Einstein Bros. made an extra pumpkin coffee by mistake today and gave it to me free!
Uncle Syd is doing a lot better. They have him in a body brace until his back heals, because they determined surgery was unnecessary on the fracture. The hip surgery was successful, they put a couple screws in his bone. He's able to walk now, sort of. He can use a walker as long as he does not put weight on his right leg. I talked to him on the phone the other day, and he seemed to be in pretty good spirits, just a lot of pain. I feel bad for him, I want this all to be over. The nurses are walking with him twice a day. I'm going to give him a call tomorrow morning to see how he's feeling. I hope after this he learns his lesson with alcohol. I really do. We all do.
In other news, his "stepson" Ryan visited Uncle Syd in the hospital, and my mom happened to be there at the same time, wearing a UNT shirt. Ryan asked who went there, Mom said that I do and mentioned where I work as well. So now Ryan knows where I work AND where I go to school. Great. I hate this kid. I genuinely wish to never see him again, as long as I live. I have no desire to even be in any kind of contact with him. I know Mom wasn't trying to make me mad, and I forgive her for mentioning where I work, but now I'm terrified that he's going to come in and ask when I work or he'll see me. I told the manager with whom I most often work, "If a big Mexican kid comes in here looking for me, tell him I DO NOT work here." Which made her kind of question what kind of crowd I'm running with, but whatever. I do not want to see Ryan. Ever again.
In scholarly news, I'm overloaded with things to do. The gallery is going as smoothly as it can, I guess. Just under four weeks until we go up. SHIT, JUST UNDER FOUR WEEKS UNTIL WE GO UP. I thought I had five weeks, dammit. I really need to start working on my piece again. It needs to be almost completely reworked. I'm really kind of regretting volunteering to be the chairperson of the installation committee, because these people are TERRIBLE with deadlines. I sent out the submission form to get a feel for what kind of pieces we'll be working with, and only three people sent a form back to me over the next two weeks. I announced last class that I was getting worried that people didn't have their forms in, and right as I finished my sentence, the teacher, Pam, yelled out, "IF SHE'S WORRIED, I'M PISSED," and started lecturing about how they need to get forms in ASAP. Which was great for me, because now I have all but three forms turned in. But I feel like the class got upset with me for making the instructor angry at them. But that's what you get for missing deadlines. Gallery curators in the real world are not going to sit around and twiddle their thumbs while they wait for you to get your shit together.
I had a meeting with my painting instructor today. We had four weeks for this assignment, and he wanted us to really do a great one since we had double the normal time. I've been thinking and thinking and thinking and OVERthinking this assignment to the maxx. I went in to his office today and told him, "I have no idea what I'm doing," before slamming my eyes shut and flinching, expecting a punch in the face. He just looked at me evenly and said, "Okaaay. Well, how can I help you with it?" So I told him all the thought I've been putting into the assignment, and he told me I need to slow down the thinking and just make art. I've never thought about it that way, I guess. So tomorrow I need to get some plywood and just start going at it.
In other news, his "stepson" Ryan visited Uncle Syd in the hospital, and my mom happened to be there at the same time, wearing a UNT shirt. Ryan asked who went there, Mom said that I do and mentioned where I work as well. So now Ryan knows where I work AND where I go to school. Great. I hate this kid. I genuinely wish to never see him again, as long as I live. I have no desire to even be in any kind of contact with him. I know Mom wasn't trying to make me mad, and I forgive her for mentioning where I work, but now I'm terrified that he's going to come in and ask when I work or he'll see me. I told the manager with whom I most often work, "If a big Mexican kid comes in here looking for me, tell him I DO NOT work here." Which made her kind of question what kind of crowd I'm running with, but whatever. I do not want to see Ryan. Ever again.
In scholarly news, I'm overloaded with things to do. The gallery is going as smoothly as it can, I guess. Just under four weeks until we go up. SHIT, JUST UNDER FOUR WEEKS UNTIL WE GO UP. I thought I had five weeks, dammit. I really need to start working on my piece again. It needs to be almost completely reworked. I'm really kind of regretting volunteering to be the chairperson of the installation committee, because these people are TERRIBLE with deadlines. I sent out the submission form to get a feel for what kind of pieces we'll be working with, and only three people sent a form back to me over the next two weeks. I announced last class that I was getting worried that people didn't have their forms in, and right as I finished my sentence, the teacher, Pam, yelled out, "IF SHE'S WORRIED, I'M PISSED," and started lecturing about how they need to get forms in ASAP. Which was great for me, because now I have all but three forms turned in. But I feel like the class got upset with me for making the instructor angry at them. But that's what you get for missing deadlines. Gallery curators in the real world are not going to sit around and twiddle their thumbs while they wait for you to get your shit together.
I had a meeting with my painting instructor today. We had four weeks for this assignment, and he wanted us to really do a great one since we had double the normal time. I've been thinking and thinking and thinking and OVERthinking this assignment to the maxx. I went in to his office today and told him, "I have no idea what I'm doing," before slamming my eyes shut and flinching, expecting a punch in the face. He just looked at me evenly and said, "Okaaay. Well, how can I help you with it?" So I told him all the thought I've been putting into the assignment, and he told me I need to slow down the thinking and just make art. I've never thought about it that way, I guess. So tomorrow I need to get some plywood and just start going at it.