Category: ultrapersonal

Christmas-Eve Eve, and I still hate Christmas. Basically, I like Thanksgiving a lot better than Christmas. I love spending time with my family, and I love getting away for a day or two, but Thanksgiving doesn’t get in the way of my day-to-day craziness the way Christmas does. Christmas is the source of so much more obligation that it takes away all the fun of showering people with love. Bah humbug. But love to all.

Special shout-outs to people who sent me really sweet Christmas cards or messages. I’m sorry that my phone phobia has spread to e-mail and cards lately, and I haven’t responded properly. Big hugs to all you guys.

I did have a great Christmas party at work last week, though. Perhaps the first official Christmas party for work I’ve ever attended that I actually liked. There are many benefits to working at a small, friendly company where you like everyone. One of them is not the oft-repeated question about whether or not I have someone to bring to the Christmas party. Aside from the general sting of being reminded that I don’t have anyone to bring, it makes me glad that I haven’t settled down in Connecticut like everyone else there, however.

But I did bring my friend Adam to see the Candy Butchers at Brownie’s the other night. In case you know who the Candy Butchers are, rest assured that it was a great, fun show. If you don’t know, you should learn to love them like I do.

We kicked ass on Friday. Fragile was a huge success at our presentation to the Pratt faculty. We dressed down for the presentation to make it look like we were in the midst of moving (that was the point of the book, after all), and I threw in a little editorial commentary by wearing a t-shirt that read “I HATE DOING THIS SHIT.” I don’t know how many of the faculty realized how much editorializing I was actually doing, but I suspect hat the chairman of the department got the point.

So I end my second illustrious attempt at graduate school with a similar record as the first — A solid “A” to match every incomplete. Except I’m letting those incompletes turn into failures at Pratt, because I don’t think I’ll be needing a transcript again. And if I do, I’m willing to explain why I aced upper-level courses and failed basic requirements.

I ran into Mel Byars, the professor for my “History of Communication Design” course, who was wondering why I stopped going to class after Thanksgiving, missing the second paper and the final class presentation. I explained my desire to devote what little time I had to my studio class, and he told me that my first paper (on Piet Zwart) was the best in the class, and that he wanted me to submit it to the Pratt library, which inexplicably had no reference material on Zwart. so he thanked me for being a pleasure in class, and urged me to send the paper in to the Pratt librarian. Pretty good for a failure, I guess.

The only real disappointment of the day was that I realized that this one really handsome guy I’d been seeing around the Puck Building was one of the CommD faculty, and I never got to talk to him, even though I think he’s been checking me out. Maybe he was just smiling at the t-shirt, though. Oh well, another day, another lost opportunity.

My brain hurts too much to think properly right now. If my last semester of grad school has taught me anything, I have learned:

• I am much too old and weary to pull all-nighters. Last night I went to bed after 36 straight hours of school work, regular work, wandering around in the rain to find a Kinko’s whose Fiery printer was working, and being generally miserable.
• Group projects can really blow chunks. A corollary to this: When you spot a bad apple at the beginning of the semester, you know he won’t rally at the end.
• Group projects can also help you bond really well with people you like. Many thanks to my fellow survivor’s of Fragile.
• Pratt really needs to get its shit together.

In other news, I’m loving work despite the sleep deprivation. God only knows if I’ll be able to get to work tomorrow, seeing as there’s a threat of a city-wide transit strike. I’ll probably have to ride my bike to Grand Central, and I bet the streets are gonna look like Beijing.

If the MTA goes on strike, I think we’ll see a lot of people beating the crap out of transit workers.

P.S.: I hate Christmas.

In my cold-induced delerium last week I failed to notice that Friday was not the 13th, but actually the 12th, so there is no superstitious reason for my counter resetting. Now I just know I lost count after all that traffic. Pain in the butt.

But not a pain as big as the one in my throat. Thanks to the effects of a week-long bout of a runny nose, my tonsils have swollen to impossible new dimensions. It feels like I’m choking on a pair of eggs. At least they don’t seem to actually be infected. I can’t wait for the day when I have the time to rip these babies the hell out!

I drive again tomorrow. Clear the streets!

I drove a car for the first time last night. In case anyone needs to justify their fear of driving in New York, let me point out that my driving school had no qualms about putting me behind the wheel for the first time at night, during the tail end of rush hour, and making me drive around the maze-like, pedestrian-filled streets of the West Village. This did not do very good things for my frazzled nerves. Obviously, this driving thing is gonna take some time for me to get the hang of. I can understand now why people suggest starting out in a big, open parking lot. Every time I was trying to get the feel for how fast or slow the damn thing would go, or how much it would actually turn in response to how I turned the steering wheel, there was suddenly a cab’s headlights in my peripheral vision, and some guy walking a dog in front of me.

I was feeling very fragile when it was all over. If I were you, I’d stay away from that neighborhood at 10:00 next Thursday, when I have my second lesson.

I hate it when I don’t pick up new things right away. But it’s high time I tackled this driving thing once and for all.

In case you’ve been following the story, I would like to confirm that I have indeed taken a full-time job again. I am leaving behind grad school and my assortment of freelance jobs to work as a “Product support specialist” for Miles 33 International. That job title doesn’t really describe what I’ll be doing very well, but let me just say that it looks to be the closest I’ve gotten yet to knitting together my twin fixations on graphic design and hardcore computer stuff. (Web site design just doesn’t cut it, in my book.) Among other things that are more difficult to describe, I’ll eventually do something about that unfortunate web site of theirs. As an added perk (a very comfortable salary and interesting work being the main advantages), I’ll get to do a bunch of travelling. Whoopee! Kansas, here I come! Actually, even though some domestic travel would be a nice change of pace, I really have my fingers crossed for a couple of opportunities to get back down to south America. I’m also looking forward to having good health and dental insurance again, and freeing myself from the shackles of debt.

No, I will not be moving to Connecticut to be near the office in Darien — I will take the train. Yes, I am finally getting my driver’s license. (Ah, the passing of an era…) No, The Kanes and I will not be abandoning MegaTINY. Yes, I am quitting grad school.

As a treat in honor of all this. I bought myself a DVD player. Mmmmmmmm, sexy…

An online journal is a stupid thing for me to try, considering how much I prefer to just keep my mouth shut about my life. I suppose it’s another attempt to make myself be a little more candid. Catch me at the right time and I’m actually quite chatty about what’s on my mind, but I admit to a certain self-consciousness about being as fickle as I am. I find it a little embarrassing to explain why I change my mind about big things so often. I try, though, to keep in mind the wise words of my friend Casey: “Life is a journey. Whatever.” Considering the sheer force of will it takes for me to conquer this little quirk and be straightforward about things, I also get frustrated when that effort is not reciprocated. (The gentlemen to whom I am referring may never see this page, but just in case…)

Latest developments: Following up on a rare opportunity that presented itself when I went to Baltimore in October, I’ve been interviewing for a job with a software company in Darien, Connecticut. I figured it was time to buckle down and accept the commute and the regular schedule in exchange for a big enough slary boost to get myself the hell out of debt once and for all. I don’t mean to sound so cynical — I wouldn’t take the job if I didn’t think I’d have fun and learn a lot. I’ll get to travel a lot, they’ll pay for my lunch every day, and I’ll take another step down that long, unmarked road toward integrating my computer nerd side with my art fag side.

And it gives me a good excuse to tell Pratt to “fuck off” once and for all. As much as I enjoy the classes I’ve been taking, I also realize that I’ve spent thousands of dollars and an aggravating amount of time on two semesters of graduate school during I learned almost nothing new of any substance. Pratt’s program is good, but I have too much experience as a designer to get much out of it when I can only concentrate on it part-time. It feels more like an arts-and-crafts camp with a lot of work more than anything else. I’ll almost certainly learn more stuff at this new job about the particular design/technology issues that interest me than I would have from getting my degree in design, anyway.

We’ll see, I suppose. Wish me luck.

Oh, one more thing. I just saw the film Last Night, which was pretty good and raised an interesting question: If you knew for certain that the world was going to end at a specific time, what would you want to be doing at that time? I’m still considering my choices.

Today’s long-overdue journal entry is gratefully dedicated to my long-time pal Joe, who I don’t see or talk to often enough to show how great I think he’s always been and how much I’ve always admired him. And I don’t say that because he’s the only person who’s ever written me to let me know he reads this stuff regularly and to complain that I’m not more diligent with my updates.

Joe, to answer your question in the briefest, least-bitter manner possible: The weekend before the last time I visited you and your lovely family (a much-needed escape which was thrown back in my face on more than one occasion), I was informed that my then-boyfriend was deeply unhappy with our relationship and was falling for someone else. We tried to sort things out as best we could, but I was subsequently dumped on Valentine’s Day, and “some three months of anguish and unpaid rent later” I was finally living by myself again. so I decided there was little reason left for me to stay in the slanty shanty in Fort Greene when I’d rather be living in a more spacious loft in Williamsburg. Though I certainly share the blame for all the many reasons things didn’t work out between he and I, I don’t think he handled the situation well once he chose the other fellow over me. I’ll give you the full story some day if you catch me in the right mood.

In other news, I’m officially going nuts with work now that school is in full swing again. Today, as a matter of fact, I’m battling the anxiety over having to write an art history paper for the first time in about seven years. Even though I write as much in the average day as I need to for this paper, the burden of having to write something is making me nuts. But I’ve had some great projects at Thirteen lately, the class I’m teaching this semester seems to be a good group, and megaTINY’s world domination looms closer and closer, so things are OK. Even if they’re a bit hectic.

OK, back to the innovative career of Piet Zwart: Typotekt!

I never thought I’d say it, but I’ve really come to appreciate the efficient bureauocracy at B.U. Pratt really seems to have its head up its own asshole when it comes to administration issues. There are no signs on any of the buildings on the Brooklyn campus, which makes it impossible to find anything, since there are also no maps on display. Even though I was already an employee, I didn’t get paid until september for teaching all summer because they couldn’t find my payroll paperwork. I can’t tell the bursar that I want health coverage when I settle my bill, because first I have to sign up in some office in one of those unmarked buldings somewhere. Grad school is enough of a pain. All this dumb running around to try and figure the place out just make it worse.