Monday, October 11, 2004
I desperately need to stop blogging every day. No one in their right (or wrong) mind would want to read this much stuff, especially when so much of it has been about baseball or football lately. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I can't help it.
So I just thought I'd check in today and drop a quick note about how swimmingly everything is going.
And if you bought that, I have a bridge to sell you.
Yes, in true college style, everything is going to hell in a lopsided freshman fibers student's handbasket. I have so much work that it is becoming truly ridiculous. How I can have more work than last year when I'm taking less credits is something that will forever be beyond my ability to comprehend. And don't even start on me for not doing homework right this very moment. I have five wire sculptures sitting on my floor and I'm waiting for the damn paint on them to dry. My professor is a sadist and is making us work with coathanger wire. If there ever was a wire that more stubbornly resisted forming I have yet to run across it. I now have white spray paint all over my hands, and I'm fully prepared for that lovely 'permanent brain and nervous system damage' promised on the can.
Drawing this morning was as tolerable as analytical drawing can be. I suppose it will be good to know these things (how to use french curves, how to make orthographic and true perspective drawings, etc.). I can't help being galled by the fact that I will be coming out of the class with nothing I could put in a portfolio, though. I'm a little bit ahead of much of the class, mostly because I *cough*estimated some measurements*cough* instead of measuring down to the exact 1/32ndth of an inch. Look, when you're working with a regular pencil, they can't fault you for not getting any more precise than 16ths, right? Right?
I nearly passed out at the end of class and had a severe burst of nausea on the bus ride home. These were the latest in about a week-long string of dizzy, faint and nauseous spells. I couldn't make myself eat lunch, but I did force myself to go to chordate anatomy, since I might miss Friday's lecture to fly home (thank the school administrators for Fall Break!). I then decided that I couldn't take it any longer and, swallowing my pride, went to UHS (University Health Services).
They actually handled the whole thing much better than I had expected. I went in around 2:30 and got a 4 o'clock appointment, which was not nearly so bad as I had worried it would be. Perhaps I simply wasn't there at a rush time. Perhaps I would have been more annoyed if I had to wait that long and was suffering from, say, severe diarrhea, instead of a constant and infinitely irritating but low-grade malaise.
The problem? I am apparently overworked (gee, you think?), dehydrated (but I managed to talk them out of IV fluids, thank cats), and suffering from some mild virus they couldn't do much about. Delight. My mother thinks it might be the result of too much iron, because of those multi vitamins I take.
The upshot of all this is that I am forbidden from eating meats, dairy products, whole grains, raw fruits, or raw vegetables. This leaves... rice, plain pasta, and canned fruit. Mmm. Lucky me. And while I did manage to weasel myself out of getting hooked up to an IV, they still insisted on drawing blood for some tests. Bugger. I hate needles, you realize. And it's much worse when the needle is hooked up to a little tube, and the tube is DRAWING YOUR LIFEBLOOD OUT OF YOUR VEINS. The nurse (lab worker lady?) put an enormous wrap-around bandage on my arm, so I feel like some kind of gunshot wound victim.
And, because you just knew you weren't getting away without this coming up... can I just mention how completely, utterly destroyed my mind is at the prospect of the Yankees/Red Sox American League Championship Series? I can barely think of anything else. It is all Red Sox, all the time in my fevered little brain. I am so. frikking. excited. And yet! So. frikking. worried. If this virus thing wasn't already laying me low, the horrible combination of painfully happy anticipation and crippling fear would have done so. God, just thinking about it is making me want to vomit back my bland dinner of white rice and plain noodles.
So what's good? Well, the Lions did win, and the Patriots did get the record. And Michigan won. And the Red Sox game tomorrow will be, in its own stress-inducing way, great. Friday I fly home for a few days. There are tentative plans in the works for next year's living arrangements. Brad stopped over again today to rehash Sunday's Lions game. I discovered yet another art student who shares my disdain for the 'sororartists'. The weather is pretty damn nice right now. This Astros/Braves game has been pretty good so far (I want the Astros to win, because I feel bad for them, and because they released Roger Clemens from his MFY status). I got a workable idea for the next show at the WORK gallery that I can start working on whenever all these assignments slow down a little.
If you'll pardon me, I'm going to go rub irritably at my bandage and poke my wire things to see if they're dry yet. Good night, kids.