Drama. There are days I'm thankful/relieved/overjoyed that I'm no longer seventeen-years-old. I had almost forgotten how deep emotions run until my friends (whom are around and of that age) so pleasantly reminded me. One of them is your classical arrogant stock type sixteen-year-old meat head.

The other, I'm fairly certain, is my payback for all the shit I caused my mother, in the form of a 5' 5" know it all that induces the strangling reflex more often than I like to admit to myself, much less anyone else. Much like an officer whom never served time on the front lines or in the fox holes, but likes to pretend they know everything concerning those times. (So in other words, she could very well be a normal teenager.) Normally, things like this don't bother me too much. I've come to expect it with a lot of my younger friends as that damned right of passage that they get to grow out of with affirmations of just how big of an idiot they were (hey, I did.).

But when someone is fifteen, I'm twenty two, and I've gone through almost six plus months of this at a more often than a lot rate, I was very nearly about to kill her outright with a spork. In hindsight, I think my saving grace with my two older sisters was the fact that I was a blood relation, and mom and dad might not have been completely keen on the idea of walking in on a chalk line body.

A/N: Still... if they're reading this: I'm am EXCEEDINGLY sorry for acting like a twat and a pain in the ass, and do ask for your forgiveness with that one. I'm also wondering how in the hell did you two NOT murder me while I slept.

     But things are beginning to calm back down. Tommy is very nearly back to his usual, irritating self. I don't know whether to laugh, cry, or grab a lascannon and hope for the best. I think the last option may provide the best story as to why mom killed Uncle Tommy instead of some soul stealing cat (inside joke, please move ahead).

I've gone back to school, after a spell of screwing up and getting myself back together. My art degree is coming along just fine; I'm almost half way through my associates. I'm a little bummed that Midland College doesn't offer a Humanities degree, but I guess that's the way the cookie crumbles... for now. I'm thinking of just going back and for a second time around, earning a History degree, this time through the dreaded honors program. I don't know if its my pension for education and social masochisim or if I'm just lacking sanity, but it still seems like a good idea.

I'm thinking about applying to colleges in San Antonio and Houston on top of Dallas. Don't... know if I could survive Austin. I would love UTD though, as it offers not only a teaching certification (most places seem to however), but a masters in Art and a PHD in Humanities (a high pitch squeal inducing fact for me). I think I'll still visit University of Dallas, despite the glaring fact that I'm black sheep baptist and not Catholic (I wondered why that book mentioned 80% of the students having a semester in Rome). Being the black sheep I am, I'm naturally considering Dallas and Houston Baptist Universities... they're costs are SANE. Not insane. SANE. I'm already heavily dependent on Scholarships and government funding, as I refuse to partake in student loans, so the cheaper... the better. The strange thing is I think Les is an HBU alum, before she headed to A&M, I mean.

And then there's the big cheese for me... Art Institute of Dallas. This school IS my Ivy league, considering it costs $95,000 plus for my entire education (I'd go for Media Arts and Animation BA). Ah what I won't do to see my name seven minutes into the rolling credits of a half assed animation.

Of course, all this goes out the window when I make my millions as a misunderstood starving artist.

/odd.

I SOLD MY VERY FIRST PAINTING AT $125!!!!!!!!!



~ Bitz

I've updated the deviant art account again:

http://eskew-d.deviantart.com/art/Miss-Tann-2009-115705180

http://eskew-d.deviantart.com/art/Collage-115693466

I'm sick. My 360 got the red ring of death last night. Humor me.


- Oddball