aintbroke | (no subject)

My room mates schedule is such that she is still asleep when I leave for my first class, and by the time I get back she's in her block class 'o doom. Regardless of that little piece of back story, when we first said hello today- her reaction was rather priceless.

"You are never allowed to dress yourself again. Ever. I will wake up at eight in the morning to prevent you from leaving the room looking like that."

So wearing blue stripes with orange plaid is a fashion no-no I take it?

"And with a lavender scarf! AND THAT HAT! Please tell me you didn't wear that hat in public."

We've been living together for three months now, and she's just now noticing that I've got the fashion sense of your average three toed sloth? I mean really. Bibi didn't even notice my subconscious combinations of color, texture and form any more. There are so many better things to do than expend energy coordinating my clothes.

Like watching Ferris Buller's Day Off. Or studying for my Linguistics final tomorrow. Or working on the two pieces of art I've got going, or the new one that just came to me and it's beautiful beautiful. Oh, gah. How can I study with art in my head? Erg.

Art is not good for my study habits. I need to hie me hence to an art school, and this is all I have to say on the subject. Except we all know it isn't. But hey.

In other news, I had an interesting experience with sexuality and people and art yesterday. And after that tease, I realize that the last few times I've tried to type out the story, I totally butchered it. So. Another time perhaps.