So apparently, I made enough money this summer to pay off my car, pay off my visa debt and whatever else...and just when I thought my situation for money was good. I decide to go to college! Wonderful ain't it. So now, I'm going to owe close to 5000$...considering I took some intense courses.
Let's see, I took (in french) philosophy, religion, biology, french (in english) and a fine arts course, fundamentals of drawing, at the U of M...which counts for 9 credits....
Now, even though I'm a cheap bastard and I'm going to fret my financial situation all year....I still think this will be an awesome year!
So yes, wish me luck, folks.
------
I am constantly wondering why it is that sometimes certain people will walk up to me after they witness a painting of mine and start giving me an indepth critique on it as though they really knew what they were talking about, whether they do or not is not the case. It's as though for that breif moment in time, the person reguards and puts me into the artistic category and start talking to me in a different language. What they fail to see is that, I'm just a man, I paint, I write music, I sing and dance, I walk in the rain...and though I'm odd, I'm still just a man. Kill me, I die, bruise me, I cry, amuse me and I'll laugh. It's the idea that because I do things most people don't, that I'm set apart and put into a higher or lower category than their own...or so goes my theory.
Let's see, I took (in french) philosophy, religion, biology, french (in english) and a fine arts course, fundamentals of drawing, at the U of M...which counts for 9 credits....
Now, even though I'm a cheap bastard and I'm going to fret my financial situation all year....I still think this will be an awesome year!
So yes, wish me luck, folks.
------
I am constantly wondering why it is that sometimes certain people will walk up to me after they witness a painting of mine and start giving me an indepth critique on it as though they really knew what they were talking about, whether they do or not is not the case. It's as though for that breif moment in time, the person reguards and puts me into the artistic category and start talking to me in a different language. What they fail to see is that, I'm just a man, I paint, I write music, I sing and dance, I walk in the rain...and though I'm odd, I'm still just a man. Kill me, I die, bruise me, I cry, amuse me and I'll laugh. It's the idea that because I do things most people don't, that I'm set apart and put into a higher or lower category than their own...or so goes my theory.