omghi2u.
I promise I will stick around this time.
Please find enclosed the highlights of the past 6 months of my life. Plus some purty pictures for the visual (read: illiterate) readers.
Part I: Wherein our heroine is overwhelmed by schoolwork.
Nobody enjoys discussing school beyond mere pleasantries, so I'll be brief. First year ended. Second year began. Same game, same ballpark, same team. However, this year beats the last in the professor department, because so far, I have yet to despise one of my profs. Any in the boring and rambling department? Yes. How about pompous and arrogant? Not so much. It is slightly more interesting as we're actually touching on subjects I am not a self-proclaimed expert in. I'm sorry, I meant it would be interesting if I wasn't so terrified of failing because I'm a moron when it comes to science. What does science have to do with art, you ask? Well, a lot when you're learning about robotics and the only science class you took in high school was biology. Can you say royally boned? I would, but I'm paralyzed with fear.
Part II: Wherein our heroine climbs the nearest clocktower.
So, I had a job. Note the past-tense. See, the job I mentioned so many months ago did not live up to its hype. First of all, my boss was a giant dillhole. It didn't matter if I spent 20 hours meticulously inspecting my design, searching for imperfections with a NASA certified telescope, he would still find 50 of his own and send a 20 page e-mail rant about how sloppy my work was, then completely wig out when I didn't reply within 2 hours. Now, I consider myself to be a perfectionist. Before uploading any of my own websites, I preview it in 5 different browsers, go through every page dozens of times searching for errors, double, triple, and quadruple check the coding, and test loading time each time I tweak a single pixel. If you expect more than that from me, you're just an anal-retentive ass who deserves to be sodomized with his own mouse. Second of all, I rarely received any work. Here's the routine: "Hey Danica, can you do this website for us by Friday, kthxbi". Website is completed and sent Thursday night. A week passes. Another week. Eventually: Oh look, feedback for that website I did 2 months ago! Back to square one! Oh, did I mention I wasn't being paid for anything I changed or fixed the second time around? Wee!
Was I fired? Nope. Quit? Not exactly. I like to think of it as more of an ellipses at the end of a sentence. See, I had this job...
Part III: Wherein our heroine designs mildly pretty things.
Admit it, you're just here for the pictures. You've endured the boring, monotonous conversation of fellow partycrashers and resigned yourself to a couple rounds of "guess what animal I am?", now bring on the free booze! (I know, my analogies rule.)
Here are a couple designs I've done over the past few months, for clients and myself. But mostly for clients. Which means I mostly despise them.
Good night!
Please find enclosed the highlights of the past 6 months of my life. Plus some purty pictures for the visual (read: illiterate) readers.
Part I: Wherein our heroine is overwhelmed by schoolwork.
Nobody enjoys discussing school beyond mere pleasantries, so I'll be brief. First year ended. Second year began. Same game, same ballpark, same team. However, this year beats the last in the professor department, because so far, I have yet to despise one of my profs. Any in the boring and rambling department? Yes. How about pompous and arrogant? Not so much. It is slightly more interesting as we're actually touching on subjects I am not a self-proclaimed expert in. I'm sorry, I meant it would be interesting if I wasn't so terrified of failing because I'm a moron when it comes to science. What does science have to do with art, you ask? Well, a lot when you're learning about robotics and the only science class you took in high school was biology. Can you say royally boned? I would, but I'm paralyzed with fear.
Part II: Wherein our heroine climbs the nearest clocktower.
So, I had a job. Note the past-tense. See, the job I mentioned so many months ago did not live up to its hype. First of all, my boss was a giant dillhole. It didn't matter if I spent 20 hours meticulously inspecting my design, searching for imperfections with a NASA certified telescope, he would still find 50 of his own and send a 20 page e-mail rant about how sloppy my work was, then completely wig out when I didn't reply within 2 hours. Now, I consider myself to be a perfectionist. Before uploading any of my own websites, I preview it in 5 different browsers, go through every page dozens of times searching for errors, double, triple, and quadruple check the coding, and test loading time each time I tweak a single pixel. If you expect more than that from me, you're just an anal-retentive ass who deserves to be sodomized with his own mouse. Second of all, I rarely received any work. Here's the routine: "Hey Danica, can you do this website for us by Friday, kthxbi". Website is completed and sent Thursday night. A week passes. Another week. Eventually: Oh look, feedback for that website I did 2 months ago! Back to square one! Oh, did I mention I wasn't being paid for anything I changed or fixed the second time around? Wee!
Was I fired? Nope. Quit? Not exactly. I like to think of it as more of an ellipses at the end of a sentence. See, I had this job...
Part III: Wherein our heroine designs mildly pretty things.
Admit it, you're just here for the pictures. You've endured the boring, monotonous conversation of fellow partycrashers and resigned yourself to a couple rounds of "guess what animal I am?", now bring on the free booze! (I know, my analogies rule.)
Here are a couple designs I've done over the past few months, for clients and myself. But mostly for clients. Which means I mostly despise them.
Good night!