Ahem.
Dorms aren't fun. Wandering into a toilet-paper free bathroom at 3am isn't fun. Nor is falling asleep to the delicate honking of Iranian syth-pop. Don't get me wrong, the people (by and large) are great. I like my floor (for the most part), and the bottom two floors are (usually) quite friendly. Third floor leaves me alone, so that's cool too. But KEE-RIST! Today and last night have been microcosms of all the suckitude of "residence halls." Yeah, all of this, and it's not even a dorm. We're sub-dorm.
But we're moving on up (movin' on up!) to the outside! Soon, my pretties, soon I will be able to cook with ease and have toilet paper on call.
Today, my drawing prof said I had an excellent eye for value (thus making my face turn about seven different shades of red while I stumble-mumbled something like "thanks" and "black and white photography") -- that was the triumphant part. The more realistic part is the second half of the phrase: "...but you have a very novice hand for lines." Still, though. I'm getting a lot better at this drawring thing. I'll take pictures of the charcoal stuff later on, when he's done grading.
Here's another little sketch book clip.
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