Brilla.org

Today was another milestone in the quest for graduation. My final meeting with my academic counselor.

These should be terrifying times. I can’t wait! I love this place and would never think to wish my time away, but the prospect of the real world sounds way more fulfilling than the academic bubble. No more quizzes. Assignments. Papers to write. It’s the real thing, no more practice rounds. I’ve been dying for the chance (and frankly, the time) to apply my knowledge to something “real.” We got a taste of it last semester with all my projects, and I get morsels of it at work, but I’m ready to do a face-first swan dive into this web development stuff.

So that’s it. Left on my plate are the final responsibilities for me between now and May 10th:

1. Make the grades — D for Diploma Kidding, mom :D Fun fact, Johnny could rock a 2.5 this semester and still graduate cum laude. Awful tempting…
2. Savor every last drop of the Auburn Experience There’s still so much of it I haven’t seen, or even heard of. In two months, the dream expires. Enjoy it.
3. Find a job. I’m still on the hunt. Not too late to put your name in the hat…

It has absolutely FLOWN by. And it’s only going quicker by the day.

I love my logic. I can’t think of anything ever that was illogical. Even if it was really really stupid, it’s logic that makes up the giant mechanical gears that keep the Earth spinning.

So naturally when I came across this curious quote, I tried to logic it out (I would). Analyzed it. Which is exactly the reason this quote disagreed with me for a while.

I get it now. Sure… clever, calculated quips make for good comebacks and have great comedic value. But what is so much funnier is the things we don’t think about. Didn’t even mean to say; they just slipped out, like a little toot when we laugh too hard. Those natural reactions are so gruesomely genuine and such a fruitful breeding ground for comedy, creativity,… anything.

This also parallels with an old Camus quote I stayed hung up on from high school:

“You cannot create experience; you must undergo it.”

It’s like that old analogy of learning to ride a bike. You can read about it. Your daddy can tell you what that bike’s gonna be like. But until you sit up on that spongy seat and man those wobbly handlebars yourself, you’re not going to have a clue. You can’t think about not thinking, you just gotta not think! (Not unlike the game).

So that’s it. Don’t think, just do. Several connections later, I hereby declare war on logic. You won’t get it until you get it. And then you’ll get it :D

I wonder if this is what Al Gore was talking about.

The date is February 13th.

Several weeks into the new year, and high time for folks to cash in on those resolutions to get skinny again.
Spring break is just around the corner, after all.

Every third commercial is about getting healthy. Bally Total Fitness. Dan Marino eating healthy again. Have you called Jenny? Bowflex success stories. The Navy Seal-inspired Perfect Pushup. Even Subway’s trying to cash in again with a pat-on-the-back for creepy Jared.

I seem to remember a big romantic holiday just around the corner, too. Enter the bow-and-arrow-wielding cherubs.

So every second commercial is about love. It’s okay to look. Married couples from eHarmony talking about how natural it was to kiss a complete stranger for the first time. Every kiss begins with Kay. Other ads insisting you better get your lady some Russell Stover, or she’ll leave you for another bum who will.

(Lest we forget, chocoholics, that spring break is just around the corner. That’ll be my excuse)

And of course, for capital-minded men like myself, two months out is judgement day. Tax day.

Making every first commercial about doing your taxes. And except for the fat guy wearing his tax return suit of money, these commercials are unremarkable. But I am happy that H&R feels so threatened by tax software, they have to make an ad slamming “the box.” This I consider another incremental victory against the Man and his archaic institution of filing taxes.

It’s like when hate mail showed up in your inbox for the very first time. You know you’ve made it.

I can’t be an alumnus of Hugh Guffey’s marketing class and say I’m surprised to see these ads so frequently this time of year. But some of the content of them, it’s a little sickening how much they play on the fears and insecurities of consumers. I begin to wonder how many people pick up on the manipulation at work.

Then I begin to wonder why I started watching television again. :D

I am horrible at writing fiction. Always have been.

Back in grade school, fiction writing was always wide open. Any topic. Any characters. No rules. You were bound only by your imagination (which is a very big and scary space for some of us).

It was too much creative anarchy. I need a few rules. Like the rules for the 48 Hour Film Project: perfect. My paper doesn’t NEED lines and my jokes surely don’t have to make sense. But music without a beat is like running for miles in the middle of an ever-expanding desert. When do you quit? Where are you going? How do you find your way back to your car once you’re worn out?

How do you build something out of nothing? Heck, even MacGyver needs his paperclips, coconuts and things.

I bring up fiction because it’s beginning to parallel with my work in web design. I’m losing my touch. That voice in my head heckles everything I do. Every layout feels so cliche, or ugly or uninspired. From an information architecture/user interface standpoint, my designs are still organized and usable, but aesthetically, the art and colors are all complete crap.

Am I retiring? Probably not, I love it too much. I’m focusing more on development, or even being an interface guru or something slick like that. But if my life depended on it, I could still churn out a decent layout. Decent would be great.

Am I putting too much pressure on my new design job at work to turn everything around for me? Likely so.

Am I glad I didn’t stick with graphic design? Oh absolutely.