For those of you who do not personally know me, I am an interior design student who 75% of the time possesses the qualities of a zombie. My passion for design comes alive at the black of night and pulls me into my studio work; thus, resulting in vampire-like characteristics and days of no sleep. It’s imperative that I tell you how entertaining it is to be delirious.
I swung hard, hitting three all nighters last week to work on my Pre-Design document. After 3 restless nights, my sanity level went right down the hole with Alice in Wonderland. So, logically, a night out on the town was the spoon full of sugar I was craving. I spent Thursday and Friday night embracing a bottle of my favorite vino and indulged in dilusions of sleep. Come Saturday morning, I was starring into the back of my eye lids, fabricating excuses to keep me in bed and not studio. 1) Obama is president 2) I’m not Mark Zuckerberg 3) PF Changs doesn’t deliver and 4) the Asians aren’t at the library yet. Needless to say, I slept all day.
I spent my Saturday night solo with my pre-design document, listening to drunken behavior outside my loft apartment, which looks over the bar scene of town. Screeching voices yelling “I just want Jimmy John's” or a guy chuckling at his friend who just face planted into something that appears to be amusing, truly makes my life more satisfying to know that for one night…I’m not “that” girl. Bet you didn’t get a blocked phone call Saturday night did you? Self. Control.
Anyway, it quickly became a late night when I realized it was 6 a.m. and time for a break. I don’t recall my brain instructing my fingers to type www.facebook.com, but before I knew it I was jumping into my Barbie dream world of online socializing. I began facebooking (dictionary debut coming soon) with a Landscape architecture buddy about how ridiculous it is that we torture ourselves into a state of mind that doesn’t even recognize the difference between Sarah Palin and Jackie O: two women recognized for standing up and having a voice. One is famous for her classic glamour and positive influence while the other is famous for her excessive vocal media attention, causing Alaskans to drink more heavily, resulting in an increase in alcoholic problems statewide in 2006. All I hear when you talk are nails on a chalk board. You sport cute specs, so surely they have something to fix that nose in Alaskaaaaaaa.
Saturday night ended early with a big bang for your buck studio marathon that continued into Sunday. Sunday’s highlights are smushed in with today’s and now I find myself in studio, but taking a break to write this. Yes. My priorities are slowly getting in check as the herbal funk of coffee, redbull, and diet coke breath, creates a breathtaking fragrance that even Wet Seal would put on clearance. And while the concept of dropping out of school to join the fabulous life of paparazzi sounds more promising every second, being delirious is only temporary…at least until next Sunday.
Today in studio 7, I turned in my Pre-Design Document for my senior project. I will blog soon and explain what I have chosen to design. In the past, several students have woken up on Christmas morning with a letter saying “Merry Christmas and I’m sorry but you failed studio 7…see you next year. Love your caring teacher.” What’s it going to take for that letter to NOT be delivered, Santa? All I want is my name engraved on the sidewalk. Geez.
The anticipation of graduation and my name being carved on the side walk along side other graduates of the University of Arkansas is going to be surreal moment for me and my whole family. However Mr. Chancellor, I am starting to get anxiety that sidewalk space will run out inches before my name. It’s not the yellow brick road Toto…it’s going to stop and I better have a spot. Between you, me, and the 2 other people that actually read this blog, one being my mom, and the other my only fan follower, who wishes to remain nameless, I would like to propose a solution to this problem. Continuing the names of graduates down Dickson Avenue would actually make more sense than putting them on a sidewalk that runs through campus. A majority of our students, me not being one of them, spend more time on Dickson in their 4-8 years here then actually on the non-smoking perimeter of campus. Just saying.
As I think about leaving, my heart will always belong to my home boy Dickson.