What a creative title. Now you know why I’m in art school. That kind of genius just can’t be wasted.
The leaves are changing energetically and take my breath away with their botanical sunset blazes on my
morning rides into town. The weather turned cold quickly last year, and apparently failed to offer sufficient time between summer and winter for the leaves to display their full glory. The autumn of 2007 found me wondering what all the fuss was about, as the trees faded passionlessly into uninspiring yellows and fickle russets that all too soon gave way to brown and then bare branches. The gradual slope into chilly days and nights we have been enjoying lately seems a more ideal alchemy for firey forests, and so long as no more aggressive showers than those seen in the past day or two shake the leaves loose, I expect to see hillsides glowing fully before frost tips their parent twigs.
This Sunday, Briggs and I plan to sojourn to Laurel State Park to see the Frank Loyd Wright designed home, Falling Water. Also the other one, if we have time. Apparently, it’s less sensational but more livable and efficent, and as a result, obscure. Unfortunately, my beastly and evil place of employment demands upon pain of smiting that I be on the premises by 7pm that same day to attend a pre-holiday meeting where they will tell us to sell books and give great customer service, while pretending that they will actually notice and care if we do so. (I have it on great personal authority that they will not. I am also a bitter person that requires encouragement and approval in amounts nearing those which I need of oxygen. I blame my mother. Had she never hung my good grades on the refrigerator door, perhaps I should lack this malady.) Regardless, I do not see the schedule conflict as a great problem…due to the angle of the sun as the year latens, evening steps on our heals much earlier than it did in months recently past–we may enjoy the afternoon, return before dark and deposit my body before my employers in fair time for the purgatory known by the name of store meeting. They may not have my soul, though! This I avow!
I began this term of courses last week.
So far so good.
Purely by accident I fell into a class taught by the woman who drove me near to fits this summer and I feared the worst, but she seems to be far more capable in this subject than she was in Advanced Typography. She has even shown us many examples and today we enjoyed an in-class critique! And today she told me she really liked my design style. (Whore for praise. Se previous paragraph.)
I am currently in the computer lab awaiting the commencement of my second class of Thursday in which we learn to use the program Illustrator. Which would have benefited me more had I taken it previous to last quarter, but none-the-less, I am learning. I am listening to Counting Crows and the song ‘Colorblind’ just began, sending tingles of joy and trickles of melancholy pouring through my veins and bones. 
I am currently obsessed with the show House. (I blame Jim Foreman.) I began watching it and was immediately, irreparably, hooked. It appeals to me on so many levels! The focus on a diagnostics department with an easily bored head offers a plethora of bizarre diseases and diagnoses (disease has fascinated me since my early childhood) and a smattering of gore to call my morbid side out to play. The writing is quite decent, mixing drama and insanity with tongue-in-cheek humor (I can no longer hear Lupus suggested in diagnosis without giggling.), the cast is good…and of course I am deeply in love with Gregory House. (A brilliant, off-his-nut, arrogant, maverick damaged inside and out with gorgeous eyes, an attitude problem and deeper feelings that are glimpsed only briefly before he re-buries them under sarcasm? I never had a chance.)
I apologize for my use of the word ‘maverick’ in the previous paragraph. There is no excuse for that. I have great plans to strike it from my personal dictionary.
Speaking of which, I got my voter registration card today in the mail. I’m not sure how to feel about it. I have not been part of the voting process before, and I actually cared enough to put out effort this time…but my overall cynicism and lack of faith in the American public prevents me from feeling too much excitement.
I had a political ramble here, but then I recalled my lack of political tendencies and deleted it.
Class has started, and though my teacher isn’t quite the brightest crayon in the box, I should probably pay attention regardless.
I’m a paranoid person. I worry that our teacher monitors everything that we type and now I’m going to flunk.
He is currently showing us the exact same examples he showed us for about an hour last class and giving the same instructions. *sigh*
The computer lab gets really cold so I got some fingerless mittens to wear during class…but even without my fingers covered, typing is more challenging.
