- Current Mood: optimistic
- Current Mood: tired
- Current Mood: angry
I feel strangely free. I’ve dropped a class, written a letter to the dean of my program, and otherwise engaged in “bad” social behavior, being the squeaky wheel and refusing to do something that does not mesh with my feelings about who I am and how I should behave.
So in short, I have said a very proper and professional “fuck you” to a teacher that refused to enable her students, and have decided to go for the greener pastures of next quarter and different instructor. It feels good and reassuring to know that I will not destroy my future by standing up and doing what I feel is right, despite my initial trepidation. I have lost all of the stress that was affecting my other classes negatively.
The dean even sent a copy (with my name removed) of the letter to my business teacher and my computer teacher (the one I complained about) and my business teacher guessed it was me. He then congratulated me on the professionalism of the letter, and added that it was very well written. It feels good and validating.
- Current Mood: bouncy
Artists and writers, mostly. Mucha (art nouvou changed the way i drew forever) , Aimee Mageer (used to follow her art school animation projects and marvel at her character drawing skills) , the old 1960's "how to draw" books (mostly things like "cartoon animation" they taught me about getting a good grasp on three dimensional drawing), so many individual peices by different artists whos names are forever now lost to me (thanks to Elfwood and Deviant Art), Lovecraft (for inspiring me to write again with how utterly amazing the dream cycle was), Anne Rice (for her lush descriptions) , Anne McAfree (for being my fantasy/scifi gateway drug).
why is it a fuck you? let me explain. the meal itself is bread and cheese with fruit. a meal i often suggested but always got told was too expensive. erm... nope it wasn't. the cheese? Dubliner... my X's fave which he never shared. to boot it was wrapped in a pink wrapper for Susan G Colman breast cancer, and part of the sale went to them. he hated them because he thought it wasn't worth it and took away form men's cancer awareness. The chutney? mango. which the other woman was allergic to. the cider? non alcoholic. and while i have no objection to drinking these days, it seems deliciously perverse to celebrate without it. and the thing i am celebrating? an accomplishment he never had in all his "writerly" endeavors. a finished fucking novel. To quote Kevin Smith: "Feels good, Sir" *grin*