send me interesting comments.  Or non interesting ones.  Just something!  Say something so I’m not crying because of boredom!

So.  There is this girl from school.  I’ve talked to her a few times in passing.  We’ve mostly discussed how tired we are and how ridiculous studio week is.  Apparently, she’s a sarcastic bitch, just like me, and wants to be friends.  This is how she told me.  (This took my way to long to make.  I don’t know if I’m getting my money’s worth out of design school.)

And then there was a lot of other inappropriateness over direct messaging that I can’t share.  Or, I could, but I’m not going to.

This took my like 3 hours to make and then load into wordpress so you can see the whole thing and read it if you squint.  You’re welcome.

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