like, whoa.

the thesis is due tomorrow... i'm not freaking out. what? i'm not (well, only a little on the inside). i'm just a little preoccupied with making sure everything comes together articulately, and because i can't spell to save my ever-loving life, i'm proofreading like crazy and running the spell-check a zillion times. i'm also keeping my fingers crossed that the printer doesn't suddenly decide to through a hissy fit... i will continue to do so until i am holding 47 pages of thesis in my hands.

two weeks until graduation. two. weeks. until. i. graduate. from. college. two more weeks of my academic hell and then i get to taste the sweet (hopefully) chocolatey goodness of freedom. now all i have to do is survive my defense, write another (again, hopefully) brilliant paper, finish a series of paintings, and pass a final exam.

no sweat.



someone was killed at my apartment complex sometime friday night or saturday morning. she lived downstairs from me. she was 21 years old. her brother found her dead in her bedroom. i didn't even know her name. i was home all night on friday and i didn't hear a thing... i just can't help but think that maybe, if i'd paid more attention - if anyone living around her had paid more attention - this might have been prevented.

the most haunting thing about this whole situation is that i'm completely numb to it. that's fucked up. i should be horrified to come home from lunch to find a horde of police and a crime scene investigation vehicle parked on the quad in front of my apartment. i should be completely terrified. but i'm not. i am bothered tremendously by the fact that i didn't even know what this girl looked like and she lived four doors down from me for a full six months. and now she's gone. she was only 21 for christ's sake. now that is terrifying.


midget ninja

i have a plan. i am going to dress up like a ninja, climb in through the downstairs apartment window all sneaky-like, sneak through the tiny little rooms and overwhelming stench of fried food, and i'm going to smash my neighbor's speakers with a hammer. yes, yes... this is my sneaky remedy to the my-floor-is-vibrating-because-you-play-your-music-too-loud-are-you-deaf-? problem.

no, seriously... my neighbors play their music so loud it actually wakes me up... through the floor! are they trying to cause their child's eardrums to burst? are they hard of hearing and unwilling to seek medical attention (or get hearing aids)? or do they just enjoy polka music at 300 decibels and annoying the piss out of everyone on the north side of fayetteville?

at precisely 6am and 3pm every day, dude will turn his music on in his car, full blast. he then proceeds to open every door along with the trunk... and then walk away. he just walks away and my apartment is shaking itself apart. dude. what. is. your. deal? are you trying to make me crazy?


nothing, nothing to write home about

my sad, sorry excuse for a life can be summed up in one word - thesis. if i haven't written of late, it is solely because i am up to my eyebrows in things i need to write in order to get that little piece of paper that says that i'm free of this hell commonly known as architecture school. one more month, save a day, and i will be a college graduate. 48 days, and i will be on my way to dubai. oh yes, hell yes.

about the only thing of interest i have to write about is the 'flying architecture' competition i'm hosting today... it's basically just an excuse for architecture students to hurl eggs out of a second story window of the architecture department for prizes and whatnot. it comes down to the fact that i enjoy student-organization-sponsored mayhem. it's more interesting that way, i suppose.

oh, and i got peter eisenman's autograph on monday.




i now have a photoblog... and it's name is 'photobox'. photobox will be [hopefully] filled with pretty/weird/neat/random things to look at... i'm hoping to put something on it every day. it's linked under 'things i see' if you want to take a gander.

it's like a big internet party for me and my camera. byob.



my pooter is here! my apple macbook pro has finally arrived! all 15.4 sexy-ass inches of it are sitting in front of me 'as i speak', and i could quite possibly say that this moment is sublime.


my refrigerator is flooding my house

the u of a school of architecture is celebrating its 60th anniversary. this - given that all architects are alcoholics - means that everyone goes out to get hammered. this is how we socialize... it's just how we roll. brewski's on dickson street was full to bursting with the architecture crowd last night... holy mother of god, those silly kids can drink.

the festivities also came packaged with a lovely serving of drama - my tires got slashed. yeah. i just got my bleeding axle replaced and now i have to get new tires. i'm just pleased as punch. someone went down the entire row of cars that my jeep was in and slashed everyone's tires... the best part: in a bloody church parking lot.

the whole group-of-people-simultaneously-changing-tires-in-front-of-cops-thing was actually comic genius. everyone exchanging tools to try to get everyone's tires changed ... and then trying to figure out what tool belonged to whom at 2:30 in the morning, in the dark, after a night on dickson street - in front of the cops. brilliant. brilliant, i say.