Category Archives: annoyances

An Art School Education Doesn’t Mean I’m Stupid

I like to jokily put myself down about my art school education sometimes. I think it comes from societies impression that art school isn’t really “an education” and seriously, how hard is it to get an art degree? Don’t you just paint pretty pictures or something there? Paint the color wheel?

Yes, I went to art school. I also happened to go to an art school that had an emphasis on a future career and giving me the technical knowledge to pursue it. Personally I felt it would be a giant waste of time and money to go to a four-year university where I honestly see people waste their time and money studying pointless subject matters and having no idea what they want to do. I didn’t feel the need to party for four years and why get a pointless degree or go somewhere that I didn’t “need to” declare a major/focus for awhile?

My senior year of high school I decided, after visiting a few universities, that I wanted to pursue the art field. At the time I thought animation would be the route for me since I liked drawing. Sure, I changed majors a year and a half later to web design, but the path I decided to take would eventually end up with the training necessary for a technical job. When my brother visited that Christmas he told me I was “shooting myself in the foot” by not going to a four-year and I was “wasting my time.” The more people put down art school the more I wanted to go just to prove them all wrong.

I guess what irritates me the most is when people jokingly throw out the “art school major” as though it can excuse my mistakes or anything about me. Sometimes I’ll joke back and not get offended. Especially if I started it. What gets under my skin is when my friends who’ve done the four-year thing say these things to me. Especially the ones who had no direction and got some bullshit degree which isn’t serving them any good and nothing to do with the career path they’re on at the moment and don’t want to be. Just throwing out the “well, you are an art major” at me since I’ve said it before in the past is a sure fire way to get on my shit list which, if you hadn’t read my blog before, is a place you’ll stay for awhile.

Sure at art school I learned to paint the color wheel in my second quarter. How else would I know how to mix RGB to make secondary colors? I learned color theory and the psychology behind colors. I learned about shapes and how important they are. I learned so much about design and how it affects the world around us all. The art school education enriched me and, again, gave me the tools I needed to go out there and get jobs I feel passionate about.

I have two art degrees and did have to do some general education classes. I also assure you that I worked hard and had a 4.0 GPA both times in art school. Does it help knowing I took IB and AP classes in high school? Does that somehow prove my intelligence? There wasn’t a quarter that didn’t go by that I wasn’t on the Honor Roll and (usually) President’s List. I know I’m tooting my own horn but I get defensive about this subject. I’m not stupid. I’m actually pretty bright

The next time you insult my education I dare you to go enroll in art school and see how “easy” it is. Frankly I think the four-year university is on the whole a lot “easier” than the intense education I was provided. Get insulted at that statement and you’ll know how you’re dismissal of my intelligence and degrees feels.

So you, who thinks the art education is a cake walk, go enroll and learn. Then come and talk to me and tell me how easy it is. I dare you. I’ll be waiting.

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No Longer a Majestic Panther

As you might remember for my Coast to Coast move I used to be the owner of a majestic Florida panther plate.

Emphasis on used to be.

so majestic
just looking at it fills my eyes with tears

I know that I have been back in Washington since this past summer and should, technically, already have a Washington plate since I’m a resident. Trust me, I know these things. I think the avoidance comes in part from the psychological damage of getting a license plate in Florida and also I’m cheap and had my Florida plate and tabs valid until March of this year. It’s the small things I do to “screw over” the states I live in.

I have mentioned before about the “living in sin” in the south and what a giant pain getting my Florida plates and license was. Even now a year and a half later I still get the chills thinking about it. It was the first time I had transferred my information to another state (while in Arizona I was a student thus did not have to become a resident) so naturally that meant I didn’t know what the (pardon the language) fuck I was doing. This coupled with the whole, again, sin and judgement factor I got for living with my boyfriend OUT OF WEDLOCK in the south just… the idea of having to do the whole process again sounded less appealing then the nine cavities I had drilled this fall.

I’ve had so many good times with my Florida panther plate as well so didn’t want to give them up yet. My brother and I constantly joked around about it calling it “so proud” and “majestic” whenever we’d see it. When one of us was driving like a jackass in a slightly aggressive fashion we’d joke that the cars we’d pass (or Mark cut off) would claim it’s an honor to be cut-off/passed/etc off by such a proud panther.

I know my family is weird. Trust me, I know.

So here I am, the Monday before Christmas, and already upset before this whole situation went down. Looking back I can’t even remember why I was upset (probably the little things getting to me) that day since I had a blast seeing Avatar with a group of people. Afterwards I curled up into bed and watched some Law and Order: SVU before going to sleep. I was falling asleep fast, ladies and gentlemen, curled up in a ball of warmth and enjoyment that SVU provides –

– until my brother got home and text me asking me if my license plate was stolen.

Great.

Rushing upstairs I went outside and, sure enough, my license plate and screws had been stolen off my car that had been parked on the street. I’d like to say I handled the situation in a level-headed fashion and calmly went inside after seeing this but of course I didn’t. I burst into tears right there on the street (remember the little things) as I stared at the naked back of my car and wondered who the hell honestly steals license plates off of people’s cars? Right before Christmas?!

I went into the house sobbing and swearing. I demanded my brother answer me who would do this thing? Who would steal someone’s license plate right before Christmas? Didn’t they know that fate/whatever was already having a shitfest on me and the license plate was the last thing I needed? Mark, in his typical doctor level-headed-ness, assured me that it wasn’t the end of the world and to calm down.

Since that is exactly what you want to hear when you’re sobbing and upset.

I called my Mom, still in tears, to tell her of my misfortune (it now being 11:30pm) and ask her what to do now. Once she woke up from her dreamland stupor she informed me that I needed to call the police and inform them of the plate being stolen. Now, I don’t know if my Mom is super paranoid because of her job but she can sometimes be convinced that everything will be linked to a crime. She suspected (as did all of her co-workers) that the plate was probably stolen so that someone committing a crime could use it on their stolen car.

My majestic panther was going to be corrupted. Awesome.

So I called the non-emergency police number to report the plate stolen and I seriously think the operator thought I was a nut-job due to how upset I sounded. She took down my information and, half an hour later, another person at the police station called and took down all my information so that a police report could be filed.

I wish I could say that this is the end of the story but it’s not. I don’t know how many of you have had your plates stolen before but getting your plates replaced when you don’t have any? Kind of a major pain in the butt. It’s like a life lesson in “you should really replace your out of state plates asap” that I hope you learn from my mistakes. The following morning was spent calling the Florida licensing office to report the plate stolen, calling the Washington licensing office to figure out what they needed of me, calling my car financing to get a copy of the title, etc.

Again, I don’t think I can put enough emphasis on the point you should learn from my laziness and “sticking it to the state” of not replacing my plate and tabs until they expired: just replace them within a month of moving. Else you might lose your majestic panther and your heart will fill with bitterness.

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Holiday Pet Peeves

In my adult life I’ve never been a fan of Christmas. I think the holiday pretty much got ruined when I was sixteen and an exchange student in Japan. I think I have mentioned it before but I went to Hiroshima on Christmas Day 2001. Something about seeing the stuff about the A-bomb and the message in the visitors log of “All Americans should die” kind killed the day for me. Every year I try to pep myself up and get excited and, when I manage it, tend to get disappointed by all the hype and sometimes (I can selfishly admit) gifts given.

Now, don’t get offended those who have given me gifts. They are appreciated and very much loved! But a few rotten gifts and lack of care on some people’s parts make me drag my heels when it comes to Christmas shopping for others and I’m like “shoot me now and end my misery.”

I’m a regular Grinch, Scrooge, brat, and “unappreciative” (fill in any other adjectives you’ve thought of here my dear reader) and nothing has really been able to change it for years. Label me what you will but I know these things about myself.

Here is a breakdown of my peeves and why I’m a giant opinionated Grinch:

Christmas music everywhere. I get that ’tis the season to be jolly but seriously? I don’t like going into different stores and having the same peppy Christmas music blasting away when, if wanted, I could have stayed a store ten stores back and heard the exact same song. Or downloaded the damn thing on iTunes. True I have a soft spot for the traditional soft-tempo Christmas pieces (typically those religious ones which, being Agnostic, what the f*ck?) but I don’t need to hear the latest tween belting out deck the halls everywhere I go.

Gift Cards. I get how gift cards are typically a very easy gift solutions. Heck, I know I’ve given out a few in my time! Like my Dad (who is technologically impaired thus I don’t have to worry about him reading this) is getting one since the book he really wanted isn’t out until April. My biggest pet peeve about gift cards though is if I get them from someone who is really close to know and/or knows me well. Like family or friends. Something about a gift card spells “I didn’t want to think about it” or “didn’t want to put in the effort.” The impersonal nature of it pisses me off if I know you really well. I appreciate gift cards when given but I can’t help feeling like sometimes they’re giant cop outs by my friends who forgot about me till last minute.

Colored Lights. As Christmas lights have been going up everywhere I find myself really disliking houses that have the multi-color display. Something about it spells tacky to me. In reflection I think it is due to the houses that (typically) do multi-color lights are more willing to pull out all the stops and go overboard on their Christmas displays thus leaving me equal parts horrified and amazed. Especially the houses that look like Santa threw up everywhere in their yard. This weekend I went driving with one of my friends in search of the most tacky light displays and managed not to narrow it down by house but rather ranking NEIGHBORHOODS with their overabundance of holiday “cheer”.

The crowds. I can own up that I haven’t done any Christmas shopping yet (well, minus two gifts; one of which being a gift card which I HATE myself for). Why is that? I loath the Christmas crowds. Something about this time of year when we’re suppose to love our fellow man makes people raging a-holes who would sooner ram me with a cart since I’m in the way of their prize. Seriously people, I’m pretty passive when shopping. Ask me to move and spare my hips the indignity of shopping cart bruises.

The religion down my throat. I will leave this one at that and just say: isn’t this a time of peace and understanding? No matter what my beliefs?

People coming out of woodwork. While I love my friends dearly there are a select few that kind of come back into my life around the holidays and start talking gift giving with me. To that I ask: where were you the other eleven months of the year? Why don’t you spare yourself the hassle of buying me a gift (or most likely a gift card) and buy yourself something instead. You can even put a tag on it saying “From, Anne” and I’ll do the same for myself. This is also true with the awkward gifts you weren’t expecting and suddenly you’re like “shit, I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts this year and now I feel like a colossal jackass for not getting you something.”

Finding the “perfect” gift. My problem is that I obsess over trying to figure out something that people will really love. I wish I could be lazy like a lot of people and not care. One year I got my friend in Oklahoma and most random (and impractical) array of gifts just because of random conversations we’ve had and inside jokes we had shared. They weren’t the most practical gifts but you know what? She loves that Rainbow Bright backpack and it definitely sticks out in her mind. I bog myself down with trying to please people and do, typically, manage to find random awesome gifts but usually by the end I get so burnt out I’m like “tell me what to get so I don’t have to think.”

The parties and “let’s hang out!”. This is also a phenomenon that I notice when you’re about to move and/or it’s your birthday. It totally goes back to the “people coming out of the woodwork” and suddenly remembering you exist and that you’re potentially cool. An invite would have been cool the other eleven-months of the year, too. Thanks for remembering me during the holidays, I guess?

Stress making people dicks. Something about all the gift giving, family together-ness, copious amounts of alcohol, and potentially not being able to focus solely on yourself makes some people jerks in the holiday season. I know I can be a jerk when stressed out. I also know my tolerance of people gets very limited around this time of year and I kind of retreat into myself and won’t talk. Of course, right now I’m kind of a dull “I hate everyone, especially you” mood as I write this so perhaps the stress is getting to me. That and I’m past the point of caring. Just take a chill pill people and count down the days until the holidays are over and our regularly scheduled program returns.

Holiday cards. I suck at sending these. A few years ago I went the full nine yards and decorated my own Christmas cards but got discouraged by my Mom from sending them (what is not to love about Santa in a pimp hat pimping out a reindeer and elf on the street corner? Seriously). I think the “farthest” I got was last year where I had cards in envelopes but didn’t have stamps and shit, it’s now the new year. And look, it’s the end of January. Don’t get me wrong, I do like getting cards (since one of my hobbies is collecting greeting cards, weirdly enough) but it heightens my sense of guilt over my inability to mail a letter. Again perhaps blame Japan since the only form of communication I had to America was writing letters and I made BIG productions of illustrating them and writing PAGES before I could send them. I’m still burnt out on letters thanks to that.

There you have it. I’m a giant Grinch or Scrooge who needs to be visited by the Ghosts of Christmas. Perhaps that would help with my lack of holiday cheer. Or not.

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