A jumbled up bunch of stuff.

Today it feels like my face is puffy and misshapen, but we're going to write that off to the fact that it is winter and my nose is dripping and I only have class seven more times this semester. Yay! Well...a little bit "Yay!", and a little bit "Fuck!"

I'm not quite ready to do a semester in review yet, but I will be.  It'll happen at some point, and when it does, I hope that it'll be deeply interesting.  Deeply interesting to people who, you know, care.
I'm writing a book next weekend, you know.  It's gonna be awesome.   The same kind of awesome that you feel when you are doing something incredibly hard but incredibly fulfilling, where it sucks in the moment, but looking back, everything was right and you were so alive, right then.
I want to feel alive.  I want that part of me to wake up again.

Sometimes (a lot of the time, all the fucking time) I wonder if i should pursue just writing and ditch design.  I worry that I might like writing more than design, and that if I do, what am I doing with my life.  Then I remember identifying every visible car when I was fourteen, I remember discovering Apartment Therapy and midcentury modern and being able to put a name and a face to the styles I loved, and realizing that the kitchen table when I was little?  That was a Saarinen.  Both are right for me, I think, and I'll probably ping-pong between the two for the rest of my life, with a little outdoorsyness thrown in, for good measure.

It's good to get squares together.  I have four squares left.  I'm going to conquer the beast.  Also, I tweeted my thousandth tweet today.  How's that for some alliteration up in hurr?

My APUSH teacher referred to the test as conquering the beast.  Like, "On May 7th, you will go into room 160, and you will conquer the beast."
I think it sucks that I was born during AP's, and in a time that first communions frequently fall on, especially given the Catholicism of my dad's side of the family, and the Protestantism of my own family.  I went to first communion parties on my birthday, more than once.
We're getting off topic now.  I need to study so that I don't fail Art History and die sad and alone.  That's what happens to you if you fail Art History.

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