Saturday, November 27, 2004

My crotch itches hardcore.

I am back at RIT. Much too soon for my taste. No one is here except for the foreign dude, the weird girl with the homemade tattoo and Miss T. Miss T is the first human I have talked to in many hours.
I miss my boy.
I was actually happy to be back because my dad was driving me crazy. See Daddy talks a lot and he has an opinion about everything. He states his political opinion very loudly and obnoxiously and he dominates meal time conversation.

What to do? I could go to bed early but I will only wake up early. I could do M&P stuff but I was planning on being a bad ass this week and skipping lab. Cuz its monday at 8 AM and that is no way to start the new quarter. Besides its Professor Evil Bitch Woman this week. I don't need bad juju coming my way so early in the morning.
I wish more people were back to entertain me.
I hope this year I get to enjoy Christmas. I probably won't. People get so jacked up for it and I don't understand what the big hooha is all about.

Monday, November 15, 2004

I finished. Thank god.
I just have to take my M&P final tonight and then I can veg the rest of the week untill my final on friday. Hurray hurray.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Quick tip for y'all: if you're having trouble with a project and you keep fucking up no matter how hard you try to do it right, talk to your prof about it. But make sure you cry. That gets you an extentsion. It makes the rest of your week hell, but it gets you an extentsion.

The end of the quarter at RIT. It fills me with joy. I have a huge project due Thursday that involved the Zone system (fuck you ansel adams) and using the view camera. But I managed to fuck up both of those concepts so many times, I have to reshoot. Thus, I get an extension. See above scenario for more information.
I enjoy school for the most part. I just don't enjoy the end of the quarter. Being an art student has its advantages. I don't have to write silly java programs. I can spend hours and hours in a darkroom.
I just wannna go home.
I wanna go home to a place where no one makes fun of the way that I talk and I get to drink real milk. I can take a shower without having to wear flip flops. It will be good. For about a week. Then I have to come right back here again. Its funny how first instead of here I wrote home. I'm confused about where home is. It feels like both places but more and more at RIT.