I started working at a craft retail store. i'm not going to mention which for some reasons that are proabably paranoia based, but it's easier to find people in a small town than in a large town so I try to be a little more aware of how much info I'm putting out there.
Anyhow, I work about 25 hours a week and go to school full time. My f**king feet hurt. But we don't make enough with loans and freelance. Anyhow. You do what you have to do.
It's not too bad. I get a 15% discount on top of the sales price. kick ass.
I thought I had more of an entry, but think that's it for now.
Michael and I go to his parents house to play cards. They are elderly and really cards is about all we have in common. They always have Fox News blaring in the background and its a special kind of hell when you are losing at cards, getting taunted, and listening to *that* network.
I am a fairly animated and passionate person when it comes to ideas and going there sometimes feels like swallowing my tongue and harboring it in my solar plexus. Super bad.
They make comments like "... I can't believe I'm part of the greatest generation..." Which makes me want to scream. As if. Seriously? What a perfect example of what's wrong with that generation. You can think that your generation was better than the ones that fought for independence? How about freeing the Africans from American slavery? How about factors that shouldn't qualify you for the 'greatest generation' status? Like the Nuclear bomb? How about the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki?
Yesterday, I brought my history homework for my mid term studying while we were taking a break between hands, and they ask me what I'm studying and I tell them vaguely "dates" because they can't handle what I'm studying in history. I am studying the dates and geographic locations of 36 countries where the U.S. has interfered in the politics of a sovereign government in order to perpetuate their own capitalistic desires or create a more favorable world political climate.
So, I gave them a little taste. Why must I take the bait? Seriously?
I told them of a particular atrocity that has given me nightmares. To which my FIL responded in defense of his fellow servicemen. I told him that didn't fly with me because my professor has a PhD in history and is an ex marine- veteran, as well.
Then of course it was that there was something wrong with my professor.
My FIL insisted that if there was no photographic proof, then it didn't happen. that it was propaganda and that was that.
It got much more heated, he was being a loud bully, so I told him I couldn't talk to him because he wasn't having a conversation, he was just being close minded and 'drinking the kool-aid'... and I walked out on the front porch and cooled down before I totally let him have it.
I walked back in, and Michael, who had been on the phone, had taken up where I left off and told him to stuff it. Michael's poor mom, I felt so bad, because she hates when we get into politics... it's never good.
FIL went on again about how there was no photographic proof, it was propaganda. I told him that there was no photographic proof of Christ on the cross either, but he believes that. How many things do we believe that we don't have photographic proof of.
A couple of times I had to tell him not to wag his finger at me, I'm not a child, and not to raise his voice at me either. Michael stuffed the argument and we continued playing cards.
Alas. I enjoyed having in laws that liked me.... for a while.
I am always seeking.
Recently I have decided to drop Biology because it was 2 classes (lecture and lab) because I am going back to work while I go to school.
I have also had some sort of crazy pottery awakening where I am finally reminded of how much I loved pottery. I finally have my skill back, and I would say even more.
I have a piece of mine that is showing in a local art event. I hope to generate some business with it. It's the piece that I had as a profile pic on my facebook.
I am starting to draw designs for pots in the margins of my notes during class because I can't seem to make them fast enough. My pieces are starting to look like something I've never made before.
I have been starting to question my major. I don't like this because I would love to double major, but this school doesn't have the option to double major without a big mess.
Since we don't know which school will accept Michael for his doctorate, and I don't know what my program will look like there, I am taking a weird semester next semester.
I will be taking: sewing, so that I can make my own clothes because i pretty much dislike the current fashion trends, and things never fit me right. Large breasts are a blessing, but a fashion curse.
I will also be taking a wheel class, hopefully a studio course where i get my own studio and create a bunch of stuff...
I will also be taking a religious studies class, it's part of the curriculum here, but really it could just be my own desire to take Buddhism.
I will also be taking a yoga class. Physical therapy for a grade!
I have been having emotional reactions to dance lately. I always wanted to dance as a younger person, wasnt able because my family subscribed to a religion that felt that dancing was sinful. It has marked me. I watch these shows with group dancing and they literally cause me to sob because all I want to do is *that*.
I am trying to reason with my creative half to chill out and wait for my psychology doctorate but i don't know if I can. I may have to be an art teacher. Michael is trying to convince me to change my major because he says that life isn't a dress rehearsal and we only get one chance to do what we came to do. I just don't know. The only reasons that I would be staying in psych is that I do have a natural tendency to understand the material. I have a natural ability to interact with people, and above all... it's safe. it's practical.
what the hell.
it all started with Michael applying to colleges in the UK... specifically Oxford, and I thought that I couldn't get accepted at Oxford as a psych student because I didn't really stand out as a psych student. But as a ceramicist, I can stand out.
and then it became *this*
part of me wants to chide myself and tell me to be realistic. the other part of me says 'jump! go do it! you were never meant to be confined by practicality' we'll have to think about it.