Pseudoephedrine is your friend
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
The meds that the good Doc gave me are not the same as the ones I got from the other doc 2 weeks ago. These also have pseudoephedrine.
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Class was good. Lots of discussion of "what is art?", "what makes an artist?", and "what is a cultural site?"
And believe it or not, I felt intelligent. For once. It's rare, really. I spent my life trying to live up to what I thought were my father's expectations and failing, or being told how intelligent I was and knowing I wasn't. But tonight, as we spoke about our lives and our experiences and our "art", my experience in the design field far outweighed anyone, and I could articulate it. It felt good.
Yay. I'm better than a bunch of students 10 years my junior. Whoopee.
I should bloody well hope so.
So, I had some news from the warfront, and news from Virginia newsrooms. And from the Illinois Institute of Technology's Communication Design program.
I really just want to sleep now and tell you more in the morning... the buzz probably wont let me, but I think I will try.