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I got a call from the Illinois Institute of Art admissions today, because I sent off for some more information. And the woman who called and talked to me about why I wanted to go back to school now and for art instead of what I was going to school for before was very nice. And I'll be talking with her again on Saturday to set up a trip to tour the campus (since I'll know what my work schedule will look like by then).
And I really should've put my cellphone number down instead of the home number because MOM answered the phone, and as soon as I got off the phone with the woman from admissions, she started asking me what that was all about. And it's really sad that I feel like I can't talk to Mom about this sort of thing. All she'll do is just shoot it down! She's never been very supportive of that sort of thing. I shouldn't have to be so secretive about it, but she just wouldn't understand. When I go back to school, I'm not going to be going back to IUN or Purdue Cal. And I'm not going to be doing what she wants me to do with my life. I don't want to be a doctor or a nurse. I think I probably could be a pretty damn good lawyer (especially after watching all this Casey Anthony stuff on HLN and TruTV), but that's not really my heart's desire. And I don't think I'm really cut out for a career in journalism, either. I got burned out with that stuff.
All I've ever really wanted to do since I was a kid was to draw and make cartoons. (Certainly not wasting my life stuck behind a grocery store register, ringing up groceries and having to put up with rude customers with a fake smile on my face.) It's the equivalent of...say, Rapunzel's floating lights. It's one of those lofty dreams that you want more than anything but seems so far out of reach because of a overbearing parent shooting those dreams down.
And I really should've put my cellphone number down instead of the home number because MOM answered the phone, and as soon as I got off the phone with the woman from admissions, she started asking me what that was all about. And it's really sad that I feel like I can't talk to Mom about this sort of thing. All she'll do is just shoot it down! She's never been very supportive of that sort of thing. I shouldn't have to be so secretive about it, but she just wouldn't understand. When I go back to school, I'm not going to be going back to IUN or Purdue Cal. And I'm not going to be doing what she wants me to do with my life. I don't want to be a doctor or a nurse. I think I probably could be a pretty damn good lawyer (especially after watching all this Casey Anthony stuff on HLN and TruTV), but that's not really my heart's desire. And I don't think I'm really cut out for a career in journalism, either. I got burned out with that stuff.
All I've ever really wanted to do since I was a kid was to draw and make cartoons. (Certainly not wasting my life stuck behind a grocery store register, ringing up groceries and having to put up with rude customers with a fake smile on my face.) It's the equivalent of...say, Rapunzel's floating lights. It's one of those lofty dreams that you want more than anything but seems so far out of reach because of a overbearing parent shooting those dreams down.
