My worst nightmare came true today.

Yes, I am an art student. But more specifically, I am an interior design major. I'm not getting my degree in ceramics or anything like that. I don't think my artwork is ironic, I don't wear black all the time, I don't walk around with a ponytail, glasses, and paint stained overalls like the chick in Not Another Teen Movie. I don't talk much about my art, because I work in a medical field, and people are always asking me if I'm in school for it, then I have to explain that no, I'm an art student, this is just a job. (And by the way, why does every freaking patient that walks through the door feel the need to grill me over my personal life? I have a mother for that.)

Anyway, I'm taking a History of Cultural Environments class. It sounds stupid, but its actually pretty interesting. To me. I wouldn't expect it to be interesting to anyone else, don't worry. But one of the first assignments of this semester was to go to the art museum and see the special Napoleon exhibit.

Okay, whatever. I like the Art Museum. Its nice, its free, and for such a white-trash loving town, its actually fairly decent. Van Gogh and Monet and whatnot.


The bitch of it was, I had to draw a piece of furniture and a textile. Yes, I was at the Art Musuem, with my sketch book and my pencils. People kept staring at me, because I am a freak. I drew very quickly and then re-drew it at home later, but God. I am officially one of those people.