How do you survive college? Better yet how do you survive art school?
I got a job on campus (both university and art school). That helped me with the obligation of actually getting up out of bed and going to university. I was getting paid to. I also had my work schedule synched up on the days where I didn’t have class so I’d go straight to the library after work to either catch up on reading, drawing or studying for a test. Getting a job just helped me to quit the bullshitting around.
Find out what works better for you schedule wise (AM/PM). I did better in evening classes because i’m a night owl so I was more awake and attentive during classes. That, and I also could sleep in during the day and work on last minute things. I would try both AM & PM classes out my first semester of every year since my sleeping habits always changed. So If a certain class didn’t fit me I had the opportunity to change it during the add/drop period. Takes a lot of stress out when you know something is working to your advantage.
Try different things, major/minor wise. See whats employable and enjoyable for you. You might go in thinking you want to do one thing and midway through your junior year you realize you really just wanted to do something else. So try to take one or two different classes “out of the norm.”
Talk to your professors. Let them be aware of your existence, especially art school.
Outside of that, it really depends on what kind of person you are. If you’re a social butterfly, I’d recommend getting involved with your school. Getting into clubs and finding people you can study with in your class. If you’re more anti-social, find a hang out and put yourself into a routine where you don’t get too overwhelmed.
My last serious relationship was back in college, and the only thing “serious” about the relationship is staying the night and waking up in the morning next to that person consistently.
I’ve dated in between there and now. Now let me explain my definition of “dating”. Dating for me isn’t exclusive, it’s usually just somebody I either share the bed or a meal with inconsistently. This is what I have been doing for the past couple of years. Meanwhile, all my inner circle friends have been changing their last name on Facebook due to their recent marriage or packing lunches for their kids first day of school. Whenever we get together one weekend for drinks, I hear about their married life or duties as a mother/father as I just continue sipping my wine awaiting my time to share things on my end. Never once did I feel like I ever had to be on their timeline. That is, until I got into a serious relationship recently.
Things have changed as it seems. Its no longer about just staying the night and waking up the next morning with that person consistently. This is an adult relationship where I have to wear my big girl pants that have been currently collecting dust. Where location matters, income matters, shit in general I never really cared about matters. I see my friends and what they have and how they got there and its intimidating. Is that the same timeline I have to have? Commit, argue, commit, move in, get an animal together, commit, marriage…
I’m still in that college mindset with relationships. Where just being there the next morning is just as big as marriage. I’m okay with my pace and I enjoy the road that I take, but sometimes when I meet those same friends for drinks on the weekend, they somehow still make me feel like i’m going the wrong way and I need to turn around to catch up.
The only thing I know how to commit to properly at 26 years old is a dog.
“When King Lear dies in Act V, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He’s written “He dies.” That’s all, nothing more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is “He dies.” It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with “He dies.” And yet every time I read those two words, I find myself overwhelmed with dysphoria. And I know it’s only natural to be sad, but not because of the words “He dies.” but because of the life we saw prior to the words.”
—Mr. Edward Magorium (Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium)
When your significant other says, "I won't break your heart.."
all you can do is take their word. You can’t look for them to give you ‘The Goonies’ pact. Some kind of contract that reads, “I promise not to shit on your soul, hadouken your heart, rip every shred of your confidence and emotional stability and make you delete every single song on your itunes that reminds you of us while simultaneously shouting cuss words that would make sailors blush.”
You just have to trust them.
Which means you’re going into something with no security that you’re going to be alright. That you’re not coming home with a lemon. Because you know what, there are no refunds. Especially when there’s no receipt or contract saying, “I purchased no heartbreak.”
Thats the thing about love, heartbreak and heartache. The entire shit load is based off of good faith deals. You could go in expecting growth, promise and going the long run with this person and making it there with them. Or you could go in and come home with your heart dragging behind you hitting every stone and shard of glass from their house to your apartment and curl up into a miserable ball of defeat.
I just always hope I won’t be the latter of the two.
I root for the villains even though I know the superhero will prevail. The loss, the damage, the revenge, and then the turn for the worst. I just see beauty in everything ugly that they become. They have nothing to lose because they’ve already lost everything. Give me the crazy, twisted, demented, dark, damaged, ruthless, clever, bitter, broken, revengeful and hateful.
The thing about working at a comic store, I'm constantly tested.
I don’t want to say its because I’m female. Simply because I refuse to believe some of the men that come in my shop are so offended of my boobs and lady part set up that it automatically turns them into dickholes when I kindly say, “If you need help finding anything, or have questions let me know.”
Which for some reason they hear as, “you have no idea what you are doing here you tiny little man, you know nothing of comics, you are not worthy of such reading material which hold ultimate powers of destruction and super strength. Please peasant, get out. Out I say!”
I can understand not wanting somebody selling you comics who has no idea what their talking about. So healthy conversation about something you’re interested in, I welcome. If I’m not too familiar with a character or line of comics I have no problem saying, “I’m not familiar, but (insert coworker) reads them and if you come back (insert coworkers schedule) they’d be more than happy to help you with your needs.” This doesn’t happen too often, I try to read everything that gets put on our shelf not just because I live for comics, but I want to be at my costumers disposal and be efficient for them. Thats good business.
It just takes a toll on me when sometimes arguments ensue with male costumers over comic books and I have no idea where its stemming from. They’ll plow me with trivia waiting for that pristine moment to say, “HA! SEE! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT! WHY DO YOU EVEN WORK HERE!?” But its not always bad, I have a lot of great regulars and a lot of kids that come in who make the job worthwhile. I love that i’m always the first stop before going into work, the little slice of relaxation during lunch break, or the bedtime story they pick up for their kid before catching the train to go home. They make up for the jackasses.