(no subject)
Did I mention I'm doing National Novel Writing Month? Granted, I'm doing it really half-assed because I do not have the time and energy to be really gung-ho about it, but after a particularly discouraging portfolio review followed by the realization that I don't think I actually want to be a graphic designer, I decided "fuck it, I'm gonna do this even though I probably shouldn't." So I'm writing a novel, be it a short and not very good one. At least I'm writing.
A little over a week ago, I was supposed to get a lot of progress on my revisions done. I didn't. Instead, I went to Lubbock and hung out with my family and some of my friends (though not as many as I would have liked, most notably Shelly [at all] and Meredith [much]). I had my doctor's appointment and I am healing up nicely. I had a break from this town, which I have gotten so sick and tired of. I like Denton, don't get me wrong, but I need a change. Badly. And my sis gave me a kick ass haircut. (I am, by the way, in love with the TIGI straightening stuff...my hair is this weird limbo texture...not straight but not wavy either, and very prone to frizzing, but the TIGI stuff tames it, along with Salon Selectives Hair Putty...not that you guys actually care about my battles with my hair). Anyway, I get back to Denton at 11 pm on Monday, and of course want to spend some time with the boyfriend. Read: I don't have anything for class on Tuesday.
Then, Tuesday I'm standing in class looking at everyone's revisions and realize I don't care. I don't care about their work. I don't care about my own work. I don't care how cool the concept is, or how great the colors are, or if Baur Bodoni really was the right typeface to use, or if you want to set that Baur Bodoni at 8/10 or 10/14 or whatever. I don't care.
What's more, I want to go get my masters in English. I don't know where I'm going to do it, or what I am going to do afterwards (teach I suppose, while I wait to get old enough to write a really intersting book). Heck, I might still look for a graphic design job when I'm done with school, but I'm not going to look for one of those bright hotshot graphic design jobs where you work 70 hours a week and there is all the sweat and blood and tears and what have you and you get to build this great book. If I do design after I get out, I'm working 40-50 hours a week and no weekends. Otherwise, I'll just get a normal office job. (Money doesn't really matter so much, I just need to take home $1000 a month post graduation and rent is paid and car payments made, etc.)
Oop, time to go home. Yay.
A little over a week ago, I was supposed to get a lot of progress on my revisions done. I didn't. Instead, I went to Lubbock and hung out with my family and some of my friends (though not as many as I would have liked, most notably Shelly [at all] and Meredith [much]). I had my doctor's appointment and I am healing up nicely. I had a break from this town, which I have gotten so sick and tired of. I like Denton, don't get me wrong, but I need a change. Badly. And my sis gave me a kick ass haircut. (I am, by the way, in love with the TIGI straightening stuff...my hair is this weird limbo texture...not straight but not wavy either, and very prone to frizzing, but the TIGI stuff tames it, along with Salon Selectives Hair Putty...not that you guys actually care about my battles with my hair). Anyway, I get back to Denton at 11 pm on Monday, and of course want to spend some time with the boyfriend. Read: I don't have anything for class on Tuesday.
Then, Tuesday I'm standing in class looking at everyone's revisions and realize I don't care. I don't care about their work. I don't care about my own work. I don't care how cool the concept is, or how great the colors are, or if Baur Bodoni really was the right typeface to use, or if you want to set that Baur Bodoni at 8/10 or 10/14 or whatever. I don't care.
What's more, I want to go get my masters in English. I don't know where I'm going to do it, or what I am going to do afterwards (teach I suppose, while I wait to get old enough to write a really intersting book). Heck, I might still look for a graphic design job when I'm done with school, but I'm not going to look for one of those bright hotshot graphic design jobs where you work 70 hours a week and there is all the sweat and blood and tears and what have you and you get to build this great book. If I do design after I get out, I'm working 40-50 hours a week and no weekends. Otherwise, I'll just get a normal office job. (Money doesn't really matter so much, I just need to take home $1000 a month post graduation and rent is paid and car payments made, etc.)
Oop, time to go home. Yay.